Page 110 of Drift

“That right? Are Cillian’s balls bigger than mine? That is his real name, right? I mean, you should know about the size of his balls at least. Or haven’t you grown up enough to stop running away from trying to find out? Fuck, I’m gonna just call you Pinocchio: all that I just wanna feel a real boy. Either that or there’s some… freak out there who your body knows will go all woman with you.”

West flicked a frown his way, and Drift shook off her hold on his arm and went over, making it close enough to kiss.

“Carry it on,” he said flatly, all play dropped. “Because me, I get the best advantage point out there on the streets to see who people really are. And you?” A small smile. “All those backstreet blowjobs for the bent rozzers, not fighting the handcuffs and the fucking because you know another weakness of theirs.” He tilted his head. “It ain’t all down to musical talent with you, is it? All the best spots on the streets you get, where the rozzers just walk on by with a wink your way, no action taken until you drop your boxers once the crowd dies down.”

“What…?” West was over, shoving Keyne back, only to have Brighty come in and try to stop her. “Oh ain’t… ain’t you fucking something, Keyne? No wonder he’s so pissed off at you.” She laughed so bitterly. “You stupid, stupid, twat. Forget Drift, Jackson finds out, he’ll fuckingkillyou—”

“No.” Keyne backed off. “I don’t tell them nothing. I… I just get the best spots to bring in the best money for here, for ours. At least I’m no Ava’s pet.”

“Mouth. Fucking watch it. Jackson and West, they’ve earned the right to dig into me over Ava. But you?” Drift pulled West away, his focus on Keyne. “I know you’re no grass, that sometimes you have to do what you have to do. But that won’t matter one ballsac to Jackson, not when it comes to the rozzers. You damn well know that, so no matter your excuse, you keep your fucking mouth shut on the street. You keep it damn well shut in here, around her.”

Keyne paled as West shot Drift a hard look. Drift had known for a while, but was only giving the warning nowbecauseKeyne shifted his mouth their way, and her look called that out, that he broke his own no-talk policy only now, when it suited. But he didn’t care. Keyne was a cunt. He kept proving that, and his own screwup over getting under the covers with anyone wouldn’t ever be taken out on West. And, yeah, fuck him for kissing the cops.

No, it wasn’t ever Drift’s place to grass on crew members because he didn’t base with them, so he put it on West’s shoulders now. If she called dirty play for another member, it was trusted. So double-tap play: Keyne’s balls gift-wrapped and handed to her over, balls literally back in her court.

Only the anger in her eyes called him out for it, making Drift frown, back off. It put it all on her shoulders over tellingJackson, and her look cried no. Not with how Keyne gave a small, quick nod, then flicked a quicker look at her. She didn’t like the mind games, the forced compliance placed on those around her. But her eyes carried something else too. Something Drift avoided so damn quickly.

“Look,” said Keyne. “I—”

“New blood, right?” West’s bite was hard as she nodded back to the archway as a test on a violin string came through. “We go check them out because us, no trust with new blood comes first.” She dismissed them both and headed for the archway, then stopped.

After a moment, she came back and pulled Keyne into a brief hug. “Drift’s right. We do what we do to survive, right? No judgement, no grudge held. But it stops now, okay? No letting the rozzers touch you up.”

Keyne looked at her, then offered a serious frown. “Thanks.” He no doubt meant that, because that was West’s way of saying it went no further than her. “And sorry… for that shit just.”

“Like I said.” Her tone was harder. “Don’t do it again.” Then she glanced back Drift’s way. “New blood. We focus on that.”

The whole non-disclosure in and between crews saw him walk a tight rope his head couldn’t get off at times, and talking became hard, but he’d just proven to her that he would and could talk when he wanted to be a bastard. But it was frustrated bastardness, done to shut someone up who was taking shots at her.

Anger seemed to ease a little in her eyes, and a hand came his way. Drift took it and dropped his head a touch. Keyne frowned, then stepped back to let them pass, and damn it, the sorry in his look looked genuine there too. Maybe.

Drift went in too dirty sometimes, but there had to come a cut-off point when it came to the assholes in life, and Keyne could be a right one at times. Didn’t mean he was any better, but being better came a lot easier when he was around West.

As he stepped through the archway into the living room, Drift stilled.

The violinist who’d just walked in off the street….

Oh it would be, wouldn’t it?

Light.

A look came his way, and Light stilled in that moment too.

“Now look at that,” breathed West quietly, drawn to a stop as well. “Oh he gets my vote.”

“He’s not played yet, dufus.” Brighty pushed in between them and took a pew on the floor at the foot of the settee.

West chuckled so darkly. “Some music you don’t ever have to hear by ear alone, pip.”

Drift looked at her, never more… numb.

“Oops,” she mouthed. “Did I say that out loud?” She nudged into his shoulder, but her smile fell a little as she came in close to his ear. “It’s okay, y’know?” she whispered quietly. “I get the… confusion. I’ve lived with it all of my life. So you?” She lowered her look to search his eyes. “It’s okay. I just wished you’d come and talk to me about it at times, y’know? I’m kind of the one person who knows how you feel when it comes to… getting close to someone. And as for Ava?” Her look darkened. “I’ll talk about her all day, me. I still remember her first steps on the streets… how fucking scared she was, how she tried to pick fights with meand walked away with a bloody nose each time. She’s flesh and blood like me. She’ll meet her match out there one day.”

Christ, he fucking loved West. Talk was hard sometimes, tough, too hard, especially over West herself, and never more so with havingLightstood there in the middle of the living room.

“Jackson, I—” Drift cut that short as Light shifted a look his way and held it for so bloody long.

The phone. Fuck. Yeah. It had been such a big damn mistake taking it, and now he was fucked. If he gave it away he knew Light, that he had brought trouble to Jackson’s, fuck himself—West would lose any claim to a bed here. Yet say nothing…?

---