The Mercedes crunched along the gravel drive and came to a stop outside an enormous brick-built double-fronted residence. It was common knowledge that the London underworld was awash with cash and Jethro’s home only highlighted this fact. Under any other circumstances, I would have been delighted to have had the opportunity to spend time at a beautiful property like this, with its manicured lawns and landscaped gardens. But I hadn’t been invited here as a guest; I’d been forced to come against my will.
Knuckles stepped out of the car and opened the back passenger door. Jethro gestured for me to get out.
‘What about Luca?’
Jethro laughed. ‘You didn’t think I was going to leave him here on his own, did you? What do you take me for, Gemma, a monster? Knuckles is going to bring the baby.’
The house was in the middle of nowhere with no immediate neighbours. A perfect spot really for a man like Jethro. He could come and go as he pleased with no prying eyes watching him. But the fact that the mansion was so isolated wasn’t good news for me.
The sound of Jethro’s leather shoes reverberated in the air around us as he climbed the stone steps of the property and stood outside the set of oak doors. My eyes were drawn to the glass above them. The name Darkwood Manor was embossed on it. While he waited for us to join him, he placed his hands into the pockets of his dark navy suit and surveyed his kingdom. It was vast. Three raised terraces like the ones you’d see at a stately home overlooked the front aspect of the house.
Jethro opened one of the heavyset doors and stepped into the hallway. As he did, the light bounced off the polished white marble floor. Knuckles followed him, carrying Luca in his car seat, and I brought up the rear. Although I already had high expectations, the house exceeded them the minute I crossed the threshold. The enormous space was tastefully decorated and the epitome of luxury.
Jethro turned right and walked into the living room where a real fire roared in the feature fireplace. The room felt warm and cosy with its solid wood flooring, deep purple walls, and matching velvet furnishings.
‘Put the baby down over there, Knuckles, and get Gemma a drink,’ Jethro said as he played the part of the charming host.
Knuckles placed the carrycot down on a thick aubergine-coloured rug before walking to the back of the room. He opened up a set of double doors and revealed an oak-beamed area that was set up as a miniature pub complete with beer pumps and a fully stocked bar. An exposed brick wall on one side gave the room a rustic appearance. The other three walls were painted foxglove pink and matched the upholstery of the tall stools that stood in front of the panelled bar. It reminded me of a gentlemen’s drinking club, but the pink hue gave it a feminine touch.
Knuckles reached up and took a large glass down from the hanging rack. ‘Do you want a gin and tonic, Gemma?’ he asked.
I thought about having a soft drink so that I could keep a clear head but decided against it because I hoped the alcohol might help to calm my nerves. ‘Yes, please.’
‘Mr Watson is a bit of a connoisseur and has quite a collection. Is there any particular one you’d like?’ Knuckles asked gesturing to the enormous selection on the glass shelves behind him.
‘I don’t mind – surprise me.’ After the words left my mouth, I wished I hadn’t said them. It probably wasn’t a good idea to tell a gangster to surprise you.
Knuckles reappeared carrying two glasses. The tumbler contained an amber-coloured liquid served on the rocks, the other, a balloon glass held a vibrant purple drink garnished with a sprig of lavender and a twist of lime peel.
‘Parma violet gin and elderflower tonic,’ Knuckle said as he handed me the glass. He had given Tom Cruise a run for his money with his bartending skills.
‘Thank you.’
I reached forward and took the glass from him. If it tasted half as nice as it smelt I was in for a treat, I thought as I lifted the fishbowl-like glass to my lips. When I inhaled the sweet aroma, it momentarily took me back to my childhood. As I swallowed a sip of the floral-flavoured liquid, something crossed my mind. If Jethro was a gin aficionado, why was he drinking a dark spirit?
‘Take a seat, Gemma,’ Jethro said.
Putting my glass down on a side table, I cautiously lowered myself into the luxurious armchair closest to the fire and hoped my knees wouldn’t begin to shake now that my full weight wasn’t resting on them.
Luca had been asleep since our ordeal began, but now he was starting to stir. When he began to cry, I lifted him out of his car seat and put him up on my shoulder, rubbing his back to see if I could soothe him, but I knew it wasn’t going to work – my son was hungry. I wished I hadn’t accepted a drink now. But thankfully, I’d only had one mouthful.
‘I need to feed him,’ I said when Luca’s crying intensified.
I began pacing backwards and forwards across the room to try and pacify my baby while I thought about how to deal with my predicament. Breastfeeding in public had always been a contentious topic for me, and I had no desire to strip off in front of everybody.
‘Take Gemma up to one of the guest bedrooms so that she can have some privacy,’ Jethro said. Thankfully he must have realised without me having to say anything.
I bent down and picked up Luca’s changing bag. After slipping it over my free shoulder, I followed Knuckles out of the room and across the marble floor of the hallway. Holding on to the polished rail with one hand, I climbed the grand sweeping staircase that curved back around on itself. Knuckles’ huge frame padded along the pale-grey-carpeted corridor before he opened a door and stepped into a vast bedroom with a dressing room and en-suite bathroom. Against the far wall was an enormous circular bed covered in lilac silk bedding and scatter cushions in complementary shades. To the side of this, double doors opened out onto a spacious terrace that overlooked the beautiful gardens. Opposite the bed was a large window seat, positioned to make the best of the dual aspect view.
Once Knuckles had left the room, I moved a plump feather cushion into the corner of the seat. Leaning back against it, I made myself comfortable so that I could feed my son.
I was reluctant to go back downstairs after Luca finished feeding, but I knew if I didn’t, it was only a matter of time before Jethro came and found me.
When I stepped back into the living room, I was surprised to find nobody was there. With my son in my arms, I wandered into the bar area to have a look around. There were so many unusual bottles housed in optics and displayed on glass shelves. I was mesmerised by them. Jethro clearly liked the finer things in life. His collection contained spirits I’d never seen before, let alone tasted.
‘Hello, Gemma.’
I jumped. The familiar voice, which came from behind me, startled me. I hadn’t noticed anybody when I’d walked into the room. Turning on my heel, I struggled to keep my composure when I saw Alfie sitting in a winged chair in the far corner. This was my worst nightmare. What the hell was he doing here? He was meant to be in prison. My heart began pounding as my fingers instinctively tightened around my son, dozing contentedly on my shoulder. While we stared at each other, neither of us moved a muscle. Now it was all starting to make sense; the drink Knuckles had poured earlier wasn’t for Jethro, it was for his son.
15
Alfie
People measured success in a variety of ways. If you counted money and power as status symbols, I considered myself a high achiever. But if the importance of your life depended on you having a deep and meaningful relationship, I would be at the bottom of the pile. I’d always maintained that money could buy anything, but I was well aware it couldn’t buy love. Not the kind of love that Gemma and Nathan shared.
I’d reached a point in my life where I wanted a loving partner by my side. Not one who was after my money, but somebody who was genuinely interested in me. The problem was there was only one woman I wanted as the future Mrs Watson. She was a tall, slim brunette with beautiful green eyes. I’d never known attraction like it before. My feelings hadn’t changed towards Gemma in t
he time we’d been apart. If anything, they’d intensified. Absence does make the heart grow fonder. She meant the world to me. I was besotted with her. Loving her came naturally to me; it was as involuntary as breathing.
I wished Gemma loved me the way I loved her. I knew the feeling wasn’t mutual; Gemma didn’t give a shit about me. I meant nothing to her, and that was hard for me to come to terms with. To save myself from needless heartache, I should accept that nothing more would happen between us and let her go. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do that.
Our paths had crossed again, so I was going to make sure I kept her close. Right now, Gemma was scared of me. I saw the fear in her eyes when she looked at me. I wasn’t proud of that. But I could be charming when I wanted to be, and if I didn’t try to rush things, Gemma would come to realise she’d be much better off with me than the loser she was currently married to. The problem was, the two of them looked happier than ever. I’d have to make sure I did something about that.
16
Nathan
Several hours had passed before I realised Gemma hadn’t returned from the supermarket. I checked the time on my watch before I looked out the front window. Noticing that our Jeep was parked outside with the back passenger door open, I went outside to help her with the shopping. As I approached the car, I could see she wasn’t there. When I looked inside, I noticed Luca’s carrycot was missing. Slamming the door closed, I rushed back to the house.
‘Gemma and Luca have gone,’ I shouted as I burst through the front door.
Dad put his newspaper down on the kitchen table and came out into the hall. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The car’s outside, but there’s no sign of either of them. By the looks of it, Gemma never made it to the supermarket.’ I began chewing the side of my nail before pulling my mobile out of the back pocket of my jeans. After locating Gemma’s number, I hit dial. The phone began to ring, and when it finally connected to her voicemail, I left a message. ‘Gemma, where are you? Phone me back as soon as you get this message.’
Dad and I stood in the hallway staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Every second was like a minute as time ticked by so slowly. ‘I feel completely helpless.’
‘Try not to worry. I’m sure everything’s all right.’
Dad offered some words of reassurance in an attempt to ease my suffering, but they provided little comfort. I dialled Gemma’s number again, and it connected to her voicemail. ‘Please phone me as soon as you can.’ I tried to keep the worry out of my voice, but it was impossible to disguise. My distress was palpable.
‘This doesn’t make any sense. Why would Gemma take off without telling you where she was going? I wish I could suggest something, but for the life of me, I can’t figure it out,’ Dad said.
I knew Gemma was emotionally unstable at the moment and was struggling to get out of the dark place she was trapped in. Would that make her act so unpredictably? Unless there was another explanation. A sense of dread engulfed me. ‘I bet Jethro Watson’s taken them.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘I don’t know, but Gemma was worried about it. I shouldn’t have been so quick to reject the idea. She was convinced she’d seen him the other day when she came back from visiting Mum. But I thought she’d just imagined it.’
‘I find it hard to believe that Gemma could have bumped into Jethro around here.’ Dad tilted his head to the side and studied my face.
‘I didn’t believe it either. Gemma hasn’t been herself recently. She’s finding the demands of motherhood overwhelming and has been paranoid that somebody’s watching her,’ I offered by way of explanation before I cast my eyes to the floor. I was embarrassed that I hadn’t taken my wife’s concerns more seriously. Her anxious behaviour was so out of character for her. She was normally so strong. ‘But if Gemma was right, Jethro was outside your house.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’ Dad stared at me as concern filled his blue eyes.
I let out a long breath and forced my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. ‘I didn’t think it was important. She spends so much energy worrying about anything and everything that sometimes for my own sanity, I have to switch off from it.’ That sounded terrible because I loved my wife more than anything.
Dad ran his fingers over his grey beard. ‘Jethro wouldn’t normally show his face around this area, so if he’s turned up out of the blue, it is a bit suspicious, I have to admit.’
I clasped my hands behind my head. ‘What am I going to do? They could be anywhere by now. This is all my fault. I wish I’d listened to her.’
‘It’s not your fault, so don’t beat yourself up about it. Try not to worry. We’ll find them.’ Dad attempted to reassure me, but as he looked into my troubled eyes, I knew what he was thinking. If Jethro had taken my wife and son, their lives could be in danger.
17
Gemma
The last time I’d heard Alfie’s voice was when he’d given the order to torch the Lady Nora. He knew Nathan and I were trapped on the yacht. At the time I’d thought we were going to be burned alive. The flashback seemed so real; my heart began pounding inside my chest, and for a moment, I was sure I could hear the crackle of the fire and smell the thick acrid smoke that had filled the air around us. It was suffocating. The trauma had caused me such emotional distress that it made it hard to resume my everyday life. I’d been psychologically scarred by the experience and had relived it vividly on a daily basis for months. Even now, the anxiety the event left me with made me question whether I’d ever feel safe again. I had been to the darkest place on many occasions, and I didn’t want to go back there again.
The next few moments passed by in slow motion. Alfie sat in front of me dressed in a smart grey suit, sipping Jack Daniel’s with a smug smile on his face while my world began crashing in on me. I couldn’t think straight; my head was spinning, and I felt disorientated as a million thoughts bombarded my brain.
All the effort we had made to stay under the radar had been for nothing. I should have realised Alfie couldn’t be trusted, and the fact that he’d given me his word that he wouldn’t come after us didn’t mean anything.
The sense of impending doom had been looming over me like a dark shadow for months now. I would lie awake at night, watching Luca sleep, worried that if I closed my eyes for a second, he might choke or die of sudden infant death syndrome. You name it, I imagined it. I was scared that everything and anything might put my son in danger. The thought of somebody coming into my room in the middle of the night and taking Luca away from me was a constant fear.
Nathan was convinced I was being paranoid when I’d told him I was worried that somebody was going to harm or steal our baby. Why was I being so irrational? Surely that wasn’t normal. My husband had put my unease down to the fact that I was sleep-deprived. I’d never experienced tiredness like it. I’d thought I was going insane. But that was before I realised Alfie was a free man.
As I battled to keep my panic within, my lungs tightened. But this wasn’t the time to show weakness; if I did, Alfie would use it against me. I had to be strong for Luca’s sake and put my barriers up. If I didn’t show any emotion, Alfie wouldn’t know what I was thinking, I reasoned. Take a deep breath and stay in control, I told myself.
Alfie was leaning back in the chair with his legs spread wide apart, and as his eyes scanned every inch of me, they lit up. When he smoothed back his blond hair with the palm of his free hand, I caught a glimpse of the holster inside his open jacket. Alfie looked me over as if I was for sale. I clenched my teeth together to stop myself from saying something; it would only make matters worse. The intensity of his blue gaze was unrelenting, and my heartbeat speeded up in response to it. I could see Alfie was enjoying the effect his visual interrogation was having on me.
‘You’re looking well. Short hair suits you. But then again, you’d look good in a paper bag, wouldn’t you, Gemma?’ Alfie said as charismatic vibes radiated from his body.
‘I see you’ve been working on channelling your inner ice queen since I last saw you.’ Alfie’s face broke into a broad smile; he was delighted that he’d made me feel uncomfortable.
I didn’t know how to respond. He was impossible to read. At the moment, Alfie was oozing charm from every pore, but he had a violent temper that he could unleash in the blink of an eye. His unpredictability terrified me, so I couldn’t afford to say the wrong thing. I wasn’t in the habit of backing down, and usually had no trouble speaking my mind. But for once, I decided to keep quiet.
‘It seems like the cat’s got your tongue, Gemma.’ Alfie stood up, walked over to the bar and placed his glass on the counter. ‘And to think you used to be so mouthy. Where’s your feistiness gone? It was one of the things I liked about you.’
‘People change, Alfie,’ I replied, glaring at him.
‘That’s better. I can see a bit of it returning. There’s a look of pure hatred in your pretty green eyes.’
Alfie threw his head back and laughed. He was highly amused by his observation, but I maintained a stony silence as he approached me with a self-assured swagger. The way he dressed and carried himself exuded power and confidence. When Alfie walked into a room, everyone sat up straight and took notice. Alfie grinned then reached across and kissed my cheek. As the smell of his aftershave wafted over me, I turned my face away from him. I wanted to put some distance between us.
Alfie positioned himself so that he was standing right in front of me, then fixed me with his blue eyes. ‘Enough of the pleasantries, let’s get down to business. You have something that belongs to me.’
Tangled Lives Page 5