Dividing Line

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Dividing Line Page 14

by Heather Atkinson


  “She loves white roses and pink champagne. She's had a bit of a rough day at work so why don't you spoil her?”

  Alex grins, knowing this is Rachel's way of blessing their union. “Thanks for the tip.”

  The moment he’s gone Danny and Rachel wrap themselves around one another.

  “I'm sorry for getting you caught up in all this,” he sighs. “I didn't want you involved.”

  “It's okay. I knew what I was getting into.”

  “He didn't threaten you did he?” says Danny, a shadow descending on his face.

  “No, not at all. In fact he was very polite. He made a lot of sense.”

  A smile plays on his lips. Rachel cannot help but return the smile.

  “What?” she says.

  “Ryan Law's well known for his good looks. What did you think?”

  “He is attractive but I prefer the Maguire men,” she says, pulling him tighter against her.

  He runs his hands down her waist and over her bottom. “Really?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  He kisses her hard and pulls her down with him onto his large leather chair so she is straddling him. Their passion intensifies and he hitches up her skirt. Then the door bursts open and Frank strides in. Rachel and Danny spring apart, Rachel frantically pulling her skirt back down. Frank stops in his tracks and grins.

  “Sorry. Did it again, didn't I?”

  Danny rolls his eyes while Rachel blushes.

  “I'll be out of your hair in a second. I forgot my car keys.”

  Frank picks up the bunch of keys sitting on top of the filing cabinet. “Sorry, I will try to remember to knock next time.”

  Frank leaves, closing the door behind him. Danny tries to lead Rachel back to the chair but she resists.

  “Sorry, the moment's gone. Shall we go downstairs and get a drink?”

  “Thanks Dad,” he mutters as he follows her out the door.

  CHAPTER 13

  Rachel is anxious. It’s the day of the summit meeting between the Maguires and the Laws and Danny left early for his dad’s house. She’s been up cleaning the apartment since six o'clock and there isn't anything left that hasn't been scrubbed within an inch of its life. Once that’s done she gets fed up twiddling her thumbs and decides to stretch her legs, ending up in the local park, the bright sunshine and laughter of children playing doing nothing to disperse the coldness that has settled over her heart. She has such a bad feeling about today.

  As she strolls by the duck pond she spots Ryan Law chatting with a short fat man with a large mole on his left cheek. Ryan looks up, sees her and waves. She stops in her tracks, unsure of whether to walk away or approach him so she makes a compromise and waits for him to come to her, which he does. She feels his eyes appraising her as he approaches and she shuffles awkwardly.

  “Hi Rachel. Out for a walk?” he says pleasantly.

  “I needed to get some air. My nerves are stretched to the limit.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of the meet in half an hour.” She frowns. “Shouldn't you get going? You'll be late.”

  It’s Ryan's turn to frown. “What meet?”

  “The one today at eleven o'clock with Frank and…” She trails off at his puzzled expression. “You don't know anything about it, do you?”

  “I'm afraid not.”

  Anxiety shines in Rachel's eyes and she chews her lower lip. “Someone called Pete Fraser was setting it up.”

  “I'm sorry Rachel, I haven't spoken to Pete or any of his associates since I went inside. It must be a trap,” he says and immediately wishes he’d been more tactful when Rachel yanks her phone out of her handbag and punches in Danny's number.

  “Shit,” she says when it goes straight to voicemail. She tries Frank's phone and gets the same result.

  “Pete will have picked a place where there’ll be no signal,” says Ryan.

  “What do I do?” says Rachel.

  She looks up at him with her large dark eyes and Ryan feels an overwhelming urge to help her but he is torn. He could let things happen, see how they pan out. He would be rid of the Maguires, which in turn would mean there would be no one to stop him taking over their empire. On the other hand whoever is playing them is powerful and with the Maguires gone he would be left to face them alone and with Jamie, Simmy and Adam all dead he'd only have a bunch of work shy retards to back him up. Truth be told, he needs the Maguires.

  “Do you know where the meet is?” he says.

  “No.”

  “I know a friend of Pete's, he might know where it is. Come on, my car‘s not far.”

  She follows him to a brand new Bentley, the gleaming black paintwork amplified in the sunlight.

  “Will this friend be able to tell us where it is?” she says, sick with dread.

  Before Ryan can respond a gang of five hoodies approach them from behind.

  “Nice car mate,” calls the ringleader. “Give us the keys.”

  Ryan freezes and slowly turns to look at the youth, indignation written all over his face. The rest of the gang recognise him and start backing away, tugging at the ringleaders sleeve. Ryan turns back to the car and unlocks it.

  “What's wrong with you lot? He's only one man and a fit bird,” grins the youth, obviously thinking he’s the dog's bollocks.

  “Leave it Spider,” stammers one of the group.

  “You might be a pussy but I'm not,” says Spider, swelling with his own self importance. He pulls a knife from his pocket and waves it at Ryan. “I said give me the fucking keys.”

  Ryan turns on him, eyes blazing. Spider suddenly seems unsure of himself and glances back at his gang, who are all retreating. Before the hoodie even realises what’s happening Ryan knocks him to the ground with one powerful blow. Rachel barely reacts, she’s becoming accustomed to violence.

  “You're lucky I'm in a hurry,” says Ryan. He picks up the large knife the youth dropped. “Thank you. This could come in useful,” he smiles, all politeness before delivering a hard kick to the hoodie’s stomach.

  “Can we go now?” says an impatient Rachel.

  “Of course.”

  Frank, Alex, Danny and Terry are sat in Danny's Mercedes scrutinising the warehouse carefully.

  “I don't like it,” says Danny.

  “I agree,” replies Frank.

  “Me too,” says Alex.

  “Surely Pete wouldn't set us up?” interjects Terry. “He's been a friend of the family for over twenty years.”

  “He's also a businessman. Everyone has a price,” says Frank sagely.

  “But he wouldn't side with the Laws over us, there's no way,” continues Terry in disbelief. “Simmy killed his brother, he hates them.”

  “I don't think it's the Laws,” says Frank, recalling Rachel's words. “Start the engine Danny, we're out of here. Now.”

  Ryan pulls up outside a large detached red brick property on a quiet respectable street. This house belongs to George Emmott, one of Pete Fraser's cronies.

  “You'd better stay here,” he tells Rachel.

  “No way. I'm coming with you.”

  “No you're not. It could be dangerous.”

  “It's my family who's in danger.”

  He can't help but admire her determination. “Alright but stay behind me.”

  They rush up the garden path and Ryan hammers on the door, ignoring the bell. He waits a few seconds and when there’s no answer he pounds on the door even harder.

  It’s opened by a large flabby man with grey hair and stubble, yawning and scratching his substantial belly. His bleary, sleep-hazed eyes widen when he realises Ryan Law is stood on his doorstep. He tries to slam the door shut but Ryan kicks it open and it whacks George in the face, causing him to stumble back into the hall. Ryan enters followed by Rachel, who closes the door behind them. George gets to his feet and tries to run but Ryan kicks him in the ribs, sending him back to the floor. Grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt, Ryan drags him to his feet and throws him against the wall,
pinning him there by his throat, eyes burning with aggression. Rachel is impressed by this show of strength, ashamed of herself when a thrill runs through her body, a thrill only her husband should inspire. Ryan Law certainly deserves his reputation. Ryan doesn't even need to ask George anything, he starts babbling frantically and what he has to say turns Rachel pale. Ryan looks at her, astonishment on his face.

  “Let's go,” says Rachel.

  Ryan nods, dragging George along with him. “You're coming with us,” he snarls at the blubbering man.

  Martina is washing up when the doorbell rings. Tutting in annoyance she walks to the front door, drying her hands on a tea towel. When she opens it the frown is replaced by a smile.

  “Pete, long time no see. How are you?”

  Pete Fraser smiles, revealing two rows of gold teeth. He is a heavy thickset man with dyed black hair and a pencil moustache. Two large lackeys stand behind him looking solemn. “Grand thanks Martina. Is Frank about?”

  “I'm afraid he's out on business. I can't say how long he'll be but you're welcome to come in and wait. We can have a catch up.”

  “That would be lovely. Do you mind if my associates come in too?”

  Martina looks uneasy. If it had been anyone else she would have been wary but she's known Pete Fraser a long time, she can trust him.

  “Course I don't mind,” she smiles and stands aside to allow them to enter.

  Frank et all decide to return to Martina's Club where they can have a drink and talk about their next move in private. As they enter the club Danny's phone bleeps. He takes it out of his jacket pocket and frowns.

  “Nine missed calls from Rachel.”

  “Boy you're whipped,” grins Terry.

  As Danny listens to Rachel's frantic message his face falls.

  “Dad, we've got to get to your house. Now.”

  Martina doesn't understand what's happened. One minute she’s serving Pete and his friends tea and biscuits, the next she’s on the floor with a throbbing head. Pete stands over her brandishing a large machete. Martina's eyes widen and she struggles to sit up but a blinding pain in the back of her skull forces her to lie back down. She fights against the waves of nausea threatening to empty her stomach all over her best carpet.

  “Pete, what are you doing?” she says weakly.

  “I'm sorry Martina, I'm not doing this by choice. They threatened my kids, see?”

  “Who did?”

  “I can't say. I really am sorry.”

  Pete hangs his head. He does look genuinely remorseful for what he is about to do. Martina manages to haul herself up into a sitting position.

  “You dirty little coward. You couldn't do it on you own could you? You had to bring two little friends along. Well when I get to my feet I'll kick all your arses.” She is brave and defiant and Pete can barely bring himself to look at her.

  He crouches beside her and talks softly. “This isn't going to be pleasant Martina. I've got to make an example of you. You will feel a lot of pain.”

  “I hope you can run Pete because Frank will hunt you to the ends of the earth for this.”

  Pete's eyes are full of sorrow. “You'd do the same Martina if it was your boys.”

  Martina doesn’t deny this because she can't.

  Pete tries to haul her to her feet but she starts kicking and screaming. However their house is secluded and there is no one to hear her.

  “This will be over a lot quicker if you cooperate,” pleads Pete as he tries to maintain a grip on her. “Well don't just stand there,” he yells at his two lackeys.

  They both jump to obey and try to grab Martina by the legs but she kicks out at them, making the task impossible.

  They all freeze at the sound of running footsteps and they barely have time to turn as one of the lackeys is felled by two stab wounds to the kidneys in quick succession from Ryan. The second lackey, a powerfully built skinhead with a face like a bulldog, flies at him and the two begin fighting violently.

  Pete in his fright raises the machete over Martina, determined to finish the job but Rachel jams her stun gun into the back of his neck. He drops to the floor and starts twitching and grimacing.

  “Rachel,” cries Martina, overjoyed to see them both.

  Rachel helps her to her feet and drags her out of the way of the two men still brawling. Ornaments are smashed and furniture broken as their violent struggle escalates in ferocity. Ryan has lost his knife in the fight and the two men are lashing out with fists and feet. Ryan is thrown bodily to the floor by the lackey but he rolls with great agility and Rachel throws him her stun gun. He catches it and shoves it into the lackey's chest. The man drops and to the floor and Ryan stands there sweating and panting.

  “Are you alright?” says Rachel.

  He puts a hand to his swollen lip. “I've had worse,” smiles, wincing as the cut opens up.

  “Come on, I'll get you some ice.”

  He follows the two women into the kitchen and Martina slumps at the table, a large brandy clasped in her trembling hands.

  “Have you any rope or tape Mrs Maguire?” says Ryan.

  “Err, yeah,” she replies, struggling to think clearly. She goes to the cupboard under the sink and pulls out a roll of duct tape and hands it to him.

  “That'll do nicely. Thank you,” he says politely.

  While he ties up Pete and his pals Rachel examines the bump on the back of Martina's head.

  “What's going on Rach?” she says, confused. “Where's Frank? And why is Ryan Law helping us?”

  “It's a long story.”

  When Ryan comes back into the kitchen Martina embraces him.

  “Thank you for saving my life.”

  Rachel pulls some ice out of the freezer, wraps it in a tea towel and holds it against Ryan's lip.

  He smiles down at her tenderly. “Thank you.”

  Ryan stares at her with those intense grey eyes, causing her stomach to clench deliciously and a flush to creep up her neck and into her face. She recalls how well he handled himself earlier and her stomach tightens even more. Feeling guilty and recalling her mother-in-law is present she looks down at the floor.

  There’s the loud slam of the front door and Frank's voice calling, “Martina.”

  “Frank,” she breathes, leaping up to greet her husband.

  She runs into the living room to find her husband, sons and brother-in-law staring at the carnage around them. Frank wraps her in his huge arms.

  “You alright Babe?” he says, overcome with relief to see her alive and well.

  “Yeah I'm fine. I just got a bump on the head.”

  “Rachel,” exclaims Danny, pulling her to him.

  When Ryan Law enters the room four Maguire men glare at him with hatred.

  “You fucker,” bellows Frank charging at him.

  Ryan appears totally unconcerned but both Martina and Rachel put themselves between the two men.

  “No Frank, he saved me. He stopped them from killing me,” says Martina.

  Frank looks confused. “No, we were supposed to meet up with him. He must have arranged all this.”

  “He had nothing to do with it,” interjects Rachel. “It was Pete. He never arranged anything with the Laws, Ryan knew nothing about it. Pete was blackmailed into killing Martina and he sent you lot on a wild goose chase to get you out of the way.”

  Horror shows in Frank's eyes. “Why would Pete want to kill Martina?”

  “Because someone threatened his kids if he didn't.”

  “Pete wouldn't do that. Sounds like some dirty Law trick to me, always were a clever bugger, weren't you Ryan?”

  “Rachel's telling you the truth Frank. I had nothing to do with it. Hurting women isn't my style.” Ryan speaks confidently with his head held high, without a trace of guilt.

  Frank pauses. He knows this is true. Ryan is the one the prostitutes go to when their pimps get nasty, the one who frees victims of domestic violence from their tormentors. He hates women beaters.

 
“I have proof. It's in the trunk of my car,” continues Ryan.

  He holds out his keys and Frank snatches them off him and throws them to Alex.

  “Check it out.”

  Alex and Terry leave and return a couple of minutes later with a very frightened George Emmott, whose terror only increases when he sees Frank Maguire.

  “Is it true George? Was the meet a set up so Pete could get at Martina?”

  George nods his head vigorously, desperately hoping the truth will save his life.

  “Why?”

  “They wanted you to think the Laws did it to stir up the war. They knew Martina's death would devastate you and that you wouldn't stop until every last one of them was dead.”

  “So this was as much an attack on the Laws as it was on us?” says Danny.

  “Yeah. They want all of you out of the picture.”

  Frank glances at Ryan, who is watching George with fury in his eyes.

  “Who's they?” growls Frank.

  “I...I don't know. Someone powerful, very powerful.”

  “Does Pete know?”

  “I'm not sure.”

  They all look at Pete's inert form on the floor.

  “I don't want this done in my house. We load them into the van and take them to the warehouse,” orders Frank.

  Terry and Alex nod and take the skinheaded lackey between then, grimacing under his weight. Danny and Frank approach Ryan.

  “Thanks for what you did Ryan. Appreciate it. We owe you one,” says Frank sincerely.

  He holds his hand out for Ryan to shake, which he accepts. Danny does the same, with a sense of shame. This is the second time he's had to thank someone else for protecting Rachel when it should have been him. He’s starting to feel like a failure as a husband.

  “Do you want to come along? This concerns you too,” Frank asks Ryan.

  “Thanks. I think I will.”

  Rachel is trying to convince Martina to let her take her to the hospital but she's having none of it.

  “I'm fine love. It was just a bump on the head. You've already had a look and I trust your judgement.”

  “But you've got to be careful with head injuries. Sometimes there’s internal damage that isn't always obvious.”

 

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