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By the time I get to my car there’s a video on my phone from Dylan: the surveillance footage from the lock-up. It shows the empty street, no one around, then a police patrol car rolls into view. It’s still light, so it must have been earlier this evening. It cruises to the end of the road and stops beside Jimmy’s empty car, presumably while they run a check on the plate. The officers get out and look in through the windows of the car, then go to the lock-ups and try the doors, one by one. I watch them look around, speak into the radio, get back into the patrol car and drive away.
I delete the video and pull out of the car park. I meet Dylan and Bram a few streets away from the lock-up.
‘Where are the boys?’ I say.
‘Rich and Jimmy are in the lock-up,’ Bram says, his hands stuffed into his pockets. ‘They’re getting everything ready to shift.’
‘Where we going to put the stuff?’ I look at Dylan. ‘Is there space at Delfshaven?’ We have a smaller lock-up garage on the other side of the river.
‘Yeah.’ D nods.
‘How much of it is left?’ I ask Bram. ‘Will it fit?’
‘About a third. We’ve shifted quite a bit but just haven’t had time to do it all.’
‘Let’s go, then.’
Dylan gets into the car with me and Bram follows as I drive the two streets over to the lock-up. The road is empty apart from Jimmy’s car. We get out, jog across the street and Dylan bangs on the door. Rich opens it and we duck inside. A van is already in there. Jimmy is busy loading it.
‘Hi, D, Coach Slater,’ he says.
‘We’re going to Delfshaven,’ I tell them and they both nod in acknowledgement.
They finish loading and I toss my keys to Dylan. ‘Take my car.’ I climb into the van and Rich gets in beside me. Dylan opens the lock-up door and Rich eases the van out onto the street.
We follow Bram to the garage, with Dylan and Jimmy behind us. It’s not far but we drive slowly; the last thing we need is to get pulled over with all the illegal weapons we’ve got in the back. I scan the buildings and side streets as we pass, searching for any signs of police.
We stop at the garage and wait. Bram’s car is in front of us, the lights off. I watch as he gets out and moves quickly to the garage. Dressed in all black, he’s a shadow in the darkness. When the doors are open, Rich reverses the van inside and Bram closes the door.
There’s a bang on the door and Bram lets Jimmy in. He and Rich begin unloading.
‘How soon can you shift the rest of this?’ I ask Bram, shifting my weight from foot to foot. The sooner we’re shot of this lot, the better.
‘Dunno, I’ll call later him. Hopefully he’ll be able to take it within days.’
‘Good. You heard from Bana?’
He glances at me. ‘Yeah, earlier.’
‘Was he still pissed?’
‘I gave him a bag of cash which sweetened his mood.’
‘Good. He’s the type that holds a grudge.’
Bram pats me on the back. ‘He’ll get over it. He’ll find another friend to replace Solo and it’ll all be forgotten.’
‘Hmm.’ As long as he doesn’t go after Dale. I couldn’t give a shit what he does. ‘I just hope that telling him Dale belongs to me doesn’t make her a target.’
‘He ain’t got beef with you, Slate.’
‘He didn’t have beef with me, you mean. Not until I killed Solo. And now I’ve exposed my weakness.’
‘Is she your only weakness? If someone wants to hurt you they could hit the gyms, the new bar, me or Carl or the other guys. Anything.’
‘You guys can handle yourselves and who gives a fuck about a gym? We can rebuild a gym.’
Bram pulls a bemused face. ‘Who gives a fuck about a gym? Easy, bro. That’s our life you’re dissing there.’
‘It’s just material, Bram. We can rebuild anything, as long as we’re still living.’
He shakes his head. ‘I hate it when you get all deep.’
‘Look, I’m going to give Angelo a call, see if there’s anything up.’
Jimmy and Rich finish unloading. This garage is wider but not as deep as the other one. There’s a fridge, a sink and an old sofa in the corner.
‘You guys stay here. Should only be a few more days.’
They look like they’ve been living in a car for the past week, which is probably just about the truth, so having a sofa will be a luxury. Both of them will get a big payout for this job; loyalty is always rewarded.
It’s late when I get home. I promised Dale I wouldn’t be late home again and now I am. She’ll have had to fall asleep alone. I hate that, especially as we argued before I left.
I go to the kitchen. She’s cleaned up the smashed glass and the remains of our ruined dinner. I take a bottle of water from the fridge and go to my bedroom, looking forward to finding her in my bed.
The bed is empty. Down the hall, her door is closed. I silently open it. She’s sleeping in her own bed, her dark hair spread around her face, the covers pulled up part way, her breasts visible through the thin fabric of the T-shirt she’s wearing.
Part of me wants to wake her, to take her to my bed and fuck her. But the other part is angry. She hasn’t got over our argument and that irritates me. I leave her and go to my room.
She’ll join me in the night, anyway. When she wakes up, she’ll swallow her pride and come to me. Then I might just make her swallow a whole lot more. My cock hardens at the thought, which irritates me because she’s not there to help me with it.
I stretch. I need to work out. I haven’t been training enough since I met Dale. I need to get back in the gym. Tomorrow, I’ve got a couple of personal training bookings. I’ll include some sparring with the clients to keep my own fitness up. I take a quick shower then get into bed, leaving the door open for Dale to join me.
The next morning I’m still alone. I dress in my polo shirt and shorts, ready for work at the gym, then check on her; her bedroom door is still closed. I go to the kitchen, make my breakfast and sit down to eat it, my eyes fixed on her door, waiting for her to appear. She doesn’t. She’s going to let me go to work without speaking to me. I half wish I could walk out the door, but I can’t. I have to speak to her.
I go to her room and knock, not waiting for her to answer before opening the door. She’s dressed and sitting on the bed, her back to me.
‘I’m going to work,’ I mutter.
She turns, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
‘OK.’ She nods.
I feel my chest clench at her sadness.
‘I’ll be home around six.’ My tone is tender now.
‘OK.’
I want to say something else, but I don’t, I just turn and leave.