Page 43 of Scars of Silk

“Hey,” I answer, straightening up from the kitchen floor and keeping my voice cool despite the heat rising up the back of my neck.

“Yo, Danny boy. How’s the bruises?”

I rub at the back of my neck. “Sore, again.”

He snorts. “Looks like you’ve got a rest this week though, my man. The police have had a word.”

“A word? What do you mean?” Why does it sound like my balls haven’t dropped?

“Nah, stupid bastards, shut me down, ain’t they.”

“Shit, Vinny. That’s a pain in the ass.”

“I know. You wanna get back in the ring hey? You’re a devil for the punishment, Danny.”

“That’s me,” I lie. Well half a lie. It was me until some point within the last twenty-four hours when a complete stranger with a penchant for kinky sex changed everything.

“I won’t lie, Vin, I probably need a rest this week, anyway. It was messy Friday night.”

He snorts. “We took an absolute killing. The crowd love that desperate edge of losing your shit vibe you’ve got going on.”

“Great.” I laugh, but it sounds all wrong. “I live to please.”

“Ah, now, Danny, that makes me happy to hear. You know how people gossip down here. Everyone pointing fingers, working out who might have called in the pigs.”

“Well it wasn’t me.”

“You gonna come and get your earnings?”

“Later. Keep them for me, yeah?”

“Sure. We’ll be up and running in a week or two once we’ve found a new warehouse. You’ll be first in the ring.”

“Great.”

“Stay out of trouble.” It’s not a suggestion.

“Always. Let me know if you hear anything.”

“Oh I will, Danny Boy. Oh I will.”

The line cuts off and I stand for a moment. Not much scares me. I’ve lived through enough to have a limited amount of triggers left. But Vinny Wayland has a bad side I don’t want to meet, want no one I know to meet.

Sighing, I lean back against the kitchen counter and pinch the bridge of my nose. Vinny had come into the shop the day after Faith went back to London. The day I realised our short foray into no-man’s-land between friends and something else was nothing more than her blocking her heart to her emotions.

I’d done Vinny a skull and crossbones on his shin when he commented on how I’d maintained my bulk despite not being at his gym. Maybe he’d seen how angry and desperate I was. I don’t know. Maybe he saw money and someone who wanted to die. No one held a gun to my head and told me I had to take him up on the offer of a fight. I’d gone into it with my eyes open, hoping to never come back out.

“Shit, Sienna.” I throw my phone on the side and stalk back into the lounge. The sofa is outside the front door. I’ve already called the council to come and collect it. I push at one of the large leather armchairs to move it over into the space the sofa once inhabited. The lounge is lacking in furniture, but it’s okay. All this cream leather was Dad’s choice, not something I’d go for myself. He will hardly tell me off for wasting a good three piece. I realise that now.

I’m taking down the pictures off the wall and adding them to a pile of sketches I found in the upstairs bedroom when the doorbell rings.

My stomach chills and it’s impossible not to think it’s Vinny come to have a 'chat' face to face. Maybe he’s come to pay me my winnings and kneecap me.

I pull on the door puffing out my chest ready to take anything that comes, but my air leaves my lungs in one long whoosh of air.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I look into the absurdly handsome, best friend stealing face of Elijah Fairclough; His Lordship.

“Hey, Dan. I’ve just met Sienna, and Faith’s lawyer for a meeting. I thought I’d stop by.”