Home > Lord of London Town(6)

Lord of London Town(6)
Author: Tillie Cole

She inhaled a shuddering breath. “I don’t know why I followed you …” She took a step closer. Fuck, the drugs were good. Ours, of course, so I knew they were pure. But they made this posh bird I first saw years ago look like a fucking angel. “Arthur Adley,” she said and smiled. I felt something pull in my chest at my name on her lips.

“Cheska Harlow-Wright,” I said, my thick cockney accent sounding common as shit around her fancy double-barrelled name.

“You remember me?”

I closed my eyes, leaned my head back against the wall and took another drag of my cig. “Did you enjoy the show back there?”

I opened my eyes. Chelsea Girl’s mouth dropped open and her cheeks blazed bright red. I smirked and waited for her to speak, but the fire door flew open. Freddie was searching for me.

“Artie,” he said, all business. High or not, my body immediately went on alert. “Eric’s getting into it with a group of loudmouth Welsh pricks,” was all he said. “It’s gonna be bloody carnage.”

I closed my eyes, and my head fell back against the wall. I opened my eyes and flicked my cig to the floor. I moved past Cheska, followed Freddie and headed over to my mates.

Charlie fell into step beside me, tearing himself from some barman he’d clearly been chatting up. “We can’t even go a few hours without shedding blood.” He smiled at me, teeth shining. “I’m not complaining. Jason there was getting on my nerves anyway. All brawn, not enough brains,” he said. “I’m bored as fuck. I could do with breaking a few noses.”

“How many?” I asked Freddie, as I saw Eric near the front door, smiling his fucking deadly smile at the blokes around him. I shot a glance to Vinnie, who was bouncing on his feet as he joined us.

“I think it’s time to fight,” Vinnie said to thin air beside him. “It’s time to fight, baby. And I want to fight. I like the smell and taste of blood. I like feeling bones crushing under my hand.” Vinnie turned back to me. “We fucking fighting, right, Artie?” he asked, cheeks flushed. “Right, Charlie?”

“No doubt, old boy,” Charlie said, rolling back the sleeves of his shirt. “This is Eric we’re talking about. He could start a fight with his own bloody shadow.”

Vinnie looked beside him. And he smiled, but this wasn’t his manic smile. This was a true smile. One he only ever had for her. “I promise, treasure,” he said again to thin air. “I won’t get hurt. I never get hurt. I never want to see you upset.”

My sister. Vinnie hallucinated my sister. Had done since she’d died and her death had worsened his issues. Vinnie ran a hand down her imaginary face, caressing nothing but empty space. “You always worry about me, Pearlie-girl. But I’d never leave you, just like you’ll never leave me.” For all intents and purposes, Vinnie was in a relationship with my sister’s ghost and had been for years. It was the only relationship he could probably actually ever have.

“There’s nine of them,” Freddie said, pulling my focus back to him. “Eric was fingering one of their birds against the club’s wall, and her fella saw.”

I stopped when we reached Eric. He didn’t look away from the beefed-up wankers surrounding him. I put my hands in my pockets and stared at the red-faced twat currently firing daggers at my mate.

“Problem?” I asked, and the twat’s eyes swung to me.

“Good. Fucking more of them,” one of them said and rolled his hands into fists. I smiled, coldly. Then I stepped forward, and before the cunt even had time to swing his fist, I grabbed his jaw and ploughed my head into his nose. He dropped to the floor, and all fucking hell broke loose. It was a blur of fists and breaking bones as the pricks around us tried to take us on, each one dropping to the ground, not even getting a hit on us—unless it was intended.

Eric lowered his fists and let the main bloke punch him across the face. Eric’s head snapped to the side, blood pouring from his lip. He ran his tongue over the blood, then smiled, widening the cut. The guy froze at Eric’s reaction. Then Eric was on him. Tackling him to the ground and pummelling his face until the bloke was out cold. I stepped back, pulled out a cig and glared at the fuckers on the ground. I inhaled a drag, letting Eric have his fill of spilled blood, then, resting the cig between my lips, pulled him from the fucked-up prick on the floor.

“Outside,” I ordered Eric. He was breathing hard, his knuckles split from all the hits. We passed by the bouncers. I flicked my chin at the mass of groaning twats trying to get up from the floor. “Sort them the fuck out.” The bouncers moved to the Welshmen without question. The Adleys fucking ruled this town. Anyone who worked here wouldn’t dare question a word I said, not unless they had a death wish. My family had men paid off all over Europe. We ran Spain with our gear.

I pushed through the crowded street, drunken Brits falling over and getting in my fucking way. I pushed a smashed cunt aside when he fell in my path.

“Oi, mate! You got a fucking death wish?” he snapped, trying to get closer to me as he stumbled to his feet.

Charlie walked toward him and nutted the arsehole’s forehead, then fell back into step beside me as though nothing had happened. The fucker went down like a sack of potatoes, and his mates rushed around him.

We stopped across the street, and I threw a cig at Eric. The fucker winked and grinned before lighting up. Blood still covered his chin, and the tosser made no move to wipe it away. I looked around my family. All our knuckles were bloodied.

“All that for fingering some slut?” Freddie said to Eric. “She better have been worth it.”

Eric raised his hand and put his fingers under Freddie’s nose. “You tell me.”

Freddie batted his hand away, leaving Eric laughing. I took off my glasses, wiping the spots of blood from the lenses when I heard, “Adley.” I turned, and before me was Ollie Lawson. My lip curled just seeing his pretentious fucking face.

I put my glasses back on, took a drag of my cig and blew it out right in his face. Ollie’s nostrils flared, but he wouldn’t dare do shit against me. His old man owned a few docks around London. A legit business. Import and export. Lawson’s old man had offered my dad millions over the years to get ours too. Never with much luck, of course. The Lawsons were smug and smarmy and royal pains in our arses.

Especially this fucker. The sight of his face alone made me want to shatter his skull.

“Lawson!” Eric held out his arms. “No hug for me?”

“You’ve got blood all over your chin,” Lawson said, clearly disgusted. Eric made sure Lawson was watching as he licked at the blood.

“Did I get it all?” Eric asked, knowing he hadn’t. Charlie and Freddie laughed. Vinnie whispered into Pearl’s ear, and I just fucking glared. I hated this twat. Raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and walked around like he owned our fucking town.

“Anyway, just thought we’d say hello,” Lawson said, pointing to his mates. “We’re here for a holiday, just like you. A break from the Big Smoke, yeah?” He glanced at each of my mates, but his attention stayed on my cousin. “Charlie, sucked any good cocks lately?”

“Just your old man’s,” my cousin said. “But that maggot could hardly be classed as a dick.”

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