Page 100 of Crave

I stood, dropped a tenner on the table. “Don’t have the luxury not to.”

I was halfway to the door when Joe called after me. “Who is she, then?”

I turned. “Who?”

“This bird. The one patching you up, feeding you intel?”

I smirked, pushed the door open. “Don’t kiss and tell, Joe. You know that.”

“Well, it’s nice to know you’re kissing,” Joe called after me. “Might give you a reason to survive all this.”

I said nothing. Walked out into the rain.

Cause my reasons to survive were for more than a pretty face.

* * * *

Can’t say the next couple days were easy, though.

Fuck no.

Turning out gear without anyone noticing, keeping the runners off the street when that’s the only way they earn bread? Jesus. It was chaos. We paid them a small wage to sit tight, enough to keep lights on and mouths fed. Pulled every gram off the street. Moved it under the radar. Tyler put a man we trusted on the lock-up, had him circle the yard every hour, eyes sharp for watchers.

Hardest part? Letting everyone think we’d lost.

Ghost thinking he’d won.

Word went out that we’d folded, that the line had dried. Told the runners not to engage, no matter what deals Ghost dangled. There’d be payback later, better rates, safer work. And anyone who talked would regret it. That’s how we survived this game. Keep the noise down, keep our circle clean. Tyler wanted numbers. Kids begging. I wanted loyalty. It’s why I’d told him no kids on our payroll. Kids were flaky. They went after the cash. I wanted runners and dealers who didn’t ask questions and would bleed before they talked.

Bet he could understand that now.

So we waited.

Then I stayed in. Babysat Maisie so Keeley could get a kip. She even went out to see a mate, got some chicken, went to the cinema. And I cooked dinner for Mum. Sausages. Mash. Put peas on the plate for old times sake. And we watched some old film on telly, laughed in the right places. Like normal people. A proper family.

Then just after midnight, sirens tore through the city, echoing off glass and concrete. I left mum half asleep on the sofa to go out to the balcony. From there, I watched the blue lights pulse against the storm clouds, breaking right where I’d told Cormac it would. Hours I’d been waiting. Smoke, rain, the city holding its breath.

Then my phone buzzed.

“We’re good, boss,” Tyler said, voice crackling through the line. “Stash safe. Money untouched.”

Relief hit so hard it left me dizzy.

“—Darren got lifted.”

That cut clean through me.

“He was running for Ghost.”

For a second, everything stopped. The kettle. My pulse. The world.

I cut the call. Destroyed the phone. Then lit another cigarette.

Might have saved the Firm. But I’d lost blood.

Same equation. Every time.

I’d cleared the line. Scrubbed every trace tying me to Ghost. And still, there it was. A crack I couldn’t fix. A name leading back to mine. The papers would call it a victory. Cormac would call it profit. But all I could think was how the price always came in faces I knew.