Lone Wolf - Robert Muchamore Page 0,39

out on a limb because I like you, but you’d better get out of here before one of Hagar’s crew eyes you.’

Over at the pool table, the bully had finally released the headlock and his victim slumped against the pool table, gasping for breath.

‘He moved the black,’ the bully squawked angrily. Disapproving glances came at him from all sides as he grabbed his school bag and blazer off the floor.

Meantime, Youssef’s expression had turned deadly serious. ‘Craig’s here, Ryan. He breaks limbs with a baseball bat.’

Ryan had waited to make his move until he knew Craig was in the building, but he acted surprised.

‘My house is two hundred metres away,’ Ryan said. ‘They know where I’m at if they want to get me. I know I’m not gonna be in anyone’s good books, but they might at least respect me if I have the class to face up and apologise.’

Youssef didn’t agree. ‘Give it another week and talk to one of the younger lads. Going in when Craig’s here is not sensible.’

Ryan tried to sound all confident. ‘I’m not a pussy. I’m gonna stick my head in the lion’s mouth. Wish me luck?’

‘I’ve known these people longer than you,’ Youssef said.

But Ryan was determined. There were two offices out back. One belonged to Barry the centre manager. The other was primarily used by members of Hagar’s crew. Ryan caught the outlines of two bulky men behind frosted glass as he rapped on the office door.

The voices stopped. Craig stuck his head out into the hallway and put his pointing finger in Ryan’s face.

‘Wait,’ he ordered, pointing at a plastic chair before going back inside and closing the door.

The conversation between Craig and a spindly Asian guy kept going long enough for Ryan’s gut to turn somersaults. The guy sprinted off on some errand, leaving the office door open.

‘Let’s hear it then,’ Craig said, inviting Ryan in.

The office was small. The little desk was covered in tangerine peel. There was a fan running and a window open, but Craig’s aftershave dominated.

‘Got some balls showing up here,’ Craig said.

‘You deserve an explanation.’

‘Why wait three days?’

‘I only got out of hospital yesterday evening.’

‘You could have called.’

‘I don’t have your number.’

Craig snorted. ‘The likes of you don’t get my number. But you could have called one of your pals. Abdi, Youssef or whoever.’

‘They nabbed my phone,’ Ryan explained. ‘It had all my numbers on it.’

‘So, what’s your cock-and-bull story?’

Ryan shook his head as Craig took an ominous step closer. ‘I’m not lying, I swear. Someone must have tipped them off. They were in the stairwell, like they knew I was coming or something.’

‘It’s funny,’ Craig said, before a dramatic pause.

‘What?’ Ryan asked.

‘I’ve been sending lads up to that place on deliveries for ten years. Some lads have made the trek a hundred times and not one of ’em has lost gear.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Ryan blurted. ‘They were waiting on the stairs, and there was nobody inside apartment F3.’

‘I run a tight ship,’ Craig said, as he thumped his chest and moved so that he was almost touching Ryan. ‘If they were waiting for you, it must have been you blabbing your mouth off to someone.’

‘No way,’ Ryan said. ‘I never spoke to anyone. Face to face, or on my phone.’

‘So have you got my money? I reckon about three-six should cover it.’

‘How could I get that?’ Ryan asked.

‘You live with your big brother?’

Ryan nodded warily.

‘He’s been seen on a motorbike,’ Craig said. ‘If he sold that he could pay us back.’

‘This has got nothing to do with my brother.’

Craig cracked a slow smile. ‘In my book, it’s got everything to do with anyone who doesn’t want to see you get your legs smashed.’

‘Look,’ Ryan said, putting on his most pleading expression. ‘I’m smart. I’m good in a fight and I swear I didn’t rip you off. You must have jobs I can do to earn my way back. Anything you like. I can carry stuff around, run errands. I’ll scrub toilets if that’s what you want.’

Craig looked thoughtful before he spoke. ‘Can you clean cars?’

Ryan smiled. ‘Sure . . . I mean, I’ve never actually washed a car, but I’m a fast learner.’

‘There’s an industrial estate near King’s Cross Station. You can’t miss the yellow sign for the Kalifornia car-wash. I want you there on the weekend and every day after school. If you work hard, I might eventually find it in my heart to forgive you.’

‘How long?’ Ryan asked, but