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of a motorcycle – and rode like a madman – Carter simply didn’t acknowledge that there was a speed between parked and flooring it.
    Ryan and Taxiwere there too, Ryan’s full-belly laughter sounding out across the small pub, all of them sitting at our usual table in the back corner. Of all the Rogues I’d met since I’d stumbled across Gray one night by chance – and luck – this wayward group made up the ones I saw the most. Looking at the faces around the table, I guess you could call this dysfunctional, slightly bizarre group my friends. It wasn’t like my friendships with Steph or Spence, though I barely saw them any more, it was different. What I had with these guys allowed me a comfortable distance.
    And it was thanks to our frequent late nights at Barley Mow that I had found my job in the bar and my apartment upstairs.
    As I approached, Carter was giving Ryan a foul look – clearly he had been the butt of some joke – but on seeing me his expression morphed into a smirk. He held up his half-finished Guinness. ‘Karen’s started a tab.’
    Milo winked at me over the rim of his beer. And I knew that Ryan and Taxi would have included themselves in the free-round offer simply by association. I quickly tried to decipher just how many drinks they had managed to put away before we arrived.
    Crap.
    I narrowed my eyes at Carter as I went to the small bar to collect drinks for Gray and me and to explain to Karen, my boss and landlady, that the tab would be closing after the next round. The guys would drink the place dry if they didn’t have to worry about the bill at the end.
    Karen smiled warmlyat me, her yellowed teeth noticeable even in the dim pub lighting. She’d been a pack-a-day smoker since she was thirteen, and at fifty-three she had no intention of stopping now. She passed me two beers, her bright orange nails so long they curled around the glasses like claws.
    ‘Honey, you look like you walked into the wrong neighbourhood. Again,’ she said in her husky voice, raising her eyebrows at the last.
    I grimaced, realising how I must look. I probably should have gone straight upstairs to change first, but after everything that had happened at the tournament, plus being distracted by my overactive imagination at the meat market, I’d forgotten that I’d got a little messy earlier in the night. The guys, of course, barely sported a mark.
    ‘Does it help that I also walked my way out?’ I tried.
    She shook her head slightly. ‘The better question is: did anyone else?’
    I couldn’t help the small smile. Karen saw us all enough to know that there was … stuff going on around town that normal people had no business knowing about.
    I grabbed my drinks. ‘Trust me, that neighbourhood is now a safer place for us all.’
    ‘Uh-huh,’ I heard her murmur as I walked away.
    I placed Gray’s drink in front of him and sat down. I could tell he was talking business, and whatever it was, I already knew I’d want in. We all brought in the odd job, but it was Gray and his vast list of mysterious contacts who really kept us on the go.
    Carter glared at me as if reading my mind. ‘I think we should wait till Miss Steal-a-guy’s-limelight has gone to bed for the night before we discuss this.’
    ‘God, are you stillwhingeing? You got a fight tonight. You got paid, and,’ I motioned towards his half-empty glass, ‘in more ways than one. Move on,’ I said, exhausted more by him than by the night’s activities.
    And you’re all still alive.
    ‘I’ll take her to bed for you, if it helps out,’ Taxi jokingly offered.
    ‘Remind me why you’re called Taxi again?’ I asked.
    He smiled so widely it was impossible not to smile in return. Turk had given him the nickname about forty years ago. They’d been living in apartments next door to one another in Islington – the same ones where they still lived now – and whenever Taxi picked up a girl Turk would know about it because he’d hear some poor now-sober