The Reckoning (Carter Brothers), page 9
The problem was, he resented his dad, always had done. Even when he’d briefly worked for his father before being sent to prison, he’d only done so out of spite, just so his presence would antagonise Moray that little bit further. In some ways, they were too alike, both were headstrong and neither of them were willing to back down from an argument; they were the equivalent of two bulls locking horns, fighting it out to the death. They couldn’t change even if they wanted to, it was how they were made. ‘But I can tell you one thing,’ Aaron said, nodding towards the window, ‘I know what the bastard is like. He’ll keep coming back until I answer, and if I don’t’ – he gave the flimsy door frame an anxious glance and blew out his cheeks – ‘he’ll kick the door clean off its fucking hinges if need be.’
Skinny’s eyes widened and, turning his head to look at the front door, he swallowed deeply. ‘Do you think he knows it was you who pulled the trigger?’ he asked.
Aaron shrugged. Nothing would surprise him where his father was concerned. He was not only astute, but he could also smell bullshit a mile off; it was a particular knack of his and one that had stood him in good stead over the years. ‘Have you got any cash on you?’ he asked.
‘A bit.’ Digging his hand in his pocket, Skinny pulled out a twenty-pound note and some loose change.
‘Good.’ Aaron lifted his mobile phone to his ear. ‘We need to get out of here and fast,’ he said with a wink, ‘and I’ve got the perfect place in mind.’
It had gone 2.30 a.m. by the time Colm Garner had said his goodbyes to the staff inside his father’s club. Making his way outside, he pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck, stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked briskly across the car park to where he’d parked his car.
Moments later, the sound of heavy footsteps behind him made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end, and taking his hands out of his pockets, he clenched his fists, braced himself, then spun around.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ he cried out, as relief shuddered through him, ‘I thought you were the fucking shooter.’
Shaking his head, Aaron averted his gaze. ‘Trust me, bro, you’re safe,’ he mumbled under his breath.
‘What are you doing here?’ Narrowing his eyes, Colm looked between his brother and Skinny. ‘And what the fuck happened to you?’ he asked as Skinny hobbled towards him.
‘Long story,’ Skinny said through gritted teeth. Collapsing against Colm’s car, he took the weight off his injured foot and squeezed his eyes shut. The paracetamol had done nothing to ease the pain. ‘I think my ankle is broken.’
‘Has the old man said anything?’ Aaron interrupted, before Skinny could blurt out how he’d come by his injuries. ‘Has he mentioned anything about me?’
Colm’s forehead furrowed as he turned to look at his brother. ‘About you?’
Aaron nodded.
‘No.’ Colm looked back towards the club and frowned. ‘Why would he have mentioned you?’
‘No reason.’ Taking out his cigarettes, Aaron offered one to his brother and Skinny, then lit up. Inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs, he let out a shaky breath. ‘Can we crash at your place tonight?’ he asked.
Taken aback, Colm screwed up his face, his gaze flicking from his brother to Skinny. ‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing,’ Aaron answered, giving a half smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I just thought it would be nice to chill out like we used to do.’ He gave his brother a light punch on the arm. ‘I’ve hardly seen you since we’ve been out of nick.’
Thinking it over, Colm faltered. As much as he loved his brother, the last thing he wanted to do was to get mixed up with him again. Aaron was bad news; he always had been, only he’d been too blind to see his brother’s faults in the past. When they’d been kids, he’d looked up to his elder brother, had even tried to emulate him, and more often than not had followed him around like a lost puppy, and they all knew how that had ended. It was because of Aaron that he’d been locked up for the best part of his life. He’d only just turned eighteen when they’d been sent down, all because he’d gone along with Aaron’s plan to make a name for himself on the streets as a big-time drug time dealer. It was laughable, really, they’d only lasted a few weeks before being caught red-handed by the Old Bill, selling ecstasy tablets. ‘Are you in trouble?’ he asked.
Aaron shook his head; out of the two of them, Colm had always been the more gullible, something that Aaron had often used to his full advantage when they were younger. ‘Nah, nothing like that. Come on,’ he urged his brother. ‘It’ll be a laugh, you know it will.’
Reluctantly, Colm nodded and, pushing his brother aside, he opened the car door. ‘On one condition,’ he warned, eyeing the pocket of his brother’s jacket, ‘I don’t want you bringing any shit to my place, I mean it.’
Aaron held up his hands. ‘I’m clean,’ he said, ‘we both are. On my life, bro, I swear to you, I don’t touch that shit any more.’ It was a blatant lie, and they all knew it.
‘Get in,’ Colm sighed, already regretting his decision.
Flicking the cigarette butt to the ground, Aaron opened the rear passenger door, glanced back at the club then pushed Skinny inside. If their father decided to come looking for him again, he was hardly going to batter his brains out in front of his golden child Colm. A grin spread across his face and, as his brother pulled out of the car park, he allowed himself to relax. It might only be a temporary fix but at least for one night he was safe from his father’s clutches, should he have cottoned on to who was really behind the shooting.
9
If there was one thing that Gerry Mann despised even more than his adversaries Garner and McKay, it was being interrupted while in the sack.
Sweating profusely and panting for breath, he rolled away from Maria and snatched up the phone.
‘What?’ he spat.
As the caller spoke, Gerry swung his legs over the side of the double divan bed and began to pull on his socks. ‘Get over here now,’ he growled, switching off the device.
As she turned over on to her side, Maria looked Gerry up and down. Other than the black woollen socks that he’d pulled all the way up to his calves, emphasising the thick, bulbous, varicose veins that stretched out across his pasty legs like a network of blue spider webs, Gerry was not only stark bollock naked but also looked, for want of a better word, ridiculous. Not for the first time did a ripple of repulsion spread through her veins. At least Danny had a bit of class about him, at least Danny would have left the call to ring off. In that instant, she regretted climbing into bed with Gerry. She glanced down at her engagement ring; in the half-light, the two-carat diamond sparkled as though taunting her for the momentous fuck-up she’d made.
‘You need to leave,’ Gerry said bluntly as he buttoned up his shirt. ‘Get dressed and get out.’
‘What?’ Sitting bolt upright, Maria pulled the off-white flannelette sheet up to her neck and turned to look at the bedside clock. It had just gone 3 a.m. ‘How am I supposed to get home?’ she asked.
Giving her a cold stare, Gerry gave an irritated groan, then reluctantly flipped open his wallet. Pulling out a crisp twenty-pound note, he threw it on top of the crumpled bedding. ‘Call yourself a taxi.’
‘And they say that romance is dead,’ Maria muttered under her breath as she snatched up the money.
Oblivious to her sarcasm, Gerry left the bedroom and, moments later, she heard him padding down the stairs. It took all of Maria’s effort not to cry. How could she have been so stupid to think that climbing into bed with Gerry for a second time had been such a good idea? It wasn’t as though his home was even that nice, nor worth very much, at least not when she compared it to Danny’s. To be precise, Gerry’s house was a shit hole and, not only that, but it also stank of stale cigar smoke and damp.
As she clambered off the bed and hastily dressed, a sense of guilt ate away at Maria, an emotion that was totally alien to her. Gerry had been right about one thing, the only person she’d ever cared for was herself. Even her own her mother had called her a selfish, heartless bitch, and it was true she was all of those things. She’d only ever looked out for number one, it was who she was, she couldn’t change, she didn’t know how to, and more to the point, why should she? Maria took after her uncle Marcus in that respect; he too was a selfish bastard, and only ever looked out for number one, regardless of who he hurt in the process.
Her thoughts turned to her fiancé, good old reliable Danny. But the truth was, even he bored her now; she’d thought he was meant to be some kind of hard man and the idea of having a man who exuded both power and wealth had excited her to begin with, but all he seemed to care for was his kids, and the club. She could see nothing of his so-called reputation in him, so much so that she highly doubted that the rumours she’d heard about him were even true. Giving the bedroom one final glance, Maria couldn’t help but shudder. Making her way down the stairs, she entered the lounge, slipped on her high heels and collected her handbag. ‘What’s the big rush?’ she asked, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder.
Gerry looked up, his skin still flushed, his ferret-like features twisted into a snarl. ‘I’ve got business to tend to with Joey.’
Maria’s face paled. ‘Joey?’ she choked out. Her gaze darted towards the front door in alarm. ‘You mean he’s coming here now?’
Narrowing his eyes, Gerry studied her. ‘Have you got a problem with that?’ he growled at her.
Maria wanted to laugh. Of course she had a problem! She fancied Joey something rotten; he was just her type, dangerous and brooding, and if he found her here at this time of the morning, it wouldn’t take him long to put two and two together and come to the conclusion that she’d been to bed with his father. Shame rippled through her and, running her fingers through her hair, she pulled the blonde locks into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, in the hope that she didn’t look as though she’d only just climbed out of bed. She reeked of sex, she could smell it on herself, and, rummaging through her handbag, she took out a bottle of perfume and sprayed the scent up and down the length of her body. More than anything, she wanted to curse her stupidity. In any normal circumstance, she would never have even contemplated allowing Gerry to touch her, let alone take her to bed. The fact it wasn’t the first time Gerry had laid his hands on her was conveniently pushed to the back of her mind.
‘I’d best leave you to it,’ she said, delving her hand back into her handbag and pulling out her mobile phone.
Before she could even dial for a taxi, there was a thumping on the front door. No, she wanted to scream, no, no, no. As much as her body tingled with excitement to see Joey, the fact she had been caught red-handed with his father made her insides drop and her cheeks flush a deep shade of scarlet.
Moments later, Joey and Carlos entered the house and, as he walked through to the lounge, Joey rocked back on his heels. ‘Oi, oi,’ he said, stringing out the words. ‘What’s been going on here, then?’ he asked, eyeing the two wine glasses on the coffee table.
‘Never you fucking mind,’ Gerry spat, instantly wiping the smug grin from his son’s face. ‘Tell me what happened.’
In that instant, Joey became serious. ‘Groves has been taken care of.’ He paused for a moment. ‘But Skinny, the prick… he got away from us.’
‘What do you mean he got away?’ Gerry roared. ‘How the fuck could that skinny little runt have got away? There’s fuck all of him; you could have blown the little fucker over.’
‘He’s fast,’ Joey said, looking to Carlos for confirmation. ‘He clambered over a wall and had it away on his toes.’
‘And, what, you haven’t got the fucking nous to have climbed over after him, and given chase?’ Gerry berated his son, steam practically coming out of his ears.
Joey lifted his shoulders in a helpless gesture. ‘It was a seven-foot brick wall,’ he protested, ‘and with all the will in the world, Dad, that’s just not happening.’ He gestured to both his and Carlos’s muscular bodies.
‘And what about the other one?’ Gerry asked. Tilting his head to one side, he placed a cigar between his thin lips, lit up and puffed on it for a few moments. ‘Garner’s son,’ he asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke, ‘have you found him yet?’
Looking down at the floor, Joey shook his head. ‘No, not yet,’ he answered, ‘but we will do. They’re as thick as two short planks; they can’t hide forever, can they?’
‘Well,’ Gerry hissed, ‘you’d better hope and pray that you find them before they open their traps.’
Joey looked up and, taking the warning on board, he jerked his head towards Maria. ‘What about McKay,’ he said, looking her up and down with disgust. He was no fool; his dad was a randy old fucker who’d try it on with anyone with a pulse and the fact Maria had taken him up on the offer made him feel physically sick. To think he’d once contemplated shagging the dirty whore. It was bad enough that she’d opened her legs for McKay, but dropping her knickers for his old man was scraping the barrel, surely. ‘Has he said anything?’
Maria shook her head and flashed a wide smile that was wasted on Joey. ‘You’d be the first to know if he’d said anything,’ she said, her voice low and husky. ‘We’ve had a row anyway; the no-good bastard walked out on me.’
Not bothering to answer, Joey turned back to look at his father. ‘We’ll keep looking for them,’ he stated. ‘Like I said, they can’t hide forever, and you know me, Dad,’ he said, tapping the side of his nose, ‘I’ve got the nose of a fucking bloodhound.’
Gerry chuckled out loud. ‘You have, I’ll give you that,’ he answered, any feelings of anger leaving him. ‘Go on, lads,’ he said, glancing at his watch, ‘get off home and have some kip.’
As they walked from the house, Carlos turned to look at his friend. ‘What the fuck was going on in there?’ he asked, keeping his voice low. ‘Your old man and Maria.’
‘What do you think?’ Joey shrugged. ‘He’s shagging the dirty whore, ain’t he?’
Carlos’s eyes widened. ‘You’re kidding,’ he laughed, glancing over his shoulder to look at the house. Gerry had to be at least forty years Maria’s senior. ‘You’re not thinking of slipping her the old one-eyed snake as well, are you?’
‘Leave it out,’ Joey exclaimed. ‘I wouldn’t touch her with yours, let alone mine.’
‘Cheers,’ Carlos remarked in mock indignation. ‘Trust me, mate, I’m not that desperate.’ He shuddered, causing both men to roar with laughter.
The next morning, Danny was on a mission and as he strode on to the ward, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his mobile phone and scrolled through his messages. There was nothing from Maria, not that he’d expected any different from her. After all, she had thrown a glass at his head, and more to the point, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear from her. Ever since he’d put the diamond on her finger, she’d shown her true colours and he didn’t like what he saw one little bit. Moments later, he was outside the room Lexi was occupying and, as he peered through the window, all thoughts of his fiancée were gone from his mind.
His daughter lay back against the pillows, her skin deathly pale, surrounded by machines monitoring her pulse and oxygen intake. A thin tube had been inserted into the back of Lexi’s hand which connected her to a drip. There and then, Danny’s heart melted; just seeing her looking so small and so vulnerable was enough to break him and he vowed to find the bastard responsible for causing her harm. She might have been an adult in the eyes of the law, but to him she was still a child, and more importantly, she was his child.
He gently tapped his knuckles on the glass and, as the occupants of the room all turned their heads to look at him, Lexi lifted her hand several inches off the bed to give him a wave, reminding Danny once again of how close to death she’d been.
‘Hello, sweetheart.’ Entering the room, he made a beeline for his daughter, planted a kiss on the top of Lexi’s head, then stood back to study the monitor screens. What any of the results meant, he had no idea. ‘How are you feeling?’
Lexi managed a weak smile. ‘I’m okay.’ Wincing, she brought her hand up to her shoulder. ‘We’re like twins now, Dad,’ she said, referring to the faded scar Danny had in the exact same area, the result of being gunned down eighteen years earlier.
Even as Danny returned the smile, his heart plummeted; he would have happily taken the bullet for his daughter, for either of his children. Aware of his ex-wife’s hard stare boring into the back of his skull, Danny turned around. ‘Can I have a word’ – he jerked his head towards the door – ‘in private?’
Maxine hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to give her ex-husband the time of day. Since their divorce, she and Danny had had a frosty relationship and that was saying something. At the best of times, she could barely stand to stay in the same room as him. But after their daughter’s brush with death, she positively loathed him, so much so that wanted him out of their children’s lives for good.
‘Just give him five minutes, Mum,’ Logan pleaded, ‘I’ll stay here with Lexi.’
Reluctantly, Maxine got to her feet. ‘Five minutes,’ she warned, slinging the strap of her handbag over her shoulder.
‘That’s all I’m asking for,’ Danny barked back.
Thankfully, the coffee shop situated on the ground floor of the hospital was pretty much deserted. The last thing either of them needed or wanted, for that matter, was an audience.
Placed in front of them were mugs of coffee and, as Danny sipped at the steaming black liquid, Maxine spoke, her tone harsh and cold. ‘What are you doing here? I told you to stay away from my children’ – her eyes flashed dangerously – ‘and I meant every word. They don’t need you in their life, you’re tainted,’ she spat. ‘I always knew something like this would happen, that you and your way of life would put them in danger.’
