by Nicola Jane
“Right, well, leave that with me. I’ll give Eva Holmes a call and then I’ll let you know. When would you be able to start?” he asks.
“Straight away. I’ve just moved to the area, so I’m free.”
He leans across the desk and we shake hands again. “I’ll be in touch.”
I practically skip out of there. This is exactly what I need and I’m excited. I know Eva will give me a glowing reference. I decide to treat myself to lunch at the same café where I had coffee with Riggs.
I’m enjoying a fresh leafy salad when my cell rings. I groan when I see Reggie’s name, but if I don’t answer, he’ll just keep calling. “Hello,” I say brightly.
“I need to change visitation,” he says coldly. “Bring Malia tomorrow.”
“I can’t bring her tomorrow. Your day is Sunday. You shouldn’t be calling me about this stuff, Reggie. Contact the Centre.”
“I did that, Anna, and they said if I cancel Sunday, then I’ll just have to skip a week unless you call to arrange it. I want to see Malia this week. I just can’t do Sunday.”
“One week won’t hurt. Malia will understand. We’ll do it next Sunday instead.” I keep my voice light because I don’t want to upset him. He’s vicious when he’s angry.
“Shit, Anna, don’t be like this. I need to see her. I’ve missed her,” he says. It’s a lie, of course. He insists on seeing her so he can see me. “We can meet up somewhere public so you feel safe.” Again, it’s a lie. He’d yell at me no matter where we were. We could stand outside the police station and he’d still not give a crap.
“No. That’s not a good idea.”
I hear his intake of breath. He’s getting impatient with me. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Bring her to the usual park, the one she used to love before you took her away from me. After school, tomorrow, or I’ll come to your house.” I hold my breath because this is the part where he reels off my address and then I panic and move us again.
Before he gets to that part, I sigh. “Right. Fine. I’ll be there at four.”
“Good,” he says, sounding more relaxed.
“But Reggie, I’m bringing someone with me. If you lay a hand on me, they’ll call the cops.”
“Yeah, yeah, princess,” he mutters, his tone bored. “See you tomorrow.”
I cut the call and lay the cell on the table. I’ve lost my appetite and I push the salad around the plate. “You not eating that?” It’s Riggs’ deep, rumbling voice and I drop my fork in surprise. It clatters and a few heads turn to see what the fuss is. He stands to the side of my table. Behind him are some of his gang members, who take the next booth.
“I’m not hungry,” I mutter.
“Hmm, it looks filling.” He smirks.
“I’ve been in this part of town for almost five weeks,” I say. “I didn’t bump into you once. I come to see you at the bar and now I see you everywhere.”
“You sound annoyed by that,” he says. “You’re new to town. It’s good to make friends.”
“You didn’t seem too friendly last night when you told me to get the fuck out of your bar,” I quip.
“Maybe I was a bit harsh. I get testy when it comes to Ziggy.”
One of Riggs’ friends approaches us. He’s just as tall as Riggs, with the same bulging muscles covered in tattoos. It must be a clause in their gang rules that you can only join up if you’re hot as hell. He lowers his shades and I almost gasp out loud when his electric blue eyes meet my own. “And who’s this beauty?” he drawls.
“Anna,” Riggs says and sighs. “Meet one of my enforcers, Blade.” He holds out his hand. His tattoos cover it, making my hand look pale in comparison.
“You weren’t kidding when you said she was hot,” says Blade, and Riggs shakes his head, laughing.
“It’s nice to see you again, Anna. Take care.” Riggs shoves Blade back over to where their friends sit.
My cell rings again. I answer the withheld number and smile when it’s the garage offering me a two-week trial period to see how we get along. I accept, grateful that I don’t have to touch any of Reggie’s money.
“You look happy, Angel,” says Blade from his spot at the edge of his table.
“Angel?” repeats Riggs.
Blade shrugs. “Yeah, she looks all angelic and shit, don’t ya think?”
“You’re giving her a nickname?” laughs another of the men at their table. “Shit just got real.” Blade and Riggs stare at each other for a few seconds. A look passes between them, then they smile and the moment’s gone.
“Goodbye,” I say as I gather my bag and jacket. “I’ll see you around.”
“You certainly will,” smiles Riggs with a promise in his eye. “Angel,” he adds, grinning at Blade.
I collect Malia from school and I’m disappointed when I notice Ziggy’s grandma is there instead of Riggs. I laugh to myself. Why am I even thinking about him? My life’s complicated enough and a few harmless flirts does not mean he likes me like that. If anything, he probably feels sorry for me. My history with Reggie is enough to put any man off me for life.
Eva is waiting for me when I arrive home. “So?” she asks as I unlock the front door.
“I got a trial,” I smile. “Thanks for the reference.”
“I mean, it’s asking for trouble. I assume Riggs doesn’t know.”
I frown in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“The garage. Riggs’ club owns it.”
I stare open-mouthed. That’s new information and I’m suddenly sick with nerves. He’ll think I’m stalking him at this rate. “No, that can’t be right,” I groan.
“I checked it out after I spoke to the manager about your reference. It’s owned by the Kings Reapers.”
“I can’t take the job then,” I sigh, plonking myself down onto the kitchen table. He’s gonna think I’m some crazy lady turning up wherever he is.”
“You saw him twice.” Eva laughs. She turns the kettle on, then gets Malia a drink of juice from the refrigerator. “That’s hardly stalking.”
“Three times,” I correct her. “He turned up at the café where I went to get some lunch.”
Eva fixes me with a stare that makes me blush. “Would that have been the same café where Riggs took you for coffee?” she asks. I nod my head and look away. “Did you go there hoping to see him?”
“No.” I gasp and then smile. “I don’t think I did. If I did, then it was subconsciously.”
“Oh, Anna. You have that look in your eye,” she groans. “Stay away from the biker.”
“I am. It was a coincidence is all. The chances of me seeing him again are thin. I’ll avoid the café and turn the job down.”
“You can’t turn it down. Maybe he doesn’t go into the garage much. He has a manager running things, so do the trial and if, at the end of it, you think it’s likely to be an issue, leave,” suggests Eva. It sounds like a better plan than turning down a perfectly good job.
“Are you free tomorrow? I need to take Malia to the park near our old house,” I say cautiously because I know Eva’s gonna spend the next ten minutes lecturing me.
“Why’d ya wanna go there? Reggie or one of his goons might spot you.”
I jump down from the table and set about pulling pans out to begin dinner. “Reggie knows. He’s gonna be there.” I feel her eyes on me. “He can’t make the visit on Sunday like planned, so he asked me to meet him tomorrow after Malia finishes school.”
“What? Now we’re accommodating what Reggie wants?” she snaps.
I take out some potatoes and begin peeling. “I said yes for an easy life. I didn’t want him spouting off my new address. It stresses me out and makes me want to move on. I quite like it here.”
Eva’s eyes soften. “But you know that he knows where you live, Anna. He doesn’t have to say the words out loud. He knows the moment you sign for a place.”
“But when he says it, it makes it real. If he doesn’t, then I can pretend that Malia and I ar
e safe.”
“That’s crazy,” she groans. “It’s just words. Being in this part of London makes you a hell of a lot safer than if you were on the other side of the tracks. If you start giving in to his demands, then he’ll do it all the time. You’re not safe when you’re seeing him away from the contact centre.”
I nod. I know all this because I’ve had the same conversation inside my head. The contact centre is monitored. Reggie takes Malia into a room to play and a woman sits in the corner making sure he isn’t quizzing her or whatever. It was part of the agreement to keep himself from going to prison.
“Can you come or not? At least if there’s someone around, he’s likely to behave slightly better.” Eva nods, but I can see from the look on her face that she wants to rant some more. I pass her the peeled potatoes and a knife, and she begins chopping. “I’ll be okay,” I eventually mutter, and she rolls her eyes. “It’s just one time. If he does it again, then I’ll tell him no.”
Chapter Four
Riggs
“Tell me something,” I say, staring directly into Chains’ eyes. “Why is it that every time I look up, you’re chatting with my sister?”
Chains shuffles uncomfortably and his eyes dart briefly to Cree. “Sorry, Pres. We’re just chatting,” he says.
I nod slowly. “About?”
“Erm,” he stutters before blowing out a puff of air and scratching his head. “All kinds of shit, Pres.”
“Sex?” I ask, and he almost chokes.
“Fuck no,” he yells. “I wouldn’t, Pres. Not with Leia.”
“Keep it that way. I don’t like the way you eye fuck her. I don’t like the way she looks at you either. Just stay the fuck away from her.”
Cree laughs as Chains rushes away. We’re good mates. Cree, Chains, and I were in the Forces together, but Chains knows how I feel about my younger sister, and he knows that no matter what, he can’t ever go there. “You think he fancies Leia?” I grate out.
“Fuck, yes,” grins Cree. “I hate to point it out to you, bro, but she’s growing up fast. You can’t keep her locked up in her ivory tower forever.”
“I can. She’s nineteen. She doesn’t need Chains or any other man in her life.” I shake my head and shudder. The thought of seeing Leia with any of my men doesn’t sit right.
My mom, Frankie, crosses the clubhouse holding Ziggy in her arms. “Ready?” she asks, and I take my sleepy son from her. It’s seven in the evening, almost his bedtime, but some fat arsed judge decided that every two weeks on a Thursday would be the perfect time to force my five-year-old to see his mom.
“As I’ll ever be,” I sigh. Ziggy doesn’t like to go and visit with his mom. He doesn’t let me leave him alone with her for the visit, and forcing him to go, even with me there, breaks my heart. Tonight, he’s so sleepy that he doesn’t bother to argue. I slow the car outside Michelle’s run-down place. There’s a weaselly-looking guy sitting on the doorstep smoking a cigarette and I groan. The last thing I need is a confrontation with any of her male admirers.
I take Ziggy from his seat and he clings to me. “Will you stay with me, daddy?” he asks, and I kiss his head lightly.
“You bet,” I reassure him.
As we get to the door, the weasel looks up. “What?” he grunts. I ignore him and kick the door lightly with my boot because my hands are full with Ziggy. Weasel stands directly in front of me. “I asked you a question,” he hisses, and I raise an eyebrow. Ziggy clings tighter and buries his face in my neck.
“You didn’t ask me shit. Move,” I growl.
The front door opens, and a dishevelled-looking Michelle stands there. Her once bouncy blond curls hang limply, the shine long gone. Her bright blue eyes are dulled by the dark circles under them and her pale skin is almost translucent from lack of sunshine. “Ziggy,” she breathes, and I’m grateful she at least sounds happy to see him.
“Michelle,” I mutter, stepping around the weasel and heading inside after her. “Did you forget we were coming?” I ask, looking around the stacks of dirty dishes littering the kitchen worktops.
She runs a hand over her hair and smiles weakly. “How have you been, baby?” she asks, moving around my back and trying to catch a glimpse of Ziggy’s face. He presses it further into my neck. “Zig?” she whispers sadly.
“Come on, kiddo.” I sigh, lifting him so he can’t hide his face. “Give mommy a cuddle. She’s missed you.”
“It’s fine if he doesn’t want to,” she mutters, stepping away. “I get it. How’s he been?”
“Good,” I say. “School’s pleased with his progress. His teacher says he’s amazing.”
“That’s great, Zig,” she gushes, and he offers her a small smile. “I’m so proud.”
“Are you doing okay?” I ask, looking around at the mess. She does the same.
“Yah know,” she shrugs, “I have my good days and bad.”
“You need any money or anything? Have you got food?” I ask because, despite my hate for this woman, I can’t leave her short.
“I’ll be okay. Don’t give me cash,” she mutters, wincing. “Dave will take it and buy drugs.”
“The weasel?” I ask and she gives a small laugh and nods her head. “Do you want me to get rid of him?” I ask.
“No. I like him. He’s just got a bad habit is all.”
“Should you be around him when you’re trying to recover yourself?” I ask and she sighs. “I’m not getting at you, Shell. It can’t be easy staying clean if he’s not.”
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
“Because you know I won’t bring Ziggy if you’re using.”
“Yes,” she snaps. “I know that. Don’t nag.” The weasel stalks into the kitchen and looks back and forth between us. “Dave, that’s Ziggy, my boy.” She smiles.
“And him?” he grunts out, pointing at me.
“That’s Riggs, Ziggy’s dad.”
“A biker?” He sneers, and Michelle gives me a pleading look that says to leave it.
“Daddy, can we go please?” whispers Ziggy. I nod my head and he visibly relaxes.
“Why can’t you leave her kid here?” asks the weasel and I glare at Michelle. There’s only
so much I can take. “She’s his mom. He should be here with her,” he continues, swaying on his unsteady feet.
“I’ll let her fill you in on that,” I say dryly as I move to the door. “Next time we come, he won’t be here, Michelle,” I add firmly.
“You don’t call the shots in my house,” he suddenly yells.
I kiss Ziggy on the head and place him outside on the step. “Stay right here, Ziggs. Shout if you get worried, but I just need two seconds with mommy.” He nods his head and I turn back towards the kitchen. Michelle groans and buries her face in her hands. “I pay for this house. I pay for the food in it. I furnished it. I own it. I own her. I own that kid. So next time I come around here, you won’t be here,” I warn.
He squares his shoulders and cracks his neck from side to side. “She’s my woman,” he growls.
“Then start taking care of her. She’s a mess.”
“She’s exactly how I like her. Get the hell out of my house,” he yells.
I crack my fist into his face, feeling satisfied when his nose crunches. Michelle screams and I use my free hand to cover her mouth, tucking her against my side. “Don’t scare Ziggy,” I whisper calmly. My next hit to his stomach causes the weasel to double over coughing. “Now, don’t be a dick or I’ll make sure you disappear completely.” I pat him on the back and kiss Michelle on the cheek. “Stay clean.”
My mom eyes the blood splatter on my t-shirt. “Leia, take Ziggy and put him to bed for me, please,” she says, and my sister happily takes Ziggy from my arms. “Talk,” she says, pointing to my shirt.
“It was nothing. Some jumped-up asshole shooting his mouth off. Ziggy didn’t see a thing.”
“Good. He’s a sensitive kid. Not like you were at that age.” She smiles. “Your dad would have to chase
you around the place before you’d listen to a word either of us said. You’d watch the fights break out in this club with a look of awe in your eyes. We knew you’d be just like your dad,” she says fondly. I smile. Being like my dad is the biggest compliment anyone could give me. He ran this club well for years until he finally passed from cancer a few years ago. “How was Michelle?” she asks, not bothering to hide the disdain when she says her name out loud.
“Not great. The place was a mess. Can you ask Coral to go over and clean? I’ll pay double.”
“Finn.” She sighs. “Stop doing things for her. You aren’t together. If she can’t keep her place clean, it’s her business.”
“Just send Coral over,” I repeat. “I want the place cleaned properly and she’ll do a good job.” Mom nods in agreement, knowing there’s no use arguing.
I shower and when I step back into my room, Bonnie, one of the club girls, is lying on my bed. It’s the same arrangement each night. She’s the only club girl I’ll have in my bed. She’s clean and I feel comfortable with her, and she doesn’t talk shit about my business or gossip with the other whores. “You okay?” She yawns. I nod and slip some shorts on under my towel. “Love it when you’re mean and moody,” she says and smirks. I throw the sheets back, ignoring her comment, and I climb into bed beside her. I turn my back to her, and she sighs before positioning herself behind me, pressing her body against my own. I close my eyes, exhausted, and I feel myself drifting off almost instantly despite it still being early.
Morning comes around and Bonnie is gone. She usually leaves in the middle of the night. It works for both of us. I dress and head to the room next door to wake Ziggy. By the time we head down for breakfast, my mom is up and busy helping Coral with the cooking. Coral’s been around the club for so many years, I can’t remember a time before her. Starting as a club whore when my dad was around, she never became anyone’s ol’ lady, but she stuck around and helps with the club’s housekeeping. “I’ll take him to school on my way into work,” I say. It’s rare for me to take Ziggy to school, so twice in one week is a miracle. Mom eyes me suspiciously, so I stare down at the newspaper to avoid questions.
