34. Dan
DAN
Glancing towards the front of the lecture theatre to make sure our lecturer’s attention was focused elsewhere, I leaned forwards to the row in front of me, bracing my arm on the back of Liana’s chair. “Is this website legit?”
Jerking her head around to meet my gaze, she shot me a warning look. “Keep it down.”
“Li.”
With a sigh, she grabbed my phone and swung back around, her shimmering red ponytail almost whipping me across the face. I jumped back just in time. To my left, Kane growled low under his breath.
“Don’t start, Worthy. I’ve got a big issue with someone, and Li’s helping me out,” I muttered, and although I wasn’t looking at him, I just knew he was rolling his eyes.
“We know.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
He ignored my question. “Where did you go last night after the game? You were supposed to get a lift home with me, and all I got was an excuse that you needed to do something you couldn’t talk about.
I noticed you didn’t get back to the house until four in the morning, and you’ve been yawning all day today.
Did someone keep you up most of the night?
” When I turned my head to glare at him, his eyes dropped to my latest collection of Lincoln-related marks on my throat, and he smirked.
“The same person who keeps giving you all those?”
My heart rate kicked up, but I forced out a laugh. “Wow, I didn’t know you had a side hustle as my personal stalker. What were you doing awake then anyway? Any funny business you wanna make me aware of?”
A deep voice cut through our conversation. “Mr. Hoyton. Do you have something to contribute? Any scintillating morsels of wisdom you’d like to add to my lecture?”
Shit. I waved my hand in the air, shooting our lecturer a bright smile. “Me? Nope. You’re doing a great job. So great. I couldn’t possibly add anything that would improve it.”
“Then shut your mouth, before I shut it for you.”
Oh, I just loved lecturers at Cranham Uni. It was so much fun to be seated in a draughty, uncomfortable former prison hall with an ex-prison warden-slash-former wrestler giving you talks on managerial economics, interspersed with idle threats to your life.
From my other side, Jay pointedly elbowed me, and I flopped back in my seat with a sigh. A couple of minutes later, Liana coughed discreetly, handing my phone back. I reached out, glancing at my screen to find my notes app open with a message all in caps:
WTF DANIEL? WHY ARE YOU SHOWING ME SEX TOYS IN THE MIDDLE OF A LECTURE? IN FACT, WHY ARE YOU SHOWING ME SEX TOYS FULL STOP?
I groaned, balancing my phone on my thigh beneath my small fold-down table, out of sight of the lecturer. Opening up my conversation with Liana, I tapped out a quick message.
Me:
i just need to know if the site is legit. remember the big D thing? got to be prepared
I stared at the back of her head as the lecturer droned on about economic principles, hoping my psychic waves would transfer into her brain. Millions of years passed, but finally, she dipped her hand into her bag, drawing out her phone, and a minute later, I got a reply.
Liana:
Yes it’s legit. Please don’t show me pictures of sex toys in the middle of a lecture. There’s a time and a place
Me:
sorry my queen. won’t happen again
Liana:
It’s going well then? Still telling yourself he’s your enemy?
Me:
he IS my enemy
Liana:
It’s sweet how in denial you are. Does this go both ways? Does he also think you’re his enemy?
Kane nudged me, hard. “You texting my girl?” he hissed.
My brows flew up. “Your girl? Does she know that?”
“Keep your nose out of my fucking business.”
“You need anger management, bro. We’re friends. Me and her, and you and me. Remember that, yeah?”
Once again, he growled under his breath, proving my point about him needing anger management. But eventually, he deflated with a sigh. “Yeah.”
Okay, that was probably as good an acknowledgement as I was going to get from him. I returned to my text conversation with Li.
Me:
we hate each other. we’re just working out some of our shit in a more productive way
Liana:
T O X I C
I sent her a middle finger emoji, and I noticed her stifling a laugh.
Liana:
You’re so in denial, Daniel. In fact I’m going to refer to you as Denial instead of Daniel from now on. It only involves switching two letters of your name
Me:
you’re a cruel cruel woman
She replied with a kissing emoji. “Liana’s a sadist,” I said to Kane. He should be aware of this fact.
“Shut up, Hoyton.”
Rude. Glancing over to my right, ready to recruit Jay to my side, I discovered that the lecture had ended while I was engrossed in my conversation, and Jay was now leaning forwards in his seat, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend from behind and kissing her neck.
I pulled a face, leaning around his back to meet Ryker’s impassive gaze.
“King. You seeing this PDA from Banks and your sister? Gross.”
“Jealous?” Jay raised his head, smirking.
“No.” Maybe I was, a bit. Kissing Lincoln in private was one thing, but to actually be able to— Whoa. Stop right now. Lincoln bellend Bellingham didn’t factor into this. Not even a little bit. I had a great life, packed full of sexy times with many, many beautiful women, and I…
Fuck. I dropped my head to the table, groaning.
Why wouldn’t he get out of my mind? Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him every fucking second of every fucking day?
The only times I ever had a reprieve were when I was on the ice—unless I was playing against him—or doing less-than-legal shit with my family or my boys, or when I was asleep. That was it.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, then buzzed again. And again.
“Arson.”
All thoughts of Lincoln instantly wiped from my mind as I took in Ryker’s darkened eyes and clenched jaw, his fist tightening around his own phone. “What?”
“Check your messages. Now. Neil’s been injured, and shit’s going down.”
Oh, fuck.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” Neil grimaced at his right-hand man, who was being all domestic and pouring water into a glass for him after tucking his blankets around him. I smirked.
“Wow, Sid. You do have a sweet side.”
“Lies and slander, little lordling.”
“How dare you!” I gasped, placing my hand on my heart. “Neil, are you listening to this?”
“Dan,” he said wearily, and I instantly deflated. Stop using humour as a coping mechanism, idiot.
“Yeah.” I bit down on my lip, eyeing the IV line coming out of his arm with concern before my gaze flicked up to his pale face and the bruising mottling his skin. “Are you really okay? You don’t look so good.”
From the corner of the room, Dr. Attwood cleared his throat.
He’d been conferring with my mum, but now he was glancing between me, Sid, and my uncle.
“Neil will be fine now I’ve patched him up.
What he needs is rest. At least forty-eight hours, preferably more.
If I had my way, he’d be in bed for a week, but we all know that he would never agree to that. ”
“Bryan—” Neil began, but Dr. Attwood shot him a severe look.
“Bed rest. You’ve just had a blood transfusion, and you’re concussed.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” my mum added. “I’m going to be right here to make sure you don’t go against Bryan’s orders.”
“Rachel—”
“No,” my mum, Bryan, and Sid all said at the same time, and I smirked.
“We’ve got this,” Sid assured Neil, shooting me a sideways look.
I nodded immediately. Whatever it was, I was in.
Whoever had gone up against the Hoyton Firm was going to pay in blood.
Especially after roughing up my uncle. “Get a snack, maybe take a nap. You’ll need all your strength for tonight. Meet me in the cellar in two hours.”
“Got it.”
When the two of us were encased in the cellar that doubled as an armoury, I finally spoke. “Want to tell me what’s going on? I wanted to talk to you, Neil, and Mum anyway. One of the detectives showed up at my game last night. Again. Do you think this is all connected?”
Sid swore under his breath. “This isn’t good. Did you get a decent visual? Anything we can use to identify them? I’m gonna suggest to Neil that we have one of our team in attendance at your future games. Maybe Paula—she’s discreet, and she actually enjoys watching ice hockey.”
“Hey! You’d better not be suggesting you’re not into my chosen sport.”
“Daniel. Stay focused. The detective?”
“Right, yeah. Uh…I didn’t see him myself, but my—uh, a friend who was watching did. They gave me a description. Possible Lancashire accent, dark beard, around six foot in height? They said it looked like he might have some scarring on his arm, maybe.”
Sid rubbed his hand across his mouth. “Hmm. I’ll have to go through our intel with Neil when he’s back to normal, but off the top of my head, a couple of detectives come to mind. Be careful, okay? Keep Ryker and Jay in the loop, and look out for each other.”
“Already done. Do you think this is connected, then? And how does the attack on Neil factor into it all?”
“It’s complicated. Part of it is due to the Operation Foxglove investigation…”
My stomach churned. A premonition. The knowledge that this went deeper than the police investigation. “The other part?” I said slowly.
“Based on our intel, we believe that the Culverhouse Network is back in operation. Stephen’s flying back from Thailand to help out.”
I ignored the mention of my older cousin for now, my mind stuck on three words. The Culverhouse Network. The crime group that had double-crossed us and, in the process, had started the whole rivalry with the Bellinghams.
The group responsible for my dad’s death.
“The fuck?” I breathed.
“We… Neil’s been investigating for a while.
” Sid shot me an apologetic look. “He didn’t want to say anything to you until he was sure, but we think they’ve been quietly carving out a space for themselves in Wiltshire under a new name.
Now they have a solid foothold, they’ve turned their sights on us. Back for revenge, most likely.”
“This is not good. What name? How do you know?”
“The Cartwright Gang. They own a string of vape shops that we know are a front for money laundering and trafficking, and when they started expanding, getting close to our territory, we took notice. Some of them looked familiar, and Neil was worried. He’s had a small team of us discreetly investigating for the past year, gathering all the intel we could, and we’re almost certain that the Cartwright Gang is the Culverhouse Network, operating under a new name. ”
“Who’s in charge? I thought they disbanded after Frank Culverhouse died.”
His mouth twisted. “We don’t know yet. Our sources have been mostly low-level grunts who haven’t been able to tell us anything about the higher powers. Whoever is currently in charge is most likely a relative unknown to us or another associate from the original network.”
“Okay.” I exhaled, my mind racing. “So what are we dealing with now? Who hurt Neil? Was it Operation Foxglove or the Culverhouse Network? Or someone else?”
“That was one hundred percent the Culverhouse Network. We raided one of their vape shops after it turned out that warehouse belonged to them.”
“The warehouse I went to with Neil?”
Sid shot me a grin. “Yep. Wanna get payback?”
“Is that even a question?” I strode over to the large safe, unlocking it to reveal our stash of hidden goodies. Hmmm… What should I take? My knuckleduster, of course. My knife, to be on the safe side. A Taser?
“Sid? You bringing a Taser?”
He snorted. Yeah, that was a stupid question. “I have everything we need,” he assured me. “Bring anything extra you want. We’ll take the Rover.” Aka our bulletproof, probably bombproof, SUV, complete with lots of useful extras.
I grabbed an extra needle knife and a cool alarm that temporarily deafened people if you held it close to their ears, and before the safe swung closed, I quickly grabbed a small tube of liquid containing highly regulated ingredients, courtesy of Dr. Bryan Attwood.
Just in case. Okay, I was as prepared as I could be.
I just needed to send a quick text before I left.
@danhfirestarter:
might be getting into a dangerous situation tonight. just know if i die you were the best thing i ever put my dick in and I regret not knowing what it was like to feel you fuck me with your massive knob
Then I switched my phone to Do Not Disturb and followed Sid into the foyer, where a number of my uncle’s men were gathering.
It was time for payback.
A low string of curses sounded through my earpiece, followed by Paula swearing and a loud thump. I tapped once to speak into it. “Want any help?”
“Never. I can handle it.” She disconnected us, and I grinned behind my balaclava, following Sid and two of the men inside the deserted office building.
It had seen better days—now it was all peeling woodchip wallpaper, covered in thick layers of yellowing paint, carpet tiles worn thin by years of use, and a musty, stale smell that suggested that this place had once been home to a number of heavy smokers. Probably still was.
We passed several doors, lit by Sid’s torch beam, and I assumed he knew where he was going.
He never dived in without a well-thought-out plan—even if this plan had been hastily cobbled together.
Neil’s usual strategy was to hold back, to learn everything he could before planning for every eventuality in detail, but the Cartwright Gang wouldn’t be expecting us, not so soon after the attack that had temporarily incapacitated my uncle and killed two of our men. That was why we had to strike now.
Sid held up his palm, and we came to a halt. He did a complicated hand gesture, which I hoped I’d correctly translated as “Wait here while I scope out this room,” and a moment later, he was gone.
“Six men. Now,” came the whispered instruction through my headset, and the three of us remaining sprang forwards, bursting through the door into utter chaos.
My arms were yanked behind my back, and a beefy arm wrapped around my chest, pinning me in place.
I thrashed against their hold, trying to wrestle my hands free.
In front of me, Sid lunged at a man coming at him with a huge, wicked-looking knife, ducking and slashing his own knife straight into the man’s thigh.
Then a piercing pain tore through my side, searing me from the inside out.
Oh, shit.