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He lit a cigarette and sat back down at the kitchen table as he waited for the kettle to boil. She didn’t bother to tell him she didn’t allow smoking in her house; deciding she had a bigger axe to grind with him.
‘If he gets into any trouble because of you, Nathan, I’ll—’
‘You’ll what, Grace?’ He smirked, but she could see the anger flash momentarily across his face.
‘Just remember he’s an eighteen-year-old kid, with his whole life ahead of him, Nathan. Do not do anything to screw that up for him.’
He shrugged. ‘Whatever you say.’
Grace watched him as he blew smoke rings across the kitchen.
‘This is a nice place you’ve got yourself here,’ he said, changing the subject, his eyes twinkling as he talked. ‘The pub must be doing well?’
‘Yes, the pub does okay. It keeps me and Jake anyway.’ She almost told him that it had taken her two years to make the place viable again, after he had almost run it into the ground. But that was old news. All that would have done was start an argument, and she was in no mood for one with him today. Besides, he appeared to be in a very affable mood and she wondered if the previous night’s antics had been forgotten. Or at least written off as some drunken lunacy, brought on by his nostalgia at being back in their old home. Maybe her warning had actually worked, and he realized she was not a woman to be messed with anymore. Whatever the reason, she was grateful that he hadn’t brought it up and appeared to hold no ill feelings about it.
‘How is Kayleigh?’ Grace asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her financial affairs.
‘She’s good, got a terrible hangover this morning though,’ he laughed.
‘She seems like a nice girl.’
‘Yes, she is. She’s a star, my Kayleigh. The way she waited for me to get out of prison. Not many women would do that, it seems.’
‘Well not many women would put up with you, full stop,’ she smiled. ‘Personally, I think I deserve the George Cross for sticking it out as long as I did.’
He shook his head. ‘You’ve developed a sense of humour while I’ve been away, Grace. You never used to be this funny.’ He smiled as he said it, but Grace knew he was rankled by the way he momentarily clenched his jaw.
‘Well, I’d better get to work. You and Jake have a good day,’ she said breezily.
He stood up as she started to leave and kissed her softly on the cheek. ‘You too, Grace.’
As she left the house, Grace undid the top buttons of her blouse to allow some air at her skin, which burned red hot. Nathan was being so nice it was unnerving. Even when she’d tried to push his buttons, he’d kept a lid on his temper. That was Nathan, she supposed, always keeping her on her toes. Or maybe he really had changed? She laughed out loud at that last thought. She was willing to play along with his little charade for now. It was easier for her, after all. But she knew it wouldn’t be long before the charming facade slipped – it always did.
Chapter Six (#ulink_cba57ecc-9f68-572b-9f08-0682fed1e10a)
Grace walked into the almost empty bar area of the Rose and Crown. Her bar manager, Marcus Holden, was placing menus on the tables in preparation for the usual lunchtime crowd. He usually opened up so she could have a lie in – a perk of being the boss. Marcus was her longest serving and most reliable employee, as well as a good friend.
He’d worked at the bar since Grace was seventeen, and at just two years older than her, they’d clicked from the very beginning. When her dad died a year later he helped her to navigate the running of the place and had been by her side ever since, apart from a brief hiatus when Nathan had sacked him without Grace’s knowledge. The first thing she’d done after taking control of her pub again was to phone Marcus and beg him to come back. He’d accepted before she’d even finished the question. He often joked that Grace could never fire him because he knew where the bodies were buried, and Grace always smiled politely when he did, because Marcus had no idea. He was a great pub manager, but she did her best to keep him far away from her other business activities. They both preferred it that way.
Patrick Carter was sitting at the bar on a stool, reading a newspaper and eating a bacon sandwich, which he’d no doubt talked the chef into making him, even though the kitchen wasn’t officially open.
‘Morning, Pat.’ She smiled as she greeted him. ‘What brings you here so early?’
‘Just wanted to make sure you were okay.’ He smiled back.
‘I’m fine. I can look after myself.’
‘I know that, boss. Just here in case you need me,’ he said before returning to his newspaper and sandwich.
It still sounded odd to hear the legendary Patrick Carter calling her Boss. He’d given her that moniker shortly after they’d met ten years ago, and he’d worked for her ever since. But not in the same way Marcus did. No, Patrick undertook more specialized work. He did the type of jobs that you couldn’t advertise in the local newspaper. Running a pub in Liverpool could be a dangerous game after all. Patrick was what some might call her right-hand man. One of her most trusted confidantes. He gave good counsel, but more importantly he knew when to keep his opinions to himself and do as he was told.
Grace took one of the discarded bread crusts from Patrick’s plate. ‘You always leave the best bit,’ she said before taking a bite.
He grinned at her. ‘Leave them for you, don’t I?’
Marcus approached her and put an arm around her shoulder, giving her a light peck on the cheek. ‘Morning, lovely,’ he said. ‘You all right?’
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she snapped. She hated to be coddled by them.
‘Okay, keep your knickers on,’ he pouted. ‘I’m only asking.’
‘We’re just worried about you,’ Patrick added. Before she could reply he interrupted her. ‘Yes, we know you can look after yourself, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be concerned about you.’
‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just on edge, that’s all.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Marcus said. ‘The way he walked in here last night, like he owned the place.’
‘Well that’s Nathan,’ Grace said.
‘I don’t get what you ever saw in him, Grace,’ Patrick said. ‘He’s such an arrogant prick.’
Grace smiled. He was an arrogant prick, there was no doubt about that. But he hadn’t always been that way. Sometimes she allowed herself to think about when they first met and how incredibly happy he’d made her. After losing her dad she’d felt so alone. And then Nathan had bounded into her life, full of energy and confidence. He could make her laugh like no one else ever had. Whenever she was around him the whole world had seemed brighter, and she felt as if she could face anything with Nathan by her side. Dear God, the naiveté of a love-struck teenager, she laughed to herself.
‘What’s so funny?’ Marcus asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.
‘Just thinking about old times,’ she said. ‘Remember when we were young and dumb?’
‘Aw yes.’ He smiled. ‘You used to be so sweet.’
Patrick laughed so hard he spat some of his coffee onto the bar.
Grace ignored them both. She concentrated on picking an imaginary piece of fluff from her skirt so they wouldn’t see her eyes brim with tears. This was why she hated thinking about the past. About the person she once was. The person Nathan was. The possibilities of young love and everything that could have been.
Chapter Seven (#ulink_db07d36d-17a5-56c5-ae6f-012c5068eefe)
Twenty Years Earlier
New Year’s Eve
Grace saw him as soon as he walked into the Rose and Crown. She still considered it her dad’s place, even though it was now entirely hers. She felt completely out of her depth sometimes but being in the bar made her feel close to him. The familiar smells; the constant hum of chatter; the smooth wood of the bar beneath her fingertips; all of them were comforting in their own way.
Grace continued to stare at the handsome stranger. He was so incredibly gorgeous, that it almost felt like her heart stopped when she saw him. She unconsciously held her breath, afraid that if she dared to breathe the spell might be broken, and he would disappear into thin air. He couldn’t be much older than her, but he walked into the room with the confidence of someone who knew exactly who they were, and what they wanted.
As he made his way over to a group of people at the table she was clearing, she noticed the most incredible eyes she had ever seen. Cornflower blue, they sparkled under the bright light of the cheap chandeliers. His dark brown hair stuck to his forehead from the rain. Catching her eye, he smiled, and she almost dropped the tray she was carrying. It was as though someone had hit her knees with a sledgehammer.
‘Whoa!’ he said as he caught her by the elbow. ‘You been drinking on the job? You’ll get the sack if you’re not careful.’ He laughed.
‘That’d be difficult,’ one of the regulars chuckled. ‘It’s her pub.’
The good-looking stranger raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Really? I’m impressed.’
Scurrying away with a bright red face, Grace’s heart pounded in her ears. She hadn’t had much experience with boys. Having gone to an all-girls’ school, and raised by an overprotective, although well-meaning, father, she never got the chance to.
After taking the tray back to the bar, Grace went into the ladies’ toilets in an attempt to compose herself. She wished Marcus didn’t have the night off. He was as hopeless with men as she was, but at least he’d have made her laugh about the whole thing. Splashing her face with some cold water, she tried to cool her flushed cheeks. What an idiot, running off like that. What would he think? She looked herself over in the mirror. Was she plain looking? Well she was never the type of girl who got noticed at any rate. Fashionable? God no. Judging by the teasing she’d got from the other girls at school. Do your make-up in the dark, Grace? Go clothes shopping with your nan, Grace?
Her figure wasn’t bad though. Tucking the loose-fitting T-shirt she was wearing into her jeans, she smoothed the fabric over her flat stomach. Marcus was always telling her not to hide herself away in baggy clothes and to make more of an effort. Oh, God! How she wished she’d made an effort tonight. He must have a girlfriend anyway, and if he didn’t, he’d never be interested in someone like her. After drying her face, she left the sanctuary of the ladies’ room and made her way back out into the crowd, deciding to avoid him for the rest of the night before she got the chance to make an even bigger fool of herself.
‘You managed to break any glasses yet?’ A voice interrupted Grace’s thoughts as she sat on a stool at the side of the bar, nursing a Diet Coke. ‘I’m Nathan,’ he said and smiled.
He looked right into her eyes until she thought she might pass out from fear and excitement. She looked at him blankly for what felt like minutes, until he laughed. If it were possible, his laugh was better than his smile.
‘I’m Grace,’ she finally whispered, all the while chastising herself for being such an idiot.
‘Nice to meet you, Grace,’ he said as he extended his hand.
His hand was warm, and it engulfed hers. The roughness from his calloused fingertips juxtaposed against the soft skin of her palm. She held onto it just a little longer than could be considered polite, not wanting to let him go. When he pulled his hand away she missed the feel of his skin immediately, as though she had always known his touch.
‘So, is this really your pub then?’ he asked.
Grace explained about her mum passing away when she was just a toddler, and how she was an only child. She told him that her dad died a few months earlier, and left the place to her, lock, stock and quite literally, barrel. She told him all about how close she and her dad were and how lost she’d felt without him. Her only remaining relative was her beloved aunt. She was helping out with the pub over the festive period but had moved to Leeds a few years earlier when she met her husband. Before long, the handsome, intimidating stranger, had her jabbering about herself in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible only fifteen minutes before.
‘Grace! I hate to interrupt your social life, but your break finished ten minutes ago and unless it escaped your notice, we’re a bit busy,’ her Aunt Helen shouted from across the bar.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve got to get back to work.’
He took hold of her arm as she climbed off the stool. ‘So who is the lucky fella who gets to kiss you at midnight then?’
‘There is no lucky fella,’ she said as she felt the heat creep up her neck. ‘Why?’
‘Well we can’t have that now, can we? Everyone has to kiss someone at midnight on New Year’s Eve.’
Grace’s stomach started to perform all kinds of unexpected gymnastics. What did he mean by that? Surely not?
‘I’ll come find you at twelve,’ he said, before winking at her and disappearing into the crowd.
The rest of the night passed in a blur. Grace kept replaying the conversation with Nathan over in her head. Did he really mean he wanted to kiss her? Surely he was joking? Or drunk? Or both? What if he left before midnight?
As the night went on she became a bundle of awkwardness. Unable to concentrate on anything, she passed the same table three times before remembering she was supposed to be clearing it of empty glasses. She’d never kissed a boy before, at least nothing you could call a proper kiss. There was that one time when she was fifteen, with Jason Miller, the cool sixth former from the local boys’ school who all the girls fancied. Shuddering, she recalled that encounter. Although he claimed to be St Michael’s High School’s very own answer to Brad Pitt, he appeared to have no idea what he was doing. His tongue felt like a slimy fish, and he just stuck it in there. She’d almost choked. It had not been a pleasant experience. Grace had a feeling that kissing Nathan would be entirely different, and she couldn’t wait.
It was just before midnight and Nathan continued laughing and drinking with his friends. Grace began to wonder again whether the elusive kiss would happen. Why hadn’t he come over to her yet? Was it all a joke? Shifting from one foot to the other as the ten second countdown started, she was still alone in the crowd when she was suddenly grabbed by the waist. Turning around, there he was, that handsome face and those amazing eyes, looking right at her.
‘You’re fucking beautiful, do you know that?’ he said.
Before she could respond, he kissed her, and it was everything that she’d hoped it would be. She could taste the whisky he’d been drinking, and she wondered if it was that which was making her head spin and legs wobble. She swore, even if she never saw him again, she would remember that kiss for the rest of her life.
Chapter Eight (#ulink_4ebdb152-88e7-5b02-af1e-fb7c9d1dded7)
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.
Chapter Nine (#ulink_173d03ad-e3ca-5fbf-82b0-93312fb17178)
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 expertise. He was smart enough to realize that an offer of work from Tommy was a ticket to the premier league and just the opportunity he’d been waiting for.
Nathan knew he’d impressed Tommy. Well, why wouldn’t he? He was good at what he did. Tommy said he was a cocky little bastard but then he offered him the job on the spot. If Nathan could prove himself, he could move up the ranks quickly, and one day maybe even run things himself. It was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. His whole life had been in preparation for this. The thought that he was destined for greater things was the only thing that got him out of bed every morning. Working for someone like Tommy was what he was born for. Nathan Conlon was well aware that he was only good at one thing – hurting people. After all, he’d learned from the best.
