Bang Gang (22 page)

“What the fuck?!” she bleated. “For fuck’s sake! What the fuck is this?!”

“Jizz,” I said, venturing forward for the first time in this whole sorry
spectacle. “A standard by-product from a fucking gangbang last time I checked.”

Petey looked mortified, poor sod. I slapped him on the shoulder, gestured he should get his bloody pants back on.

“This is… unacceptable!” she carried on. “What kind of cheap shit outfit is this?”

“Lad got carried away,” I said. “Shit happens. We’ll call it a night, sorry for the trouble.”

“Oh, no!” she said. “We won’t fucking call it a night! I haven’t had a single fucking orgasm!” She stared at me, and I stared right back. “Trent, right?” she said.

“That’s right.”

She flashed a vicious smile. “Well, Mr Boss-man, you can be the one to rectify this fucking disaster.” She wiped herself off and sat herself back down and splayed those fucking legs again, offered up her pretty pussy like a fucking raffle prize. “You,” she said. “Now!”

The guys looked at me, all of them. Buck gave me a nod, told me to get right in there. Jimmy O was grinning, expecting me to whip it out and get
the job done.

“Come on,” she said. “Show me what I’m paying for!”

I felt the simmer of anger, that primitive urge to fuck that bitch so hard she learned some fucking manners, see how smart her mouth was when she was coming all over my fucking cock. I stepped up and pulled off my t-shirt, and she managed a smile.

“Nice,” she said. “I do like my men with a bit of ink. Show me what else you’ve got.”

Just a job, it was just a fucking job.

I dropped my jeans and was relieved as fuck to find my dick was getting with the agenda. I took a rubber from Buck and rolled it on, hitching Janie’s perfect Barbie legs over my shoulders and lining up to hit the perfect spot. I closed my eyes, told myself this was nothing, just the same old shit, different day. That this meant fucking nothing. Nothing at all.

Told myself I could get the job done and get out of there.

But my body wouldn’t fucking move.

“Come on,” she said. “Fuck me! I’m fucking ready for it!”

But I wasn’t.

I looked at Janie Ryan’s pretty face and all I saw was a big fucking mistake.

My dick backtracked and bailed on me, and my jeans were up before I’d even pulled the rubber off. I fished it out and stomped off to find a bin.

Janie really was pissed off then. Her face turned beetroot, her squeals of annoyance betraying her for the spoiled little brat she really was.

I didn’t even look at the guys, just dumped my johnny in the trash where it belonged and picked up my t-shirt.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” I said. “But we’re not anyone’s fucking sissy-boys. I think it’s best you find yourself another outfit.” I pulled some notes from my back pocket, left them on the side for her trouble. I gestured to the guys, told them we were done, and they made a sharp fucking exit as I listened to Janie rattle on about our piss-poor service.

I don’t think she’ll be booking in her BMW anytime soon, that’s for fucking sure.

Nobody said a word as I climbed back into the truck. Hugh put an arm around Petey’s shoulders in the back, ruffled the lad’s hair. Poor kid looked like he was going to cry, can’t say I blamed him. Buck knows me well enough to know when to mind his tongue, he gave me a nod as we pulled away from her gates and that was the end of it.

I stopped at the yard on the way back through the village, opened up the office and unlocked the safe. I dished out the earnings – just as they should have been, but by the time I’d locked back up there were a pile of notes on the dashboard.

“Don’t be soft,” I said. “This was my call, just take the cash and stop being so fucking sappy about it.”

But none of them would take a thing.

Hugh was in early next morning. He got us both a cup of tea and hovered in the office while I organised the job cards.

“You know what the lad needs,” he said. “Either that or he’s off the squad. He’s too inexperienced, doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. You know it as well as I do.” He took a swig of tea. “Take him to her. She’s the one to sort him out, we all know that. Especially you.”

I’d been avoiding
her
for weeks, months probably.

“No,” I said. “It’s a barrel of shit, Hugh. I’m out of that.”

“Then you’ll have to drop him from the side. He’s not up to it. Lad was practically a virgin when he started, he’s got no idea.”

“He’ll pick it up,” I said, but I was lying. Lad wasn’t picking up shit.

Hugh slapped my back as Jimmy O’s bike roared onto the yard. “Take him to her. You can stay out of it.”

Like hell I could.

I took out my mobile and fired off a text despite my better judgement, rather that than see the lad’s confidence shrivel to shit.

I’d had a reply by the time I’d finished up dishing out the jobs for the day. The guys hadn’t even started up by the time I took Petey off to the side.

“Afternoon off,” I said. “On-site training.” He looked at me, trying to work out what the hell I was on about, but I didn’t offer him much more than that. “Just be ready,” I said. “We go after lunch.” I smirked and gestured to the toilet. “Make sure your dick’s sparkly fucking clean, standards are high where we’re going.”

I’ll be getting fucked by five men. Tomorrow. To-fucking-morrow
.
Oh my fucking God.

Nerves and excitement, and this weird achy feeling whenever I thought about Trent being there. I just hoped I’d be up to it when push came to shove.

Tonya insisted I should wear the red crotchless.
Make a statement
, she said. Like signing up for a five-man orgy wasn’t statement enough.

The cafe was busy for a Thursday, but finally the Bang Gang whispering seemed to be dying down.

Fred Crocker had stumbled from the Drum the night before, managed to tumble into the river when he was taking a piss over the railings. They’d had to throw him one of those bright orange life rings and fish him out. Apparently his trousers were still round his ankles when they pulled him clear, nothing bruised but his ego.

That
was the talk of the day. Darren’s little sex business had taken a backseat for the time being.

Thanks, Fred.

We were in the middle of the lunchtime rush when Lorraine ditched her apron and put her coat on.

“I’m out for the afternoon,” she said. “Going to the cash and carry.”

“Now?!” I said, looking out on the sea of people cramming in for the toasted teacake special.

She didn’t even pause. “I’ve asked Sharon to come and give you a hand, she should be here any minute.”

Sharon doesn’t know her ass from her elbow. She put cabbage in a ham salad sandwich a few shifts back, and forgot to debone the salmon. Mrs Hartley nearly choked on it, threatened to call
Law4You
and make a claim for a new set of dentures.

“Fine,” I said. “See you later.”

“Tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll be awhile.”

“But I put in an order already, we just need…” I called after her but she was already gone. “Napkins,” I finished, to myself.

I plastered on a smile and made the best of it. I’d always make the best of it, for Lorraine’s sake if nothing else.

Lorraine was much more than a boss to me. She was a friend, too.

She’d taken me under her wing after Pops passed away, listened to my crap as things fell apart for me, and listened some more when things fell apart for me and Darren soon afterwards. She’d been so supportive; so strong when I was weak. So sure when I was so indecisive. She’d helped me make the best of things, taught me to keep a practical head on my shoulders.

To make the right choices, for me and the
girls.

Choices like Brian.

Alright, so sometimes even Lorraine gets shit wrong, but that isn’t the point.

I’d been keeping the Darren icebreaker right under her radar, which felt kind of shitty, but I cared about what she thought
, and she wouldn’t think much of it.

Lorraine’s never had any time for Darren.

I felt like a shit friend for keeping things from her, at least I could hold the bloody cafe together while she nipped out for essentials.

But we didn’t need any essentials.

Still, it was the least I could do.

Tonya arrived before Sharon, fresh from her lunch shift at the fish and chip shop.

“I stink,” she said, then looked around at the tables still waiting to be cleared. “Where’s Lorraine?”

“Cash and carry,” I said. “I’m expecting Sharon.”

“Sharon doesn’t know her ass from her elbow,” Tonya said. Great minds. She stepped behind the counter and grabbed a Velvet Bean apron. “Needs must,” she said. “Let me sort those bloody tables.”