Chapter One

Pit

I flick my cigarette and watch the orange glow splinter into the darkness. Crushing it with my heavy boot, I release the smoke from my lungs. Pulling my mobile from my pocket, I accept the call from my President and press the handset to my ear. "Pres?"

"Pit, I got a lead," he says. "I'm sending the location through to the burner."

"Kay," I mutter, disconnecting before stuffing it back in my pocket. I get out the burner phone and switch it on.

The Chaos Demons have been moving drugs and weapons from warehouses across London and over to countries that pay a good price for them. But recently, we've had to stop moving everything because the boys in blue are watching us closely, which means we have a lot of units sitting full, and now, they're being hit. One by one, they've been targeted and emptied, and we're now at a four-container loss.

I stare out across the Thames. The dark, murky water offers me comfort, and I briefly close my eyes until the vibration of the phone forces me back to reality.

The address is only a few minutes away, but I head back to the bike and throw my leg over. If I leave it here, it'll get towed—London is savage for parking.

Minutes later, I pull up outside a large factory. Shadow, my Sergeant at Arms, and Grizz, my VP, are already waiting as I dismount and head over to where they wait. "Axel didn't say I'd have company," I mutter, shaking hands with each of them.

"Is it a problem?" Grizz asks.

"No problem," I reply, looking at the large building. "Are we going in or standing about talking?"

Grizz rolls his eyes and pushes the gate. It creaks open, and we edge towards the door. "You got a weapon?" he asks, looking back at me briefly before trying the door and finding it locked.

"No," I say, raising my boot and kicking it right in the centre. It pops open and I head inside.

"Fuck," mutters Grizz. "You're a loose cannon."

I pull out my phone and flick on the torch, illuminating the entrance hall. There's no sign of anyone, so I move to the first room, and again, it's empty. We continue on, opening each door to what used to be offices and finding no one.

"Pres showed us the floor plans before we came out. There's a basement," says Shadow.

"What are we waiting for?" I ask, wondering why the fuck it wasn't mentioned before.

We find the stairs that lead down, and as we get to the bottom, there's a metal gate with the lock off, slightly ajar. I listen for a second, making out the sound of humming. Pressing my finger to my lips, I indicate for the other two to stay quiet as I gently ease the gate open wider. We slip through, and I peer around the wall, spotting stacks of crates. I grin and look back at the VP, giving him a nod. Jackpot.

We move into the room, ducking behind the crates until a desk comes into view. Sitting behind it is a man I don't recognise, but I know instantly he isn't the mastermind behind it all because he's too laid back with his feet propped up on the desk, a casual T-shirt and jeans, and a pair of Crocs. Fucking Crocs. I shake my head and stand fully, moving towards him quickly. He doesn't have time to remove his feet before I have him by the throat and pinned back in the chair. He coughs violently as I restrict the airflow.

"You've got some explaining to do," I growl, releasing his throat. He inhales sharply, pulling his feet from the desk. "What the fuck have you got on your feet?" I ask.

"Fuck's sake," hisses Grizz. "Seriously, what's your problem with Crocs?"

"They're impractical for a start. If you're gonna sit down here and guard shit this important, have some good footwear so you can run away when we arrive."

Shadow begins lifting the lids on crates. "This is them," he confirms.

I punch the guy in the nose, busting it. He groans, cupping his face. "And because of your stupid footwear, you now have blood on your feet. It'll pool in those shitty shoes and you'll slip around. You'll never be able to run."

"Cut the crap," snaps Grizz. He leans on the desk, fixing the guy with a glare. "Who the fuck do you work for?"

"I just get paid to sit here," he cries, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and stem the bleeding.

"By?" Grizz pushes.

"I dunno."

I crack him in the face again. "Lies."

"I don't know," he wails louder. I deliver a precise blow to his stomach, and he doubles over, coughing again.

Grabbing a handful of his unwashed hair, I tip his head back so we're eye-to-eye. "Two seconds and I break your hand."

"I swear," he yells.

I snap his fingers back, and he screams in pain. "Let's try again."

"A man . . . important looking . . . suit, tie, the lot."

"I ain't here for a damn fairy tale," I growl. "I want names."

"We don't get that information. We just call him ‘boss'." I take his other hand, and he cries out before I've even done anything. "Okay," he yells. "Okay, I'll tell you. Alec Clay."

"It means nothing," says Grizz.

I snap the man's fingers back, and he sobs uncontrollably. "Fuck, man, I told you what I know."

"Why's he taking our shit?" I ask. "How did he know about it?"

"He had a tip-off from a copper. He's got a buyer coming later tonight. This shit's worth some money."

"And don't we know it. But it ain't his, it's ours, and we're taking it back."

"He'll kill me," he cries desperately.

"We're gonna do that anyway," I say, taking a letter opener from the desk and dragging it across his throat. He gurgles, his eyes searching my face in the slight hope I may find a smidgin of decency. I won't. I never understand why they always look so confused, like they didn't think hanging in bad circles would lead them to this moment.

I let his head fall back. His hands grip the oozing blood to no avail, and his eyes widen as he realises he's taking his final breath. I watch the life drain from his eyes, smiling as he gasps one last time.

Tessa

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I press myself into the dark corner of the room and try to control my breathing.

"Pres, we got it all back. Shadow's just counting the crates, but it looks like it's all here. We got the name . . . Alec Clay mean anything?" I peer over the stacked crates to where a man in a leather jacket is pacing while talking into a mobile phone.

Another guy in the same jacket is tacking the lids back on some of the crates. The third man is staring into the eyes of Jackson Taylor. The dead eyes. Holy shit, he's dead.

I feel panic rising again, and I squeeze my eyes closed to try to calm my racing mind. I picture my house, the one I grew up in by the coast. He's dead . I think about Trixy, the family cat we had. He slit his throat. I picture my beautiful mother, sitting on her bed, combing her gorgeous curly hair. I just witnessed a murder .

"Well, well, well . . ." My eyes shoot open and I gasp, but before I can scream, his hand covers my mouth. The same hand he just used to kill Jackson . He drags me from the corner and presses my back to his front, keeping my mouth covered as he walks me out into the open. The other two men stop what they're doing to stare at me. "We have a problem."

"Pres, I'll call you back," says the man on the phone, disconnecting the call. "Who the fuck are you?"

The man holding me uncovers my mouth, and I inhale sharply as he takes a handful of my hair instead. "You scream and I'll kill you," he warns.

"Te-Te-Tessa," I stutter.

"Well, Te-Te-Tessa, what are you doing here?" he demands.

My brain freezes. If I tell them I'm here because of Alec, they might kill me too. "Sex," I manage to say.

"You want sex?" asks the man, smirking.

"No, I'm here for sex. He . . ." I point a shaky finger in Jackson's direction and a sob escapes me. "He brought me here."

"Lies," states the man holding me. He tugs my hair harder, and I whimper. "Treat me like a personal lie detector," he hisses in my ear. "Now, get fucking talking before you end up like him." He forces my head to look in the direction of Jackson, and I close my eyes.

"I swear it," I say, my tone pleading. "It was just a hook-up."

The other man's phone rings again and he sighs. "It's the Pres again. I gotta tell him." He steps away.

The other guy checks his phone. "The van is here. I'll start loading."

"Just you and me now, Te-Te-Tessa," the man holding me hisses in my ear. I swallow the lump of anxiety in my throat. "How do you know him?"

"I don't," I say, shaking my head and causing his hold to pull tighter. I wince. "It was a hook-up app."

"Show me," he snaps, running his hand down my side until he finds my mobile in my back pocket. He holds it in front of me and the facial recognition opens it. Fuck. Now what?

"Look," I begin, holding up my hands in a placating manner, "I don't want to be here any more than you do. Just let me leave and we'll pretend we never met."

"Nice try," he mutters, scrolling through my apps, looking for one I know he won't find.

"I deleted the app," I lie.

He tugs my head back harder, and I cry out. "You better start talking, bitch, cos I'm losing my patience."

"Okay," I yell. "Okay."

The other man returns, tucking his mobile away. "We gotta take her," he says.

I shake my head. "No, please. I didn't see anything. I won't say anything to anyone. Please." I'm openly sobbing, but I don't care. I can't go with these men.

The man holding me keeps my phone and uses my hair to direct me from the basement. He doesn't seem to care I have nothing on my feet. Why the fuck did I take my heels off? Not that I could run in them anyway. How the hell did my life turn to this? I almost scoff at myself out loud. I know exactly how—Alec fucking Clay.