Page 138 of A Dark Fall

“I told her some of it. She kicked me out,” I say.

“Like what?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Only what she needed to know. And only about me. She knows nothing. Calm down,” I tell him. I squeeze my eyes shut tight with my fingers.

I mean, you have to pay for your duplex apartment in Central London and your sports car somehow, right? Is that how you bought your nightclub too? You disgust me.

“Probably for the best, mate. You and her.” He shakes his head and twists his mouth up. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, she was worth a dip, but this thing long-term? Nah. Didn’t work for me,” he says conversationally, as if we’re two friends talking about women over a drink. “You’re better off out of it. Women are cunts, you know this, which is funny ’cause it’s the only thing good about them.” He chuckles at his own joke as he sips his drink.

How the fuck have I put up with his shit for fifteen fucking years?

I think about the gun in my top drawer again and plan out how quickly I could get it out and pull the trigger before he even realizes what’s happened. I’m more than halfway pissed if I’m thinking about shooting my best friend in the head in my office. I’d never dream of doing it here. Who’d help me clean up if I did?

Paul probably would. He’s never come out and said it, but I’m pretty sure he despises Kev. Yeah, he’d help.

I’m fucking drunk. Or insane.

I need a cleaner plan than that. Than shooting Kev in the fucking head. I need a plan that’ll get rid of all the dark parts of my life in one fucking go. A plan that makes me worthy of her. A plan that gets rid of the bastard sitting in front of me and the bastard he takes orders from. The same bastardItake orders from. The same bastard who calls me the son he never had.

It’s not as if the idea comes to me in a flash. It entered my mind briefly the night she told me the guy sitting across from us at dinner was some pig from the Met. Only for a second or two, but I thought about it. I thought about how I’d give up every single one of these pieces of shit if it meant I’d get to keep her. But I was a coward then.

I’m still a fucking coward. But when it creeps back into my mind now, it’s brighter and louder, and it takes the breath right out of my fucking lungs.It’s still the kind of thing reserved for the lowest of the low. For the scum and the bottom-feeders and the people without an ounce of self-respect. But that was before.Before her.

Now, getting the fuck out of the dark is all that matters. I’ve lived this life for far too long anyway. I want a different life. I always have. She offered me glimpses of it, of what my life could feel like with her in it.Sheis the life I want. And if I can pull this off, then taking her and Caleb and starting somewhere else might be possible.

My heart beats fast and loud, and whether it’s with fear or anticipation, I honestly don’t know. But my mind seems to be hurtling forward now, and there’s no way of stopping it or changing its direction. Not now.

“Kev, I have to make some calls. Do you mind?” I say as I sit up in the chair, the back of my neck prickling.

He shrugs and grabs the bottle of Jack then stands up, his knees cracking as he does. “Just tell me you’re not gonna phone her and grovel, Jay. You’re better than that.”

I shake my head. “Nah, fuck her. Plenty more where she came from,” I lie.

Lying I’m good at. Always have been.

“Good man,” he says, raising the bottle toward me. “That’s my boy. Speaking of cunts, is that hot little Gemma still working here? She has got some set of tits on her. You’ve had them, right?” He smirks.

I nod and smile back. “Yeah, they’re pretty tasty, mate. Think I saw her downstairs.”

“You’re not going back there, are you?” He leaves the question hanging, and I shrug.

“Plenty more where she came from too. Go for it. Do me a favor and try not to upset her, yeah? She’s good at her job.”

He holds his hands up as if to say, “Would I?” to which the answer is yes.

When Kev leaves, I pull out my mobile and search the number of the switchboard. Before I hit dial, I stand up and go to check both the doors to my office are locked tight, so that even someone with a code can’t get in from the outside. Then I walk across the office to the large glass window and stop.

As I look at the place again, a small tingle of uncertainty creeps over me. I worked my fucking arse off for this place. The things I did to get it I’m not proud of, but everything past the front door is legit. I’m proud of that.

Though, what does any of that mean when I disgust her, and she can’t love me? It’s a building at the end of the day. A legitimate income stream, as she called it, not a life. This place doesn’t make me smile or give me a single moment of satisfaction that comes close to what she does. She and my son are the only things that matter now. And I’ve always fucking said, if you want something, go get it. Do whatever you have to do to get it.

Guess this is where I see if I practice what I preach, huh?

The number rings through and is picked up by a bored-sounding woman who, by the sounds of it, has about ten minutes left until the end of her shift. She’s mentally clocked out already.

“Detective Mark Holmes, please,” I say.

“Who’s calling?” she asks me, still bored.