Brotherhood of Blades Read Online Free Page B

and off came the lacies, straight into your pocket. Afterwards you were out of the car and into the alleyway, wipe yourself clean with the packet of baby wipes you carried in your pocket, and on went the lacies again for the next punter. And on the odd occasion while the punter was smoothing the rubber down his mostly pathetic and withering dick for an up-the-arse job, Luanne had taught her to make a mad dash for it. It filled her with such self-loathing. Mostly you were quicker than the punters and out of the car before they’d even put the rancid thing away. Some tried to catch her, but no one ever succeeded. She had the speed of a cheetah when it counted, and could outrun any of the fat bastards with their smelly cocks. The punters had to pay up front and they deserved to be ripped off. And they were hardly going to report her to the police. What would they say? Excuse me, officer, I’ve just been kerb-crawling and the bitch of a whore did a runner after I paid her to let me give her one up the arse! Yeah, right!
    She stood in front of the mirror and let herself think about the time she and Jason lost their virginity to each other. They had fumbled nervously, without much tenderness at first because it was all so clumsy, but there was a connection between them, and it had grown. But that was just a memory now. She’d heard he was out, but what was the point of contacting him? She was so ashamed of what she had become, yet she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop.
    She stared at her disillusioned face, and picked up the cheap perfume from the ledge. She was about to spray herself with it, to stave off the stink of the men that she had to shag before the night was over, when the doorbell sounded. The perfume shot out of her hand as fear hit her heart. Was that Yo-Yo, demanding money? He held her responsible for Aunt Haley disposing of his stash. His rules were if you lost gear, you paid three times its street value, and that was one hell of a lot of fucking. She’d given him all her earnings two days back, for the debt she owed for her own stuff and the interest on it, so she didn’t have any money. That meant she was going to get a beating. The last time Aunt Haley took the drugs she was hiding, and she couldn’t pay what he demanded, he had beaten her first with a strap and then with his huge fists. It put her out of action for five days, and for the first two she couldn’t see out of either eye.
    The urgent ringing was followed by loud banging on the door.
    The sound of the shower still running was doing Gran Sals’s nerves in. She’d put the tracksuit through the washing machine, but there were still traces of blood on it. She’d scrubbed the marks with the floor brush too, then covered the stains with all the salt she had in the house. No one knew more about removing bloodstains than she did, what with her grandson’s track record.
    What if she was as nervous as this when the Feds came knocking, as she knew they would? Any crime around the area and Jason would be hauled out, whether or not the lad had been anywhere near the trouble. Tonight was different, though; he was covered in blood when he came in. Christ, that bloody Aviary estate, and that tart of a girlfriend of his! Hadn’t she told him over and over to take his opportunity and get out of here? He’d never had a thing in his life, and now the boy had a chance. Over her own dead body would Haley Gulati or that slag Chantelle prevent him taking up this scholarship. She didn’t care, she’d had her life. That was the real reason she had moved off the Aviary; everyone thought it was because she was afraid of the Brotherhood, but she laughed out loud at that; she wasn’t afraid of any of them scumbags. She was Sally Young, and Sally Young ran from no one. She’d moved to get Jason away from that crime-infested estate, and give the lad a fresh start when he came out; but he had done it himself. With a bit of help from his social worker, he had earned a