Page 1 of The Fall Guy

PROLOGUE

KADEN

NINE MONTHS EARLIER

When a job goes wrong,the consequences can be brutal.

I’ve got a busted right shoulder, which feels like it’s out of the socket, and a gash on my forehead allowing blood to run into my left eye. My vision is fuzzy around the edges, but I hold my body motionless.

Being stuck between a leaking sewage pipe that smells worse than a rotting corpse and a petite police officer with a malfunctioning torch gives me limited choices. At least the abandoned sports centre has dark corners and high windows, perfect for staying in the shadows. Up until now, other than a few injuries, the darkness has helped me stay out of the law’s grasp. Hiding in the men’s bathroom may have been an error in judgement.

There’s only one good route in and out unless I tackle the dirty water plumbed into the unsavoury toilet block. I don’t want my cut to get infected, but I’m not going down without a fight. Prison is a place I only want to visit on a monopoly board.

I curl my hand into a tight fist while determination washes over me—I’m going to walk free from this building. I readjust my thoughts; the police officer made a mistake following me here.

The torchlight flickers once more before we’re plunged into blackness, and her footsteps falter while she taps the metal barrel.

Time seems to stop as my chest expands with my need to suck in the stale air. I need to escape before I’m found and lose the element of surprise. Slowly, I force my breath out, pushing away from my hiding spot. Stealthily, I approach the policewoman, prepared to take her down.

The loud, pop, pop, pop from somewhere close by gives us both pause as her torch finally flickers on. Her deep brown eyes widen as fear crosses her face before her features harden into a scowl. She starts to raise her handgun, but I’m quicker.

Using my already injured shoulder, I slam her into the crumbling wall. Dust circulates into the air, giving a smell of dry rot. Both of us groan as she loses her balance and starts to tumble.

She didn’t stand a chance against my muscular physique. She slides down the wall while I use my left arm to push away. I make a break for the door as the torch rolls along the floor, and I lose sight of the gun.

Once out into the open hall, I head towards the drained swimming pool. It’s the way I came in and hopefully my easiest exit route.

Back when I was a kid, which seems like a lifetime ago, Eastward’s Athletics was a place to escape the pressures of being a teenager. I’d come here to burn off steam when my dad was on my case, or when my brother was trying too hard to please him.

I’m familiar with the layout of the building, even in the dark.

A door opens, followed by footsteps going in the opposite direction. Hopefully, the police officer is leaving.

I need to grab the bag of drugs I stashed before I get the hell out of here.

The lack of noise is unsettling, and I’ve heard too many gunshots in the last thirty minutes. Nothing good can come from lingering in this building.

Someone must’ve tipped off the police, which has led to tonight’s bloodbath. Two of our guys are dead, and at least a handful of coppers too. I don’t make mistakes. I’m not the reason this meeting went south, and I trust my crew with my life.

The Cyclones may be a gang of thugs, but they have been good to me since my father died. They helped me find a place to stay when my world was spiralling and my family couldn’t handle my decisions.

I’m not like my twin brother. He’s the good one, whereas I’m more of a sinner than a saint.

Just like the tattoo I have inked across my chest I have a darker side. It reads, ‘thedevil is the keeper of my soul, and my heart beats between the shadows of sins.’

That only leaves Rio, the buyer’s runner. He set up the drop-off point between the Cyclones and his wealthyfriend. He instigated every step of the deal, which isn’t usual when we’ve used someone before.

Wealthy buyers think they can call all the shots. It’s easier for us to accommodate what they want when they’re trying to play the big boss man. Although maybe this is something I’ll have to rethink now. Blood might’ve been spared if I’d chosen a different location.

I knew there was something dubious about Rio the first time I saw his piercing grey eyes. His curly blonde hair and scar-free skin remind me more of a cherub than a gangster.

He needs dirtying up a bit, a few rounds in a boxing ring or a street fight and maybe I’ll be the man to do it. I have a thingabout knives, but I’m getting distracted. I can’t afford to lose focus right now.

The door to the swimming pool creaks, pulling hard on its hinges as I push it open. With a bit of luck, the policewoman won’t realise I’ve doubled back to the meeting place. Cops were creeping around the building, but she seemed to be targeting me.

My feet slide on the blood-smeared tiles causing a jolt of pain to travel through my shoulder. Moonlight streams through the high windows giving a blue glow to the space. The old swimming area reeks of death. I stumble over a police officer’s corpse, crushing his lifeless hand as I struggle to stay upright.

It takes me a minute to realise but more than death walks in between the shadows. There’s someone else breathing in here.

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