Danielle nodded at her approvingly. “She is beautiful, she will be popular, especially with these,” she said, her fingertips brushing her stocking tops. “She will bring in much money.”
“What’s that accent?” said Rachel, struggling against the cuffs, rage building up inside her. “Polish? Russian? I bet you’re not here legally. What are you running Alex, a human trafficking operation?” Her eyebrows went up when he didn’t reply. “Oh I’m right. You already said Mikey doesn’t know about it, which probably means Frankie doesn’t either. He’s going to chop you up into tiny pieces for this. You too, bitch,” she scowled at Danielle, who recoiled from the anger in her black eyes.
“Say what you like Rach but I’m not the one cuffed to a bed.” Alex pulled open the wardrobe door to reveal an array of horrific implements. “Danielle, send in Sheridan first, really throw Rachel in at the deep end. Then send in Marcus after, he likes them beat up.” He leaned over her, running his hand over her breasts and down her stomach, ending between her thighs. His grip tightened and she grimaced. “You will be completely broken before I eventually kill you.”
“And Ryan will kill you.”
“How’s he going to do that? He’s just a legitimate businessman now, he doesn’t have the power he used to. He will lose and I will kill him too.”
“No power? Remember what his brother did to you on his own? Imagine what they’ll be capable of together.”
“He doesn’t have a fucking clue where you are but don’t worry, I’ll make sure he finds your body, what’s left of it anyway. When he’s a broken man I’ll finish him. Then I might bring Leah to live with me.”
“She hates you, just like your own sons.”
His eyes lit up with rage and his hands went around her throat and started to squeeze. Her legs kicked and thrashed but he refused to let go.
“Sheridan likes to do that to them. They will be disappointed if someone has got there first,” said Danielle coolly.
Alex released Rachel and straightened up. “You’re right. You’ll only die Rachel once you’ve made me a nice pile of money.” With that he left, slamming the door shut behind him.
Katia was waiting for him in the corridor.
“That bitch makes me fucking furious,” he seethed.
She hugged him and he kissed her hard.
“Soon she will be gone and she won’t bother you again,” soothed Katia. “Do you want me to see to her?”
“No, let Danielle do it. I don’t want her seeing your face, just in case things go wrong. I don’t want her to be able to identify you.”
“It won’t go wrong.”
“Don’t underestimate her. I hate to say it but she’s very smart and her husband is resourceful.”
“You think she will try to escape?”
“Yes, if given the chance and if she identifies you to Ryan he will kill you, it won’t matter to him that you’re a woman. When it comes to Rachel he’s completely ruthless and I’m not risking losing either of you,” he said, pressing his hand to her abdomen.
Katia kissed him again, practically purring with pleasure.
“I’ve got to go, I need to deal with Beth and the kids.”
“What are you going to do with her?”
“I’m taking them all home.”
Katia was furious. “What? You said you were going to get rid of her.”
“I can’t yet, my boys are pissed off enough with me as it is.”
She pouted and folded her arms.
“Don’t be like that,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “It’s only until I get my boys back. That bitch in there did a good job of turning them against me. When I’ve got their trust back Beth will have a car accident or suffer a mystery illness then we can be together.”
“You really mean that?”
“Yes, I swear. I want you and all my children together.”
She beamed up at him. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now remember, don’t go near Rachel. Send in the girls who don’t speak English to deal with her because she will try to convince them to help her escape and no one kills her but me, don’t let Sheridan get carried away. Is the camera set up?”
“Yes, it’s hidden, no one will see it.”
“Good because I want to see her get what she deserves.”
Neither of them realised an appalled Stephen Strang was listening from the next room.
DCI Taylor returned to the police station, stormed through the line of officers wanting to speak to him and strode into his office, slamming the door shut behind him. The pride and exhilaration he’d experienced after standing up to Alex Maguire had quickly evaporated to be replaced by real fear. What would he do to him now? Alex was a man not to be crossed and who had never made an idle threat in his life. Taylor had the sneaking suspicion his position wouldn’t protect him from the wrath of such a mental case.
He slumped into the chair behind his desk and took out a bottle of scotch and a glass from the bottom drawer. He knocked back a shot of Glenfiddich, which soothed his nerves a little. He hated himself for getting into such unmanageable debt, for losing his family, for succumbing to Alex’s demands. He also hated himself for being such a cliché; a divorced, hard-drinking bent copper.
“What an arshole,” he sighed, not really knowing whether he was talking about Alex Maguire or himself. How had his life come to this? To make matters worse, he hadn’t the first clue how to make it better. Briefly thoughts of eliminating Alex once and for all entered his head but he hastily pushed the idea away, recalling Superintendent Benton’s spectacular fall from grace, leading to him committing suicide in prison. No one had swallowed that verdict, they all knew he’d been murdered on the say-so of either Alex Maguire or Ryan Law. As there had been no proof they’d been forced to pronounce a verdict of suicide. If he did take the law into his own hands the only thing he could expect was the same fate as Benton. He had to be smarter but if he brought Alex down the legal way he’d make sure his payments to Taylor came to light, there was no doubt about it. There was no way Alex would go quietly. No, he had to find a middle road where Alex wouldn’t be arrested and be free to reveal his dark secret but where he was permanently neutralised. It would be best for everyone if Alex was assassinated by his own kind. Somehow he had to incite Alex’s death. The way Alex was going it was bound to happen anyway but Taylor preferred it to be sooner rather than later.
Taylor downed another shot of scotch before shoving the bottle and glass back into the drawer and stuffing half a packet of mints into his mouth. There was currently an ongoing investigation into the activities of the Lucifer’s Shadow MC, which were becoming a real pain in the city’s collective arse, especially their feud with the Angel’s Wrath MC. A group of his colleagues had been looking closely into Lucifer’s Shadow’s dealings and had been dismayed to find out that they’d recently started doing business with the Maguires. They couldn’t understand why such a powerful organised family would have anything to do with that bunch of morons. Angel’s Wrath would have been a much more logical choice because Dane Black, despite his theatrics, was a very astute businessman. They’d come up with two theories; either Alex had opened up another drug distribution line through Lucifer’s Shadow - but Taylor couldn’t see why he’d need their help - or they were just hired muscle and something big was coming. Alex was making sure he had plenty of back-up because he felt threatened. None of the other firms he was aware of had the power or the balls to take him on, which meant the threat was coming from the inside, either Mikey Maguire or Jez Law. His money was on Jez, there was a long history of antagonism between the Laws and the Maguires, in fact every officer in Manchester was amazed their truce had lasted as long as it had. Rachel’s marriage to Ryan had cemented the alliance but now they were in Devon things had changed. Taylor himself had seen how deranged Alex had become so he could imagine what a nightmare he must be to work with. What if Mikey was sick of bearing the brunt of it? Alex’s wife had obviously had
a gutful because she’d done one. With a bit of luck Taylor hoped he wouldn’t be very high on Alex’s list of priorities. Still, he couldn’t afford to be complacent, not when he was dealing with such a formidable opponent. He’d keep a close eye on the activities of Alex Maguire and all his known associates and choose his moment - and his ally - carefully. The king had to die.
Riley hung up his phone and sighed. “My friend can’t track that phone, it’s untraceable.”
“Oh hell,” sighed Ryan, struggling to keep the fog of panic at bay. “Rachel said she was in Moss Side.”
“She said she thought she was in Moss Side,” corrected Jez.
“It’s all we’ve got, we have to go with it,” snapped Ryan. “She also said she was in a house. What properties does Alex own there?”
“He’s got houses all over the place,” said Mikey, “but I’m not aware of any in Moss Side.”
“Get onto your contacts. If it’s part of his legitimate business it’ll be in his own name,” Ryan told them, punching numbers into his new phone. He might have been out of Manchester for a while but he still had his contacts.
They drove around the Moss Side area hoping to see something or someone that could give them a clue as to where Rachel was being held while they made their calls, none of which helped.
Eventually Ryan could stand it no more. He ordered Mikey to stop the car then leapt out and proceeded to kick the crap out of a wheelie bin. The owner came out of his house to object then swiftly changed his mind and went back inside when he saw the look on Ryan’s face.
“Ryan cool it, this isn’t helping Rachel,” Jez told him.
“Where is she? We can’t find her,” he bellowed, snatching up a glass bottle that had fallen out of the bin and hurling it down the street where it smashed against a wall. After everything they’d been through with the Jordans this seemed so unfair and he couldn’t stand it.
“Jesus, calm down or you’ll get yourself arrested, then how will you find her?” Jez took his brother by the shoulders and shook him. “Get it together, she needs you.”
Riley leaned against the car watching, understanding exactly how Ryan felt. He’d been there himself and he knew no amount of talking would help. The only thing that would make Ryan feel better was his wife back in his arms. He winced as he recalled how Zoe looked when Jasper White had finished with her and prayed Rachel didn’t end up the same way.
Inside the car Mikey’s phone rang and he answered but Riley ignored him. Ryan was starting to calm down but the anguish was still there in his eyes. Riley knew he couldn’t think or even breathe for the fear; fear that he’d fail her and that she’d pay with her life, fear that she was already dead. It was suffocating and it was the enemy, dulling your faculties and stopping you from thinking clearly. He winced and rubbed his shoulder. Escaping from the fire hadn’t done his gunshot wound any favours but he liked the physical pain, it temporarily dulled the emotional pain.
“I’ve got it,” yelled Mikey, leaping out of the car. “Stephen Strang’s called, he knows where Rachel is.”
Ryan snatched the handset from Mikey and pressed it to his ear. “Stephen, it’s Ryan.”
“It’s too late, he’s hung up,” said Mikey, taking his phone back. “I know the address he gave me, we have to go now.”
They jumped back in Mikey’s car, Ryan taking the front seat, leaving Jez to sit in the back with Riley. They regarded each other with dislike before turning their attention to the conversation going on up front.
“She’s not in Moss Side now, she’s in the business district of the city,” said Mikey.
“Oh shit that’s miles away,” groaned Ryan. “So where’s he holding her?”
The address Mikey recited back made Jez swear.
“What is it?” demanded Ryan, frightened by his reaction.
“We knew Alex was up to something behind our backs,” explained Jez. “We tracked one of his cronies there. It’s a high class brothel.”
“Why has he taken her…” Ryan abruptly stopped talking, closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. “Mikey, fuck the speed limit. Put your foot down.”
CHAPTER 28
The redhead called Danielle left the room and Rachel was alone. She bit her lip as tears filled her eyes, unable to believe Alex was doing this to her. He’d killed Martina too, his own mother, but how? The autopsy had said she’d died of a stroke but Rachel was sure there was some poison he could have given her to replicate that. She just prayed Martina didn’t know Alex was responsible, it would have broken her heart.
Rachel swallowed back her tears. Rather than mope she had to figure out a way to escape. She tried tugging at the handcuffs but they wouldn’t budge. Her only hope was that Ryan arrived in time but if Gus had left he wouldn’t be able to track her.
The door opened and she feared her time had already run out but a woman with short black hair and big blue eyes walked in. Like the redhead she was stunning but she looked pale and sickly. Rachel guessed she was a drug addict. In one elegant white hand she carried a black bag.
“What’s in the bag?” said Rachel.
The woman looked back at her blankly.
Great, Alex had sent her someone who didn’t speak English. The woman put the bag on the bed beside her. It was a relief when she opened it up to reveal make-up.
“Do you speak English?”
The woman ignored her and pulled out a foundation sponge.
“Can you help me get out of here?”
She remained silent, starting to apply the foundation in smooth practised sweeps, Rachel grimacing when she ran it over her bruised cheek.
“I’m very rich. If you help me get out of here I’ll give you anything you want.”
The woman replaced the foundation in the bag and took out an eyeliner pencil. She indicated that she wanted Rachel to close her eyes by demonstrating the action herself but Rachel ignored her. “The keys to the cuffs are hanging on a hook over the bed. All you have to do is unlock them and you can have everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
The woman didn’t reply but Rachel had the feeling she was listening.
“You can understand me, can’t you? Stop that,” she said, tilting her head away when the woman tried to apply the eyeliner.
She sighed and got to her feet, closing up the bag.
“Don’t go, please. I’ll get you whatever you want, just name it.”
The woman left the room without uttering a single word, gently closing the door behind her.
“Damn it,” said Rachel, tears prickling her eyes, fighting back the despair and the horrific images her mind kept conjuring up as to what she was about to endure.
Rachel’s head snapped up at the sound of voices outside the door. Her heart pounded as it swung open to reveal a sophisticated-looking blond in her early fifties dressed head to toe in Armani, hair held back in a French plait, make-up perfect. She gave Rachel a pleasant smile and quietly closed the door.
“You can’t possibly be Sheridan?” said Rachel.
“I am,” she replied, putting her handbag and expensive leather jacket down on the chair in the corner of the room. She was dripping in gold jewellery and was obviously extremely wealthy.
“I was expecting a man.”
“They always do.”
“It’s not your first time here?”
“Oh no,” she said so nicely they could have been at a garden party.
“You do know what this place really is? The women here are being held against their will.”
“You must think me very naïve My Dear.”
“It’s owned by Alex Maguire, the most powerful criminal in the north of England. If the police find out your life will be destroyed, you’ll go to prison.”
“We pay handsomely for anonymity.”
“If you think you’re untouchable then you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Please don’t swear, I don’t like it,” she said sweetly.
“You’re a complete psychopath, aren�
��t you?”
“I just have exotic tastes,” she said, perching on the bed beside her.
“You touch me and I’ll rip your head off.”
“And how will you do that without the use of your hands?” she replied, running her fingertips across Rachel’s bare abdomen, grazing her skin with her long blood red nails.
“Get the fuck off me,” snarled Rachel, flinging herself from side to side, cuffs clanking against the metal bed frame.
“Oh good, a fighter. I do so enjoy that.” Sheridan slapped her hard across the face. “But I don’t like the swearing. Stop it.”
“This isn’t a game, I’ve been kidnapped. This is illegal.”
“I’m not a fool, of course I know. It only makes the whole thing more exciting.”
A scream from the next room followed by a man’s angry voice and a loud slap made Rachel’s heart pound. She could hear the poor girl sobbing and begging him not to hurt her.
Sheridan’s hands continued to explore Rachel’s body, causing bile to creep up her throat.
“You really are beautiful.”
“Get off me,” yelled Rachel, her rage erupting but she had no way to vent it.
Sheridan’s hands wandered down her thighs. “I like these,” she said, caressing the stocking tops.
“Yes, they’re very popular,” she replied coldly.
Sheridan roughly grabbed her face, nails digging into her cheeks. Rachel was appalled when her lips crushed against her own. She managed to grip Sheridan’s lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard, wanting to throw up when the woman’s blood trickled into her mouth. Sheridan shrieked and squealed in agony as she tried to escape but Rachel only bit down harder. Her fist found Rachel’s stomach and the blow caused her to release her. Sheridan staggered back, her lip swollen and bleeding, staring at Rachel in horror, who spat her blood out on the floor.
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