For a second I freeze. I’m not expecting anybody. I’m in the country and never in the whole time I have lived here has anybody visited at this time of the night. As impossible as it seems it has to be Tony’s men. How could he have found me so quickly? Then I remember the teenagers. The way they watched us. It would be so easy for a man who has access to law enforcement databases to trace my car. When I hear car doors shut quietly, I snap out of my disbelief. There is more than one of them. Three. My hand moves towards the switch on my desk table. I snap it off.
Then, I’m out of my chair and streaking across the room. I grab the bat that usually lies collecting dust on the counter and go out to the living room. Not making a sound, I move towards the doorway.
I hear their voices. They’re already outside the front door. I position myself to the right of the door when I hear a rough voice say, “Just kick the fucking door in already!”
“Forget that door. It’s solid. Come around here,” another voice says closer to the French doors at the side of the house. In a flash, I run over to the French doors.
Bang!
The door flies open. I raise the bat over my shoulder and wait. As one of the men passes through I swing it as hard as I can at head height. The sound of wood cracking against a skull echoes through the high-ceilinged entryway. A brutish looking thug drops like a sack of potatoes in the open doorway.
“What the fuck?” Two other men stumble over the body but manage to stay on their feet. They don’t know yet, but they’re in trouble—deep trouble. One of them holds a knife and the other holds a machete. In a split second my brain has made a note of the fact that the knife and machete are dripping with blood.
Whose blood?
I need to get them before they get me. Instinct and the desire to survive take over. The machete is my biggest threat, so I turn to him first.
His crooked smile widens as he raises his arms, and the moonlight filtering in through the open doorway glints off the metal. He is a big guy. Strong, but clumsy. Instead of trying to attack his arms, I go low. A good blow across his kneecaps makes him howl in pain. I’m fairly sure I heard a bone shatter. At least one of his knees crushed from the blow.
“Fuck! You fucking broke my knees,” he screams, curling into a ball.
Now the knife and the gorilla holding it. He glances at his mate, then back at me. There is fear in his eyes. He hadn’t expected me to be so effective with just a bat. With a roar he lunges at me with the knife pointed at my stomach. A quick sidestep and a back kick knocks him off-balance. He mutters a curse before I whip a brisk blow straight to his balls.
He bellows, his eyes bulging, but no sound comes out of his mouth. I watch the veins of his neck pop as he drops like a stone. The knife skitters across the floor as he cups his privates, shrieking silently in agony while his friend with the busted knee is screaming abuse at me.
I make quick work of kicking their weapons out of their reach. Better to be safe than sorry. The car sitting outside is a Range Rover. I go out and have a look—the keys are still in the ignition for a fast getaway. I start the engine, then go back in the house.
“Come on you lot,” I grunt, dragging them one by one to the car.
They’re in too much pain to fight me as I push them inside—the one I hit across the side of the head is still totally out of it. I throw him across the back seat and slam the door shut.
The other two look like they’re in such pain, they’d rather be dead. I can only imagine, especially the one whose balls I turned to jelly. He deserved a lot worse than that, coming at me with a knife. I lean on the car and tap the driver’s window until Jelly Balls rolls it down. “Make no mistake,” I snarl, glaring at them. “If you come back here, I’ll kill you next time. Tell Tony he got off easy.”
Mr. Broken Kneecaps looks up at me, his face twisted with pain. “I wouldn’t be so smug if I were you. You have no idea what you are dealing with. Tony will never stop until you return his woman.”
“He’ll burn in hell before that happens,” I growl.
The car speeds off, tires crunching over the gravel. When they are about twenty yards he hangs his head out of the window and shouts, “Left a surprise for you at the stables.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Tyson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NrIL-0AtDY4
Now we are free
A cold wind blows as I turn my head towards the stables, five hundred yards away. The stable doors are open. Oh God!
The blood on the machete!
I start running. Running so hard I feel the rush of wind bite into my face. I stand at the threshold of the stables panting hard. I can already smell the fear and sweet smell of blood. I step into it. In disbelief. This cannot be happening. No way. Even as I turn my head to look in the first stall I refuse to believe it. Not animals. Not such beautiful, blameless animals.
Rubina lies dead in the first stall.
“No, no, no,” I mutter, running to the next stall. Jenny’s blood is slowly collecting in a thick pool of dark liquid under her head.
I turn to the next stall, horrified, unable to think, speak, rationalize.
Who would do this?
The monsters.
The unspeakable monsters!
Khan lies on his side. His eyes are open and his breath is labored, but he is not dead. His neck has been ripped open, the flesh raw and pink. He looks at me with his big shocked eyes. I rush to him and fall to my haunches. I cup my palms on either side of his face. My whole body is shaking with fury.
He makes a grunting sound of terrible pain.
“Shhhh … It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here now,” I say as I twist my hand hard. I hear his neck breaking. The life goes out of my friend instantly. His eyes stare vacantly. There is no more pain.
I stand up and walk to the next stall. Matilda, whom I have loved for the last eight years is dead. With my bare hands I break Riley’s neck. Then I go to Fey’s stall. I kept her for last because I didn’t want to see the destruction. Fey was pregnant. She was due to foal any day now. I take a deep breath and turn the corner.
Fey is lying very still on her side in a pool of blood, but a single straw next to her nose is moving gently. I rush to her side and drop to my knees next to her. Her eyes are glazed with shock. There is no recognition in them. She is almost gone. I kiss her face and whisper in her ear, “I love you. Hang on, I’ll save the little un for you.”
I run back to the house. Panting hard, I go to the kitchen and pull out the sharp meat knife from the wooden block. I grab rags from the cupboard. Then I sprint back to Fey’s stall.
“You did very well, Fey. Very well. I’m so proud of you,” I whisper before I break her neck.
As soon as I hear the crack I place the knife at the top of her belly and I slice her all the way down her underside. Hot blood pours out over my hands. I reach into her steaming organs and pull her womb out. I cut the sac and free the baby. I pull it out and it lies on the ground pale and still. Refusing to come to this cruel earth that took its mother away before it was even born.
Gently, I massage its limbs. “Come on, baby. Come on,” I plead to the tiny thing.
God knows how long I gently massage it, but finally I have to give up. I throw my head back and roar with fury. I look down at the still animal and I know rage like I have never known in my life. It is like a ball of fire in my belly. I will hunt every one of those men and I will rip their hearts out of their chests. They don’t deserve to live. They killed my horses. These blameless beautiful animals. I stand up and turn away.
As I take the first step I hear a slight rustling sound.
For a fraction of a second I freeze with astonishment. Then I turn around and look at the little foal. Its head is moving. It is trying to breathe! I drop down on my hands and knees and scoop it into my arms. I take it away to the place where it should have been born. There is fresh straw laid out there. It will be away from the stench of fear and blood. The first thing it sees will n
ot be the gruesome sight of its mother with her guts ripped out of her. It will be me.
It’s mother, it’s father, it’s protector.
I lay it down gently and wait for it to slowly raise its head. Unsteadily, it does and tears start pouring out of my eyes. I remember once being angry with my father for destroying my mother’s life. If he had not left her she wouldn’t have become the sad drunk she was.
She laid her hands on my cheeks and said, “There is beauty even in ashes. Out of the ashes you came.”
“Welcome to the world, Phoenix,” I whisper brokenly.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tyson
When he is able to stand, I bundle him up and put him into the horse transporter. I drive him to a friend of mine three hours away. He is experienced and has a mare that has just foaled and she might allow Phoenix to nurse from her. By the time I drop Phoenix off with my friend it is already four in the morning. I get back on the road almost immediately and call Ralph.
He is an early riser and picks up on the third ring. I try to tell him what happened to the horses without breaking down. His horror and shock is so deep I don’t think his faith in human beings will ever return again. I inform him I have business to take care of in London and he tells me not to worry, he’ll take care of everything at the farm.
Ralph is not a violent man, but as he hangs up he says, “Make those fuckers pay.” He ends the call without saying goodbye.
It is not fully light when I get to the cemetery. The air is very still as I walk down the path to my mother’s grave. It is clear to me now. Things have already gotten out of hand. He wants war. He’s got one.
I lay the flowers I bought at the petrol station on mom’s grave and sit next to it. There is no one around. The sky is just beginning to lighten.
“Mom, I know I promised I’d never tell anyone that Dad is my father, but I have to break that promise. I wouldn’t do it for me. You know that. I never once let on when I was in all those foster homes. I never told anyone ever, but your grandson is in danger now. If I don’t do something then they’ll kill him, Mom. I’m sorry. If not for him I would have taken your secret to the grave. I hope you forgive me, Mom.”
I feel my throat choke up. I close my eyes and suddenly I can see my mother. I was only four or five. It was before she started drinking heavily. We found a butterfly trapped in our house. We ran around opening all the doors and windows to let it escape. Finally, it found a window and flew out. She looked at me and smiled. “We saved it, Ty. We saved him.”
I feel a light brush on my arm and my eyes snap open. A yellow butterfly has landed on my skin. I stare at it, shocked as it flaps his wings a few times.
“Hello,’ I whisper.
And suddenly a feeling a peace envelops me. I feel good. A gentle breeze blows in my face. The butterfly flaps its wings again. I lift my hand, but the butterfly does not fly away. I bring it close to my face and look at it. I am so close I can make out its big shiny eyes. For a while neither of us moves.
The words appear in my head. “There is nothing to forgive.”
As soon as the thought comes into my head the butterfly flaps its wings and floats away. I watch it until it flies out of sight. Then I stand up and walk away.
There is nothing to forgive. Everything was over when my mother breathed her last breath. There is no more obligation. It was something I swore I would never do, not under any circumstance, but that was before other lives were involved. Now I must do what is right for Izzy and my son.
I’ll go see my half-brother Jake. I never forgot the tall boy from all those years ago. There was something commanding about him even then. Even though I never wanted to have anything to do with any of them, or even be reminded they existed, I’ve never been able to stop myself from reading about Jake Eden. The article claimed that he took over from one of the biggest gangland leaders in North of London. The article was based on pure speculation and anecdotes from anonymous sources since there was no evidence either way, but the author of the article seemed certain that Jake Eden was the famous Crystal Jake.
Once I even saw him. I walked into a club and there he was. He didn’t see me. I stood in the shadows and watched him. He was with three other men. One of the men I recognized. He was the leader of a Russian Mafia gang. The four of them were sitting at a table in a corner speaking as equals.
Once Jake turned his head in my direction, and I saw that he was no longer the smiling boy of years back. He had cold eyes. I knew then the article was right. He had taken over. He had become the leader of one of the most brutal gangs in London.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jake Eden
I pick up a paper at reception, get into the lift, and hit the button for my floor. When the doors open I stroll into my secretary, Eliza’s, office. She looks at me strangely.
“Your brother is here,” she says.
I don’t break my stride. “Dom or Shane?’
“Neither?”
I turn to her. “What?”
She raises her eyebrows. “He says he’s your brother.”
I look at her with a bemused expression. Is she serious? “I only have two brothers.”
“Apparently, his name is Tyson Eden.”
“What?”
“He claims he’s your half-brother.”
I shake my head in wonder. The world is so full of scammers, and some of them are bolshy enough to try and take me on. “Did he show proof of identity?”
“Nope.”
I frown. “Where is he now?”
“In your office.”
My eyebrows rise in surprise. “You let a complete stranger into my office? One that didn’t even bother to identify himself?”
She nods, a funny expression on her face. “Yeah.”
What the fuck is going on? I stride to my door, open it and come to a dead stop. No wonder Eliza let him decide where he should wait. The cocky bastard is sitting in my chair with his ankles crossed, and up on my table. Even in weather cold enough to freeze your bollocks off, he is wearing the gypsy uniform, a string vest. His chest and arms are covered in tattoos. His face … it’s like looking into a fucking mirror.
Dad, you old dog, you!
I lean against the side of the door. “You’re sitting in my chair.”
He doesn’t smile. “Looks like it, doesn’t it?”
“Also looks like you didn’t just discover you’re my half-brother.”
He nods. “True. I remember clearly cursing you and my father and your entire family my whole life.”
“Care to enlighten me as to why?”
He shrugs. “Your father impregnated my mother and left her without any money or support.”
“He was not the most responsible father.”
He looks like he wants to vomit. “I waited outside your house once. I saw him playing happy families with you and your brother.”
I frown. “When did you know about us?”
“When I was six.”
I stare at him curiously. “Why the return now?”
“I need help.”
I chuckle. I’m beginning to like this kid. “See, if I needed help from a man, I wouldn’t go putting my feet on his desk.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’d just burn his whole building down.”
I’m impressed. He’s done his homework. “That’s more my brother’s style, but I guess I have been known to do that too.”
He drops his feet to the ground and comes towards me. He is the same height as Shane, but with Dom’s build. Dad’s build. He stands in front of me. There are fine wrinkles around his eyes. Those you get from squinting in the sun. He looks me in the eye and instantly I know that we will become good friends one day. Underneath the cocky attitude is a man with a heavy burden.
“Will you help me?” he asks.
I smile. “It’s always dangerous to agree to help someone when you have no idea what they want help with, but yes. We are blood brothers. Of course, I’ll do everything in
my power for you. Come sit down and tell me what you need done.”
I close the door, and start walking towards my bar. “Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee? Whiskey?”
“Whiskey,” he says, dropping into one of the chairs in front of my desk.
I grab the crystal decanter and pour us both a double even though it is only eight in the morning. I hold his drink out to him, and he takes it from me. His hands are calloused. He is a man who works with his hands. I walk around the desk and sink into my leather chair. It is still warm from his body. What a turn up for the books.
Momentarily, I think of my poor mother. Even from the grave my father reaches out and hurts her. I’ll think about it later when I have solved the problem in front of me. I buzz Eliza and tell her to hold all my calls.
Then I lean back in my chair and gaze into the face that is so similar to mine. We look so much alike it’s uncanny—except his skin is more sun-kissed, and his eyes are full of goodness. He has not lived the life I have. “So …”
“To start with I have to say that I’m dealing with an enemy who might be even more ruthless than you,” he says.
“I doubt it.” I chuckle softly. Relief flits across his face. Poor guy. He’s cut up about something. Must involve a girl.
“To cut a long story short, Tony Jackson is after me because he believes I have taken his girl although the truth is I met her first. A strange twist of fate separated us and we only saw each other again two days ago.”
My eyebrows fly up to my hairline. Well, well, I certainly didn’t see that coming. “You’ve taken Tony Jackson’s woman.”
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