HIT ME: A Costa del Crime romantic suspense novel (The Bailey Boys Book 2) by Adams PJ

Author:Adams, PJ [Adams, PJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: James Grieve Press
Published: 2016-08-14T07:00:00+00:00

14

Anton caught my eye and gave a slight nod. For a moment I thought he’d decided that now was the time for us to square up, then he said, “He’s coming.”

I glanced towards the fire exit just as the door swung open.

A young, skinny guy stepped out, his features almost luminously pale in the dark of the alley.

I slipped deeper into the shadows and moved around to the right.

The kid paused, fumbling for something in the pocket of his cargo pants. Cigarettes and a lighter – he clearly wasn’t in any kind of hurry.

You should be, kid. Oh, you should be.

Just as the lighter flared into life, Anton stepped out of the shadows. The kid looked up. Anton must have been an intimidating sight, but hardly threatening with his wrist in plaster.

The young dealer looked quickly left to right, seemed to decide Anton was alone, gave a visible shrug and turned as if to leave.

Then Stefan stepped into view, a slightly more intimidating sight at a good six inches taller and swinging a baseball bat from one hand.

Now the kid raised both hands, the unlit cigarette hanging briefly from his lips and then falling away to the ground.

My heart was pumping, my senses heightened.

It’s not that I enjoy the prospect of doing someone harm, but... there’s the sense of the perfectly executed trap, the altered state you get into when the action kicks in. The closest thing in my experience was MMA, when you’re in the cage and it’s only you and your opponent, and it’s not about hurting him, it’s about beating him, executing the perfect move, being the best.

Once you’ve tasted that buzz there’s no going back.

A mutter of words from Anton and the kid’s hands nudged higher.

“Whoa,” he said. “Let’s be cool, okay, man?”

I don’t know why I was surprised he was English, his accent from somewhere in the Midlands. Was that another thing that amused Markov, setting me on one of my own?

And all the time, the kid had shuffled sideways, careful to keep facing Stefan and Anton. He was young, but he wasn’t stupid, then: even as he delayed he was plotting his escape, making sure he was closest to the open end of the alleyway where he might be able to lose himself in the late-night crowds.

Only he hadn’t spotted me yet.

I chose that moment to step out of the shadows, but he had his back to me.

I scuffed a foot and his whole frame twitched.

He didn’t look back, though. Didn’t have to. He knew I was there, and by now he must know that the last guy to appear out of the shadows when the trap has been sprung is the one who’s really going to scare the shit out of you.

“You should be more careful, son,” I said, my voice softer than usual so he would have to strain. “You can’t go selling your shit just anywhere without protection, and as far as I can see you don’t have any protection.”

There’s a

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