And, though I refused to admit it to myself, perversely, deep down, I knew I was jealous.
Staring into her unfocused eyes, I realised she wasn’t really there. She was on a pleasure trip, some of Alexander’s white powder burning in her veins. What was startling was that his eyes, too, were wild and bright as he looked to Samuel. But rather than make him warmer, less cold, now he seemed even more terrifying. Alexander, with his rigid control, was lethal and ruthless. Out of control, what was he capable of?
“Well?” he asked, smirking blearily, his head dipping down to analyse the blonde’s plentiful assets.
I felt my cheeks burn. Was this display designed to humiliate me, or did he really not care that I was there? Knowing Alexander, the truth would lie somewhere between the two.
“We checked the place out. It’ll be complicated, and dangerous, but it’s doable. We just need to construct the package, then make sure Davis holds up on his end.”
“Good. This should make you happy, little brother. Fighting for the cause.”
I saw Samuel shoot an apprehensive look at the blonde, uncomfortable discussing the subject in front of her. Alexander seemed unconcerned. His hand was now running up and down her thigh.
“We’ll talk more about it tomorrow,” he said, directing his words at her neck as he leaned in to nuzzle it.
Samuel left without comment and after hovering uncertainly for a microsecond, I rushed to follow him. On the staircase, however, he abandoned me, disappearing up to the second floor where he had his own flat, opposite Zane’s. I stood alone in the darkness of the hallway, indecisive. Since I’d been rescued by Alexander, if that was what you could call it, I had always slept in his bed. Though the building was full of rooms, none of them belonged to me, and I was frightened to go too far in case Alexander decided he needed me. He would be annoyed if I was not there to answer his call, and the gash on my cheek from the last time I’d displeased him had only just healed. I was in no hurry to earn myself a new one.
Miserable, I dropped down onto the floor outside his office, curling up like a discarded dog, my arms wrapped around my legs, chin resting on my knees. I would just have to wait it out.
I was still there an hour later when Samuel came jogging down the stairs, but I drew my legs in and kept quiet, and he ran past towards the front door, seeming not to have noticed me. I was ashamed to have him see me there, waiting whilst his brother screwed the druggedup blonde. My luck didn’t last, however. Just minutes later he came back up, walking slowly this time, and with company. I recognised the simpering voice of Natalie, an English girl who was his sometimes-girlfriend. She ignored me, sticking her nose up in the air, but Samuel caught my eye, his expression pitying. I grimaced into my knees. His sympathy was painful, stoking the ashen embers of my embarrassment. I was relieved when they moved on, their low conversation fading away as they entered his flat.
A high-pitched laugh bubbled through the office door and I clapped my hands over my ears. I didn’t want to have to listen to this.
“Lizzie?” My name came from above.
I looked up to see Samuel standing on the upper landing.
“Come on, up you come.”
Desperate to get away from the sound of Alexander and the blonde, I scrambled to my feet and rushed to his side, not pausing to think through his invitation.
“Thanks,” I muttered, grateful.
Samuel’s flat was small but clean – though it was obvious a man lived there. There were few personal effects on display and the place had an unloved feel about it, as if the owner used it as somewhere to sleep and nothing more. Adding to the atmosphere was Natalie, who glared at me when I entered. Samuel headed straight for the bedroom, leaving us eyeing each other across the room: her furious, me awkward.
“What’s she doing here?” Natalie asked as soon as Samuel reappeared. He had a heavy blanket clasped in his arms, which he deposited on one of a pair of twoseater black leather sofas.
“She is sleeping on my couch,” he replied, sounding a little belligerent. Natalie folded her arms across her chest but said nothing more, though she still looked far from happy. “Goodnight, Lizzie,” he said, grabbing Natalie by the arm and marching her into the bedroom, where he shut the door.
Glad to be alone, I spread the blanket out and got under it without undressing. I didn’t think I’d sleep, but the cool leather was soothing against my red cheeks, the plump cushions surprisingly comfortable, and I quickly drifted off.
In the middle of the night I woke to the sound of love-making. It was both easier to listen to and more painful than the squeals and raucous laughter that I’d heard coming from Alexander’s office. An uncomfortable tightness gripped my chest and I squirmed into the sofa, suddenly restless. If I’d had anywhere else to go, I’d have fled the room. But I didn’t. I buried my head under the blanket, pressing a wad of material hard against my ears until I drowned them out.
CHAPTER NINE
I left Samuel’s room at the first rays of dawn, folding the blanket neatly and leaving it balanced on the arm of the sofa before easing silently out of the door. One floor down, there was no sign of stirring, though I knew it must be close to Alexander’s waking hour. I pressed my hand to the door, even went so far as to twist the handle, but I wasn’t sure what I would find inside, and so, gently and noiselessly, I let it go.
I was feeling petulant, and – annoyed as I was with myself for it – Alexander had hurt my feelings. I wanted to do something to annoy him, to get back at him in some small way. I knew I’d only be hurting myself into the bargain, but I pushed that thought to the back of my mind.
The trouble was there wasn’t much I could do. I didn’t have transport, I didn’t have money, and, though I hated to admit it, it wasn’t safe to stray too far. I chewed on the inside of my lip as I pondered my paltry options, but nothing came to mind.
Then I heard a thud and a low groan, as if someone was stretching. Alexander was up. With nothing more firmly decided than that I was getting out of the way for a little while, I threw up my ever-present hood, ran lightly down the stairs and headed out of the door.
I needed a haircut. The tendrils of my fringe were reaching down to tickle my eyebrows and at the back it had grown to ruffle over the collar of my clothes. It was getting to a length where I’d have to spend time styling and coaxing it into shape, and time to myself was a luxury I rarely had. Alexander’s pixie cut might leave my cheeks naked to the eye, but it was convenient and I had grown accustomed to it. It was also something I could do without needing any money. My face was my payment; the hairdresser was one of many businesses operating under Alexander’s protection.
The place wasn’t open by the time I arrived at the tiny line of shops, but I could see a light burning deep inside and so I banged hard on the glass door. An agitated face appeared at the window, puckered lips tight around a cigarette, hair held up in an untidy platinum blonde knot on top of her head. Her eyes screamed ‘go away’, but when she saw it was me she unlocked the three bolts and stepped aside to let me in.
“Take a seat,” she said flatly, then she turned her back on me and stormed towards the rear, where I knew there was a towel room and, beyond that, a snug little space where baggies of white powder could be exchanged for bundles of notes.
I settled myself into the worn leather chair, scrutinising my face in the mirror. I looked tired, and irritated. It irked me further to think that Alexander would be pleased I was hacking my hair back to his favourite style.
“The usual?” She was back, appearing out of nowhere, sharp scissors in one hand, a comb in the other.
“Yes. No, wait.” I stared at myself, and she stared at me. One pencil-thin eyebrow rose impatiently. “Blue,” I said.
“What?”
“I want some blue. Not all, just a bit. Then you can do the ‘Alexander’.” That was my name for the pixie chop.
“That’ll take longer,” she moaned. I said nothing. We both knew she’d do it, no matter how ma
ny bookings she had that day. Favours for Alexander always came first.
It took two hours. Customers came, and waited. No one complained about the hold up and she didn’t apologise, rushing around trying to wash and dry and cut and dye all at the same time. I watched her, and I watched the clock, feeling a perverse pleasure as I realised Alexander would definitely be getting annoyed. Maybe he’d shout, throw something. I imagined the way his eyes would narrow, daydreamed about him taking his anger out on Zane. I avoided thinking about what was actually going to happen when I turned up again. At no point did I consider disappearing for good.
“Well, what do you think?” The tone in the hairdresser’s voice told me she didn’t give a damn what I thought, she just wanted me out of her shop so she could try to get her schedule back on track. I ignored her, staring critically at myself. My fringe was vivid blue, slanting forward over my eyes in a shock of colour. The rest of my hair was my natural glossy black. Combined with the piercings and the black tattoo against my chalky white skin, the look was almost punk. I grinned. I loved it; and I was pretty sure Alexander would hate it.
“Thanks,” I said, hopping off the chair.
“I’ll just put it on your tab, shall I?” she asked dryly, but I was already halfway to the door.
Feeling brazen, I left my hood down. I stopped outside the shop to grin up at the ugly grey sky.
“Lizzie.”
I jumped.
My silent observer emerged from the shadow of the building.
“You shouldn’t wander off. Alex was looking for you.”
I tried to shrug, like I didn’t care, but it was a poor pretence. Samuel shook his head, amused and exasperated.
“Blue?” he commented.
“Blue,” I agreed.
“Okay.” He grimaced in a way that plainly said ‘your funeral’. “Come on, you’re going home.”
There was no point arguing.
“Did Alexander send you to find me?”
Now that we were heading back I was starting to feel the first stirrings of unease. Blue hair flapped in and out of my vision as I walked, waving a warning. I was beginning to regret acting so rashly.
Samuel sniffed and shifted his jaw, but didn’t answer. His silence spoke volumes. I pressed my lips together. Would it be better to invoke Alexander’s rage with my childish statement of independence or run back to the hairdresser, have her change me back, and keep Alexander waiting that much longer? There was little difference between the two, except if I chopped off the fringe I’d lose face in front of Samuel. Alexander cared a lot about losing face. Did I?
“Lizzie! Hey, Lizzie!”
I turned, then my eyes widened as I saw Mark running across the road towards me. Samuel had stopped dead at my side. I risked a glance at his face and saw it was stone.
“Hey,” he huffed to a stop, breathless. “I thought it was you. Wow, look at your hair. I love it; it looks great!” he grinned at me.
I grimaced back tightly, aware of Samuel’s scrutiny.
“Hi Mark. What are you doing here?”
My words were meant to be a friendly greeting, but they came out like an accusation.
“My friend lives round the block,” he said, his face the picture of innocence. He looked from me to Samuel to me again, raising his eyebrows slightly and half-smiling, waiting for an introduction.
Shit.
“Mark this is my,” – how the hell to introduce him? – “boss, Samuel.”
Mark held out his hand at once, but Samuel hesitated before reaching to shake it. Mark’s eyes tightened slightly as they shook and I wondered if Samuel was trying to break his fingers with his grip. The hostility was rolling off him in waves, though I was the intended target, not Mark.
“Nice to meet you,” Mark said.
I gnawed on my lip.
“Samuel, Mark is a friend of mine.”
I tried to smile through the lie. Samuel and I both knew I didn’t have any friends.
“So…” Mark looked at me, hoping for a conversation opener, but I couldn’t think of a single safe thing to say. I dropped my gaze to the floor, wishing he would just evaporate. Or maybe I would.
Samuel rescued me.
“We’re late, Lizzie. We need to get going.”
I nodded at the ground.
“But—” Mark looked disappointed.
Samuel had already turned to go. I hesitated, torn.
“Sorry,” I blurted to Mark as Samuel’s feet took him five, six steps away from me. “I have to go.”
I moved to follow Samuel but a hand around my upper arm stopped me.
“Lizzie, are you okay?” Mark kept his voice purposefully low so that Samuel, who had paused and was eyeing me with a look of quickly escalating impatience, couldn’t hear.
“I’m fine, Mark,” I said automatically, throwing him a smile that felt plastic on my face. “Really, it’s fine. It’s…” I tailed off.
“Complicated?” He was looking at Samuel so he didn’t see the brief flash of confusion that crossed my face before I realised what he meant. Complicated. That’s what I’d told him on the train.
That wasn’t the half of it.
“Yeah,” I said softly. Then I glanced over my shoulder. “Look Mark, I really have to go.”
“You’re sure you’re all right?”
No, I wasn’t. But there was no point admitting that to Mark. As often as possible, I avoided admitting it to myself.
“It’s fine, Mark,” I repeated hollowly.
“Call me,” he said suddenly, stepping closer, his expression growing more intense.
“What?”
I wanted to step back, put that space between us again, but Mark kept a firm hold on my arm.
“Just… call me. So I know you’re okay.” His eyes flicked to Samuel. “Promise me.”
My heart was beating fast, panic oozing into my veins. I could all but feel Samuel’s glare stabbing into my back; I was trapped between that and Mark’s earnest determination.
“Okay,” I whispered, not sure what else to say, just wanting out of the conversation.
“Promise?” he pushed.
I wet my lips, tried to drag air into my lungs.
“Lizzie!” Samuel barked my name and I flinched. He was angry. Angry enough to tell his brother? If Alexander found out about any of this conversation…
Mark’s hand shifted from my arm, running down to grip my fingers. Squeeze them. He was comforting me. As soon as the gesture registered, my mouth short-circuited my brain.
“I promise,” I breathed, then said, louder, for Samuel, “I’ll see you around Mark.” I spun on my heel, saw Samuel was back to striding off again. With an apologetic wave to Mark, I hurried after him. I didn’t look back.
We walked out of earshot, down the street and around the corner, in total silence. I had to jog to keep up with Samuel’s loping strides but I didn’t complain. The rusting sign of Bancroft Road was in sight before he spoke.
“So, is that why I lied to Alex?”
His tone was clipped, curt. I fiddled with my zip, gazing down at it as if it were made of solid gold.
“Who is he?”
I stuck my tongue between my teeth, held it there. Why did I feel bad about this? Why did I feel like a traitor? It was Alexander I had betrayed, not Samuel.
“Lizzie?”
“No one,” I finally mumbled. “Just someone I met for coffee. I hardly know him.”
I sneaked a peek at Samuel. His face was drawn, a frown blackening his features.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Lizzie,” he told me.
That much I knew. I just didn’t quite know why I was playing it.
I kept my eyes on the floor as I trudged up the stairs to Alexander’s Bancroft Road headquarters, the bounce well and truly sucked from my steps, so I didn’t notice the door open. I would have walked right into Alexander if Samuel hadn’t grabbed the back of my top and jerked me to a standstill. I looked up, startled, to see a pair of g
reen eyes boring down into me.
“You found her,” he said softly.
Then he tilted his head to the side, reached out a hand to stroke the wave of electric blue hair. I suppressed the urge to flinch away.
“Interesting,” he said. Then he stepped past me, shrugging his way into a tailored charcoal grey jacket. “See Zane,” he addressed Samuel. “Have him deal with the issue in my office.”
He took one more step then slid deftly into a waiting car that I hadn’t even noticed was idling by the curb.
I stood motionless as he drove away, not quite sure if I was in trouble or not. His quiet calm was unreadable. Alexander’s anger burned slowly, and he never acted rashly. I would just have to wait. My stomach twisted queasily, unsettled by the thought.
Samuel went straight to the basement to find Zane whilst I dragged my heavy feet up to Alexander’s office, wondering idly what the issue might be. Knowing Alexander, it could be anything; and knowing Zane, I might find out, and I might not.
I did find out, and quickly. The buxom blonde was still in Alexander’s bed, her body draped like art amongst the smooth creamy silk sheets. I avoided looking at her at first, but I was like a moth to a flame. Despite myself, I found my steps leading me closer, and a cold, forbidding dread enveloped me. Something was wrong. She was too quiet, too still. Her head didn’t move with heady dreams as she rocketed down from the high, her chest didn’t rise and fall with each breath. Another step and I saw that her eyes were open, gazing right at me, completely unseeing.
My hand crept over my mouth as I stared at her dead body.
I had seen death. It surrounded Alexander. But it was always shocking, always violent and bloody. This was peaceful and cold, and it was all the more horrific for that. A trembling step at a time, I made myself walk right up to the body, forced myself to gaze upon her face. She hadn’t overdosed. Instead bruises encircled her neck, blue and green and black against marble white skin. She’d been murdered.
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