Kyle nodded and got up from the chair, like a man defeated.
He followed Dennis Watkins to the front door, unsure what else he could do now.
‘And tell that girlfriend of yours that whatever her beef is with Nancy, I hope tonight was worth it. She’s started a shit storm for you now, lad! So I hope she was worth it ’an all.’
Slamming the front door, Dennis Watkins leant up against it, and closed his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, he knew that there would be repercussions for tonight’s actions, without a doubt, and Louis was right: there was no way that they were going to allow the kid to pull them down into the shit alongside him.
Not when those mad bastard Byrnes were involved.
Kyle Boyd was well and truly on his own now.
Eleven
‘You did fucking what?’ Jess Green sat up in the bed and glared across the room incredulously to where her boyfriend stood lingering in the bedroom doorway.
Unable to believe what he’d just told her.
Though the culpable expression on his face confirmed that he was telling her the truth. That and the fact that he was standing there awkwardly, like a scolded child, about to be told off.
Jess glanced over to the clock on the bedside cabinet. It was almost five thirty now.
She must have fallen asleep.
She’d waited up most of the night for him to come home; only he hadn’t and now she knew why.
‘You’re a fucking moron, do you know that, Kyle!’ she said then, taking in the sight of his red puffy eyes from where he’d clearly been crying. The dry congealed blood at the end of his crooked-looking nose. His clothes, too, covered in blood. Only it wasn’t his blood, was it? Well at least not all of it. Not if what he was saying was true and the stupid fucker had only gone and stabbed someone. ‘Jesus, Kyle. Look at the state of you!’
Shaking her head in disgust, as she swung her legs out of the bed, wrapping her dressing gown tightly around her before stomping past Kyle Boyd and out of the room.
‘I think I’ve broken my nose?’ he said, following her down the stairs, hoping for at least a tiny bit of understanding.
Though the pissed-off expression on his girlfriend’s face was more than enough to confirm what he already knew. He’d be getting zero sympathy from Jess any time soon.
She looked furious, and she hadn’t even heard the worst of it yet.
‘A broken nose is the least of your worries right now. Let me tell you…’ Jess said with a snarl, making her way into the kitchen and switching the kettle on. She reached for her pack of cigarettes then, lighting one up and taking a deep drag, before pointing it towards Kyle.
‘Can’t you do anything right? Anything without causing some kind of drama? Do you know how much shit you’ll be in now that you stabbed one of Nancy Byrne’s girls, do you? That cow is a heartless bitch. Trust me, I know that from experience! She’ll do her nut over this.’
Kyle Boyd looked as if he was going to cry again.
Nervously moving from one foot to another. Anxious now, at Jess’s words. He knew that she wasn’t just saying any of this to shut him up. He was in trouble. Big trouble.
Somehow in just one night, he’d managed to single-handedly piss everyone off around him. Nancy Byrne. Dennis. Now Jess.
Feeling thoroughly sorry for himself then, he wiped his nose as he felt a trickle of blood start to trail down his skin once more.
‘It won’t stop bleeding,’ he said, his eyes pleading with Jess to have some sympathy towards him.
Though the only thing Jess gave him was a tea towel.
Grabbing it from next to the sink, she tossed it to him, hitting him straight in the face with it.
‘You’re getting blood all over the floor!’ she said, with irritation, before turning her back on him and making herself a strong coffee. Not bothering to offer Kyle one. He could sod off if he thought he was getting anything from her, ever again.
‘Where have you put the money?’ Jess asked then, expectantly, glancing around for the bag of cash that he’d told her about on the phone last night.
Ten grand at least, he’d told her when he’d rang her to tell her what sort of a house he’d been working in.
Ten grand, just lying around on top of a cabinet in one of the rooms.
‘That’s how much money these people have,’ he’d said, trying to impress her.
‘Too fucking much. I tell you, you want to see the place, Jess. It’s like a palace. You’d love it. A huge townhouse in Mayfair, with a fancy looking swimming pool and expensive gym gear all set up in the basement. I don’t think much of the woman who owns it. Right flash cow she is, properly loves herself. Dennis said she’s the daughter of some has-been gangster. Jimmy Byrne? You heard of him? Dead now apparently. Murdered. You should see this Nancy bird, proper rates herself…’
‘You’re working in Nancy Byrne’s house?’ Jess had said, her ears pricking up at Kyle’s words, suddenly very interested in the conversation.
‘Yeah. You know her?’ Kyle said, realising that this Nancy was the same Nancy that Jess was forever harping on about.
The infamous Nancy from Jess’s past that had royally screwed the girl over.
Kyle didn’t have a clue what the bird had done to Jess, as Jess refused to talk about it, but whatever it was it was bad enough for Jess to be obsessed with the woman.
And the fact that he’d managed to gain access to Nancy Byrne’s house, to her money, had been like adding fuel to Jess’s raging fire.
That’s when Jess told Kyle that he needed to take the money.
That Nancy Byrne owed her big time.
She insisted that he didn’t swipe the money before he left, as Nancy and her lot would work out that it was him before he even made it to the front gates. Jess had it all planned out in record time. Kyle needed to go back there tonight, and take the lot. That there was probably other money lying around too. He needed to do this job, alone. Without Dennis or Louis. Just him, so that Jess and Kyle could pocket the lot.
‘You did get it, didn’t you?’ she said then, her stare burning through him.
‘I did, but then Nancy turned up and, after she broke my nose, she took it back,’ he said, looking down at the floor. Knowing full well that Jess would lose her shit at that.
He cursed himself for leaving empty-handed.
The money would have softened the blow. It would have made his fuck-up tonight worth it.
Instead he’d come home with fuck all to show for himself yet again.
A prize prick, just as Jess always called him.
‘The woman’s a flaming nutcase, Jess. She took one look at the Irish bird sprawled out on the floor and just lost it. I’m lucky I got away at all. She went crazy. Smashing plants over my head, the lot.’
‘An Irish bird?’ Jess pursed her mouth. Wondering if the woman was Bridget Williams. What would be the chances of that?
After all these years. She was probably still there. Working side by side with Nancy, her head so far up the woman’s arse that she could no longer see daylight.
‘Do you think you killed her?’ Jess asked, part of her hoping that he had. That would have been something.
‘I don’t know. Oh God, Jess. I really don’t know. She wasn’t moving. She was just lying there.’ Kyle lost it then.
He’d been desperately trying to hold himself together, not to cry in front of Jess. But he just couldn’t help himself.
‘Shit, Jess. I didn’t even realise what had happened until I saw the knife sticking out of her side. She’d just launched herself at me. The next thing I knew she was on the floor. I barely even touched her, I swear to God.’
Kyle sank to the floor then, unable to bear the guilt of what he’d done tonight.
Stabbing a woman.
‘What if she’s dead? They’ll do me for murder. I’ll do a life stretch for that.’
‘Chance would be a fucking fine thing,’ Jess sneered under her breath.
‘Denn
is and Louis lost their shit with me too. I’m out, Jess. They don’t want to be associated with me now. I’ve lost my job, too, on top of everything else.’ He mumbled something under his breath then.
Only, Jess caught the tail end of it.
‘You what?’ she said, getting riled now. ‘Say it again.’
‘I said, that it’s not just my fault.’ Kyle repeated himself. Feeling more desperate than brave. He just wanted Jess to be a bit more understanding. This was her fault too.
She’d told him to do the job.
This wasn’t just down to him.
‘You told me to take the money. You said that she fucking owes you? That this was your way of getting back at her? For what?’ He was eyeing her then with a pleading look in his eyes. Begging her to let him in, to tell him what this was all about. What he’d risked everything for.
Jess just shook her head. Turning her back on the man, she stirred her mug of coffee. Drinking back the scalding hot liquid so that she wouldn’t have to talk.
‘I would never have gone back there on my own like that. You told me to do it,’ Kyle said, quietly then.
‘Oh, come on, Kyle. You’re a grown man. I’m sure you can make decisions for yourself. You’ve got a brain in there somewhere, haven’t you?’
Kyle crouched down on the floor. Dizzy, body feeling weak at the sudden realisation that he was really on his own now. That this all came back to him.
No matter what Jess had told him to do, he’d done it. Him.
He’d be the one taking the fall for his actions tonight too.
‘I need to lay low for a while, Jess, just until the heat’s off,’ he said, the panic evident in his voice.
‘Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. You should go back to your mum.’ Jess nodded in agreement. Finally something they both agreed on. ‘I don’t want you here.’
Unable to stomach the sight of the feeble, weak man before her.
Kyle looked up at her questioningly. Seeing the cold hard expression on her face; she was telling him, not asking him, to leave.
So he did what he always did when Jess dished out the orders. He did as he was told.
Going back upstairs to the bedroom and throwing some of his clothes into a holdall, he came back a few minutes later, hoping that Jess would change her mind. That she was just angry with him, that this would all blow over. Only she seemed even more resolute than ever.
‘I mean it, Kyle. I want some space. I can’t do this with you anymore.’ Sitting down at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around her coffee mug. Glaring at him, as if he’d done everything tonight purposely, purely to piss her off.
‘I’ll see you then,’ he said, his voice full of regret. Hoping that maybe in a few days’ time, when she’d calmed down, she’d realise that she’d made a mistake.
Closing the door behind him as he exited the house, he left Jess alone with her thoughts.
She drank down the rest of her coffee. Cold now. Deciding that it was too early in the morning to have a joint or a glass of wine, she lit up another cigarette instead and hoped that the caffeine she’d just consumed would be enough to settle her nerves.
The angst building inside her at just the thought of that bitch, Nancy Byrne.
Somehow that woman always got off scot free.
Always managing to somehow dodge the bloodshed and chaos all around her.
Jess’s hands shook: the memory of that harrowing night a few years ago flooding back to her now. Wincing, she tried to block all thoughts of what happened to her out of her head.
Of course, she couldn’t though. It was always there.
Haunting her. Taunting her. Lurking just beneath the surface. Always there just willing and waiting to raise its ugly head and torment her.
The money tonight had meant nothing to Jess, not really. It wasn’t about that.
This was about revenge.
Revenge on Nancy.
Jess had a score to settle with the woman, and tonight had been the first opportunity she’d had at finally getting close to the woman.
Only Kyle had fucked it all up. Proving himself just as useless as always.
Even if he had stolen the money, it wasn’t enough. Not really.
Nancy wouldn’t miss a wad of cash going missing; she had that in abundance by the sounds of it.
And stealing Nancy’s money nowhere near matched the pain and hurt that Jess had suffered in Nancy Byrne’s hands.
That bitch needed a much more brutal lesson bestowed upon her.
Jess closed her eyes then, hoping that somehow it would help her block out the pain. The images and memories that were running through her mind would taunt her all day.
That’s what happened.
Once she let Nancy Byrne back in.
Kyle may have fucked everything up last night, but one thing he had managed to do was show Jess that it was possible to get close to the woman. That there were ways.
Maybe now was the time to exact her revenge on Nancy once and for all, for everything she’d done to her. For everything she’d made her suffer.
Only there would be no room for any more fuck-ups. Jess was going to dish out her revenge personally next time.
And that bitch was going to pay, if it was the last thing she ever did.
Jess would make sure of that.
Twelve
Standing at the foot of the hospital bed, Nancy Byrne was doing all she could to hold back her tears.
Last night had been a living nightmare and, for a moment there, seeing her friend on the floor like that, hurt, she’d been convinced that Bridget was dead. That the bastard who’d broken in had murdered her.
Just the thought of not seeing the woman, or speaking to her ever again, had terrified Nancy.
‘Please tell me that you didn’t stay here all night?’ Bridget said, stirring from her restless sleep, her face breaking out into a smile as she saw Nancy looking down at her.
Wincing as she pulled herself slowly up and sat back against her pillows.
‘Jesus, Bridge. You look bloody awful,’ Nancy said ignoring her friend’s question, too busy taking in Bridget’s sickly pale complexion. Her eyes puffy and yellow.
Placing the fancy box of chocolates she’d bought her friend down on the table beside them, she eyed the drip that led from Bridget’s arm. Assessing the situation.
‘Oh, well that’s charming, isn’t it? I hope you’re not making a dig about this beautiful negligee that the nurse put me in. Tell you what, we should bring a couple of these back with us, the punters would love them. They tie up at the back, but somehow manage to still flash everything you have. Trust me when I tell you that I know that from experience. I’ve had the pleasure of old droopy arse over there, bending over and showing me what she’s had for dinner last night every time she bends down to put her slippers on,’ Bridget said nodding over to the elderly woman in the cubicle opposite her, not caring that the elderly woman was glaring her way, listening in to their conversation.
‘I can bloody well hear you, you know,’ the woman snarled across the ward. Tapping at her hearing aid.
‘Good!’ Bridget replied. ‘Well, why don’t you take the hint then huh? Maybe next time you need to put your slippers on, you could face the other way then, so I don’t have to stare at your hairy arse crack.’
‘I’m switching you off. Had enough of listening to you bloody moaning, I have.’
Clearly annoyed, the older woman twiddled with her hearing aid, before flipping Bridget her middle finger. Then turning onto her side in a strop, she carried on reading her book.
‘Bridge!’ Nancy laughed then. Glad that her friend was just as feisty and gobby as normal. The doctors had said as much, only this was all the sign that Nancy needed to believe that Bridget was really okay. ‘You’re clearly not as bad as you look then…’
‘I’m fine,’ Bridget said, shaking her head. ‘To be honest, I’m more embarrassed than anything else. I really thought I was a goner, Nancy. Imagine how m
ortified I was when they told me that the knife had only nicked my skin. That it was only a flesh wound. Trust me to bloody faint. I can’t even handle a nosebleed… Anyway, you can talk about me looking awful. You don’t look so shit hot yourself.’ Bridget grinned. She meant it too. She might be the one lying in a hospital bed, but Nancy looked terrible.
Huge dark circles under her puffy eyes. Her skin, devoid of her usual face of make-up, dull and sallow.
She looked like a completely different person. The complete opposite of her usual immaculately turned out persona. In the past few years that she’d been working as Bridget’s boss, Bridget couldn’t recall a single time she’d seen Nancy with so much as a strand of hair, or smudge of eyeliner, out of place. Perfect hair, perfect make-up.
‘You look like you haven’t slept a wink all night.’
‘I haven’t,’ Nancy admitted, taking a seat next to her friend then. ‘I was so worried about you, Bridge. We all were. Even when the doctors told us that you were going to be okay, and that I should go home and get some sleep, I didn’t believe them. I kept thinking that the minute I left you, you’d…’ The raw emotion thick in her voice as she spoke honestly.
The lump in her throat, constricting, causing her to be unable to finish her sentence.
She didn’t have to.
They both knew how lucky Bridget had been.
The attack could have been so much worse than it had been.
‘Jack took me home in the end. He insisted that there was no point staying here, that you needed some proper rest. I think by the time I crawled into my bed and finally got some sleep it was almost 6 a.m., and Scarlett woke me up wanting a wee about half an hour after that. Typical huh!’
‘Well, you don’t need to be worrying about me, Nancy.’ Reaching for her cup of water on the tray beside her. ‘Shit!’ Bridget winced. Holding her side that the nurses had placed some dressing over.
‘Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to call the nurse?’
The Forgotten_An absolutely gripping, gritty thriller novel Page 9