Pen
“Thanks for letting me tag along, Pen,” Clancy says the following Tuesday. “I’ve been dying to get a look inside the infamous Tales fight club”. She grins at me, her curly red hair wild about her head as she practically bounces up and down with excitement.
York rolls his eyes, indicating right as we turn into the industrial estate that houses Tales. “Seriously Clancy, you need to chill. Grim doesn’t do well with girly girls.”
“Grim’s going to be there? I’m gonna meet the badass bitch owner of Tales?”
“Yep, that’s right,” York confirms, giving me a look in the rearview mirror. I know what he’s thinking, that it’s a mistake to bring along Clancy. She’s like a puppy, and a badly behaved one at that. I love her regardless. Besides, the dance is flamenco inspired, and second to tap, Clancy is pretty badass at it.
“Fuck. I’m about to meet a real-life, in the flesh, gangster. Will her boyfriend be there too? I gotta say, he’s fucking beautiful. I wouldn’t mind climbing his pole.”
“Whatever you do, do not say that in front of Grim,” York warns. “I’ve seen her beat the ever-living shit out of a woman who dared come onto her man. She’s an exceptional fighter and will not tolerate anyone flirting with Beast.”
“Yessss! I love her even more now. Urgh, why can’t I have a gangster partner? Like, it’s sexy as fuck.”
“You’ve got River,” I remind her.
“I do, and fuck is he good in bed. Ballet dancers are flex-i-ble,” she says, her eyebrows waggling. “Then again, I bet you know that already, York, seeing as our girl rocks ballet too.”
“No comment,” York replies, winking at me in the rearview mirror as he pulls up to a parking space outside Tales.
“Spoilsport,” Clancy mutters, grinning. She leans over and prods me in the hip with her finger. “You know if you’re ever up for spicing up your sex life, I’m still open to joining your harem.”
York switches the engine off and turns in his seat. “The fuck, Clancy! I’m not sure what I should be more pissed off about, the fact you think Titch needs her sex life spiced up—which, by the way, she does not—or that you’ve come on to her.”
Clancy winks at me then grins at York. “Don’t worry, York, she turned me down anyway.”
“Ignore Clancy, as much as I love her arse, I don’t love her arse that way.”
“A crying shame.” She grins then pulls me in for a hug, smacking a kiss against my cheek.
“Well thank fuck, because I can’t be dealing with another person vying for Titch’s attention. I can barely cope with the three fuckers I call my best friends,” York quips with a shake of his head. “Come on, Clancy, let’s introduce you to Grim and Beast, and for the love of God, keep the flirting to yourself. Okay?”
Grim notices us enter and holds her finger up indicating she’ll be with us in a minute. Today she’s dressed down in a pair of cut-off black denim shorts, Ramones t-shirt, and chunky biker boots with her legs bare. Her assessing gaze immediately lands on Clancy, and even though I already told Grim she was coming today to help me with the choreo I have planned, she still regards her with an edge of disdain.
“Oh fuck, did you see the look she gave me?”
“She’s like that with everyone. Just remember what I said about Beast and you’ll be good,” York says.
“Will she warm up a bit?”
“Nope. Not unless she likes you, and right now the only girl she happens to like is Pen.”
“Well then, we have something in common,” Clancy retorts, pulling back her shoulders and lifting her chin. You gotta love her.
“Just be yourself, minus the flirty banter. It’ll be fine,” I reassure her.
“I want this place set up by this evening. Get to it people! I don’t pay you to sit around and chat. Move it!” Grim shouts, pulling her gun from the back of her jean shorts and pointing it at a couple of blokes who are taking a cigarette break in the corner of the warehouse. I’ve never seen two people move as quickly. Beast chuckles, pressing a kiss against her cheek, and gently pushes her towards us.
“Fuck! Did she just pull out a gun?” Clancy hisses under her breath. “I mean, I can take a verbal bashing but a bullet through the skull is pretty fucking final.”
York smirks. “I wouldn’t put it past her…”
Clancy’s skin flushes as she looks over at me, her eyes wide. “Fuck! She really is a badass, isn’t she? I’ve got a girl crush.”
“Do you ever stop?” I mutter under my breath, fighting to hold back a giggle.
“Hey, Pen! Good to see you. The girls will be out in a second,” Grim says, pulling me in for a brief hug the moment she’s close enough. She nods at York. “So, you’re the chauffeur today.”
“Yep, looks that way.”
“And you must be Clancy,” Grim asks, turning to face my best friend. She cuts her a look that could be interpreted a number of ways. Clancy clearly takes it as a challenge to impress her and holds her hand out to shake.
“Nice to meet you.”
Grim’s eyes drop to Clancy’s proffered hand. After a beat she takes it. “I’m not sure anyone has ever said that it’s nice to meet me.”
Clancy smiles, and I can see the sexy way she cocks her hip. I groan internally. “There’s always a first.”
Grim let’s go of her hand and nods. “I’m not into women,” she says, pinning Clancy with her stare before turning her attention back to me. Clancy’s cheeks flare and York stifles a laugh. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve got planned for this weekend. Do you want to go change? The girls are out back doing the same.”
“Sure thing.”
“Great. I’ve got shit to be getting on with in the meantime—mainly trying not to shoot these lazy cocksuckers—so I’ll catch you in a few,” Grim says, walking off only to stop a few paces away. “Oh, wait. I forgot to say—”
“What?” I ask her.
“I saw your dance on Instagram—”
I pull a face. “You have Instagram?”
“I have a private account under a completely random name. It’s quite a useful tool to keep an eye on people. Anyway, I saw your dance.” She grins at me, giving me a look of solidarity. “You fucking told him, Pen. I’m so fucking proud of you.” With that she turns on her heel and walks away.
Clancy blows out a breath. “Well, fuck, I might be in love.”
The three of us burst out laughing, and I’m pretty sure I can hear Grim joining in too.
Four days later, Clancy and I are in the changing room at Tales putting the last-minute touches to our outfits for the show. “Thanks so much for standing in for Sophia tonight. I appreciate it,” I say, passing her a glass of champagne, which she downs in one long, thirsty gulp. It’s Saturday night and this is the second performance of the routine Clancy helped me to choreograph.
“Girl, you know I’d do anything for you,” she replies with a wide, red-lipsticked grin before throwing her arms around me, a cloud of Chanel Number 5 perfume engulfing us both.
The rest of the dancers bar Sophia—a pretty blonde who called out with the stomach bug—are also getting dressed. There’s a lot of laughter and excitement, we’re all hyped for the show given it went so well last night. It’s a mash-up of tap, flamenco and a little bit of street added in. As usual, the girls picked up the routine with ease and Grim was more than happy with what I put together with Clancy’s help. Not one of the dancers have been worried about a repeat of the bloodshed of a few weeks ago. I’m guessing working at Tales, surrounded by criminal men and women on the regular, gets you used to the violence. Or perhaps it’s the extra security around the place. The new hires might be ghosts but they have an air of badassery that makes us all feel a lot safer in their presence. Contrary to their namesakes, they’re very much a visible presence.
“Well, just know that I’m happy to return the favour at any time,” I say, passing Clancy the black wig and purple lace eye mask. She pulls the wig on, adjusting it until it falls over her shoulders just right. Then adds the mask.
“I look hot!” she states, twirling in a circle and showing off the black long-sleeved bodysuit, purple stockings and silk, and a see-through, ankle-length skirt. Paired with black, sparkly heeled tap shoes and she looks gorgeous.
“You do!” I agree, pulling on my own wig and mask. The rest of the dancers do the same; dressed like this it’s difficult to tell us apart, which was purposeful on my part. I want the audience to focus on all of us, not just me. The beauty of this dance is the synchronicity, not the individualism of each dancer. I don’t want to be in the spotlight, but a part of the whole.
“Seriously, though,” I say, placing my hands on her shoulders. “I’m grateful you stepped in. The routine wouldn’t have worked with one dancer missing.
“Hey, you’re welcome. Besides, I got to witness Beast beat the shit out of that dude tonight… what was his name again?”
“Jefferson Sloane, but on the street, he’s known as Mad Dick Magenta. He’s the best fighter the Callous Crew has,” Grim says, stepping into the changing room. “Not a bad fighter, actually. Just sloppy. The kid is far better at parkour. I’ve seen him leap from the top of a five-story building onto a window ledge two floors below just to spray paint his tag. He has no fear. None. In fact, all of the members of the Callous Crew are fearless.”
“Parkour and graffiti. Cool,” I say.
“Well he was no match for Beast’s left hook. I thought Jefferson’s head was going to rip clean off his shoulders,” Clancy remarks, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement. “It was such an exciting fight. All that blood!”
Grim glances at me, then shakes her head. “Your friend is quite the bloodthirsty little thing.”
“She’s special, that’s for sure,” I reply with a chuckle.
“Uh-huh… Anyway, enough of the chit-chat. Are you ready? I’m just giving you a ten-minute warning—”
“Oh, I should go pee! I get nervous as shit before a performance,” Clancy says, interrupting Grim. Pulling an apologetic face, she rushes off to the toilet.
“She’s a good person. She’s been a good friend,” I say, wanting Grim to see what I see. She doesn’t have to like her, but it would be good if she stopped looking at her like she’s someone I should be wary of.
“Seems like it…” Grim cocks her head to the side, studying me.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.
Grim jerks her head. “Come on, I need to speak with you in my office for a second,” she says before turning her attention to the dancers. “Frank will escort you to the cage in a few minutes. Make sure Clancy is with you.”
“Sure,” a dancer named Lola replies. She’s a beautiful, voluptuous black woman with the prettiest brown eyes and long, lean legs. I’ve been particularly impressed with her dancing this week. She picked up the routine really quickly and has a natural flare for flamenco.
“What’s up?” I ask Grim the moment we step into her office. Beast is lounging on the leather sofa in the corner of the room, nursing a glass of whiskey. He looks like he’s just taken a nap, rather than fought in the cage. There’s not a split lip or bruise in sight. The fact that Dax managed to fuck him up when they fought has got to indicate how good a fighter he is. Beast seemed to think so, given he’s been training him between Dax taking lessons at the Academy, teaching the local kids and doing nefarious criminal shit.
“You’re supposed to be out there mingling,” Grim says, her annoyance clear.
“Babe, I just came in here to change and grab a drink. What’s up, you looked stressed,” he remarks, sitting up.
“It’s fine,” Grim replies, waving away his concern.
“Okay,” he frowns then looks at me. “Hey, Pen. You good?” He knocks back the drink, placing the empty glass on the low table before him.
“I think so,” I reply, giving Grim a confused look. “Is this about Clancy?”
Grim sits on the edge of her desk. “Fuck, no. I can see why you like her. She’s a little nuts, but harmless.”
“Oh Jesus, thank fuck. I thought you were gonna drop a bombshell,” I reply, letting out a sigh of relief.
“She checks out. Her dad works at the law firm that got D-Neath’s sentence shortened. Although Interpol had more to do with that than the law firm did. Otherwise, there’s nothing nefarious about Clancy, apart from the fact she flirted with me the other day. But I’ll let that pass.” She shrugs, her lips lifting up in a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. I frown, something’s up but I’m prevented from asking when Beast bursts out laughing.
“Shut the fuck up! That little redhead rocket flirted with you?” Beast exclaims, his eyebrows shooting up so high they’re almost lost in his hairline. “I would’ve liked to have seen that. She’s got some balls, that’s for sure. What did you do?”
“I told her I wasn’t interested in girls…”
Beast laughs. “That’s because you’ve got me, baby.”
“Yeah, you’re all the girl I need.” Grim winks at me, then lights up a cigarette. I can’t help but notice that her fingers are trembling a little as she takes a drag then lets out a stream of smoke.
“Babe, this cock is better than any strap-on out there. Fuck the Rampant Rabbit, I got everything you need right here,” Beast boasts, gripping his cock over his jeans.
Grim frowns, ignoring him and focusing on me instead. “So… you wanted to talk to me about that thing.”
“That thing?”
“Uh huh.” Grim gives me that look, the ones girls give each other when they need you to pretend you know what the fuck they’re going on about.
“Oh yeah, the thing. Maybe now would be a good time to discuss it considering the guys aren’t about…” I look pointedly at Beast.
He points at his chest. “Ohhh, right. You’re gonna do that girl-talk shit. This is my cue to leave, yeah?”
Grim silently thanks me with her eyes. “Pen just needed some boy advice, that’s all.”
Beast gets up and plants a kiss on the top of Grim’s head. “Babe, do you know how proud I am of you?”
“Proud?” Grim frowns.
“Yeah, proud of you for making friends. I’m happy for you, I know it ain’t easy having me as your best friend.”
“I think you’ll find that’s Hud.”
Beast clutches his chest. “Fuck, babe, you’re killing me,” he jokes before grasping the back of her neck and kissing her deeply. By the time he pulls back, Grim’s face is flushed and I’m looking anywhere in the room so long as it’s not at them.
“You’ve haven’t got long before you’re on stage, Pen” Beast reminds me. “Make this quick.”
“Shit!” Grim exclaims the second the door closes behind him. She stubbs out her half-smoked cigarette in an ashtray on her desk and starts muttering under her breath. I’ve never seen her like this. Whatever’s troubling her, it must be big.
“Grim, what’s the matter?” I ask tentatively, my eyes following her as she starts pacing back and forth in front of me. “Is it Lena? Something to do with Santiago? Have The Masks finally made a move?”
“No. Fuck, no. Nothing like that.”
“What then? What’s the matter?” When she starts wringing her hands, I begin to panic. “Seriously, Grim, you’re starting to freak me out.”
“I’m such a fucking idiot. I should just get rid—”
“Get rid? Of whom, the ghosts?”
“Fuck. This is such a bad fucking idea. I don’t know why I’m even entertaining it.”
“What’s a bad idea? Is there something wrong with the plan? Are the Breakers in trouble?”
“I mean it’s not as if I’m going to be any good at it anyway…” she continues, rambling now.
“Good at what?”
“Fuck, I’ve had to build a fucking fortress around Christy and she’s not even my child. What business do I have even entertaining this…? I’m normally so careful.”
“Entertaining what… Wait, who’s Christy? What are you talking about?”
She stops pacing and turns to face me, pinning me with her stare. Since meeting Grim I’ve not once seen fear in her eyes. Right now, I do. “She’s my little sister, Pen.”
“You have a younger sister?”
“Half-sister, my dad was basically a man-whore. God knows how many brothers and sisters I have out there. Ford and Christy are the only two that I know of.”
“Does Ford know about her?”
“No, and it’s going to stay that way. I’m trusting you with this. You can’t tell anyone, not even the Breakers.”
“Grim…” I begin, not wanting to keep any more secrets from them.
“I know what I’m asking of you, but please Pen. I need your word. No one must know about her.”
“Shit, okay. I won’t say anything. Promise.”
“I only found out about Christy when my father died. He included her in his will. I was nineteen when I took over Tales, she was twelve. She was his best kept secret, and now she’s mine.”
“Wow, that must’ve been a shock.”
“It was a bit…” Her voice trails off as she chews on her lip. “She’s a good kid. Well, not much of a kid anymore. You’re around the same age. You remind me of her, actually.”
“Yeah, how so?”
“She’s a dancer like you, ballet. She’s pretty fucking good.”
“That’s great.”
Grim nods, heaving out a sigh. “Beast is the only other person who knows of her existence, aside from you now.”
“So, this is about Christy? Has something happened to her?”
“No, she’s well hidden, but she’s just an example of why I shouldn’t even be considering this. Fuck, how could I be so stupid, Pen?”
“Grim, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s up.”
Sitting down heavily in her seat, Grim blows out a shaky breath then lifts her chin and straightens her spine. “I’m pregnant.”
“You’re pregnant?” My eyes drop to Grim’s hand that, consciously or not, is pressed protectively over her stomach.
“Yes,” she nods, reaching for her packet of cigarettes, then thinks better of it and screws up the packet, dropping them in the bin. Grim’s eyes turn glassy like she’s about to burst into tears. “See!” she shouts, “I’m not fit to be a mother! I’ve been poisoning my baby with cigarette smoke.”
Then the tears fall, and the woman who seems as tough as any man in the criminal underworld crumbles.
