much shit as he could down here before meeting up with Kenny and the other guys to go collecting Eddie’s money from the pubs and clubs. Then he’d finally be free to go to Damien’s party – and, man , was he looking forward to that, because Damien’s sister and her mates were bound to get wasted and start dirty dancing. And once they got going it was touchy-feely lesbo-hooker action all the way. Carl couldn’t wait!
8
Carl’s day had gone a lot slower than he’d anticipated. His customers had come along in dribs and drabs so he’d been forced to stay down by the canal for far longer than he’d wanted to. And, so far, the night hadn’t been much better because the pub managers had seemed determined to hold up the handovers for as long as possible. But, finally, they were on their last pick-up and he couldn’t wait to get it over and done with so he could get to Damien’s.
He, Kenny, Matt and Daz had just arrived at Frost, a seedy little club situated in an old warehouse in a particularly rough area on the outskirts of Gorton. There were no houses nearby and the no-through road was way off the beaten track so there was no danger of casual passers-by or locals catching onto what they were doing and calling the police.
But the same remoteness that made Frost a sitting duck for Eddie’s protection racket also made the crew vulnerable should a rival gang decide to muscle in and take it as their own. So they were alert as they got out of the motor now, watching out for silhouettes in the parked cars that were dotted around.
Carl went inside with Kenny and Matt when they reached the door, leaving Daz outside to keep an eye on the bouncers and watch out for police.
It was half-one by now, and this club closed at two on Sundays so the DJ had already started playing his wind-down music. Leaning against one of the pillars as Kenny and Matt made their way to the manager’s office, Carl watched the desperate antics of the customers making their last-ditch attempts to find a bedmate for the night.
Outside, Daz had wandered around the corner into the shadows at the side of the club. He was supposed to watch the door but he figured it could take care of itself for a few minutes while he had a couple of lines of speed. Eddie didn’t like them getting high on the job but Daz was safe as long as Kenny didn’t find out and grass him up.
Just as he’d finished he heard the sound of footsteps. Thinking it might be Kenny checking up on him, he wiped his nose and rushed back out to the road. But it wasn’t Kenny, it was a drunken girl.
‘All right, love.’ He nodded as she staggered towards him. ‘Off home?’
‘Yeah,’ she slurred, grinning up at him. ‘Wanna come with me, handsome?’
‘Wish I could,’ Daz drawled, looking her over. Her dress was short and tight, and her hair was all mussed up from dancing.
The girl took a step towards him and giggled when her heel caught on the concrete. She fell against him. ‘Oooh, you’re a big boy, aren’t you?’ she purred when he caught her. ‘Bet you work out.’
‘A bit,’ Daz admitted, catching the scent of her perfume mixed with the alcohol on her breath and feeling a stirring down below.
‘I like a man who works out,’ she said huskily, giving him the green light with her eyes as she stroked his arms. ‘They reckon it makes you last longer ’cos of all those push-ups. Is that true?’
‘Why don’t you come and find out?’ Daz suggested. He grabbed her hand and led her back into the shadows as the temptation became too strong to resist.
The doormen watched as Daz and his conquest disappeared. Then, exchanging a quick glance, they checked that the road was clear and went inside, locking the door behind them.
Carl turned his head when he felt a tap on his shoulder. ‘Yeah?’
‘Your mate’s getting jumped outside,’ one of the doormen told him. ‘Just thought you’d want to know – ’cos there’s three of them.’
Tutting, Carl pushed
8
Carl’s day had gone a lot slower than he’d anticipated. His customers had come along in dribs and drabs so he’d been forced to stay down by the canal for far longer than he’d wanted to. And, so far, the night hadn’t been much better because the pub managers had seemed determined to hold up the handovers for as long as possible. But, finally, they were on their last pick-up and he couldn’t wait to get it over and done with so he could get to Damien’s.
He, Kenny, Matt and Daz had just arrived at Frost, a seedy little club situated in an old warehouse in a particularly rough area on the outskirts of Gorton. There were no houses nearby and the no-through road was way off the beaten track so there was no danger of casual passers-by or locals catching onto what they were doing and calling the police.
But the same remoteness that made Frost a sitting duck for Eddie’s protection racket also made the crew vulnerable should a rival gang decide to muscle in and take it as their own. So they were alert as they got out of the motor now, watching out for silhouettes in the parked cars that were dotted around.
Carl went inside with Kenny and Matt when they reached the door, leaving Daz outside to keep an eye on the bouncers and watch out for police.
It was half-one by now, and this club closed at two on Sundays so the DJ had already started playing his wind-down music. Leaning against one of the pillars as Kenny and Matt made their way to the manager’s office, Carl watched the desperate antics of the customers making their last-ditch attempts to find a bedmate for the night.
Outside, Daz had wandered around the corner into the shadows at the side of the club. He was supposed to watch the door but he figured it could take care of itself for a few minutes while he had a couple of lines of speed. Eddie didn’t like them getting high on the job but Daz was safe as long as Kenny didn’t find out and grass him up.
Just as he’d finished he heard the sound of footsteps. Thinking it might be Kenny checking up on him, he wiped his nose and rushed back out to the road. But it wasn’t Kenny, it was a drunken girl.
‘All right, love.’ He nodded as she staggered towards him. ‘Off home?’
‘Yeah,’ she slurred, grinning up at him. ‘Wanna come with me, handsome?’
‘Wish I could,’ Daz drawled, looking her over. Her dress was short and tight, and her hair was all mussed up from dancing.
The girl took a step towards him and giggled when her heel caught on the concrete. She fell against him. ‘Oooh, you’re a big boy, aren’t you?’ she purred when he caught her. ‘Bet you work out.’
‘A bit,’ Daz admitted, catching the scent of her perfume mixed with the alcohol on her breath and feeling a stirring down below.
‘I like a man who works out,’ she said huskily, giving him the green light with her eyes as she stroked his arms. ‘They reckon it makes you last longer ’cos of all those push-ups. Is that true?’
‘Why don’t you come and find out?’ Daz suggested. He grabbed her hand and led her back into the shadows as the temptation became too strong to resist.
The doormen watched as Daz and his conquest disappeared. Then, exchanging a quick glance, they checked that the road was clear and went inside, locking the door behind them.
Carl turned his head when he felt a tap on his shoulder. ‘Yeah?’
‘Your mate’s getting jumped outside,’ one of the doormen told him. ‘Just thought you’d want to know – ’cos there’s three of them.’
Tutting, Carl pushed
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