Page 4 of British Bratva: A Russian Mafia Romance

“Alright Lizzie.” He squinted at me uneasily through a cloud of exhaled smoke from that first puff and I tried not to wrinkle my nose.

Ben was somewhere close to thirty, or so I thought. He was a big, beefy guy who’d looked out for me since my first shift here. And just like Cassie and Mitch had, he’d taken me under his wing in a kind of big brother role.

He fended off the cat calls and whoops the other chefs sometimes started up with in my direction. Not that I needed the help. Out in the bar I didn’t cross paths with them so often, but when we did it was pretty clear that I could hold my own. I wasn’t like the other waitresses, ready with a laugh and a blush when they tried something.

And he liked me enough to do what I asked, even when it wasn’t remotely sensible. Sometimes I worried he thought I owed him more than friendship.

“Did you get it?” I asked.

He gave me a long, hard look and I knew he was thinking of ways to tell me that what I was after wasn’t the right course. “Lizzie…”

“I told you not to call me that.” I didn’t like the idea of him thinking we were all that close, because I didn’t want to lead him on. “It’s Elizabeth or Liz if you really must. Did you get it for me?”

“Begging your pardon for being friendly.” He shook his head, and for a minute I regretted being so sharp. The big dumb idiot looked nearly wounded.

“Ben, please. I’m sorry. Did you get it for me or not?”

“Course I did. Do anything for you, I would.”

With a heavy sigh, he walked past me, over to the large rectangular wheelie bins and pushed the blue one away from the wall a little. I watched him crouch down and pick up one of those thin sports bags slung on strings. The way it hung taut told me whatever was inside was heavy.

I pulled the neck of the bag open when he handed it over to me and took out a bundle of old toweling.

Ben looked anxious. He kept glancing over his shoulder as though he was expecting a police raid at any minute. How anyone could ever think he was really capable of robbery, I had no idea.

“You don’t need to get it out here. Come on, seriously. What are you playing at?”

I only just managed not to roll my eyes and I unraveled the towel despite him. I wanted to see what my hard earned money had gotten me, his neuroticism wasn’t going to get in the way of that.

The weight of the revolver when it fell into my waiting palm was more than I’d expected. It was deeply, seriously cold and there was a deadly heft to the thing even though it was stubby and small. I tilted it to see the Smith and Wesson logo on the side, and a rough patch where what I guessed was the serial number had been filed off.

Ben let out an irritated huff and he glanced nervously towards the door. I swear I had more balls than he did. “Elizabeth…”

“What?”

“If the cops get wind of this…”

Ignoring his warning tone, I took hold of the gun with both hands, raising it high to squint through the sights.

“Tell them, did you? Relax. It’s not like some Community Support Officers about to wander round the corner.”

“Christ almighty. Stop larking about. Put it away before someone sees.”

A minute longer and he might have wet himself.

I shook my head, and lowered the gun. His nerves weren’t going to take much more. It was duly disappointing to see him act like this, but not exactly a surprise. I’d been badgering him about this gun for months.

“Calm down. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. No one’s going to come around the corner at this time of night. It’s only you and me still here from the hotel.”

“You don’t know that. Anyone could turn the corner.”

I really did roll my eyes then and I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine.” Taking pity on him, I re-wrapped it in the towel before dropping it into the flimsy gym bag. “Thanks again, by the way. This is perfect. You got bullets too, right?”

I didn’t want the lecture I could feel brewing, and I was trying to head it off by hurrying him up so I could make myself scarce.

Someone like Ben thought if you kept your head down and got on with the job life was going to turn around one day. It was why he was stuck one level above pot boy, and there was no way he was going any further while they kept recruiting people who were less nice than him. Less of a walk over.

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