by Ruby Moone
Larry sighed and pulled at his lip. “Yeah, well, he’s running his mouth about how he’s working with you, how you rely on him, how….”
“He can run his mouth all he wants. Anyone who knows me will know it’s bollocks.”
Larry shook his head. “I’m a bit concerned about him. He’s been around for years. Your father always gave him a wide berth. Mainly because he’s unstable.” Larry hesitated, then plunged on. “He’s telling people you’ll be working together, once he’s… sorted you out.”
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. He was beginning with a headache. “Sorted me out? What the fuck? You know, Larry, I really don’t give a shit. I’ve my own business to run, my own life. I want nothing to do with Kenneth’s world. If Bryce is a problem, sort it. Isn’t that what you usually do? Though, from what I hear, you might have to get in line.”
Larry arched an eyebrow. “I can deal with him, but…”
Daniel closed his eyes and pinched harder before opening them again.
Larry pursed his lips, then sighed. “Look. I think he’s going to come at you. Not personally, but I think he’ll go for something that you care about. I think he might know how to get your attention. Worked out what will bring you in line.”
Daniel rubbed his face and looked up. “And what might that be? What is there in this godforsaken hole that I give the tiniest fuck about?”
Larry watched him for a moment, and then his words sent a chill right through Daniel. “Your cousin.”
Daniel’s heart thumped so hard in his chest, his head throbbed in time with it. It took everything he had not to react. “Christian?”
“Yeah. He knows that whenever Christian is involved, you’re in there like a rat up a drainpipe.”
“Bollocks. I helped him because he’s family. Nothing more to it than that.”
“Not how Bryce sees it.”
“You seem very conversant with what Bryce thinks.”
Larry grinned. “What your dad paid me to do. If he’s decided to take you on, he’ll go for something personal, something soft. What better way to do it than to go for Christian?”
Daniel forced himself to remain impassive. He only trusted Larry so far. “It would serve no purpose. What would he get out of it?
“A kick?” Larry wasn’t joking. “That’s what makes him dangerous.” Larry shrugged. “He owes a lot of money. He needs to find a powerful protector, fast, before the feeding begins.”
It was alarming the level of adrenaline, fury, and sheer blood lust that ripped through him at the thought that Bryce might hurt Christian. He sat quietly for a moment. Regaining control.
Larry’s eyes widened. “That bad, huh?”
“What are you talking about?” He kept this gaze on his hands.
“You know full well. It’s in your eyes. Thing is, what are you going to do about it?”
7
The weekly staff meeting was done, and Christian had a headache. Not that the staff were a problem. They were generally great, but his heart wasn’t in it and they could tell. He was getting the eye from Lewis, one of his investigators, and Finlay Masters had a face on. Mind, Finn always had a face on. He’d mellowed a bit lately, but he always sat as though poised for flight, and today had been no different. As soon as the meeting finished, Finn was out of the room and heading for the coffee machine. Christian followed him. Today he needed coffee too. Lots of coffee. He’d not slept properly since the funeral. He was knackered.
Finn was waiting impatiently for the filter jug to fill. He held up a mug in question, and Christian nodded. When the coffee had percolated, he filled two and handed one, black and unsweetened, to him.
“Cheers, Finn.”
“How’s it going?”
Christian grimaced. “Yeah, you know.”
Finlay Nodded. “If you need anything, you’ve only to say the word. I reckon between me, Michael, Jack, and Aaron we could sort it.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Christian smiled. “I know. I appreciate it. Just got to work through it.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I might hold you to that.”
“Do. I mean it.”
Finn’s gaze was far too knowing. He nodded, patted him on the shoulder, and headed for his office. He flopped down in his chair. He needed to go out and get laid. Rub out the memory of Daniel, just have some good, no-strings sex and get back into the flow again. Get in touch with some friends and get out there. He’d never lacked partners, modesty aside, he looked okay, and people liked him. He was rattled, that was all. Kenneth dying had sent a bolt through the family, through some parts of the city, it was to be expected.
Not for the first time, he wished he could talk it through with his dad. He’d been dead twelve years, but some days he missed him as though it was yesterday. Sometimes, the grief still washed over him without warning and left him blindsided. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He wondered what advice he’d give him. He could almost hear his voice. He and his mother had plenty to say when he’d told them he was seeing Daniel. His father had been beside himself, firmly convinced that Daniel would drag him into the underworld they’d moved to Leeds to escape, to bring up his family in safety, far away from Kenneth McCafferty’s influence.
He’d rarely argued with his parents, but he’d gone into battle for Daniel. He recalled the last time he’d gone home to get the last of his things to set him up at university, before the term began, and they’d argued again. He’d gone back to Manchester—the term hadn’t even started—when he got the call to say his father had been killed in a road accident and everything had fallen apart. At first, Daniel had been wonderful, supportive, everything he needed. After the funeral, he’d walked away from him and their relationship without a backward glance. His mother never said, ‘I told you so’ but she didn’t have to.
He couldn’t stop seeing Daniel looking so desperately alone and lost any more than he seemed to be able to stop wanting to make it go away for him. He wasn’t sure what that made him. An idiot? A loser?
His phone pinged. He picked it up, and there was a text from his mother. He smiled. Sometimes he swore she was psychic. She was asking when he was coming down for the weekend. About eight years after his dad died, she’d remarried. Dennis Vaughn was decent enough bloke and they got on reasonably well. He checked his calendar and texted a date. He could do with a break. They went through the obligatory ‘how are you’ questions, and when he put the phone down, he packed his laptop and headed home. He was worse than useless in the office.
A few days after the funeral, Christian sat watching early-evening TV when the doorbell rang. He put down his gin and tonic and went to answer. He peered through the peephole, and his heart made a weird leap when he saw Daniel standing outside, scowling at the ground. At least he had time to compose himself and check his hair and face in the hall mirror before opening the door and raising his eyes politely at his visitor.
“Hi.” Christian waited, polite smile in place.
“Hi.”
Christian waited some more.
“Can I come in?”
He held Daniel’s gaze. It wasn’t easy. His eyes were hard and unyielding as the rest of him. They were a light brown, hazel kind of colour. At times, they were as warm as brandy, swirling with emotion. Now they were like chips of glass. Hard and empty. With the intricate tattoo snaking up his throat and the gauge in his right ear, he looked intimidating. Sex on legs, but intimidating.
“Yeah, but don’t think that’s an invitation. I felt sorry for you last time. I’m over it now.” He stood back. Daniel hesitated, a muscle ticking madly along his jaw. Nostrils flaring, eyes even harder, if that was possible. He squeezed past him and managed not to touch him, which for a man his size was impressive. He walked down the hallway, hesitated, then went through the open door of the lounge where the TV played softly in the background.
“Take a seat.” Christian sank into the chair where he’d been sitting and switched off the TV. Daniel sat gingerly on the s
ofa opposite. He wore a charcoal grey suit and tie. He’d loosened the top button, but still looked supremely uncomfortable.
“Drink?” He held up his G&T in its fancy bowl glass.
Daniel shook his head.
“What is it, then?”
Daniel’s elbows rested on his knees with his hands clasped and dangling between them, making him appear hunched over. He slanted him a glance, then looked back at his fingers.
“Geoff Bryce.”
“What about him?” Not fucking Bryce again.
“Word is, he’s got a problem with me. I think he’s always had a problem with me, but coward that he is, he daren’t act while Kenneth was alive.”
“And?”
Daniel took a breath. “Well, apparently, it’s not gone unnoticed that the only time I take any interest in him is when you are involved.”
Ah. Well, that was a bit shit. Christian shifted awkwardly. The only reason Daniel was even remotely involved with Bryce was because he’d asked a favour. Twice. And twice, he’d obliged. Despite their past.
He frowned and swirled the ice in his glass and watched it move. “I’m…sorry if I’ve created a problem for you.”
Daniel shrugged, flicking him a fleeting glance before staring at his hands again. “Trouble is, Bryce has got it into his head that you are somehow…” He cleared his throat. “Important to me. And because of that, might target you to get to me. If you get my drift.”
Christian raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
Daniel nodded. “The thing with Aaron Baker’s kid? Turned into a real fiasco, and Bryce lost a lot of money, and a lot of ground. He’s pretty pissed with me.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Be vigilant.”
“Vigilant?” What the fuck does that mean.
Daniel shrugged again. “I’ve nothing to go on other than observation and gossip, but I’m taking seriously. You should too.”
“Vigilant as you think he might try to hurt me?”
“Maybe.”
“Hurt the business or me personally?”
Daniel looked awkward. He cleared his throat again. “I’m not sure, but personally would be my guess.”
“So, I’m getting caught in the crossfire of turf wars between two drug barons?”
Daniel froze. He looked up at Christian, and his eyes were glacial. That muscle ticked along his jaw.
“First, there is no ‘turf war’ as you put it. And secondly, just what the fuck do you imagine I do for a living?”
Christian had to admit he had no idea. “I always presumed you worked with your dad. It’s what you said you were going to do when we broke up.”
“I have my own business.” His tone was clipped. He stood and made an irritated sound. “Just… be aware.”
Christian stood up too. He put his drink down and faced Daniel. “Does that mean that the people you helped should also be aware? Jack, Finn? Aaron? Travis?”
Daniel rubbed his forehead. “I’d say you all need to be aware. With Kenneth dead, things are shifting. Until they settle, who knows. Bryce fancies himself as a player. I’ve always had him down as the small man that he is. He’s a coward and a liar. In this new world, even weasels like him think they can own a piece of it, and cowards can be surprisingly dangerous.”
Christian’s heart sank. He nodded. “I’ll speak to Michael and Finlay.” He sighed. “They are going to want to know more.” Finlay would lay a fucking egg if he thought that Aaron or Travis was in danger.
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. “There isn’t much more I can say.”
They looked at each other awkwardly. It didn’t help when Daniel’s gaze drifted to Christian’s mouth.
“They’re all coming to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Tell them all together then.”
Christian nodded and glanced up at him. He hesitated. “Do…do you want to join us? Talk to them?”
They both stiffened and stared at each other. Like cats eyeing up the enemy. If Daniel had had a tail, it would have puffed up. “Come to dinner?” He made it sound like he’d invited him to dance naked on the lawn.
“It would help me fend of the million questions I know I’m going to get and won’t be able to answer.”
Daniel scowled. “I suppose we could get it done in one go.”
Christian shrugged. “Up to you.”
“What time?”
“Seven?”
Daniel nodded. “Okay. Seven.”
Friday afternoon, Christian brought Michael and Finlay into his office. He closed the door and sat behind his desk.
“I need a word.”
Michael and Finlay exchanged glances.
“Daniel came to see me.”
They both sat. Waiting.
“His father death has caused something of a…” He cast about for the right word. “Vacuum in his world.”
Finn’s lip curled in a small smile. “Power loves a vacuum.”
“Yeah. Well, you both know Bryce? Geoff Bryce?”
Both men nodded.
“Well, I don’t want to alarm you unnecessarily, but Daniel has some concerns that Bryce might go for him in the chaos that seems to be surrounding the family at the moment.”
“What does he think he’s going to do?” Finn scowled and sat forward.
“He thinks Bryce wants to hurt him. He thinks that because he’s helped me out over the last year that there is…something between us and might go for me to get to Daniel.”
Michael’s scowl matched Finlay’s.
“I have no idea if this is true, but Daniel is being cautious. I’m worried that he might be planning to go for more than just me.” He shrugged. “Bryce has reason to feel aggrieved with Jack and with Travis.”
“Fuck.” Finn’s word echoed in Christian’s head.
“Daniel’s advice for now is that we need to be vigilant. Careful. I’ve invited him to join us this evening for dinner to talk it through with him.”
“We need to be more than just fucking vigilant, we need to be on it.” Finn stood and paced.
“I know. That’s why I’ve invited him to have dinner with us all tonight. So you can ask him the questions I can’t answer.”
“You’ve invited Daniel McCafferty to dinner?” Michael’s eyes were wide.
“Yes.” It was a bit like inviting the big, bad wolf, he supposed.
Finn perched on the edge of his chair, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “We need to look at surveillance, we need him tracked, and we need…”
“I know. I’ve thought of all of that, but let’s plan together.”
Finn bit back what he was going to say and nodded tersely.
Michael rubbed his mouth.
“How are Aaron and Travis?”
Finn twitched a shoulder in a kind of shrug. “Not bad. Well, Aaron’s not too bad. Travis, not so great. He’s home, but…” He shrugged.
“Bring Travis with you if you like? Or would it be too upsetting for him?”
“Thanks. It might be a good idea. I don’t think Aaron wants to leave him alone for too long, and he needs to deal with what’s going on. If there’s a problem, we can’t protect him if he doesn’t know what’s happening.”
8
Ten minutes before seven the first knock came on the door. Christian put the lasagne dishes back in the oven and went to answer it. He peered through the peep hole, and his heart lurched again, making his skin prickle. Daniel. He opened the door.
“Sorry I’m early.” He handed Christian a bottle of red wine, a very good bottle of red wine, if Christian wasn’t mistaken. He stood back and let Daniel pass. He’d never met anyone who seemed to take up so much physical space. Okay, he was a tall man, broad shouldered and imposing, but it was as though he carried some sort of aura around him. Christian’s house felt smaller with him in it.
“The others won’t be long.”
Daniel nodded tersely and looked around. He wore stylish black jeans and a grey shirt
with a small print. He looked weirdly normal. He’d bulked out a fair bit in the intervening years, but he was still lean and fit. Too lean and fit.
“Drink?” Christian waved the bottle and tried to smile.
“Soft for me, please.”
Christian nodded. Maybe he was driving. He went to the kitchen and poured him a tumbler of juice and added ice and a slice of orange.
“Thanks.” Daniel accepted it and took a long drink. As his throat worked, the tattoo covering it moved. Christian struggled to tear his eyes from it.
Daniel sighed and looked like he wished it had gin in it. He perched uncomfortably on the sofa and didn’t speak. Christian hovered awkwardly, hoping that the others would arrive quickly because the silence was bloody oppressive. When the doorbell finally rang, he breathed a sigh of relief and all but ran for the door.
Michael and Jack stood on the doorstep and he ushered them in. Michael looked serious, as always. Jack was grinning. Jack was about five years younger than Michael, and sometimes it seemed the age gap was more. Michael was so strait-laced and geeky, Jack was femme, gorgeous, and so in love with Michael it was painful to watch. He ushered them through to the lounge, and Daniel stood to greet them. He towered over the pair of them.
“Good to meet you again,” Michael said, holding out a hand.
“Yeah. How’s it going?”
Michael nodded. “Good. Good.”
Jack held out a hand and smiled. “Really good to see you again. I’m so sorry to hear about your father.”
“Don’t be. He was an arse.” Daniel shook hands with Jack whose eyes went wide.
“I imagine everything is in a bit of a fluster?” Jack said.
The smallest of smiles tugged at Daniel’s mouth. “You could say that.”
“I don’t see many people from that part of my life these days.” Jack had lived rough on the streets of Manchester for a time before meeting Michael.
“Keep it that way.”
Jack laughed and nodded. They all sat down. Jack talked animatedly, so Christian went to get them some drinks. He returned, and Jack was still chatting away. Daniel was looking marginally more relaxed and being about as friendly as Daniel got. Jack had lived all his life in the care system and had spent chunks of his adolescence living rough. Somewhere along the line, he’d acquired the ability to engage with just about anybody. Daniel included.
