Brigands M. C. by Robert Muchamore Read Free Book Online Page A

Jordan’s teenage odour in the air. But this was the third morning he’d woken in a king-sized bed at the Bristol Park Hotel, after a night of drug-induced sleep.
    Nothing could compensate for the loss of Dante’s family, but the plush hotel did at least provide some novel distractions: room service, mini bar, on-demand movies and best of all swimming pool at the end of the hall.
    Dante’s family weren’t rich. He’d never stayed in a hotel before and he’d worn hand-me-downs from Jordan all his life. It felt satisfying peeling sticky labels and tags from new BHS boxers and socks each morning. Devon police had also granted him enough money for an Adidas tracksuit, two nice pairs of jeans, some warm tops, a camouflage coat and a pair of blue Etnies skateboarder shoes that were the coolest item of footwear he’d ever owned.
    Ross slept in the adjoining room and the doors in-between were propped open. Dante strolled through and found GMTV on Ross’ television with the sound turned low. Ross himself was in the bathroom using his Philishave.
    ‘Morning,’ he said, when he saw Dante reflected in the bathroom mirror. ‘Did you sleep well?’
    Dante smiled a little. ‘Those pills are like pressing a magic button. You take one and ZONK: fast asleep.’
    ‘I probably need to reduce the dosage. You don’t feel groggy at all? No headaches?’
    ‘Nope,’ Dante said, as he sat on the bed and eyed Ross’ laptop on the desk nearby. ‘Are they saying anything about us on the news?’
    Ross wiped his face on a towel and came into the bedroom dressed in his boxers and a vest. ‘I’ve only been up for about ten minutes but the story seems to have died down.’
    Dante felt disappointed. The story was out of the news after four days, but it would be the biggest thing that ever happened to him if he lived to be a hundred.
    ‘Your mood seems quite even this morning,’ Ross said. ‘You know you don’t have to hide your emotions from me? I’m here to support you.’
    ‘I know,’ Dante said. He crashed back on Ross’ unmade bed and stared at the ceiling rose. ‘I still feel upset when I think hard.’
    ‘But you feel like you’re beginning to move on?’ Ross said.
    Dante shook his head. ‘I feel weird because everything is different. Like, on Monday I’d never even met you. Now you’re like, my only friend in the world.’
    Ross was flattered and couldn’t help smiling. ‘This is just for a couple more days until we find a foster family, Dante.’
    ‘So,’ Dante said thoughtfully. ‘Have there been lots of boys and girls like me, who you’ve looked after when something horrible happened?’
    ‘I’ve interviewed and counselled children all over the country. I carry on helping witnesses right up to when they testify in court. Even afterwards if they still need me,’ Ross explained. ‘But most children in your situation have a grandparent, or an auntie or an older cousin or something who they can live with. This is only the third time I’ve lived with a child in a hotel.’
    Dante smiled. ‘So I’m special.’
    Ross laughed as he checked the time on the TV. ‘Special like every other kid I’ve ever worked with. Now, if I order us room service for between nine and nine fifteen that gives us half an hour for a splash in the pool. Does that sound cool?’
    ‘My swimming shorts are drying off on my towel rail; I’ll go put them on.’
    Dante’s shorts were still damp from swimming the night before and he shivered as he pulled them up his legs. When he walked back into the other room, Ross was on the phone ordering breakfast and Dante was shocked to see the Führer’s face on the TV screen. It was a black and white photo, and he looked much younger than the man Dante knew.
    He found the remote on Ross’ pillow and turned up the sound.
    ‘ Police say that fifty-four-year-old Ralph Donnington will appear in court later today. Donnington, who is the president of South Devon Brigands and more commonly known