The Boss. Caz FinlayЧитать онлайн книгу.
Present Day
Nathan stretched his muscular body across the cool cotton sheets as he admired the naked body of his girlfriend, Kayleigh, while she was deciding what to wear.
He’d met her six years ago, while he was still inside. She was the younger sister of one of his many pad mates, Tony Gallagher. He’d first seen her when she was visiting her brother and within a few weeks she was visiting Nathan instead.
At twenty-seven, she was fourteen years younger than him. She had the body of a page three model. She didn’t have much else about her, but she certainly looked the part, and she gave some of the best head he’d ever had in his life. She told people she was an underwear model, but now her only ambition in life was to look good on Nathan’s arm, and let him keep her in the lifestyle to which she’d recently become accustomed.
‘What do you think about this one, Nathan?’ she asked, holding up a hideous pink dress that wouldn’t look out of place in a knocking shop on the dock road.
‘How about you come here instead and remind me how much you’ve missed me?’ he grinned as he patted the empty space on the bed beside him.
‘Behave yourself!’ she squealed. ‘I’ve got to get a shower or we’ll be late.’
Sighing, Nathan lay back down on the bed. Kayleigh was gorgeous. She did what she was told, when she was told. Everywhere they went, men stared at her and he liked having what other people wanted. She was perfect for him. So why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about Grace? She occupied his every waking thought.
He’d thought he could just walk back into her life and she’d be waiting for him. Time had a way of standing still in prison. It was easy to forget that the world outside moved on without you. He’d spent years imagining the look on her face when he introduced her to Kayleigh and told her he was no longer interested in middle-aged women nearing their forties. He was going to break her heart – just like she’d broken his when she’d sent him those divorce papers. It had almost killed him to sign them, but he’d had no choice. It had been the only way to stop her running away with Jake.
Walking back into the Rose and Crown had felt like travelling back in time. Despite not setting foot in the place for over twelve years, it still looked, and felt, the same to him. Even the smell was the same – real ale, and people. The mixture of perfume, aftershave, sweat, the cigarette smoke that lingered on the clothes. It was funny how your senses could trick you into believing you were in another time and place. The same faces were still sitting at the bar or doing business at the same vinyl topped tables. He was greeted by everyone. He was a well-known face, and even if people didn’t know him, they liked to tell people that they did.
The only thing that had changed was her. She still looked like his Grace. Still had her long dark hair and curves in exactly the right places. But she wasn’t looking up at the doors, waiting for him to come home anymore. She didn’t smile at him like she used to or look at him like he was the most incredible person she’d ever known. She held herself differently too, full of confidence – and class. She was the type of woman men would look at and think was out of their league. And she’d grown a backbone too. He admired the new Grace. It was hard not to. Not that he would admit that to anyone, especially her.
He felt exactly the same way about her as he always had. As though he’d only left yesterday. He’d spent years convincing himself that she meant nothing to him anymore and it had only taken a few seconds in her presence to undo it all.
He’d seen her as soon as he’d walked into the pub. His eyes drawn to her like she possessed some kind of magnetic field. His chest had tightened, as though someone was squeezing his heart and lungs from the inside, making his breath catch in his throat. How could she still do that to him? He’d looked away before she’d seen him. When they came face to face again, it would be on his terms. There had been no reason to let her believe she had any power over him.
She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And God, she could still make his dick twitch. Maybe it was muscle memory, he smiled in spite of himself; the memory of all the things they’d done, right there in that pub, on that bar, on those chairs and tables.
It had seemed like fate when Jake dropped his keys just as Nathan was thinking about going to visit some old friends. Seeing the key to the flat above the pub on Jake’s key ring, made him decide just which old friend he’d like to visit. He smiled as he remembered Grace standing there wielding a golf club and how it took all his strength not to burst out laughing. But what happened next was entirely unexpected.
He’d expected her to be the same Grace she’d always been – compliant. But she was tougher now. Not the same gullible girl she was when he left. Even in his drunken state, he could see that. She might just be capable of carrying out her little threat to phone his probation officer. Maybe he would have to tread carefully – for now. But Nathan had a plan. He always had a plan.
Grace thought he’d let her go. He’d thought that he could too, but now he realized she was as essential to him as breathing. She was the only person who really knew him; the only one who knew his secrets – and she’d loved him anyway. Grace was his. She belonged to him. She always had, and she always would. The sooner she remembered that, the better.
Twenty Years Earlier
New Year’s Day
Nathan woke with a jolt, his heart pounding in his ears, his body covered in a thin film of sweat. The ghosts of the nightmare that woke him began to fade as the sun filtered through the gap in the curtains. Waiting for his heart rate to slow to a normal pace, he went through his usual morning ritual and scanned the small bedsit, taking note of the various flaws which ground him down on a daily basis. The paint that peeled from the top of the walls exposing the damp beneath, despite the numerous fresh coats of paint he’d painstakingly applied. The myriad of brown and yellow stains on the small kitchen cupboards which no amount of scrubbing could remove.
On any other morning, he’d be filled with a crushing sense of despair at the realization that he’d spent another day, another night, in the shithole he’d called home for the past year. But the memory of the previous night reminded him of the opportunities which were about to come his way. No more grotty bedsits. No more scratching around for bits and pieces of money. He was about to start earning some serious dough after his meeting with Tommy McNulty, which had gone better than he could have ever expected.
Tommy was the owner of The Blue Rooms, a lucrative lap-dancing club on the dock road. But that was just his respectable front. He also controlled the bulk of the huge quantities of drugs that came in and out of the docks. No one dared breathe without Tommy’s say-so. He was one of the most feared and respected men in Liverpool. In his late forties, he’d been at the top of his game for almost twenty years. Ruling with brutality, he was considered fair to those who were straight with him. But cross him, and you’d be likely to never walk again at the very least, or more likely you’d disappear and never be found. And he guaranteed his employees a good earn, ensuring they remained loyal soldiers.
Nathan could hardly believe it when the big man had asked for a meet with him. The fact that Tommy even knew his name made him nervous. He wondered if he’d stepped on some toes he shouldn’t have. But no one turned down a meet with Tommy McNulty, not if they wanted to live to tell the tale anyway.
As it turned out, Tommy was looking for some new muscle, and he’d heard about Nathan’s growing reputation. His job offer came at just the right time for Nathan. Bored taxing petty drug dealers, he was keen to find employment more befitting his particular