So this is what it really feels like. Losing something. Properly. It feels like my guts have been ripped out by a pack of hungry dogs. I'd had a taster of it the last week, and I'd spent the week in some weird state of half grief.  But this felt different.

This felt more like the real fucking deal. 

I knew he wanted her.   I'd seen how he looked at her that night at dinner.   I'd seen and it had made me want to fly across the table and rip his fucking throat out. Except I couldn't because I wanted to impress her. Beating her friends to a fucking pulp wouldn't have done that.

In the end he'd done it his way and I had to hand it to him, it was seamless. Clean. There's a part of me that wants to kill him, which I cant do because he's one of them, and there's another part of me, a deep sadistic part that almost wants to thank him. Because now she knows and I'd never have had the guts to do it myself.

Since I'd met her I'd only ever wondered how long I'd be able to hide it all from her, and keep her from it all. How do you tell your darkest most horrendous shit to someone like her? How do you tell someone who looks at you like you're something special that you're actually a piece of shit? You don't.

I knew she'd walk away and that I'd have to let her because a woman like her didn't belong with someone like me.

For almost twenty minutes I sit outside her house with the overwhelming desire to smash down the brick wall between us with my bare hands. I should go back in, crawling on my hands and knees like the piece of shit I am. I should tell her I'm not letting her go and promise her the moon on a stick if she'll stay with me. I'd beg her if I have to. I'd tell her that I need her and that my life before her was a cycle of black shit and that she's the most perfect thing I've ever been able to hold in my hands. I don't deserve something as perfect as her. Even Caleb had come from a dark place –Vicky. Alex was unconnected to everything else in my life, she was pure and perfect and I loved her for it.

An idea pops into my head of taking Caleb and her and moving to some far off place where nobody knows us. I almost groan out loud from how much I want that. They're the only things that matter now. Would she ever even agree to something like that? Maybe. Before. Before I disgusted her, before she couldn't love me.

I glance down at the pieces of paper and photographs on the passenger seat - pictures of Kev and me, Danny and me, even Eddie Cartwright and me – before I put him in a coma. The others are random; me with the Russians, Danny and I standing by the docks. Me with Caleb. Danny with Katrina. They've been watching us for months by the looks of it. It's not too surprising. Danny instilled in us the notion that they could always be watching us. It's why we never did anything in public. It's why I'm not worried. I'd have been arrested by now if they had anything concrete.

What I don't get is how they knew about Sharon, and that I fucked her. Only two people know about that, meaning that either Kev or Sharon has a bigger mouth than I thought.

As I glance back at the house something pulls at me, urging me to give in to the gnawing feeling that's been eating me up inside since I left her. Then I remember the look of utter disgust on her face as she looked at me.   The face that this morning had looked at me like I'd always wanted it to. The look she'd given me when she thought I was a fucking rapist was all I could see now. That look had almost completely erased the look on her face when I make her come and when she smiles at me in that shy way she did – looks I'd pretty much lived on for the last month.

As I realise I'll probably never see either of those looks again my entire body clenches with rage and loss. I can't go back in there, not right now, not until I've sorted it. And I know exactly who to start with. I pick up my mobile and dial. Kev answers on the first ring.

"Where are you?" I ask him, before he has a chance to say hello.

"Dropping something off for Dan why?" He echoes. I'm on speakerphone in his car, that much I know.

"Meet me at the club in half an hour yeah?"

"Yeah cool, soon as I'm done here mate. Everything ok?" he asks. Kev would only ask me that question if he thought things were not okay, so by that assumption I'm guessing my voice is the giveaway.

"Not really mate no." I say as I shove the contents of the file back into the envelope.

He snickers. "See Jay, chicks are not worth the fucking hassle long term mate I've told you. Headaches the fucking lot of them."

"Thirty minutes Kev." I say and hang up.

Kevin's thoughts on my relationship with Alex have never been welcome. I don't like the fact that he knows her, or how we met, or where she works. It's a connection I'd have avoided completely if given the choice. I never wanted her involved in any part of my life; I wanted her separate, always separate from the dark parts. Kev is most certainly a dark part. Ours was a friendship forged by mutually destructive experiences, debts owed and secrets kept. He's not the darkest part though, which is something in his favour I suppose. Danny is that. Danny is a fucking blackout.

With a final look back at her house I start the engine. The next time I see her will be after I've sorted this. Then I'll come back and do the begging bit. When I've made some big changes and when I'm worthy of her. Oh who am I fucking kidding – I'll never be worthy of her. But I'd still beg. I'm not above begging her. She's the only fucking person I'd beg for anything.

The drive back to London I do in complete silence. Normally I like music while I drive, turned up so loud that it blocks out every other thought. Since I met her that need had gradually lessened, maybe because since I met her she was the only thing I could think about. I wasn't thinking about deals, or Danny or what sort of mess Kev would get us all into next.    Instead I thought about her. She was like a drug I needed every minute of every day. I was addicted to her.

Years ago when I was using, it was to forget the pile of shit that my life was. They were a coping mechanism. Now she did that. She was how I coped. She's the only thing that can make my mood change in an instant. Thinking about her, seeing her, being with her. She was the most addictive drug I'd ever taken and she was the kind you don't ever get over the craving for. Was. I'd need to find some way to get over the craving and fast, because she was gone. She cant love me. I disgust her.

Paul and some bar staff are the only ones inside when I arrive at the club. Kevin's white BM wasn't parked round the back either, and the fact that he's late only darkens my mood further. I nod at Paul as I walk through the place, the sense of achievement I normally get from it doing absolutely nothing for me now.    I can't think about this place right now. My head is full of her, the sound of her voice when she asked me to leave her alone, the look in her face when she said I disgusted her. She didn't say she 'didn't' love me. Only that she can't.

That still meant something. It meant she still loved me.

Yeah she'd looked at me with anger, and betrayal and disgust, but hidden behind all of that was that same look. She still loved me. My mind drifts back to last night when she told me she was in love with me. Why the fuck didn't I do more then? Say more? What the fuck did I say? It had felt like fireworks going off in my head at the time, I remember that much. Hearing those words coming from her mouth had made me feel guilty, I remember that too. Guilty for making her believe I could make her happy. I wanted to make her happy, I meant every single word of what I'd said to her, but some things, no matter how much you want them just aren't fucking possible. It was always going to end like this. Once she knew. Once she accepted what she knew.

My office is cold but I don't really feel it. I never really feel the cold. I've always had an abnormally warm body temperature, which had maybe been some sort of evolutionary process that'd come about during my formative years from the number of times Susan chose vodka over paying the electricity bill.

The fridge is fully stocked and the first thing I do is pull out a beer. Then I realise that a beer's actually not going to do it, so I take out a can of coke instead and grab a bottle of Jack from the low cupboard next to the fridge. The cupboard is also fully stocked, 4 bottles of Jack from what I can see. Yeah, that should do it. For an instant I contemplate the tequila but I haven't touched it in nearly four years and it ended up with me fucking Vicky in a toilet bathroom. So on that basis I rarely drink spirits. They remind me of places and times I don't want to think about. They also put me in places I don't want to be in either.

I decide to forgo tradition and I pour three inches of coke into a whisky glass first and then top it up with Jack. It's gone in four gulps and so I refill my glass, not bothering with the coke this time. Instead I grab a handful of ice from the fully stocked ice bucket and throw that in the glass. I really need to find out who stocks my office and give them a pay rise. Probably Gemma. She spends far too much time hovering about the vicinity my office. The jack burns my insides but sends a jolt of warmth to the cold icy pit of my stomach.

Ten minutes later as I'm staring out the window onto my club, and feeling the effects of a third of the bottle I hear a knock on the door and the sound of the code being punched in. Kev shuffles through it smirking. He always looks as though he's smirking. He has that kind of face.

"Alright mate? How's it going?" his eyes flick to the bottle he raises his eyebrows. "That bad? Smart ones are always the worst. High fucking maintenance." He shakes his head and goes to take a seat on the low leather couch by the window. He props his legs up on the table and rests his arms behind his head, looking relaxed. Kevin always has the ability to look relaxed. Even when shit is crumbling down around his ears he wears it like a guy without a care in the fucking world. It's something I'd always admired about him. It's the only thing I admire about him. He's a complete sociopath.

As I stare at him I wonder who would care if I put a bullet in him right now. He has a sister who I'm pretty sure despises him and a father in prison. No one would care. Danny might be slightly pissed off that his most eager lap dog was dead, and that would mean I'd have to fill the Kevin sized whole for a while, but other than that... I stare at him for a few moments while the idea takes root in my head and settles, comfortably.

"Did Danny ask you to pay Sharon a visit or was it your idea?" I ask, as I lift the glass to my mouth. As soon as Alex told me this little snippet this afternoon I knew who was responsible. This piece of shit in front of me is the reason Alex thinks I'm a raping woman beater.

Kevin doesn't look surprised by my question; probably because he knew I'd find out eventually. In fairness I had been a little distracted lately but he would have known I'd get round to it at some point. He doesn't move or change position, he just continues to sit there looking relaxed and conscience free.

"He still wanted his money. I offered to get it." He says, shrugging.

"From Sharon? I fucking told him I'd give him the money. To make up for mess I made." The night Alex sorted me I'd called Danny in Greece when I got home to apologise for losing my temper. I'd offered to pay Eddie's share since he wasn't in a position to make withdrawals at the moment. Danny told me I wasn't thinking straight and that he would talk to me when he got back.

"It wasn't your debt to pay mate. Dan was never going to go for that." He explains. "Tony, Eddie and that psychotic bitch just get away with swiping him?  Eddie Cartwright deserved what he got. You know what Dan said when I told him what happened? Why you went off? He asked why you never finished him. The cunt deserved what he got. He deserved worse than what he got. And there was no way Dan was gonna let you clear his fucking debt for him." He shakes his head and sits up, looking irritated, looking at me like I should know better than to question Danny's way of doing things. Like I haven't lived my whole life by Danny's way of doing things.

"So he condoned what you did? He sent you over there to beat up a woman? Or did you improvise?" I ask. Danny has dark parts too, he's the fucking king of dark parts but it seems out character for him to order something like this. It's beneath him. This has Kevin written all over it.

"A few days after, while you were indisposed, he asked me to go see if I could get anything new out of her – with Eddie out of the way. It got kinda ugly. Course she would have opened her mouth and her legs a whole lot easier for you, but that is one violent fucking bitch mate. Think I still have the scratches." He shakes his head, as though reliving a painful memory.

"Is that cause you fucked her when she didn't want you to? I'd imagine women have a tendency to scratch when that sort of thing happens." I say, gulping back the last of my glass. He looks mildly annoyed now, as though maybe I've touched some nerve he didn't know he had.

"She practically begged me for it. Guess she thought it would distract me or something." he looks down at his feet. Lying fucking cunt. My hand curls hard around the glass.

"So did you break her jaw before or after she begged you for it? Just so I have it straight." I don't bother hiding the disgust in my voice anymore, and Kev picks up on it.

"Why the fuck are you so bothered about this mate? That fucking bitch could have killed you. She stuck a knife in your neck Jay! Remember? She's a fucking lunatic." He holds his finger to his temple as he jumps to his feet. "She got what she fucking deserved, her and her rancid cunt." He spits and stalks toward me.

He grabs the bottle of Jack, unscrews the cap and downs a few large gulps before slamming the bottle back down on the desk angrily. I take a moment before I speak, to give him time to calm down. Kevin angry isn't something I like having to deal with. It happens frequently and he's virtually unmanageable when he's a ball of pent up rage. People tend to get hurt when Kevin's angry. Not that he'd ever hurt me, that's not what I'm worried about, but he'd leave here and take it out on some poor unsuspecting person. Sharon maybe.

"So what, you saying you did this for me mate? Revenge for what she did? You put her in the hospital out of some sort of twisted loyalty to me?"

He licks his tongue across his mouth and squeezes his nose, snorting loudly, swallowing down whatever remnants of shit he shoved up there before he came here. "I'm saying I didn't do anything she didn't fucking deserve. The bitch stabbed you."

He reaches out to lift the bottle again which he carries over to the large window. As he stares out of it I watch the huge expanse of his back flex as he lifts the bottle to his mouth and drinks. Kevin is a huge guy, bigger than me, and terrifying to most people, but there are only two things he's scared of - Danny and me. Me because he's seen my dark parts and knows what I'm capable of. He's scared of Danny because well, everyone is scared of Danny. Even me probably.

"You know they think I did it." I say and he turns around.

"Who does?" he looks angry again, alert and ready to defend my honor. Yeah he was loyal like that, in his own fucked up way.

"The police." I say, lifting my glass to my mouth. "Alex has a friend in the Met. He paid her a visit today. He told her they've reason to believe I beat and raped Sharon Cartwright."

Now he looks concerned, guilty even. That's a first.

"Fuck..." he says exhaling. "Shit."

I chew my lip and nod at him before sitting up to refill my glass. "You fucked up Kev. You went too far." I tell him. The 4th glass of Jack goes down much easier than any of the others. "They've been watching again too." I open my top drawer and pull out the file and slide it across my desk to him. He stops it with his hand before it slides off onto the floor.

"Well we'll have a word with Sharon and she can tell them you had fuck all to do with it. But if she's told them she was raped she's a lying fucking bitch Jay cause that's not what happened." Talk to Sharon? Him talking to Sharon is part of the reason Alex could barely fucking look at me.

He lifts the photos and walks back over to the couch. I suppose it is possible he's telling the truth about what happened. Would Sharon fuck Kev consensually? Probably. Would Kev beat her up afterwards for not giving him what he wanted? Definitely. He flicks through the photos absently as he drinks. "Well it's hardly a huge bleedin surprise. Dan knows they're watching him. They're always fucking watching him. They still haven't got a fucking thing." He shrugs.

I laugh and raise my glass. "Well no, not on Dan they haven't."

"Or you. They've got shit on you either mate. Don't worry about it." He looks down and flicks through a few more of the photos, eyebrows raised. "So he gave this to her?" he looks up at me. "He showed her photos of Dan and us and told her about you?"

"He gave her the file. She never looked at any of it."

"Just as well. Don't imagine your hot little doctor would be too excited to know how you spend your time when you're not with her." He smirks. I want to punch the smirk off his face. I want him to stop talking about her. I hate him talking about her, in any capacity.

She was all right wasn't she? Did you see that fucking arse? Wouldn't mind a go on a bit of posh cunt like that mate, know what I mean?

All things he said about her in the car on the way home from the surgery the night I met her. I'd wanted to punch him right there and then. Instead I'd made a promise to myself that I'd kill him before I'd let him touch her.

"I told her some of it. She kicked me out." I say.

"Like what?" he raises his eyebrows.

"Only what she needed to know. And only about me. She knows nothing. Calm down." I tell him.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight with my fingers. I mean you have to pay for your duplex apartment in central London and your sports car somehow right? Is that how you bought your nightclub too? You disgust me.

"Probably for the best mate. You and her," He shakes his head and twists his mouth up. "Just didn't work for me. I mean don't get me wrong, she was definitely worth a dip, but this thing long-term. Nah. Didn't work for me." He says conversationally, like we're just two friends talking about women over a drink.

"It wasn't supposed to work for you." I tell him through clenched teeth.

"Oh you know what I mean Jay. You're better off out of it. Women are cunts, you know this, which is funny cause it's probably the only thing good about them." He chuckles as he sips his drink. How the fuck have I put up with his shit for fifteen fucking years?

I think about the gun in my top drawer again and plan out how quickly I could get it out and pull the trigger before he even realises what's happened. I'm definitely more than halfway pissed if I'm thinking about shooting my best friend in the head in my office. I'd never dream of doing it here.

Who'd help me clean up if I did?

Paul probably would. He's never come out and said it but I'm pretty sure he despises Kev.  Yeah, he'd help. I'm fucking drunk. Or insane.

I need a plan. A cleaner one than shooting Kev in the fucking head. Which would solve what exactly? I need a plan that'll get rid of all the dark parts of my life in one fucking go. A plan that'll make me worthy of her. A plan that gets rid of the bastard sitting in front of me and the bastard he takes orders from. The same bastard I take orders from. The same bastard who calls me the son he never had.

The idea comes to me in a flash. It's bright and loud and takes the breath right out of my lungs. Never in my life would I have even thought I'd have contemplated it. It's the kind of thing reserved for the lowest of the low, for the scum, and the bottom feeders. That was before though, before her. Now getting the fuck out of the dark is all that matters. I'd lived this life far too long anyway. I wanted a different life. I always had. She'd offered me glimpses of what a life with her could feel like. She was the life I wanted. If I could pull this off then taking her and Caleb and starting somewhere else might actually be possible. I'm drunk.

My heart is beating fast and hard though and whether it's with fear or anticipation I honestly don't know. My mind seems to be hurtling forward now and there's literally no way of stopping it or changing it's direction.

"Kev, I have to make some calls. Do you mind?" I say as I sit up in the chair, the back of my neck prickling. He shrugs and grabs the bottle of Jack and stands up, his knees cracking as he does.

"Just tell me you're not gonna phone her and grovel Jay? You're better than that."

I shake my head. "Nah, fuck her. Plenty more where she came from." I lie. I always have been a very competent liar.

"Good man." He says raising the bottle toward me. "That's my boy. Speaking of which, is that hot little Gemma still working here? She has got some set of tits on her. You've seen them right?" He smirks.

I nod and smile back. "Yeah, they're pretty tasty. Think she's downstairs as we speak."

"You don't mind? You're not going back there are you?" He leaves the question hanging and I shrug.

"Plenty more where she came from too. Go for it, just try not upset her yeah? She's good at her job." He holds his hands up as if to say 'you know me - Would I?' To which the answer is yes, and of course he fucking would.

When Kevin leaves I pull out my mobile and Google the number of the switchboard. Before I hit dial I stand up and go check both the doors to my office, first the one that leads down to the fire escape and to the dressing rooms, and then main door, which Kev left by.

When I'm certain they're both clear and locked I walk across the office to the large glass window and stop. For a moment, as I look across the place, a small tingle of uncertainly creeps over me. I worked my fucking arse off for this place. The things I'd done to get it I wasn't proud of but everything past the front door was legit. I was proud of that. I was proud of what I had. It was a success too. But what did any of that really mean when I disgust her and when she can't love me? It was a building at the end of the day. A legitimate income stream as she'd called it - it wasn't a life. This place didn't make me smile like she did or give me a single moment of satisfaction that came close to what she gave me.  She was a life.

Her and my son are the only things that matter now. And I've always said, you want something, you go get it. You do whatever you have to do to get it, anything and everything. Guess this is where I see if anything and everything actually means anything and everything. The number rings through and is picked up by a bored sounding woman who by the sounds of it has about ten minutes until the end of her shift. She's mentally clocked out already.

"Detective Mark Holmes please." I tell her as below me Kevin walks up to Gemma, and grabs her ass. She jumps in shock and then spins around before glancing up to my window. Then she flicks her hair over her shoulder and hits Kev lightly, before batting her eyelashes at him.

"Who's calling?" She asks me, still bored.

"Alex Marlowe, I'm a friend." I say for the record and she tells me to wait a moment. Though I'm guessing if I really was a friend I'd have his direct number. She doesn't seem to pick up on this and then some shitty hold music starts playing down the other end.

"Alex, are you okay? You should have called my direct line." He sounds concerned. Like he has the right to be.

"It's Jake Lawrence actually. Sorry to get you all excited for nothing." I say.

He's stunned I think because he says nothing for a minute.

"Yeah, surprised is more accurate I'd say." He says. Personally I think he sounds more smug than surprised but whatever.

"You must be miffed then? You know since surprises seem to be your thing today." I take another sip from my glass.

He snorts. "So what do I owe the honour?"

"Well first, cheers for the photos, I don't normally photograph that well but looked really fucking good in these ones. I had no idea you liked me so much. Which was your favourite?" I try and smile but I'm really starting to doubt what I'm about to do now.

I'm more than halfway to pissed. I've decided to do this under the influence of alcohol. Nothing I've ever done under the influence has ever been a good fucking idea.

Then I think about her.

Smiling at me this morning over breakfast, hair tucked behind her ear, cheeks flushed, pale flawless skin screaming to be touched and kissed. The ache in my chest gets stronger and louder so that it sounds like a drum. Want and need and loss rocking my entire body.  

No, it's the right decision. It's the only fucking decision. I'm just a coward that needs to be half pissed to make it.

"I liked the one with you and Danny Ward outside Talia's Fortunes. That was my favourite."

"You know I'm single now right? So you could just come over and ask to fuck me in the arse? I'd break your fucking jaw but you could still ask."

"Threatening a police officer Lawrence?" he sighs. "You're smarter than that."

"You know I am mate, you fucking know I am.  Enjoy yourself today did you? Bet you felt like a real fucking hero after your little visit to my girlfriend.  If you wanted me that much you only had to ask, it's all I'm saying mate."

Mark's chuckle down the phone makes me want to put my fist through the mirrored window. I remember vividly the way he looked at her across the dinner table last week. I'm certain 90% of his visit to her was about wanting her.  Sure he'd like to put Danny or me or both of us away, but this was mainly about Alex.   I'm fucking certain of it.  Seems we might have at least one thing in common in that case.

"You're not my type." He says.

"No, but Alex is isn't she." I say as I take another sip, circling my tongue around the Jack before I swallow it.

"Is this why you called Jake? To talk about your ex-girlfriend?" He sighs.  The word ex is like a kick in the stomach. "Ok then. Any tips or advice for me?  Apart from not being a lying lowlife obviously. What about how she likes it? Any ticklish spots?" he laughs and my hand curls into a fist around the glass.

An image of him with his arm draped over Alex's shoulder looking smug and happy in her friends dining room flashes in front of my eyes and I practically need to swallow down a roar.

Mine. The word is strong and loud and clear.

Make it fucking happen then coward.

"No, actually. I called to talk about Danny Ward. You know the guy, the one from the photo you didn't wank over?" My voice is clear, and my head is too, finally. I'm doing this. It's the only way.

His extended silence tells me he's as shocked as I expected he'd be.

"I'm listening." He says eventually. Yeah I bet he is.

"I'm guessing you and your buddies down there have been after him for a while haven't you? I'm also guessing you've made little to no progress on that." I swig back the last of the bitter liquid courage.

"Are you going to get to the point?" he asks.  He sounds irritated but excited and it makes me smile.

"Well I might be able to help you out with that. Providing you can offer me something worthwhile in exchange." I say in a calm clear voice that I barely even recognise.

And with that it's done. A police informant. The lowest of the low. The scum of the fucking earth.

But that means nothing now.

None of the shit I've lived my whole life by means anything now. She's what matters. Having her be able to love me is what matters. I just hope it's enough.

Otherwise I'm a fucking dead man.