“Where is your boss?”
Taylor frowned but answered Maksim. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”
“Call him.”
Without hesitation, Taylor took out his phone and did as he was asked. “He’s not answering.”
“Surprise, surprise,” Maksim uttered through clenched teeth. He was like a ticking bomb, the frustration in him building up, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before he exploded. “Any idea where the treacherous cunt may be?”
Taylor reared back, his eyes widening with Maksim’s description of his boss. “Look, mate, I dunno what this is about but don’t come in here threatening…”
Before Taylor had a chance to finish his sentence, Maksim had spun him around and locked his arm around his throat. His gun was pressed so hard into his temple that he’d leave an indentation in his skin. The Bratva moved as one, fluid with their boss. Each gun lifted at lightning speed and was trained on their target before I could take a breath. It was easy to see why the Russian mafia held the respect of so many organised crime units.
“You think that was a threat?” Maksim snarled in Taylor’s ear. “Then you’ll love this. Frank has my daughter, and I class that as not only disrespectful to me but fatal to him. When all this shit is over, and I have fed every single piece of Frank Johns to Sheba, my beloved Bengal, I will be personally taking control of my daughter’s business. And, believe me, Frank Johns is a pussycat compared to me. So, if I were you, I’d think long and hard about how much you cooperate with me at this precise moment.”
Taylor visibly shook with rage, but he appeared to have common sense when he nodded. “I don’t know where he is, but I have a shit ton of respect for Ness. My loyalty lies with the head of my firm, and that would be your daughter. So, if you care to let me go, I will cooperate in any way I can to help you find him.”
Maksim nodded, releasing Taylor. “Then I suggest you start thinking of any place he would hide out because I am becoming impatient. And a bored Bratva Pakhan can be very precarious.” Looking around the room, he tutted. “It looks like you have just redecorated. We wouldn’t want to spoil the paintwork, now, would we?”
If I wouldn’t have looked a pussy, I would have fallen to my knees in front of Maksim Alexeev right there and then.
Day 20
21:31
Nessa
“Here.” Frank held out a bottle of water and two pills. “Don’t panic, they’re just paracetamol. The stuff I injected into you will give you a killer headache.”
I was more grateful for the water. My mouth was so dry I was sure even a river couldn’t quench my thirst.
“So, what now?” I asked after I had downed the entire bottle.
On waking a little while ago, I had been more surprised to find Frank hadn’t tied me to anything than I had been of our surroundings.
With a long sigh, Frank crossed his arms over his chest and sat back. “Seems as though you ruined everything, I’m not sure.”
“You’re telling me the Game Master never had a plan b?”
“I didn’t think I would need one. It has taken me almost four years to bring The Game into fruition, and I was confident it would all run effortlessly. Of course, I should have banked on you being the bitch that you are and mess everything up.”
“Not sure this mess is on me, but whatever helps you sleep at night.”
His spittle sprayed my face when he dived out of his chair and thrust his face into mine. “Be very careful, Nessa. I am struggling to contain my rage at your stupidity as it is. Fair warning, you wouldn’t want to unleash my wrath.”
I had been right all along, he had crossed over the line between genius and crazy. In fact, he had leapt over it. He was insane.
“Is it supposed to be your idea of a joke bringing me here?” I asked, ignoring his warning and glancing around the room with a heavy heart.
Shrugging, he chuckled. “Take it how you want, Missy?”
Every word that left his mouth maddened me more than the last, and I forced myself to relax when I felt my jaw clench. “And still you call me that stupid name.”
Quirking an eyebrow at my tone, he tipped his head sideways and gave me a long stare. “As you know it always amused me how you could call yourself Miss when you were married to Denny.”
“You know the exact reason why.”
He watched me as he took a drink from his own bottle of water. Then wiping his hand across his wet lips, he scowled at me. “Denny was ruled by you. If you were mine, I would have put a stop to your bullshit a long time ago.”
“And that’s why I always loved Denny, and not you. He was considerate of what I wanted. He loved me enough to respect my wishes.” Boldly, I reached out and took his packet of cigarettes from the table. “No wonder there wasn’t a woman stupid enough to marry you.”
Shooting out of the chair, he reared his arm back to punch me. Except for this time, I was ready for him, even if I was a little slower than usual. His eyes widened when I caught his wrist in my hand and held him back. “No more, Frank. Tell me you’re not that far into crazy that you think you can take me on?”
Shock made him flinch before rage seeped into every line on his face. “Be very careful, Nessa!”
“Or what?” I’d had enough. I bolted upright to finish this stupid game of his. My legs gave way under me, and I fell to a heap on the floor.
Frank smirked down at me. “I told you to be careful. Always were stubborn. You may find that your body hasn’t quite adjusted to the effects of the shit that’s still racing around your blood system.”
“You’re a fucking coward.”
“That’s as may be,” he sniggered as he picked up a syringe from the countertop behind him. “But I’m not a fool.”
I didn’t have the strength to fight him off, and I could do nothing more than allow him to pump me full of whatever toxin he kept me weakened with. However, I welcomed the peace once more when the world tipped sideways, and I gave in to it.
Day 21
10:12
Caelan
Iosif, Maksim’s second in command, was scarier than Maksim himself. For over an hour he hadn’t moved his piercing blue eyes away from me. It felt like I was being laser-eyed by Superman, the fiery red beams of destruction probing my brain and reading every thought in my head. Unsure whether he was telepathic or not, but going with the odds that he was, I refrained from making eye contact as much as I could.
“Why you?” he suddenly asked me with a voice that could have been affiliated with The Hulk.
Everyone appeared as unprepared for Iosif to speak as much as me. Silence fell around my kitchen, and every eye belonging to the Bratva turned on me, scrutinising me as they waited for my answer.
“Sorry?” I replied, nonplussed. “Why me what?”
When he clarified his question, the room seemed to shrink as the five bulks of Bratva men and Taylor Williamson gave me their full attention. “Why did the Game Master pick you along with Vanessa?”
Ah, shit!
“I suppose he thought it was funny, me being a copper.”
“Bullshit!” Iosif barked, making me jump slightly. “He is meticulous. There was reasoning for his choice of you.”
Maksim regarded me keenly, his eyes as probing as the other men. “Caelan, Vanessa speaks very highly of you. Whoever you are, or whatever your career choice, does not matter here. But, you seem to be as important to the Game Master as Vanessa is. And if that is the case, then there may be something we’re missing.”
“Maksim…”
“I am not here to judge, Caelan. I am here to find my daughter!”
“I understand that.” Blowing out a long breath, I swallowed the lump in my throat and broke the news that I knew would break my legs. “It was me who killed Denny Barnes.”
Surprisingly, it was Iosif who saved me this time. He was out of his chair and pulling Maksim away from me before he had a chance to strangle me.
“I take it Nessa didn’t tell you
then?”
Maksim glared at me before looking to visibly calm down. Shaking out of Iosif’s hold, he clicked his tongue. “She told me about your brother. Do you think this makes you even with her?”
“No,” I stated honestly. “Although I now know it wasn’t Nessa who killed him. Frank has been planning this a long time, and I think it started with Noah’s murder.”
Maksim scoffed. “Oh, I have no doubt the dirty motherfucker had been planning this since he first stepped foot inside my sons-in-law’s house…”
“Son-in-law’s house,” I repeated, his words prompting an idea. “Of, course.”
All attention turned to me when I shot upright and grabbed my coat.
“What am I missing?” Maksim asked, catching my sudden excitement. “What are you thinking?”
“Nessa has always lived in the apartment Denny purchased for her, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is there no record of sale for Denny’s old house? Why are the deeds currently still in Denny’s name? I presumed Nessa wanted to keep it, sentimental value.”
Taylor Williamson stepped closer to me. “Ness has never stepped foot inside since Denny’s death,” he divulged. “I remember discussing the property a while ago with Frank. He said he would sort it.”
“Dirty motherfucker indeed,” Maksim growled, snatching his own coat from the back of his chair. Turning to Iosif, he said. “Tool up, but I give order that this bastard is mine. I put an end to his stupid game, once and for all.”
Iosif gave a simple nod and turned to the other men. “You heard him.”
“No!” All heads spun my way, but I held firm. “I killed Denny because I thought he murdered my brother. Frank Johns is mine. I owe Noah his retribution.”
The air around me stilled when every man held their breath and looked to Maksim. It occurred to me that no one had ever had the gall to object to Maksim Alexeev before.
However, life was full of little moments.
Maksim drew a long breath and nodded. “Your vengeance is yours. I can respect that. But I agree on the terms that Vanessa gets her hour with him first.”
A tad baffled, I agreed. “That’s fine, but I’m not really sure what Ness…”
Maksim chuckled and patted me on the shoulder. “My dear, Caelan. You have no idea about my daughter, do you?”
I took the question as hypothetical because he didn’t wait for my answer.
“Let’s go hunt a cunt!” Maksim bellowed as The Bratva and the MET, for the first time ever, merged as one, and went to battle.
Day 21
12:21
Nessa
Sounds were vague, and my eyes were too heavy to open, but my awareness of smell appeared to be hypersensitive. I could smell sweat and leather, metal and gunpowder, and, grossly, stagnant chip fat. My senses were overrun with my father’s aftershave, and the distinct scent of Caelan’s washing detergent made my nose twitch.
“Vanessa!” My father’s voice.
I tried to reply but my mouth wasn’t coordinated with the ability to speak, and shamefully all I achieved when I parted my lips was to free some drool.
“What the fuck has he pumped her full of?” Caelan’s angry voice was a little hazy, and my brain struggled to translate each word.
I felt my body being lifted, and I could do nothing more than flop like a limp doll in Papa’s arms.
“It is okay, my matryoshka. It is okay. I have you.”
Only able to manage a grunt, I grew frustrated. I needed to warn them about Frank. They needed to know he was the Game Master. Frank was furious because I had stepped onto the end square before him, and I knew he would stop at nothing to crush anyone that stood in the way of his absurd reasoning that the firm belonged to him.
Except, instead of telling them all that, I passed out yet again.
16:04
It felt like a sledgehammer had hit me right in the back of my skull. Groaning with the agony, I brought my shaky hands up to my temples and pressed hard.
“Open your mouth, Vanessa. Papa will make it all better, darling.”
Memories of when I was eight ran around my mind, of when I had caught chicken pox, and I’d had a severe reaction to them. I had been hospitalised for five days, but I was still so ill when I was discharged that my father had hand fed me until I was back to full health.
Feeling slightly more sentient than before, I was able to open my mouth myself. I felt him slip a pill onto my tongue and held the back of my head while he pressed a glass of water to my lips.
My eyes were still too sore to open, which was fine because I knew the light would crucify my retinas.
“Sleep, matryoshka. I will be here when you wake. I promise you.”
I didn’t argue with him. I slipped in and out of the realms of many nightmares over the course of the next two days, and each time I woke, my father was by my side, as promised.
Day 23
11:42
“Well look who finally decided to drag her princess perfumed ass out of bed!”
The beam that split my face was wider than any smile I’d had worn for a very long time when I walked into my kitchen and was greeted by Iosif’s usual sarcasm.
“Iosif!” I hugged him tight when he pulled me into his strong arms. “When did you get here?”
“When I found out you haven’t changed a bit and are still getting yourself into some scrape or another, little girl.” He grinned broadly as he held me back and looked over me. “Although you are no longer a little girl!”
“It’s good to see you!”
“And you, princess.” Iosif was one of the most formidable men I had ever known, but to me, he was like my big brother. He hadn’t given me any special treatment as a child, and he’d been the one to persuade my father that I should learn to fight at a young age. He knew that being a Bratva princess could be a perilous position to be in. I wouldn’t always have my father and his men to guard me, and there would come a time when I would have to fight for myself. He had been damn right.
“Vanessa!” My father strode in and had a smile as big as Iosif when he spotted me. “It’s so good to see my daughter’s pretty smile once again.”
Iosif stuck two fingers in his mouth and pretended to retch when Papa dragged me into his firm hold. Flipping him the bird behind my father’s back, he winked and drank down his coffee.
“Frank?” I asked Papa when he finally let me go.
Shaking his head, he narrowed his eyes into a scowl. “He was not in the house.”
“Damn!”
Papa sat and patted the seat beside him. “How are you feeling? Back to your usual self?” he asked when I poured myself a coffee and sat down.
Doing a mental check of myself, I nodded. “Still a little weak, but I’m okay. What the hell was that shit he filled me with?”
Papa and Iosif shared a look, but my father just shook his head. “Have you any thoughts as to where Frank could be?”
When I clicked my tongue and looked away, Papa pressed me. “Vanessa?”
“No,” I lied. “No clue.”
Narrowing his eyes on me, suspect of my answer, he let it drop and stood up. “I have some business to attend to. Caelan is running a few errands and will be back shortly. Will you be okay?”
I quirked an eyebrow at him, giving him my silent reply. Chuckling, he nodded and kissed the top of my head. “Always too big for your boots, matryoshka. That suki managed to get one over on you before.” Suki. I hadn’t heard the Russian phrase for a traitor for a long time, and once again it hit me who I really was. I was Russian, and the Bratva ran in my veins, as much as I had tried to bleed them from me.
Winking, I blew my father a kiss. “Once, Papa. Never again. This time I’m ready for him.”
“I have no doubt you are.”
Waiting until they had all left and I knew I had the house to myself, I took my notepad from the dresser and turned to the page where I had listed the locations of each game.
&nbs
p; Lawrence’s Bar
Trinity House
Yew Tree Cemetery
The Royal Hospital
Warwick Avenue
Brackley Wood
Each of the locations had some specific association to Denny or me. Apart from the hospital and Brackley Wood. I suspected Warwick Avenue was just where Frank had hidden Noah’s file, and I could only assume the hospital was chosen because of its ideal setting for the first two games.
So that left Brackley Wood.
Circling it, I tapped the pen over it and tried to establish a connection. I couldn’t. So why there?
Pulling in a long breath, I made my way upstairs.
Walking into the spare room, a shiver made its way through my body. It had been so long since I had been in here that it felt unfamiliar as much as it did daunting. I had sworn to myself that I would never again move the large chest that sat in the corner of the room. I had made a vow that I wouldn’t ever lift the edge of the carpet. I had pledged silently that the box hidden under the floor would never again see the light of day.
However, today was a day for broken promises.
It was also judgement day.
For Frank.
And for me.
Day 23
14:09
“I did wonder if you would figure it out.”
It had taken me a while to find the small outbuilding where Jenny had been held, but as soon as I stepped foot inside and saw the dead bodies of my mother, Stuart, and Debbie, I knew precisely why this spot was significant to The Game.
It was the Game Master’s headquarters.
The walls were covered with plans, pictures, ideas, and plots. Each game was documented to paper and then pinned to the brick walls. Building blueprints, photographs of each location, scribbled riddles, even detailed specifics of my families lives. It was all emblazoned across the walls like it was merely wallpaper. Four years of forming something so vile and cruel was, in the end, just paper and ink. And I was ready to destroy every single fucking bit of it.
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