I took in the dead, the fucking container, and the fact that no fucker, none of the men that I paid, had a fucking clue what the hell was going on.
“Arthur …” Mikey shut the fuck up when he saw my face.
I held out my arms, gesturing to the entire fucking yard, and shouted, “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? And why the fuck do we not already have some cunt’s head on a fucking spike for fucking with the Adley firm like this?”
Freddie was over by the container with a couple of Mikey’s crew, wrenching it open. My breath came out in fast pants, the cold turning it into white smoke. Explosions of colour blew up the fucking sky, drowning out my rage.
“We’ll get them,” Eric said to me, and I heard the latch on the container door open. “We’ll fucking get them, Artie. No one messes with us. They can’t fucking hide forever. And when we find them, we’ll strike and tear them apart.”
One of the men yanked open the container, and the stench from inside barrelled into us like a freight train. “Shit!” Vinnie spat, slinging his arm over his nose and mouth, his shoulders tensed, ready for a fucking battle.
“No,” Ronnie whispered, then cut away from the rest of us. “No.” She sprinted for the container.
“Baby! Wait!” Vera gave chase, Cheska and Betsy on her heels.
I started storming toward them, just as a fucking explosion came from our left. I whipped my head to the docks, only to see a boat alight on the water, fire fucking blazing. The flames climbed high and the engine exploded, the noise of which was drowned out by the fireworks still flaring up above.
“Fuck!” Charlie shouted, and my chest pulled so tight I thought it might rip the tendons. “What the bloody hell is all this?”
Vera and Betsy were beside us again, guns drawn, ready to fight anyone who used the cover of the blast to come at us.
I heard Ronnie scream, then turned to see Cheska and Ronnie trying to open the nearest cage. I narrowed my eyes and saw the girls inside starting to wake. “They’ve got the brand,” Ronnie said, her voice fucking laced with pain. “Get them out. Get them all out! They’ve got the brands on their backs.”
Cheska dived forward, helping her. Another explosion sounded—another empty container on the west side of the yard burst into flames. Agonised screams cut through the chaos as some of Mikey’s crew crawled away from the explosion, trousers and coats on fire. Eric and Vinnie ran to help them.
“Cheska!” I shouted, my voice fucking echoing around the blazing yard. “Get the fuck here!”
“Ronnie!” Vera ran for her girlfriend.
Cheska and Ronnie were dragging a girl from the cage, the bird’s limbs limp and weak. Cheska looked back at me but continued trying to drag the trafficked woman out. I started running, overtaking Vera just as something on the side of the container caught my eye.
“CHESKA!” I screamed, seeing the casing of an explosive on the container door.
“No! NO!” Vera spat when she saw what I was fucking glaring at. Cheska grabbed Ronnie’s arm and tried to pull her away, knowing something was wrong. But Ronnie wouldn’t move. She fought to get Cheska to stay near the girls, to help her open more of the cages.
Like fucking slow motion, the world tripping into half speed, I saw the fire ignite at the back of the container as I reached Cheska. I threw her to the ground, covering her with my body as the fucking thing blew. A thunderous boom took out the dumped container and all the trafficked women inside, the smell of burning flesh immediately lashing around us.
Cheska was still beneath me. I reared back, turning her over. I hadn’t been quick enough. She took too much of the fucking blowback. Scratches and cuts covered her skin, dirt from the ground. “Princess,” I said, pulling her into my arms. The fire from the burning container singed the back of my coat. I didn’t fucking give a shit. “Princess, wake the fuck up!” I snarled and felt my stomach sink. A fucking great big hole burrowed in my chest, caved in my fucking bones as I stared at Cheska’s closed eyes.
Emptiness chased everything else out of my body as I pulled her closer to my chest. She was dead. She was fucking dead …
Someone touched me, and I lashed out, grabbing their fucking hand. I yanked them to me, ready to rip out their throat for coming too close to me and my bird. “Artie, it’s Charlie. You need to move from the fire.” I stared into my cousin’s brown eyes, letting my brain calm the fuck down and back off from slitting his throat.
“She’s gone. She’s fucking gone!” I roared. The need to destroy whoever did this consumed me, became all I fucking was. I held Cheska tighter. She still felt warm. Still felt perfect in my arms. My Chelsea girl. The only fucking bird who had ever got through the darkness, the blackness plaguing my fucking half-dead heart.