Chapter Three

“This has fuck all to do with you, whore. Now move.” With little to no effort, the guy reaches behind Harlow and almost plucks the cowering woman from behind her, pulling her towards him and gripping her wrist. The woman begins to cry, and I exchange a look with Ryker. I wouldn’t normally interfere in a guy’s domestic problems, but this chick looks seriously scared. “I want to score with Harlow, this’ll get me some points,” says Ryker, standing. I follow suit, if it helps my brother out, I’ll oblige. 

“Let her go,” Ryker orders. He squares his shoulders, and although the guy hesitates, he doesn’t release his death grip on her. 

“She’s my wife,” he grates out, as way of explanation. 

“And that means shit to us when she looks like she’s scared as fuck,” I growl. 

The guy looks back and forth between me and Ryker, probably weighing up his options. He sighs and drops his wife’s wrist. 

“Sophia, do you want to stay with these guys you don’t know, or do you want to come home with me?” he asks, exasperation in his voice. 

The girl glances at me before looking back into the cruel eyes of her husband. “With you Pete,” she almost whispers. He gives me a satisfied grin and steps around us to head for the exit, Sophia follows meekly behind, ignoring Harlow’s protests.

I watch them leave before turning to Harlow who also stares after them with hurt in her eyes, “Explain.”

“She’s my friend. We moved here together and got a house. Then six months ago, she met Pete and moved in with him pretty quickly. He’s a bastard. Doesn’t let her see me or her other friends and locks her in their apartment when he goes to work. She’s scared of him, but I can’t get her away. He always seems to get her to go back.”

“Ain’t no helping someone that doesn’t want it,” I say, pulling my cigarette packet from my pocket and placing one between my lips. I head outside, leaving Ryker to comfort Harlow in the hope they’ll pick up where they left off.

I lean against the brick wall just outside the club. It’s still pretty early, and so the street is still busy with evening diners. I light my cigarette, inhaling deep and closing my eyes. The sound of a muffled sob has me opening one eye and looking around. There isn’tanyone close by and so I listen harder to see if I can locate the sound. It comes again with a low thud and I follow it to the alley way that runs between the club and the bar next door. Its where all the industrial sized bins are kept and most people avoid it because it stinks of piss and rubbish.

As I get closer, I see Harlow’s friend and her husband. He has her by the throat with his face pressed close to hers, while whispering something into her ear. Her eyes are squeezed closed and she’s quietly sobbing, causing her shoulders to shake. 

I take a few steps closer, my heavy boots crunching on the gravel, gaining his attention. He frowns, “Are you following me shit head?” He releases his woman, shoving her away from him so that she lands in a heap on the floor. “Stay down,” he orders herm before turning back to me. 

“I don’t like to hear girls cry,” I tell him, taking one last drag of my cigarette before dropping it to the ground and crushing it under my boot.

“Then go back inside and you won’t hear it.”

“I can’t do that I’m afraid,” I say, keeping my tone bored. 

“Then I’m real sorry about what’s gonna happen next,” he warns, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a blade. 

I roll my eyes at his predictability. “You don’t need to be sorry. In fact, I’m glad you pulled that out. Come at me,” I encourage, with a smile. 

He growls, lunging forward, right into my trap. I grab his wrist, letting the blade scratch my palm, before pulling him to me. I twist his hand and press the blade into his stomach. He hisses, trying to step back, but I hold him in a bear hug. “Don’t pull away now, we’re just getting to know each other.” 

The woman suddenly scrambles to her feet, rushing at me and trying hard to push between me and this dickhead. “Please stop, let him go,” she sobs, hitting at my arms.

“Lady, I’m just trying to help you,” I snap, releasing the guy and pushing him to the ground. He lands hard on the floor, groaning as he grips the blade in his stomach. The woman drops to her knees by his side, sobbing as she assesses him. It’s then that I notice a cut to her cheek and the dark bruise forming under her eye. “Why are you upset for him after what he just did?” I snap. 

She looks up at me, her face tear stained, “He will kill me for this,” she hisses, patting the guys face to keep him awake. 

“Then finish the job, do yourself a favour.”

“Why are you men so violent,” she asks, sniffling and wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “It doesn’t solve anything.”

The guys breathing becomes shallow and noisy, I must have caught him somewhere vital and I wince as he takes a few deep breaths before falling silent and slumping. Crow’ll be pissed if I call him out tonight, he’s on a hot date.

“Oh my god.” She sobs harder, leaning her ear to his mouth to check for breathing. “Pete, Pete, wake up.” She shakes him hard and his head lolls to the right. She looks up at me, “You killed him, you killed my boyfriend.” 

“I thought he said he was your husband?” I ask.

“Jesus, you killed him and you’re acting like it’s normal. You’re not even bothered are you?” 

I shrug and stuff my hands in my pockets, “Not really. It was him or me, I chose him.” 

The girl lets out another muffled sob and covers her mouth. There’s a scuffling sound behind us and I turn to see Ryker pushing Harlow against the wall. He’s got his tongue down her throat and his hands are gripping her hips as he lifts her. He must feel my presence because he suddenly breaks away from her and turns to me. “Shit man, why’re you creeping about in the alley?” he pants.

The girl stands and Harlow spots her, “Sophia?”

“Harlow, quick, Pete’s dead. He killed him,” Sofia screeches, pointing an accusing finger at me.

“Aww Man, Crow is gonna kill you,” Ryker groans, stepping around the bin to see Pete for himself. “You want me to call him?” he asks. I nod, and he pulls out his phone, making the call to get the clean-up team here. 

Harlow has Sophia in her arms, who’s still sobbing. I check out her pert backside as she’s still in her underwear, and I regret giving her to Ryker.

“We have to call the police,” sobs Sophia, and Harlow glances at me, shushing her friend and then whispering in her ear that they can’t do that. “Pete is dead, he killed him,” she repeats, and I roll my eyes, this bitch is becoming a pain in the arse.