Read Taken Online

Authors: Jacqui Rose

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #General, #Mystery & Detective

Taken (22 page)

BOOK: Taken
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‘Vaughn.’ The booze was making Casey unable to form her words without slurring. She desperately wanted him to stop before he walked into the Soho night. She had a sudden fear she wouldn’t see him again if she let him go.

‘Vaughn, wait.’

He turned round and she could see he was desperate for some kind of explanation for her making a drunken fool of herself on stage and being fawned over by a complete stranger.

Now he’d turned round, Casey had no idea what to say. How could she explain the stranger she was about to go off with only meant she was struggling to cope? He meant nothing, but it was easier for her to destroy herself than to feel the pain.

‘I told you not to get involved with me; I said it was complicated.’

Vaughn came up to her and she turned her face away, but he grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn and look at him.

‘This isn’t complicated, Casey. This is you being the drunken bitch you really are.’

Casey slapped him hard on the cheek and Vaughn clenched his jaw, angry and in unfamiliar emotional pain. She looked at him and knew it was this she’d been trying to avoid; she’d never wanted to hurt anyone but it seemed wherever she went, the hurt she was carrying also destroyed those around her.

‘Vaughn.’

It was the only word she could think of to say. She reached out to touch his hand and then watched him shrink back. Casey thought there was nothing like the taste of rejection to sober her up.

‘At the station; that was my husband.’

‘Christ, it gets better, Casey.’

‘He wanted me to sign some divorce papers.’

‘And then you thought you’d come and celebrate by getting pissed and picking up some wanker of a guy.’

‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘No? Well it looked like that from where I was standing.’

‘I can’t explain.’

‘No, you can’t, at least not to me anyway. I’ve been a fucking chump haven’t I? You’ve played me like a fucking violin. Well and truly taken me for a cunt.’

‘Me? I told you I didn’t want to get involved.’

‘Well what was that back at your flat if it wasn’t getting involved?’

‘That was just sex, Vaughn, nothing more.’

She was lying and she hoped he could see it but he looked too angry and hurt right now. It was a stupid thing to say and she knew it. She paused and for a moment she wanted to tell him everything; she wished he’d say something, but all she got was a flicker of a twitch on his right cheek as he continued to stare. Determined not to cry, Casey pulled her coat jacket tight around her as she forced back the tears. Vaughn didn’t even reply as he turned away, walking into the crowds of the late night revellers.

From behind she felt someone touch her; she turned round to face Alfie handing her a tissue.

‘You don’t want to be standing here crying, girl, haven’t you learnt by now us men aren’t worth it? He’ll be back if I know Vaughn. Got a lot of pride has Mr Sadler.’

Casey shook her head.

‘Jesus wept, why are women so pessimistic? Trust me. How’s about you come with me and I’ll cheer you up; after all what are friends for?’

With his hand in the arch of her back, Alfie gently guided her towards his flat, checking to make sure Vaughn had gone. He’d have to leave speaking to Janine about the ticket for another day; it could wait, he had other matters to deal with now. By rights he should be trying to throttle Casey, not fucking her. She’d been snooping into his business and he wasn’t happy, but like everything else he needed to deal with it could wait. His cock couldn’t, especially when there was a bit of top class cunny to be had.

He’d been right about Casey being a lush, but it hadn’t stopped him wanting her, and now Vaughn had seen what she was really like there was nothing to stop him stepping in; in fact sleeping with Casey might even work to his advantage. Vaughn had fucked him off and however petty it seemed, it was his way of getting back at him. Hopefully it would make him see sense and stop him behaving like he’d swallowed a Girl Guides handbook.

He looked down as Casey stumbled and he smiled, thinking how surprisingly easy it was to get women into bed, especially the vulnerable and the fucked-up ones – and Casey was certainly a bit of both.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Vaughn wanted to kill someone. He wasn’t particular who it was, anyone would do, and he wanted to do it the old-fashioned way. Slowly, and using his hands. He knew it wasn’t like him to feel like this: all his life he’d hated the violence which came with his lifestyle and now all he could think about was hurting someone; anyone. He was consumed with rage and had nearly called one of his old associates to go out on a job with them so he’d have an excuse to batter someone senseless.

He was hurting, and he was so unused to it the only way he thought he could get rid of the pain was by hurting someone else. He tried to calm himself down by replanting some roses in his hothouse, but he’d got annoyed when he’d pricked his finger and ended up throwing the pot along with the roses at one of the large window panes, causing a huge crack to appear which had pissed him off even more.

He wanted a large scotch but it was only going to remind him of Casey and the last thing he wanted to do was think of her. How could he have been so fucking stupid? She’d told him herself she didn’t want to get involved but he thought after the day they’d made love, things had changed.

No matter what she had said about that night, he knew it’d been special; he’d shagged enough women to know the difference, and all she’d done was throw it in his face. Fucking hell, he was starting to sound like a woman.

Pacing up and down in his state-of–the-art kitchen, Vaughn decided that if this is what love did to you, he was better off without it. He stopped dead in his tracks as the word struck him. Did he love her? Was this what it was all about? If he did, he was a prize cunt for doing so. Alfie had been right about her, though deep down he wasn’t certain if he really believed that; but he had to snap out of the way he was feeling. And then it occurred to him what he needed to do; he was going to fuck her out of his system; he was going to get a brass or several, however many it took; he was going to get his brains fucked out good and proper. Convinced it would make him feel better, Vaughn Sadler picked up the phone and called one of his contacts.

Alfie casually glanced over at Casey, who was fast asleep. The night hadn’t gone as he’d expected. Stupidly, he’d offered her some red wine and she’d gulped it down more like a whale than a fish. After polishing off the bottle, she’d spent the next couple of hours vomiting her guts out. Eventually she’d passed out on the sofa, where he’d undressed her and put her into his bed. He‘d been tempted to fuck her there and then whilst she was out for the count, but as sensual as her naked body had looked, the stench of vomit emanating from her had put pay to his boner.

Now she was sober he knew he wouldn’t be getting any action. She’d been contrite and full of guilt in between throwing up in the toilet, and she’d drunkenly rambled on about Vaughn, professing her true feelings for him. All this heart stuff with Vaughn wasn’t good for his friend; it was making him soft, and he needed to nip it in the bud before it went any further – but as nothing had happened there was nothing to rub in his face to bring him back down to earth.

Whilst Alfie was chewing things over a thought came to him. Perhaps he’d make Vaughn
think
he’d actually fucked her; it was a way to stop him acting like a Good Samaritan. He knew it was childish, but he was too pissed off at the moment to care.

Ultimately Alfie also knew Vaughn had a short attention span when it came to women; he’d soon get bored of Casey anyway, so no real harm was going to be done. And when Alfie looked at it like that he could see he was actually doing Vaughn a favour, though he wasn’t sure his friend would see it that way.

He looked at himself in the large Venetian oval mirror; he was still looking good, and much younger than his age, but he could see the odd line appearing round his eyes and he was certain the stress of the past couple of weeks had caused it. As he continued to inspect himself, he heard Casey snoring lightly and it immediately got on his nerves. He turned round and picked up a pillow, throwing it gently at her head. As Casey started to stir the phone rang; it was Oscar, wanting his money.

‘Alfie, first things first, you know what day it is don’t you?’

Alfie wanted to tell him to fuck off and stick his money where the only thing that shined was a bum bandit’s knob, but he thought better of it.

‘I haven’t got it yet, but the day isn’t over.’

‘Sounds to me like you might be struggling. I’ll give you till the end of the day, but I’m going to take some insurance out just in case you don’t get it, Alf. I’m taking the girls from the club.’

‘You can’t do that.’

‘Oh but you’ll find I can, and I have already. Bear in mind it’s you who owes me, not the other way round; besides which there’s a party I’m going to take them to.’

‘Don’t you think that’s risky?’

‘No. The sort of party this is, no one will be talking. Sometimes it can get a bit wild but that’s why Jason pays so well; it’s hard for him to find girls where no questions will be asked if they don’t come back.’

Alfie had no idea what to say. If he understood correctly what Oscar was saying, then he wasn’t happy about it at all, especially as it involved Jason Hedley, a vicious piece of work who’d been pimping since he’d been at school and who’d make the devil look like he had a conscience. But then, what could he do? He owed money and until he paid it back, Oscar was free to run things how he saw fit; it was the name of the game. It was becoming increasingly fucked up and he didn’t like it at all, but now he owed Oscar money, he didn’t really have any say in the matter.

‘Well, it’s your call, and we needed to move them from the club anyway; Casey’s been asking questions.’

There was a long pause on the phone and Alfie sat down, once again wishing he’d never got involved. He’d thought it was going to be quick easy money, but it was causing him a hell of a lot of grief.

Eventually Oscar spoke.

‘She’s trouble. Perhaps you need to get rid of our pretty little problem once and for all.’

‘No, not yet; Vaughn’s put her off the trail.’

‘What the fuck is this, Alfie? An Easter egg hunt?’

‘Bedtime talk or some shit, but you know Vaughn; he’ll not spill the beans. I guess you’ve heard about Lola.’

‘Lola?’

‘She was attacked, but it seems she’s going to be okay. Apparently Casey found her; I don’t know the full story.’

The moment Casey woke up and found herself in Alfie’s bed she felt sick to her stomach. Staring up at the spotlights in the ceiling she was filled with guilt over Vaughn and images of her getting on stage flashed in her mind. Sighing, she turned on her side, trying to ignore the memories of last night’s fiasco and hold on to the anger she felt towards Vaughn, because if she could then she wouldn’t feel so wretched. Anger was a whole lot easier to feel than regret and remorse.

Hearing Alfie come into the bedroom, Casey closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.

‘Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.’

Casey felt Alfie’s hand slide up her leg and she shivered with disgust. She must have had a hell of a lot to drink to end up naked in bed at Alfie Jennings’s, though she did remember passing out before anything happened. She supposed that not having slept with him was some small consolation in an otherwise hideous situation.

She wanted to go home and scrub herself clean. Even having to face her squalid bathroom was better than having the feeling Alfie was still on her. Vaughn flashed into her mind and she quickly pushed the thought away.

‘Would you mind if I got dressed?’

Alfie grinned at her. ‘Not at all; be my guest.’

Casey waited, hoping Alfie would get the hint, but he stayed seated on the cream silk sheets.

‘Hello?’

Alfie laughed at her and continued to sit on the bed.

‘You weren’t so shy last night, Casey. Don’t be so coy, I’ve already seen it all … and felt it all.’

‘Nothing happened.’

‘I know, but I still had to undress you. I was thinking, maybe we shouldn’t mention this to Vaughn. You wouldn’t want him getting the wrong idea about you, and the last thing I want to do is hurt him.’

Casey nodded her head. She hadn’t had any intention of mentioning it to Vaughn, but she was relieved Alfie felt the same way. He no doubt was just as keen to keep this quiet as she was.

Alfie smiled as he spoke. ‘Good. We’re agreed then.’

He leant back on the end of the bed and stared at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Casey suddenly felt sick, and she wasn’t sure if it was last night’s excess alcohol or Alfie’s repulsive manner which was repeating on her. She knew it’d be a standoff with him and she wanted to get home; she leapt out of bed and felt Alfie’s burning eyes on her naked body. Casey Edwards had never got dressed so quickly in her life.

After Oscar had put down the phone to Alfie he’d sat quietly, trying to stop his head from pounding. He was in shock. Lola was still alive; he hadn’t for a moment thought she’d be found so quickly – he didn’t think anyone cared. Things weren’t panning out as he’d hoped, but one thing was for certain now, he needed to get rid of Casey and her meddling, sooner rather than later.

Jake Bellingham leant on the edge of his kitchen table opening a can of Coke, unable to believe his luck. Emmie had been on the phone, begging forgiveness.

‘I’m sorry Jakey; I got a bit panicky when I said I wanted the packages back. I’ll get you the other one you wanted if you want me to; I’ll bring it round on Friday.’

Only this morning, he’d thought he was going to have to tell Johno Porter he couldn’t come up with all the wares. Not only would it have meant losing any chance of running the turf in Stonebridge Park and becoming a fucking joke, but family or not, he would’ve no doubt ended up getting the hiding of his life from Johno and his men for messing them about.

He’d been panicking all week about how to tell Johno and he’d put off calling him and ignored his calls through pure fear. When he’d heard what Emmie had to say, he’d had to stop himself shouting for joy on the phone and made sure he played it cool.

BOOK: Taken
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