Chapter Four

Sofia

The guy on the phone disconnects the call, and whispers something to the murderer. 

“Sweetie, we can’t call the police, do you know who these guys are?” whispers Harlow, stroking my hair.

“But it’s the right thing to do,” I say, confused as to why my best friend wouldn’t be on my side with this. Granted I haven’t seen her a lot lately, but we have been friends for ten years and we moved here together to start a fresh. The decision to move from Manchester to London was mine, but Harlow had been just as up for a fresh start as me. Both of us had dead end jobs, parents that’s didn’t give two shits, and bad taste in men. 

We became friends back in school when my parents moved to the area. Now at the age of twenty-five, you’d think I’ve got it all sorted, but it’s still a mess. I have no job and no money, and now thanks to this meat head, I’ve lost the only cash source I had. There’sno way I can go back to Pete’s apartment without him, he has friends that live there that would see this as an opportunity to make me earn my rent by keeping their beds warm. I shiver at the thought. 

“If your little friend here is gonna go to the police, then we need to take care of that,” says the big guy that was practically eating Harlow just three minutes ago. He’s fit enough to be a god. His dark hair is tied back into a man bun and his neatly trimmed beard is short enough to show off his chiselled jaw line. He has both arms covered in tattoos, they also peak out over the top of his T-shirt and crawl up his neck. He notices me checking him out and grins wide. So I frown, “What does that even mean? Are you threatening to kill me too?” I feel hysterical at that thought, but I try to keep it from my voice. The guy raises his eyebrows to let me know I’m right on track with that accusation. “Wow, did you plan on going on a killing spree this evening?” I mutter. Harlow nudges me to shut me up, I’m so sick of being told to shut up.

“Sophia, I swear to God, you’ll get us both killed if you carry on. These guys aren’t messing,” she whisper hisses. 

“I know that Har, I just watched him kill Pete,” I hiss back.

“I have a clean-up team on the way. Do I need to add you to it?” asks the murderer.  

I glare at him, He’s the better looking of the two, and whenever I look into those icy blue eyes, I feel butterflies fluttering around in my stomach which is quite sick really considering what he’s just done. I shake my head, avoiding his cool stare. “I’m gonna need words V,” he growls, his deep voice causing vibrations throughout my body.

“V,” I repeat, “My name is…” 

He cuts me off with a shake of the head. “I know your name, V, don’t worry.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” I say quietly. 

“Does he have anyone that might come looking for him?” he asks.

I shake my head, “I doubt it. He was a drug addict so the only people that will ask, are the people he owes money to.”

“You’ll need to make it look like he’s done a runner. Maybe pack him a bag and dump it,” he suggests.

“I’m not packing him a bag. I’ll be an accessory to his murder. It’s bad enough I’ve got to stay quiet,” I snap.

“Don’t be so dramatic. If I was you, I’d get the fuck outta town. His dealers will come after you for whatever he owes.”

I glare at him, that thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. “Are you shitting me? So now I’m in danger?”

“I did you a favour, V, the guy was a bastard. Look at the state of your face,” he points out.

Maybe he sees it as a favour, but now I have no money and no place to live. Harlow has moved in to a one bed apartment because she couldn’t afford the rent on our old place once I moved out. As if reading my mind Harlow takes my hand and squeezes it, “You can sleep on my couch, sweetie,” she offers.

“Well that can’t last forever can it, what the hell am I gonna do?” I groan.

A van stops at the entrance of the alley and we all watch as three large men get out of the vehicle and make their way to the murderer. They fist bump in greeting and then listen as he fills them in. 

“Any loose ends?” asks one of the guys. The murder looks at me before shaking his head, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Let’s go and get a drink, shall we?” suggests Harlow’s beast, leading us away from Pete. 

I glance back one last time; Pete’s empty eyes should fill me with relief, but I feel sadness. I loved him, despite everything, I did love him. It wasn’t all bad between us, he used to be sweet, but his jealousy and possessiveness got worse the more drugs he took. He was an addict when I first met him, I just didn’t realise until it was too late. A month after I’d moved in with him it became apparent that he had a real problem and things had started to decline pretty quickly from there. I’d tried to save up enough money to leave him, but he either always found my stash and blew it on more drugs, or I’d end up using it for food. Then I lost my job as a shop assistant and I was completely dependent on him.