“I wouldn’t say four thousand pounds isnothing,” he said, his dark eyes drilling into me. I shuddered. I hated that I was so much smaller than him and that he could look down on me. “So, where’s my money, Kate?”
“I don’t have it,” I said, knowing there was no point in arguing. My voice sounded remorseful, despite the fact that I didn’t owe Randell anything. My mum had borrowed nearly five thousand pounds from him, and since she’d died, he was convinced it wasmy responsibility to pay him back. I’d managed to pay off a little, but there was still a lot to go.
“Have you forgotten what will happen if you don’t pay?” he asked, taking a step towards me. Up close, I could see that his pupils were dilated. He was clearly high.
I pressed my lips together and shook my head.
“So, why don’t you have my money?”
“It’s been a tough few weeks.” It had actually been a tough few months, but the last thing I wanted was to give Randell more insight into my thoughts and feelings. He’d ruthlessly use whatever he found against me.
He tutted, disappointed, and then stepped even closer. He dropped his voice to a whisper when he next spoke, as if he wanted to let me in on a secret. “You don’t have to be on the streets stealing to get my money together. You can work off your debts in a more personal way.”
“How?” I asked before I could stop myself, although I knew better than to get caught up in his games.
He raised a hand to stroke my cheek. I desperately wanted to flinch away from his touch, but I had my back against the wall. Literally. His fingers traced a line down to my mouth, and he fixed his gaze on my lips before running his dirty thumb over them. His silence spoke volumes. But I’d rather end up in prison for stealing than have sex with my mother’s ex-boyfriend. The thought alone made me feel sick. How could Randell not be disgusted by himself?
I jerked my head away. “Over my dead body, you gross wanker.”
“That can be arranged,” Edwin growled. He had stopped searching my rucksack but clung on to the stolen eighty pounds.
Randell smirked. “That won’t be necessary. Kate knows what’s at stake, don’t you?” he asked. He didn’t wait for my answer, taking the money from Edwin. “I expect another five hundred pounds from you within a couple of days. This is my interest. If I don’t get my money on time, things will get ugly. Understood?”
I didn’t reply.
“Understood?” repeated Randell more forcefully.
I nodded.
He smiled and took a step back. “Wonderful. See you around,Kaitlynn. And don’t bother hiding from me. I’ll find you.”
I gritted my teeth. He knew very well how much I hated that name, especially coming from his mouth. With a self-satisfied grin, he turned away and climbed the stairs. Edwin scowled at me and dropped my rucksack, then turned to follow Randell out. I didn’t move, didn’t even dare breathe a sigh of relief until I heard the roar of the car engine.
My heart raced and my legs felt like jelly. Randell had let me go with a warning this time, but I knew from experience how nasty things could get.
I crouched down next to my rucksack. Edwin had rummaged through its contents, but nothing was damaged—not the envelope of photographs nor the old children’s book my mum used to read to me back when the world still made sense. I put everything back in its place and wondered where the hell I’d find five hundred pounds.
2
Welcome to The Darlington!
The Darlington is London’s most luxurious five-star hotel. Located in the heart of the city on the bank of the Thames, it garners international acclaim for its impressive rooms, exclusive service, and timeless elegance. Step inside!
Excerpt from The Darlington Hotel’s website
Henry
My arms trembled.
My thighs throbbed.
My back burnt.
I felt incredible.
I gritted my teeth, relying on sheer willpower to resist letting go and welcoming the fall. If I did that, it would be over, and at the end of the fall, discussions and decisions awaited me, not to mention questions from the press about the protest that had blocked Westminster Bridge for hours yesterday. But as long as I kept a tight hold on the crimps and jugs on the bouldering wall, I didn’t have to think about any of it. I only had to think about whether my muscles could take me even higher.
I assessed my position, picked a hold I could reach, and pushed myself up higher to grab it. My fingers were dry from chalk. The only sound in the bouldering gym was my own controlled breathing. The gym was usually still closed at this time, but I paid a lot of money to have it opened for me—and only me—because I needed it. Now more than ever.
