Page 49 of Pursuing Lilly


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“It’s been interesting. I may need your help with Antonio’s disappearance.”

“You got any leads?” I don’t have any jurisdiction in the city, but I followed the case, knowing the kid was related to Dom and Dan. But there’s been no trace of him.

“I’m following a woman. Her son ran in the same circles. You might know him. He worked for Victor Rourke.”

My jaw clenches when I hear the name. We’ve been after him for years. He makes Levi look like a kid with a few bags of candy compared to the operation he’s running. But so far, he’s beenuntouchable and elusive, covering his tracks while everyone else does his bidding.

“You think this girl has something to do with it?” I lean over to take my shot, seeing Kane get impatient. He never gets involved with our work. He has enough on his plate and opts for the simple life now, fixing cars and making furniture. Just enough jobs to keep a roof over his head.

“Nah, but I’m certain her son did. He’s also done a runner.” Dan takes a sip of his pint. The tattoos on his knuckles match Dom’s, but Dan’s older by a few years. He’s always been like a big brother to all of us. One we can rely on when we need him.

“Send me all the details. I’ll see what I can find out.” Lifting my drink to my mouth, I knock back the last of my non-alcoholic beer. “I’ll get the next round,” I say as I give Dan my pool cue. “Kick Kane’s arse while I’m gone.”

He laughs. “Always happy to do that.”

“Like to see you try,” Kane mumbles as he pots this next ball.

I leave them to it as I walk into the main room of the bar. The local band plays their usual Thursday night set and I nod along to the music. As I wait to be served, I can see through the bar into the other room. There’s a bitter taste in my mouth as I lock eyes with Asher Sinclair.

He says something to some punk as he returns my glare. The years I spent trying to help him were wasted. There’s no helping someone like him. Hopefully Lilly’s realised that not everyone can be saved. If I see him sniffing around her, I’ll have him thrown back in the slammer quicker than he can get his next fix.

By the time I’ve been served, he’s disappeared. Hopefully for good. I hand Kane his pint as Dan clears up on the pool table.

“What’s rattled your cage?” Kane asks.

My jaw tenses. “Fucking Asher. Did you know he was out of the nick?”

Kane nods, knowing how much I fucking hate him. “Yeah, I’ve seen him around. Seems to be doing all right.”

“You know, there’s been a load of robberies on the Bayview estate lately.”

“He looks clean to me. You can’t blame him for every robbery around here. There must be a hundred smack heads about.”

“Why are you defending him?”

Kane shrugs. “Feel sorry for the kid, that’s all.”

“He’s a grown fucking man who should know better.”

“Yeah, but he was a kid when he got into all that messed up shit. He’s just trying to survive like the rest of us.” Kane pulls a tin from his pocket. “Coming for a smoke?”

“Sure.” I turn to Dan, but he’s talking to one of the bikers, an old pal of his.

Kane follows behind me as I push the back door open, stepping into the cool night air.

In the darkness, Ash takes a packet from someone and slips it into his pocket. “Fuck. Get outta here,” he says, and the guy rides off on a motorcycle.

Before Ash can move, I race the few steps towards him behind the bins and throw him up against the wall. “You fucking piece of shit. You think you can deal round here?”

“I’m not dealing.” He narrows his eyes, baring his teeth. He’s bulked up since the last time I saw him. Though his voice is slurred and the lines around his sunken eyes are deep. Years of incarceration taking its toll.

I examine his pupils under the outdoor light above us. “Then what the hell was that?” I spin him around, pushing his chest against the wall. “I’m searching you for the illegal possession of class A drugs.”

“Fuck’s sake, you’re not even on duty. Don’t you ever give it a rest?”

“Not when scumbags like you are dealing in my backyard.” I pat him down, going straight for his pocket, before reaching in to retrieve the bag of powder. “Were you selling this?”

“It’s not mine.”