“What’s happened?” she asked, eyes wide.
“A shipping container has been dumped on my newest dock.”
“Okay,” she said. “A container of what?”
I ran my hand over the stubble on my chin. “Women,” I said and saw the question in Cheska’s eyes. “Trafficked women.”
The colour fell from her face, then she held my hand tighter as we made for the docks. I replayed the message again. The soldiers guarding the docks had all been wiped out. Mikey, one of my generals, had gone to check on the next shipment and saw the gates were wide open, bodies fucking everywhere. He’d found the dumped shipping container, peered through a crack, and seen a fuck-ton of women in cages inside, drugged to the bloody eyeballs and stark naked.
This was Old Sammy’s dock. He still owned it. We just paid him a truckload of money to use it. I’d had it for a few fucking weeks. That was it. And already whoever had been fucking with us had targeted it.
Cheska was silent on the way. Her fucking birthday. The pricks had struck on her fucking birthday. As we travelled the roads, quieter because of Bonfire Night, crashes and bangs exploded around us. Cheska leaned against the window, watching the fireworks burst into the sky. But she never let go of my hand.
Finally, we entered the road leading to the dock. I saw the gate as we passed, the hinges blown and the gates hanging wide open. I narrowed my eyes as I stared at my men dead on the ground. Cheska’s hand was shaking, and when I cut a glance her way, her eyes closed, blocking out the sight of my soldiers bleeding out on Old Sammy’s tarmac.
The car came to a stop and the engine cut out. The car was silent. I released Cheska’s hand, needing to get out and deal with this shit, but she held on tight and shifted her arse along the back seat to my side. “I’m coming with you,” she said and lifted that fucking chin.
Leaning over, I took her mouth in a bruising kiss, then opened the door. The sound of fireworks echoed off the docks. I made my way to Mikey and saw he’d already had soldiers stationed around, patrolling the perimeter. His eyes fixed on Cheska as I approached him, no doubt wondering who the fuck she was to me. My brothers and sisters fell into step beside me. Vera and Ronnie flanked Cheska, keeping her protected.
The rain started falling, and my attention fell on the red shipping container. “How the fuck did that get here and no fucker saw?” Eric asked and moved closer to the container.
“No one was left to be a witness.” Mikey blew on his hands as the fucking cold wrapped around him. He threw his thumb in the direction of the corpses being lined up along the side of the yard—our men, fucking cut down and murdered. “The next shift doesn’t come in for a couple of hours. It’s skeleton staff until then. They took them all out.”
“Cameras?” Charlie asked, and I heard the pissed-off edge to his voice.
“Cameras were cut, then wiped. No fucking trace of anyone.”
I felt the telltale signs of my anger start burning in the bottom of my spine. It swept through my bones and cells until I was made of nothing but rage and fire. People were fucking petrified of us. We should have been able to leave all our docks wide open, our gear completely visible, and no fucker would take them for fear of our wrath. That was the fucking reputation I’d built since my old man had been taken down. We were the fucking London Town reapers. You fucked with us and we’d come for your fucking souls. Whoever was doing this was either new to London and or had a fucking death wish.
I took in the dead, the fucking container, and the fact that no fucker, none of the men that I paid, had a fucking clue what the hell was going on.
“Arthur …” Mikey shut the fuck up when he saw my face.
I held out my arms, gesturing to the entire fucking yard, and shouted, “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? And why the fuck do we not already have some cunt’s head on a fucking spike for fucking with the Adley firm like this?”
Freddie was over by the container with a couple of Mikey’s crew, wrenching it open. My breath came out in fast pants, the cold turning it into white smoke. Explosions of colour blew up the fucking sky, drowning out my rage.
“We’ll get them,” Eric said to me, and I heard the latch on the container door open. “We’ll fucking get them, Artie. No one messes with us. They can’t fucking hide forever. And when we find them, we’ll strike and tear them apart.”
One of the men yanked open the container, and the stench from inside barrelled into us like a freight train. “Shit!” Vinnie spat, slinging his arm over his nose and mouth, his shoulders tensed, ready for a fucking battle.
“No,” Ronnie whispered, then cut away from the rest of us. “No.” She sprinted for the container.
“Baby! Wait!” Vera gave chase, Cheska and Betsy on her heels.
I started storming toward them, just as a fucking explosion came from our left. I whipped my head to the docks, only to see a boat alight on the water, fire fucking blazing. The flames climbed high and the engine exploded, the noise of which was drowned out by the fireworks still flaring up above.
“Fuck!” Charlie shouted, and my chest pulled so tight I thought it might rip the tendons. “What the bloody hell is all this?”
Vera and Betsy were beside us again, guns drawn, ready to fight anyone who used the cover of the blast to come at us.
I heard Ronnie scream, then turned to see Cheska and Ronnie trying to open the nearest cage. I narrowed my eyes and saw the girls inside starting to wake. “They’ve got the brand,” Ronnie said, her voice fucking laced with pain. “Get them out. Get them all out! They’ve got the brands on their backs.”
Cheska dived forward, helping her. Another explosion sounded—another empty container on the west side of the yard burst into flames. Agonised screams cut through the chaos as some of Mikey’s crew crawled away from the explosion, trousers and coats on fire. Eric and Vinnie ran to help them.
“Cheska!” I shouted, my voice fucking echoing around the blazing yard. “Get the fuck here!”
“Ronnie!” Vera ran for her girlfriend.
Cheska and Ronnie were dragging a girl from the cage, the bird’s limbs limp and weak. Cheska looked back at me but continued trying to drag the trafficked woman out. I started running, overtaking Vera just as something on the side of the container caught my eye.
“CHESKA!” I screamed, seeing the casing of an explosive on the container door.
“No! NO!” Vera spat when she saw what I was fucking glaring at. Cheska grabbed Ronnie’s arm and tried to pull her away, knowing something was wrong. But Ronnie wouldn’t move. She fought to get Cheska to stay near the girls, to help her open more of the cages.
Like fucking slow motion, the world tripping into half speed, I saw the fire ignite at the back of the container as I reached Cheska. I threw her to the ground, covering her with my body as the fucking thing blew. A thunderous boom took out the dumped container and all the trafficked women inside, the smell of burning flesh immediately lashing around us.
Cheska was still beneath me. I reared back, turning her over. I hadn’t been quick enough. She took too much of the fucking blowback. Scratches and cuts covered her skin, dirt from the ground. “Princess,” I said, pulling her into my arms. The fire from the burning container singed the back of my coat. I didn’t fucking give a shit. “Princess, wake the fuck up!” I snarled and felt my stomach sink. A fucking great big hole burrowed in my chest, caved in my fucking bones as I stared at Cheska’s closed eyes.