Slow Down

Chapter 9: 'There's Your Change.'

I'm back bitches

Patrick's POV

"You fucking idiot. You fucking idiot. Why the fuck did you do that? You're useless Bamford honestly."

"I didn-"

"Shut the fuck up. God you're stupid."

"Listen, Tony I'll have the money to you tomorrow. I haven't had time to-"

"No. You listen Bamford. When I took you on, I expected perfection from you. You need to handle this guy. I don't care what's going on in your little footballer world. But you need to get to this prick's house, get that money, or kill the fucker. Got it?"

"Yes Tony."

"Good. Here. deliver these pills to the apartment block near that little pub you and your football fuckers go to. Make sure you get £500 from that dick. He never pays right. If he doesn't, shoot him in the leg."

I nodded and took the gun he extended to me. I sighed. I had training in an hour. But if Tony wants something doing. I do it.

I took on this job a while back. Tony even made up a whole cover story. I didn't fight that player on the pitch because he 'bullied' me. It's because he works for Tony's rival gang, even though Tony doesn't like referring to himself as a gang leader. He prefers the term, 'the leader of an association dedicated to providing people with relaxation medicine and defence weapons.' Bullshit I know. The lad I fought on the pitch has always had something against me. Stabbed me in the arm once. I can't stand him.

I don't have depression, I wasn't 'bullied' by my team. I guess I just have some anger issues when it comes to the whole London drug cartel. You wouldn't believe how many footballers are involved with it.

Tony and I meet up in the back room of his nightclub, Campeona. It's Spanish for champion, which makes sense since that's what he refers to himself as. Tony's from Madrid and even though I was born in England, my mother was actually born in Spain and met my father here. Tony uses the club as his cover up and a way to clean his money. He's pissed right now because of the fight I had on the pitch. No one will suspect anything and I tried to tell him that. He covered it well. He also gets extra cranky when people owe him money.

I know it sounds stupid that a footballer works for a gang leader. I know I get a lot of money already. But I don't do this for the money.

I have other motives.

I put my hood up of my black jumper as I walk towards the door. I don't want anyone to see me leaving. I go for the door handle and step outside.

"Patwick?"

A familiar voice. A child's voice.

My eyes widened. I slowly turned around and faced the little girl tugging on my arm.

"Patwiiick! It's you! Remember me? I met you with my old cousin."

I squinted my eyes. 'old cousin'? I've heard that before.

"Rey? What are you doing?"

Another girl's voice.

Another familiar voice.

Rey? 'Old cousin'?

Oh shit.

I looked up.

There she was. She looked at me as I looked at her. She quickly looked at the floor awkwardly as I remembered.

"Madison, right?"

She looked at me again.

"Yeah."