Dirty Bad Savage

by Jade West

  “Why wait? Ring her now. Get her over here. I can say thanks for the money.”

  “Told ya, she’s busy.”

  “Busy with another man’s dick. Probably laughing about us poor people as she sucks on his gold-encrusted bollocks.”

  She’d pushed it too far. Way too fucking far. I slammed my fist into the wall by her head, shredding my knuckles on the brickwork. “Lucky I’m your fucking mate, Vicki Pollock, but I’d shut your nasty fucking mouth before I forget.”

  She shoved me, shunting me down the yard. “Go on, then, fuck off to her, if that’s what you want. You’ll be back, crying in my fucking arms when she shits all over you. We’ll see who your friends are then.”

  “Yeah, we fucking will.” I turned away before I throat-punched her, pulling my hood up and disappearing while she was still raving in the street. I didn’t need to whistle Casey, she was as pleased as I was to be out of the fucking place.

  I heard Vicki calling, squealing at me to go back, but there was only one place I was headed.

  “Let’s go where we belong, Case,” I said. “Let’s go find Sophie.”

  Her waggy tail sure agreed with that idea.

  ***

  Took me a fair while to get there, but it didn’t matter. I took the time to plan it out, rehearsing how I’d sit down with Sophie and tell her everything, all about the Stoneys and Vicki and the trouble I was in. I’d ask her for help and I’d pay her back. I wished I had some cash to buy her something nice, something to say thanks. Passed by some hotels with them posh plants outside and took the opportunity, pulling off some pretty flowers and bunching them inside my hoodie. I’d never got flowers for anyone before, never felt like I’d wanted to, but Sophie deserved all the flowers in the world, even if they were nicked.

  I tried to push the fear away. She’d be cleaning, or summat. Having a girl’s night in with Raven where they could talk and laugh and share stories about all their BDSM stuff. Maybe she had something special planned, some special outfit or something like that. An image of that twat Roger came to mind. What if she was … no, Roger wouldn’t be there. No fucking way.

  It would fucking destroy me if he was.

  Was gone seven by the time we reached Canary Wharf. Casey picked up pace, bounding along ahead until she’d squat on the pavement with her tail going, itching for me to chase her. I shot after her several times and she’d bark her head off, jumping up on her back legs with her paws against my chest, tongue lolling like a goof while I fussed her.

  “Good girl,” I’d say. “Know where home is now, don’t ya? Know where we belong.”

  I felt a prick over Vicki, but she’d asked for it. I’d make it up to her, and I’d show her, too. Show her what a nice person Sophie Harding was, and all the great things I saw in her. Maybe they could be friends one day.

  Casey bolted straight through the foyer and into the lift, she even pawed at the right button, knowing the drill by now. “Hold your horses,” I laughed. “She’s only upstairs. We’ll be there in a minute.”

  I got the flowers ready, purple and white things with a couple of roses. They were a bit battered but I straightened them out best I could. I pictured her face, smiling at me like I’d brought her the crown jewels. She’d like them, for sure.

  My heart stuttered for a minute outside the door, ears straining for a hint of Roger. Of course he wouldn’t be there. Not a chance.

  Sophie opened the door straight away, but rather than smiling she jolted backwards, eyes fucking wild. She was dressed up smart, in a posh little suit like she wore to work, her make-up all perfect and hair curled under her chin.

  “Surprise,” I said, shoving the flowers at her. She took them, but didn’t smell them, didn’t say anything. My heart dropped through the floor, but I smiled anyway, pushing past her to get inside.

  “We said I’d call,” she snapped. “I’m not ready yet.”

  “You said you’d call,” I said. “I just went along with it, thought it’d be a surprise and I could help.” I looked around the place. It was clean right through, with no sign of Casey’s bowls or the cushions she’d trashed. The sofa was turned the other way around, to hide where she’d been scratching it. I choked back the dread, stomping on through to the bedroom where the few bits of shit I had were missing. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” she hissed. “I’ve just got some things to do.” She looked at the clock, nervous. “You need to go, Callum, just for a few hours.”

  “Why?” I folded my arms, throat all tight.

  “I’ve got someone coming. Trust me, you won’t want to meet them.”

  I fucking knew it. Deep down I knew. “It’s Roger, ain’t it? You’re seeing fucking Roger.”

  Her pretty face turned dark. “Of course it’s not fucking Roger! What the fuck, Cal? Are you fucking serious?”

  “Who then?”

  “My sister,” she spat. “She’s coming over.”

  The relief flooded over me like the fountain of fucking life. I smiled. “Shit, Soph, you had me worried pissing sick there. That’s cool about your sister, should have said.” I went through to the kitchen, flicked the kettle on. “I could’ve helped tidy up.” I took a sniff under my armpits, they held up alright. “Could’ve had a shower, too. Wanna make a good impression, like.”

  Her expression pissed all over my parade. I didn’t have time to react before the doorbell went again. Casey barked and Sophie flinched, waving her arms around in a panic. “Oh fuck,” she said. “Jesus Christ, Callum, Jesus Christ. Please just play along, will you? For God’s sake just play along.”

  I didn’t know what she meant until she opened the door. Sophie’s sister was taller than she was. A skinny thing with longer hair. Her nose was bigger, but she was pretty too. She sure didn’t look pleased to be there, clomping her way in with heels and a clipboard under her arm.

  Sophie’s sister eyed me like a piece of crap on her shoe, and all thoughts I had of a great family introduction were smashed into pieces. “I didn’t realise you had guests,” she said.

  I met Sophie’s eyes and they were desperate, frantic. They were cold. “They were just leaving,” she said. She ushered me into the hallway before I could react, Casey, too. “Thanks for dropping by,” she hissed. “I’ll check with the allocations team on Monday, Mr Jackson, see if we can get your application moving along. If you could call into the office I’ll sort out the additional paperwork.”

  I stared in shock, from Sophie, to her snotty sister and back again. I raised my eyebrows, begging her to say something, anything. To backtrack and introduce me properly, tell her sister how happy she is with me, how much I mean to her.

  She didn’t say fucking anything, just opened the door and shooed me out like a fucking rodent.

  She mouthed sorry before she closed the door in my face.

  And I skulked back to the fucking sewer where I belonged.

  ***

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sophie

  “That’s a turn up for the books,” Alexandra spat. “I thought this was a pile of horseshit, but clearly not.” She waved the piece of paper in my face, but I couldn’t make out any of it. “A complaint letter,” she expanded. “Claiming you have a dog in the property and undesirables living here. This is Canary Wharf, Sophie, not one of your poxy council estates. We can’t have people like that here. How on earth does it look?!”

  My chest was still paining, torn into pieces by the hurt in Callum’s eyes. In that one last moment, as I’d closed the door in his face, I hadn’t seen the savage standing there, I’d seen the boy who’d thrown his pens from his shitty mother’s balcony. A hurt, defeated, broken little boy.

  Yet still I fucking lied. Still I held onto appearances like they fucking mattered.

  “He’s a tenant,” I said.

  “Sure he is,” she snapped. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Sophie. The guy looked at you like you were candy on a stick. He seemed pretty comfortable here, too, for a tenant.”
/>   “He’s been around a few times. I’m helping him.”

  “Is that what they call it these days? Really, Sophie, you need to recalibrate your tastes and select something more becoming of you.”

  “Why are you here?” I stomped in her direction, folding my arms across my chest. “You’ve seen the place, now go. Write it up on your little form and get out of my business.”

  “This place is my business, and you are a lousy tenant.” She kicked at the sofa, and my attempt to hide the damage looked pitiful. “That’s his dog, then, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, who’s dog has trashed our property?”

  “It’s not trashed,” I seethed. “It just needs a bit of patching up.”

  I flinched as she shoved the door shut, rubbing down the tatty paint on the other side. “Patching up? You are joking? The place is a travesty.”

  “It’s hardly a travesty!” I hissed. “It’s got a bit of wear and tear.”

  “Maybe this is wear and tear by your poor people housing association standards, but believe me, we set the bar a little higher at Hardings.”

  “Sue me, then.”

  “Not planning on suing you, Sophie, just evicting you.”

  “You can’t be serious. Over some scratches on the back of the door?!”

  “Over destruction of property and breach of tenancy conditions. Our terms clearly state no pets, and reading between the lines would have made it damned clear that people like him aren’t welcome here.”

  The gall of the woman took me aback. I stared into her spiteful eyes, reaching for the gangly teenager underneath the veneer. “People like him? You’ve got a short memory, Alex. People in glass houses...”

  She shifted, uncomfortable. “That was years ago.”

  “Yes, it was. I’m sure Daddy would see it that way, too.”

  “You wouldn’t!” she scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “So’s this,” I said. “This is totally ridiculous, and you know it. Dad’s trying to prove a point, about me choosing another career path rather than toeing the line like a good little Harding. But you. Why are you here, Alex?”

  “It’s my job.”

  “Cut the crap,” I seethed. “Miss Self-righteous needs to take a long hard look in the mirror.”

  “I was a teenager,” she snarled. “And I was grateful for your help.”

  “Grateful for my discretion.”

  “That too,” she huffed. “Fucking hell, Sophie, does the guy really mean this much to you? Dad will never go along with it, and you know it.”

  My heart pounded. “I want the dog here. You’ll have to swing it.”

  “The dog? Are you serious?”

  “Deadly,” I snapped. “I’ll repair the damage, just keep quiet, will you? Like I did.”

  “I had an abortion not a tenancy breach. There weren’t that many people around to make official complaints about my screw-up.”

  “Be creative, then,” I insisted. “Hide it from Dad.”

  She blustered around the place, but I kept it calm. “Alright!” she said, finally. “I’ll head off the dog complaints, but you’re on your own with the relationship shit. If Dad finds out it will be your eviction, and most likely your funeral too.”

  “I’m aware of that,” I said.

  She ticked a load of boxes on her little form and made to leave. Finally. She hovered in the doorway, eyes softer than I’d known them. “About the abortion, and Jason, and the coke and all that. Thanks. I never said it properly at the time.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She smiled, a conspiratorial smile, leaning in close to make her confession. “I’ve got a dog too. Maybe we could go walk them someday.”

  She could have knocked me over with a feather. “You don’t seem like the dog type.”

  “Neither do you,” she said. “Mine’s a pedigree, of course. Yorkshire terrier. Dad doesn’t know about it.”

  “Seems we’ve all got our secrets, doesn’t it?”

  “Don’t all families?” she smiled. “Seriously, though, if you want to keep a smooth ride please do just come along to the Southbank opening. It will get us all off your case, especially Dad.”

  I nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

  She turned back in the doorway for a passing comment. “I’d go after him, if I were you. The guy looked like you’d ripped his bloody heart out. Looks like he’d eat glass for breakfast, but you, you’ve floored him. Well and truly.”

  It was the most sensible suggestion I’d heard from her in years.

  ***

  I called and I called, pacing around the apartment and biting my nails until they hurt. I left messages he’d probably never hear, just so desperate to hear him pick up.

  “Callum, I’m sorry. I fucked up, ok? It’s my stupid family, not you. I love you. Please come home.”

  Nothing.

  I took his things from the wardrobe, lay them back where they’d been. He had nothing much, just a couple of t-shirts and a spare pair of jeans. A few odd socks and a can of deodorant. I’d even hidden his toothbrush for Alex’s visit. I took it out of the medicine cupboard and put it back on the rack. Shit, what a bitch I was.

  I’d thrown his flowers down by the bin out of sight. They were wilting already, battered and pathetic looking. I put them in water, willed them to survive.

  They had to survive. We had to survive.

  When I hadn’t heard from him by eleven I called a taxi. I sat silent in the backseat, staring out of the window and hating myself for the stupid choices I’d made, but hating myself more for being such a coward.

  The garage was locked up and dark, no sign of life. I rode on, jumping out at the retail units and taking the rest on foot. I had no idea where I was looking, but the moment the taxi pulled away I felt totally out of my depth. This place was red-flagged in the daylight, coming here after dark was insanity.

  A collection of girls from tower one were drinking on the benches. I approached with caution, and they laughed as they caught sight of me.

  “Have any of you seen Callum Jackson?”

  One girl spat out her vodka, giggling her stupid slutty face off. “I seen him. Enough of him to want to see him again...”

  “Tonight,” I said. “Have you seen him tonight?”

  “Had a lover’s tiff, ’ave ya?”

  “Just tell me, will you?”

  The girl stood up, breathing alcohol fumes too close for comfort. “You can’t tell me what to do here, Miss Snotty. You ain’t on office time.”

  “Please,” I tried. “I need to find him.”

  “Saw him earlier,” her blonde friend said. “Over by tower two. You know the alley, down by the old newsagents?”

  I did know it. Knew it well enough to remember landing my ass on the tarmac. “Yes, thank you.”

  I ignored the catty comments all the way down the street, relieved to cross out of earshot. The relief didn’t last long, not when I registered movement in the shadows. Two figures, big and dressed in black. I tried to ignore them, holding my head high as though my confidence was a shield. Maybe it would be.

  I changed my mind on that as they closed in by the old alleyway, heading me off at the pass.

  “Alright, Miss Perky Tits,” one of them sneered. “We got something for ya. Wanna see?”

  “No,” I snapped. “I really fucking don’t.”

  “Think you do,” his mate said. “Think you’ll fucking enjoy it.”

  “Please excuse me,” I said. “I don’t have time for any crap.”

  The two bodies came closer, backing me into the wall. “Should make time for this,” one of them said. “I’m telling ya, you’ll enjoy it.”

  “Get off me,” I hissed, realising way too fucking late that those bitches had set me up. I shrieked as a hand landed on my breast, squeezing hard through my blouse.

  “Nice rack. Hope your cunt’s as juicy as your tits.”

  “Please,” I hissed. “Just let me go. I’m the e
state manager here, you must know me.”

  “You ain’t no estate manager at this time of night,” they laughed. “Just fucking take what you’re offered, bitch. We’ll take turns. Or you can take us both at once, one in the pink and one in the brown.” Foul breath in my face, lips too close to me.

  A rough hand crawled under my skirt, fingers jamming between my clenched thighs. I closed my eyes, breath hitching in my throat. “Spread ’em,” he breathed. “Show us what you got. Gonna fuck you real good.”

  I screamed blue murder as his skull bounced off the wall. It made a cracking thwack sound, loud in my ear as his body thumped to the floor. His friend broke for cover, lurching away on skittish legs. He didn’t get far, taken down to his knees by a well angled kick to the small of his back. I watched in horror as the savage pulled him back upright, pounding his face until there was only a bloodied mess. Callum was a demon in the darkness, a flailing hulk of grunting muscle. I listened to his ragged breath, the hiss of his anger through his teeth.

  The body at my feet was barely moving. I sighed in relief as he groaned in pain, thanking fucking God he wasn’t dead. I considered calling an ambulance, but Callum was already at me, dragging me away before I could get my thoughts together. I felt Casey’s fur against my legs as he pulled me down the dark pathway, the swish of her tail across my arse. Thank fuck for that.

  Once we turned the corner Callum slammed me almost as hard as he’d slammed my attacker. I squealed fresh as my head grazed the wall.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?!” he seethed. “Could’a got yourself fucking raped, or worse. Are you fucking crazy?!”

  He stalked away into the shadows were I couldn’t see. I could hear him, though. His breathing hard as he paced.

  “Shit, Callum, I was looking for you. I’m so fucking sorry about Alex. I should have told you she was coming.”

  “Don’t matter now,” he barked. “Know where I stand.”

  “You don’t!” I said. “It’s not how it looked.”

  “It’s exactly how it fucking looked!” he yelled. “I’m fucking nothing to you, am I?! Just a piece of fucking meat. Liked it, didn’t ya, fucking the fucking savage?! Liked my filthy cock in your ass, in your cunt, in your fucking face.”