Steve breathed a huge sigh of relief. Whatever happened, he was guaranteed to walk away with at least forty thousand pounds in his pocket. I’ve done it. Of course, he still had the potential to make another twenty grand, but this was more than enough to pay off his debt. He allowed a broad grin to spread across his face and congratulated Jennifer, a smile breaking through her façade, on making it to the final two. She thanked him, then said something that almost knocked him off his feet.

  “Would you consider a deal?” She smiled at his expression. “I’ve got to say you played extraordinarily well. I’ve been watching you on the stream throughout the tournament, and I’m sure you’d make a great adversary in a heads-up battle. But I’ve played plenty of these types of tournaments before and I know how wide the variance can be when you get to the final two.” She paused to let that sink in. “As we are both even in chips, more or less, why don’t we split the money fifty-fifty?” She continued to smile at Steve; she seemed confident of a yes. It crossed Steve’s mind to say no. He could see what cards Jennifer had – obviously, she didn’t know that – but it seemed like a big advantage to give up. Steve was sure that most people in his situation would say no. But he’d achieved what he set out to do. They could play on now, and he might well win the first prize; but things could easily go wrong too, as they had the last time, he’d been heads-up. Jennifer might just get better cards than him and hit pairs or better. He could risk that; or he could agree to walk away now with an extra twelve grand in his pocket, on top of the forty he was guaranteed to win.

  He took a deep breath. “Do you know what, I’m not gonna be one of those guys who gets too greedy, so let’s do a deal. I’d be happy to shake your hand on an even split. Let’s take £52,000 each, and run one hand to see who takes the trophy.” Steve offered his hand, Jennifer shook it firmly, and the tournament director asked them both to sign off that they were happy with the deal. Suddenly, Steve felt very tired. He couldn’t wait to get home and see Tanya and the girls. His mission was over, and it was time to return to normal life.

  They ran the final hand, and Steve ran out the winner with three of a kind on the river. Blake Andrews left the commentary booth to present the trophy to Steve, congratulating him and letting him know about the new nickname he’d been given. I’ve been called worse. He posed for photos with the trophy, a large glass vase, almost the same size as Steve’s upper body, with ‘Steve Ash: True Grinder’ engraved into it and his winning hand, which he was slightly embarrassed about, as it was seven-two off-suit. Once they had finished taking photos, Steve walked over to the cash desk and was greeted by a lady in her forties who had massive bags under her eyes. She looked like she’d been awake for three days.

  “Well done love, I’ll bet you’re well chuffed with your winnings.” a grizzled voice droned from behind the glass screen. “How would you like to get your prize?”

  “Can you send it through on a bank transfer?” Steve asked.

  “Yes dear, I’ll need your account number and sort code please.” Steve gave her his details and she input them into her computer, her long nails clacking against the keyboard as she typed. “Shouldn’t be long now love, I’ve got the blue spinning wheel going on the screen… So, you going to do anything nice with the money?” How nosey is she?

  “I haven’t decided yet, I’ll probably put it into some savings.”

  “You could go on a nice holiday somewhere, maybe try the Greek islands if you haven’t been? I went last year, they’ve got some lovely… Ooh, your transfer’s just gone through. Here’s your receipt love. The money should be with you in the next two hours or so. Anything else I can do for you?”

  “No that’s it thanks!” Steve said as he grabbed his receipt and got out as fast as he could. He made his way back to the Astra and put the trophy in the passenger seat, strapping it in with the seat belt. He drove back to the apartment, where he had planned to stay at for one more night, but instead he packed his bags and headed back home.

  Chapter 15

  Steve decided to wait until he got home to tell Tanya the good news. A weight had lifted from him; a weight he hadn’t even known was there. As he drove, he couldn’t stop smiling, even when his cheeks began to ache. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to pull off the heist and get away with the money, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the audaciousness of what he’d achieved.

  Steve put on his favourite rock playlist and sang at the top of his lungs all the way home. It was around 9 pm when he got in, and the lights were on in the living room. Steve let himself in and walked into the sitting-room to see Tanya open-mouthed on the sofa. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she said, patting the seat beside her. “How come you’re back early?”

  “Well, baby, you know that tournament I said I was going to win?” said Steve, savouring the moment. “I only bloody went and won it!”

  “Are you having me on?” Tanya said, jumping out of her seat. Steve whipped out his phone and showed Tanya the balance of his online bank account, in which sat an additional £52,000. Tanya didn’t say anything. She simply stood there, unable to stop herself from shaking, tears streaming down her face. Then she stepped forward and hugged him, whispering “I love you, baby,” into his ear.

  “Um, I should probably bring my stuff in,” said Steve, disengaging himself gently. He fetched his suitcase, took it up to the bedroom, and began unpacking. Tanya stood in the bedroom doorway; a broad grin spread across her face.

  “Why don’t you go and get yourself a beer? You deserve to celebrate. I’ll unpack your bag and put your dirty stuff in the washing machine.”

  “Thanks babe, you’re the best!” Steve said, unable to suppress a yawn. He went downstairs, got a beer from the fridge, and went to watch TV. He heard Tanya come down, and the clunk of the washing machine door opening. You star, he thought. Then he remembered the trophy, still sitting in the passenger seat of his car. I must show Tanya that, he thought, getting up.

  He walked into the kitchen holding the trophy above his head with both hands; then nearly dropped it when he clapped eyes on Tanya. She was wearing the glasses. “I-I can explain,” he stammered, putting the trophy on the worktop. Tanya whipped the glasses off and stared at him.

  “You’ll need to. Even I can tell that these aren’t normal glasses. Why do they say Loading? Loading what?”

  “Things were desperate,” he whispered. Tanya continued to look at him, waiting. “I just needed to find a way to get us out of the mess that I got us into. I never meant to hurt anyone, I never meant for anyone to find out. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to bring them back from Nottingham. But please know I always did it with you and the girls in mind. It was never for me. I just wanted to repair the damage I’d done.”

  “So, this is how you won the tournament,” said Tanya. “By cheating.”

  Steve looked at the floor. “Um, yeah.”

  She sighed. “What exactly do they do?”

  Steve looked up, expecting to see fury, but Tanya looked strangely calm. “They’re a miniature version of the cameras that James and I installed in the casino. I’ve been using them to see the other players’ cards.”

  Tanya turned away, and Steve’s heart sank. I’ve lost her. Then her shoulders relaxed, and Steve felt a glimmer of hope. Then she faced him, still with that calm expression. “I really don’t know how I should feel. You’ve done something really bad, Steve, but you did it for the right reasons.”

  Steve took a step towards her, but she held up a hand. “Are you sure nobody knows you did this?”

  “Yes, I’m certain.” he replied. “They’d never have let me take the money if they’d caught on.”

  “You can never, ever use these again,” Tanya said. “Do you understand?” She sounded as if she was admonishing one of the children. Steve swallowed. His mouth was bone dry.

  “Yes.”

  Tanya sighed, and her shoulders drooped, as if the fight had gone out of her. “Go out and get rid of them. Somewhere that can’t be traced back here. When you come back, we’ll talk some more.”

  Steve opened the front door a crack and looked outside. It had begun to rain, so he grabbed his raincoat before leaving. He knew exactly where he was going to get rid of them, and set off at a fast walk. He crossed the road, taking a shortcut down an alley, then took a sharp left and followed the road around a block of flats until he reached the canal bridge. He stood at the top of the bridge and opened the glasses case one last time. He looked down at the nerdy frames, smiling at what he’d got away with. Never again.

  “Ow!” Steve clapped a hand to his neck and felt something small and sharp lodged there. What the fuck? He pulled it out. A dart…

  And everything went black.

  Chapter 16

  Steve woke up, stiff and cramped. He opened his eyes to red light. Where am I? He tried to uncurl himself but couldn’t. His hands and feet had been tied together, and he was gagged with a strip of cloth. But he was moving; he could feel his body pushing against the space he was in as he changed direction, and he could hear the hum of an engine. I’m tied up in the boot of someone’s car. What the fuck is going on? Steve wriggled around testing what he could and couldn’t move. Whoever had kidnapped him had tied him up expertly, and there was no give in the knots. He tried to remain calm; there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t even hear any passing traffic, only occasional birdsong when they came to a halt. Eventually, they stopped, and he heard the clicking of a handbrake. They had reached their destination.

  Steve braced himself for a fight, and as the boot was opened, he wriggled around trying to resist his captor. His captor looked muscular and wore a black hoody with the hood up covering his face in shadow. He grabbed Steve’s shoulder, and punched him hard in the face, a white fist flashing out of the black sleeve. Then he dragged Steve out of the boot, and Steve glimpsed what looked like the car park of an industrial estate before a black bag was thrown over his head. It smelt of dog. “This will all be over soon.” a voice with a thick eastern European accent told him. What the fuck does that mean? Are they going to let me go, or are they going to kill me? Steve thought about Tanya, and the way that they had left things. He wished it could have been different. He thought of his two young daughters and prayed he would get the opportunity to see them again.

  He was pulled into a cold building, the door making a loud metallic bang as it was closed. Then he was dragged across a large concrete floor, before being sat in a chair. He tested his bonds, trying to escape, and received another hard punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of him. The Russian kicked his legs out from underneath him, and Steve landed hard on a chair. The Russian pulled his arms around the back of the chair, tying them together whilst Steve tried to catch his breath, before wrapping some rope around his midriff. Steve felt the rope pulled tighter, his raincoat protecting him from rope burn. He removed the bag on his head and the binding in his mouth and eventually Steve caught his breath, but it was too late, he had already been tied to the chair. The man walked away and out of the metal door he had come through. Steve stared straight ahead, at a man sitting across from him, also tied up. He had been beaten unconscious; he had two swollen black eyes, and his face was so covered in cuts and bruises that Steve barely recognised him. “James…?” he whispered. He heard the metal clang as the Russian left the building.

  James didn’t stir. “James, wake up,” said Steve in his normal voice. “It’s me. Steve.” James stirred and opened one eye; the other was swollen shut. The eye fixed on Steve.

  “Uh.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Steve asked.

  “Huh, Stevey-boy. Didn’t think I’d see you again.” He spoke slowly, his mouth struggling to form words. “I know why I’m here, but I don’t know about you.” Bloody spittle trickled from the corner of his mouth.

  “Why did you do it, James? We could have had a great business together, but you double-crossed me and left me with crippling debt. I nearly lost everything.” Steve’s voice rose.

  “Sorry ‘bout that…”

  Steve stared at James. “Is that all you can say?”

  James shrugged as best he could. “What do you want me to say? Do I regret it? No. I made so much money, I tasted real power, and you’ve got to climb over people to reach the top.” He spat some blood onto the floor. Steve’s eyes widened. Even now, when they were probably both about to die, James regretted nothing. And it was James’ fault that he was here. Steve looked around the warehouse. Is there anything here I could use to escape? There was nothing in his line of sight. He tried to move the chair, using his hips to propel himself forwards. He managed to move a few inches, but not without making a loud scraping noise. “Heeeeeelp,” Steve yelled, at the top of his lungs.

  James looked up at him with his one good eye. “Don’t waste your breath pal,” he said. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Steve heard a loud metal clang behind him. He wriggled in his chair, trying to break free. He turned his head round as far as he could, still shouting for help, and eventually a short, muscular man walked into view. He motioned to Steve for silence, and Steve closed his mouth.

  “The famous Steve Ash,” he said, smiling. “I’ve been watching you for a long time.” Steve stared at him. They knew all along. “You’re probably wondering who I am; my name is Eddie. I’d shake your hand, but you seem to be a little tied up,” he said, the smile becoming a smirk. “I believe the two of you have already met,” Eddie said, indicating James. “In fact, if my sources are correct, we’re not the first people James has screwed. The two of you had a business together, right?”

  Eddie walked out of sight, and Steve heard the sound of running water. Then Eddie reappeared, holding a bucket. “Let’s wake you up a bit,” he said, and taking careful aim, threw the bucket of water over James. James gasped for breath, then shivered violently, looking up at Eddie with his one eye.

  “How does this make you feel, Steve? Seeing the man who stole your life like this?” He put on a knuckleduster, then punched James in the face. As he made contact, Steve heard the crunch of breaking bone. “This is for Steve, you prick!” he yelled. Steve closed his eyes. He hated James, but he couldn’t watch this. “Oh no, no, no,” Eddie said, very reasonably. “You can’t close your eyes, Steve, you’ll miss the show.” Steve reluctantly opened his eyes. To his relief James was unconscious again, his head lolling on his chest.

  Eddie walked over to Steve and crouched, so that they were eye-to-eye. “You’ve been a naughty boy too, haven’t you Steve?” he said, in a sing-song voice. “You’ve been using technology to cheat, haven’t you Steve? You’ve won a lot of money, haven’t you Steve?” His voice grew louder with each question. “Have you seen the movies where people get caught cheating in casinos? Have you seen what happens to them? People don’t think that happens in real life, and they’re right.” He leaned in until his face was very close to Steve’s. “We’re far worse,” he whispered, and a maniacal smile spread over his face.

  Eddie straightened up and walked back towards James. “Our friend James here got greedy. Did you know we were using the cards on the blackjack table too, Steve? Now, there are only a few people with access to the video feeds. Myself, the casino managers, and James fucking Baldwin.” He punched James hard in the gut, and James regained consciousness, groaning and hunching over as far as his bindings would allow. He coughed as he tried to catch his breath. “James decided he was going to use his inside knowledge, just like you, except he couldn’t do it himself. So, he sent some little rats in to do it for him. They sat at our blackjack table, while James here fed them information through a tiny earpiece. They stole hundreds of thousands of pounds,” he said, his lip curling. “We brought one of them in for interrogation, and when we offered to let him keep some of the cash, he spoke up pretty quick.” Bloody drool started to dribble from James’s mouth again.

  Eddie walked back towards Steve. “Now then, Steve, you like games, so I’m going to play a little game with you. Don’t worry, the rules are very simple. I’m just going to ask you some questions. Every time you answer with a lie, I’m going to punch you… and if you answer more than one question in a row incorrectly, I’m going to hit James with that baseball bat.” Eddie pointed to a spot almost out of Steve’s peripheral vision. “I’ll just move it a bit closer.” Eddie walked away and returned, scraping the bat along the ground as he walked along. When he got back to Steve, he dropped the bat with a clatter which echoed around the room.

  “Let’s start with an easy one,” he said. He crouched down suddenly, and Steve flinched. “Did you cheat at poker?” Steve thought about whether he could lie, then realised that even if he had played legitimately, Eddie had decided what the correct answer would be.

  “Yes, I did,” he said reluctantly. James’s head lifted slightly at his admission of guilt. Even through the bruising and swelling of James’s face, Steve could see his surprise.

  “Good man. I hate it when people lie,” said Eddie. “Next question. Did you use these glasses to do it?”

  Steve looked up to see Eddie holding his glasses. “Yes, I did.”

  “Good; you know how to play.” Eddie walked out of Steve’s eyeline and Steve heard a dragging sound. When he came back into view, he was pulling a small table, which he positioned in front of Steve. “Look down.” On top of the table were pictures of Tanya, Ellie and Fiona. Shit, shit, shit. How the fuck does he know that? Steve gulped. I can’t give them up. “Is this your family?” Eddie asked, a searing tone in his voice.

 

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