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THIRTY-SIX
ALEC
The house was cold and darker than I remembered as I stood in the kitchen. Logan had had my payment laundered and put straight into my account, and I stared at the six-figure total on my phone screen bleakly.
I didn’t want it.
I wanted Esther.
The phone landed with a clunk as I tossed it on the counter, pushing my face into my hands. What could I do? Nothing. Useless as ever.
Outside the window two kids played, running through a sprinkler and filling the air with their tinkling laughter. Their mother sat on the front step drinking from a mug while their father came up behind her. His fingers grazed her hair gently as she leant back against his thighs, and the soft, warm scene broke me. It could have been us, given the time and freedom to be with one another. Esther could have been my happily ever after, and I could have been hers. Beneath the mafia princess exterior was a passionate, warm, wonderful woman who just wanted to be appreciated. I wanted to be the person giving that to her. To at least have the chance to try.
A timid knock on the door tore my eyes from the scene across the road. I’d been so lost in my head that I hadn’t even seen anyone approach the door. A glance out of the window had me sighing with relief. It was only Gladys.
My elderly neighbour stood on my doorstep clutching an ancient tin and set me with a warm smile when I opened the door.
‘Welcome home, lad. Thought you might like a biscuit or two.’ She entered the house without an invitation and made her way to the kitchen, ruffling around in my cupboards until she located some tea. It should have been rude, made my hackles rise, but the familiarity encased me like a cosy blanket. As if she was the granny I didn’t have.
‘I can do that,’ I said, taking over the tea preparation and directing her to a seat.
‘How were the travels?’
I’d given her a key when I’d left so she could get in if there were any emergencies, but I’d fobbed her off with it being a business meeting abroad. I hadn’t expected to be away for weeks. I sat across from her, her kind eyes making my chest hollow. I wanted to talk, to spill my agonies, but I kept it in as always.
‘It was alright, there were a few complications, which is why I was gone so long.’
Gladys watched me as she sipped her tea, pushing the open box of cookies toward me. ‘I don’t think that’s the truth, Alec.’
I swallowed as I took a biscuit, taking a large bite and closing my eyes as the sweet, sugary delight hit my tongue. God, I’d missed her baking.
‘I... There’s a lot to know to understand.’
‘I’ve nothing but time, as you know.’
Could I tell her? Would she hate me if she knew what I was?
‘You know I grew up in care, and that when I left, I was on my own. Well, I struggled to find employment. Without an address, places wouldn’t take a risk on me, and without a job, I couldn’t get a place. Eventually, I was picked up by a gang, and started doing low-level jobs for them.’
‘Illegal jobs?’ she asked, picking out a small biscuit of her own and dipping it into her tea before taking a bite.
‘Yes. Mostly. But I was good at it. I thrived. I earned enough to get a small room in a bedsit and finally had something to call my own. I dreamed of owning a nice house in a pleasant area, somewhere where I could be happy. Over the years, I advanced upward until I reached where I am now.’
‘And what is it you do now?’
Pinpricks tingled up my spine as I met her eyes. I didn’t see judgement there. No, she looked at me openly, neither fearful nor disgusted.
‘I’m an enforcer for one of the top crime syndicates in Glasgow.’
Her eyes widened slightly before she reached out and patted my hand. ‘You survived despite a terrible start. No one can begrudge you that. So tell me about this job.’
‘There’s a woman.’
Gladys smiled wryly, her eyes glittering at that snippet. ‘Go on.’
‘She’s my boss’s daughter. He arranged her marriage to a rival gang’s leader, and the guy is a terrible man. While none of us are saints, he’d make the devil himself seem reasonable. So she ran away, and they tasked me with bringing her home.’
‘To a man she despised?’ The words were like a gut punch.
