Reckoning

by Heather Atkinson

  “I will.”

  Ryan left him to it and joined the others in the small kitchen, sitting himself down at the table. If he was honest with himself he was feeling a little shaky after watching that footage.

  “No, coffee please,” he said when Jez put a whisky in front of him.

  “We’re not getting pissed, we’re just having a drink to Jules.”

  Ryan took the glass from him and held it up. “In that case, to Jules.”

  “Jules,” they all repeated before knocking back their drinks.

  “Now get the coffees, we have a lot to discuss.”

  “Is that it Ryan?” said Jez, getting angry again. “Did she mean so little to you?”

  Ryan glared up at his brother, not needing to stand to put himself in the superior position. “She saved my life, I have a lot to thank her for and, despite her many irritating ways, I loved her too. So don’t you dare doubt my feelings for her just because I don’t want to get angry and bite everyone’s heads off. We need to plan how to eradicate the bastards who killed her and we also need to consider our own survival and that of our families. If you would rather throw things about like a child feel free, but make sure you do it out of my sight.”

  Jez glanced at the others, feeling silly. “Sorry bruv.”

  “It’s alright, you’re upset. Now sit down and let’s figure out how we’re going to hit back.”

  Ryan’s words snapped them out of their fugues of grief and shock and they all sat round the table together to talk. Shane was surprised but pleased to find himself included. Jules had terrified him but he’d also respected her and he wanted to help the others get revenge. It heartened him how upset they all were, it was reassuring they had such loyalty to someone who hadn’t been in their crew for very long. It boded well for him.

  Mikey joined them, showered and wearing fresh clothes, once again the well-presented businessman, although his eyes were still red and full of grief.

  “So, what do we do bruv?” said Jez.

  Ryan’s eyebrow arched. “Why are asking me? This is your show.”

  “But I thought…”

  “That I’d come down here and sort this mess out for you? No little brother, I’m here to provide assistance, but that’s all. You and Mikey need to think your way out of this chaos.” Ryan glanced at Mikey, who didn’t appear to be listening and he was tempted to punch him. He sat back and forced himself to relax, realising he was embarrassing Jez in front of his men. Grant and Mark were loyal but they were hard men who would not respect a weak leader.

  “Well, the way I see it,” began Jez, unsure of himself, “our best defence is that no one knows for sure whether me and Mikey are dead or alive. As long as we have that uncertainty we have a measure of protection. There are a lot of people who won’t side with the Starklaws until they’re one hundred percent certain.”

  Ryan was relieved he’d finally come out with an intelligent remark. He remained quiet as Jez seemed to be getting into his stride.

  “We can use this to our advantage,” continued Jez, starting to feel more sure of himself now his brain was finally in gear. “We need to keep everyone in doubt about what’s happened to us.” A grin split his face. “We need to be fucking ghosts.”

  “I like it,” said Ryan thoughtfully. “If you pull this one off, rather than damage your reputation it will only enhance it. There’s nothing like a healthy dose of superstitious fear to make people fear you even more.” He looked to Mikey, wishing he’d say something. “And what do you think?”

  “Yeah, sounds alright,” he mumbled.

  Ryan’s eyes narrowed at his lack of enthusiasm. At least Grant and Mark were looking more upbeat. “Right, then we’re agreed?”

  “Yeah,” they all said in unison.

  “We can have a lot of fun with this,” added Mark. “This will go down in history.”

  “You’re quite correct there Mark,” smiled Ryan. His eyes settled on Shane, who looked a little panicky. “And what do you think Shane?”

  “Me?” he said, surprised to have been asked. “Err, yeah. It’ll shit ‘em right up. Let’s do it.”

  “You’re central to the plan Shane,” said Jez, unable to keep the wicked gleam out of his eyes. “No one knows you work for us, which will give us a huge advantage, if you’re up to it?”

  Shane held himself tall and threw back his shoulders. This was it, his moment to shine in front of all his heroes. “I am.”

  “Good lad,” smiled Jez. “Here’s what I want you to do.”

  As Jez talked, Ryan was filled with pride. His little brother was just as smart as himself, he’d just needed to realise it.

  CHAPTER 27

  “Oh God Ryan, I’m so sorry,” said Rachel, her voice cracking.

  “Please don’t do that,” he said.

  “Do what?”

  “Cry.”

  “Sorry, can’t help it, it’s just such a shock. How?”

  “Shot in the head several times by Jared Slattery himself. He even sent Mikey the footage.”

  “The fucking bastard. How are you?”

  “Holding up. The thought of splitting Jared Slattery’s skull open is keeping me going. Did you know Mikey was in love with Jules?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. He admitted it to me.”

  “I had no idea. Did anything happen between them?”

  “I don’t think so but I didn’t ask for the gory details. He’s not in a good way.”

  “He’ll cope, have a little faith in him.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Babe, I’m so sorry.”

  “Three brothers and now one sister, all murdered,” he said sadly. “You think I’d be used to it by now but I’m not. I thought I’d have more time.”

  “With Jules?”

  “Yes. I didn’t appreciate her enough when she was around.” Ryan swallowed hard at the memory of him telling the others they should kill her, he’d just wanted rid of her when she’d first come into their lives. Now he would give anything to have her back.

  “Rach, what’s wrong?” said Battler, full of concern when she hung up the phone, wiping her eyes. “Is Ryan okay?”

  “He’s fine. Jules is dead.”

  The big man was rocked on his feet. “Bloody hell. How?”

  “Jared Slattery shot her to death. He filmed it and sent it to Mikey.”

  “Jesus, that’s cold. I always thought she’d be too stubborn to die. You okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m surprised by how hard it’s hit me, I hardly knew her and she did try to kill me. But she saved Ryan’s life, if it hadn’t been for her we wouldn’t have found him in time and…I liked her.”

  Battler wrapped her in his huge arms and she nuzzled into his chest, seeing comfort from this man who was like a second dad to her.

  “What are they going to do?” he said.

  “I don’t think they’ve worked out an exact plan yet but it involves killing Jared Slattery, all his men, Nilsen and the Starklaws.”

  Battler nodded. “That’s a good plan.”

  Jules lay on the bed in her cell replaying the latest events over and over in her mind - kneeling in that cellar, cold steel pressed to the back of her head, being shoved aside, that poor woman forced to kneel in her place just because she’d looked like her - hair same colour and length, similar figure, wearing a black vest, tight black jeans and big, clumsy boots. With her hair covering her face who could tell the difference? She’d been forced to watch as an innocent woman had been shot to death, her skull destroyed until her face was unrecognisable. The look on Jared’s face had been very creepy too, he’d enjoyed himself.

  “Your brothers will think you’re dead, which means you belong to me,” he’d told her.

  “I belong to no one,” she’d retorted, voice absent of the defiance she’d dearly wanted it to contain. She’d been so certain she was going to die, had even become resigned to the fact and now she was still alive while another woman was dead in her pl
ace. She recalled the woman’s face, she’d been terrified and bewildered as to why this was happening to her. When she’d seen Jules wearing the exact same clothes, seen how identical they were, her eyes had filled with realisation and sadness that she was being sacrificed like this.

  Jules dragged her hands down her face, the memory was getting to her. It wasn’t fair. The woman’s eyes haunted her.

  The worst thing was, Jules thought Jared was right. Of course her brothers and Mikey would believe the video, they’d no reason not to. They’d think she was dead and she’d be stuck here with the mad southerner and his creepy mum.

  With a grunt of rage she stamped a booted foot on the floor. Fuck that. She was going to escape.

  Joel Starklaw was over the moon. They’d actually pulled it off - with a little help from Jared Slattery. Mikey Maguire had been burned up when the compound exploded and Jez was nowhere to be found, most likely cowering somewhere, lost without his big brother and business partner with only Declan Maguire for company, who was a fucking turnip. On top of all that Jared had topped the psycho bitch from hell. All the main players had been wiped out. The Laws and Maguires were finished. Finally. His only concern was Ryan and Rachel. They’d definitely want revenge but they were welcome to try. Without the back-up of Manchester they were nothings.

  Joel was halfway to being pissed, quaffing champagne as he felt it was more in keeping with his new status than lager. He was lounging about in a pub he and his brother owned with their men and Brogan and Kirk, the Maguire turncoats, all looking very pleased with themselves and making jokes at their defeated enemy’s expense.

  “Will you go easy on the drink?” Ollie barked at Joel. “I need you thinking clearly.”

  “What’s to think about? It’s done. Mikey and Jez are gone and we’re top in Manchester. Come on, have some.”

  Ollie was tempted by the glass of champagne Joel waved in front of him. He wanted to celebrate but worry was eating away at his stomach, churning up acid and bile, making him feel sick. He hadn’t thought his big moment would feel like this, he wanted to be happy, like Joel. No one had ever got the better of the Maguires and Laws like they had. They’d pulled off a huge feat but it gave him no joy. Now all he could think about was how he would hang onto it all. What if someone tried to take it from them like they had taken it from Mikey and Jez? On top of that, they had no real confirmation that their enemies were dead.

  “I’d feel much better if I could see Mikey Maguire’s dead body,” said Ollie miserably.

  “You won’t be able to because the bastard was incinerated in the explosion,” said Joel before belching loudly.

  “But if he wasn’t in the compound when it exploded…”

  “He was, Jared said so. We’ll track Jez down and kill him. Job done, nothing to worry about.”

  “There’s still Ryan and Rachel. I don’t fancy taking them on.”

  “They won’t do anything, they’ve no power anymore and no muscle. You saw the article in the newspaper, they’re loving their legitimate, law-abiding lives down south. They’re not going to ruin that for a revenge they know they can’t possibly get.”

  “Don’t forget Battler and Bruiser.”

  “Those old men?” sniggered Joel. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “There’s Dane Black too.”

  “He’s small-time.”

  “He’s got a good crew behind him.”

  “Some but not much, that’s why he needed Mikey and Jez to keep operating, so no one would fuck with his business. He’ll soon be knocking on our door begging for protection.”

  “Probably.”

  Joel was getting annoyed with his older brother. He wanted to celebrate and Ollie was spoiling it.

  “I know what’ll cheer you up,” said Brogan. “Why don’t we watch the video of Jules getting topped again? That was one irritating bitch.”

  “Okay,” shrugged Ollie while Joel and Kirk raised their glasses and cheered.

  As they watched the bullets shatter Jules’s skull, Ollie smiled. Brogan had been right, it had cheered him up.

  “There he is,” said Rachel, indicating the figure staggering out of the pub.

  “You sure you want to do this Rach?” said Battler. “Ryan’s going to be pretty pissed off we went ahead without him.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re worried about what he’ll say?” she smiled.

  “Well…yeah, I am actually,” he said gruffly.

  “I’ll take sole responsibility. Anyway, you don’t want a paedophile free to roam the streets, do you?”

  “Course not but I don’t want you to get into trouble for that piece of shit.”

  “I won’t.”

  “And this is the first time I’ve ever been on an operation without Bruiser.”

  Rachel smiled up at him fondly. “You miss him?”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “We don’t want him getting involved in anything like this, not with a baby on the way.”

  “I know, it’s just…weird.”

  “If you’re really not comfortable we can call it off and wait till Ryan gets back.”

  Battler thought it over before shaking his head. “No. In the meantime he might abuse some other poor kiddie. Let’s get it over with.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Thank you Battler.”

  “Anything for you sweetheart, you know that. It’s going to be like this from now on, isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  “Just me. Bruiser’s going to get really busy when the baby’s born.”

  “I’m afraid so,” she said gently.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Daina’s great for him, he’s so happy but it’s always been the two of us, Battler and Bruiser together. Now it’s just Battler.”

  “Why don’t you find yourself a nice little woman too?”

  “Nah, not my style. I like a woman for a bit but I couldn’t live with one or get married, I’d drive her barmy. I’m too set in my ways. I’ll always be a bachelor. Things change and I’ll just have to get used to it.”

  “You’ll always be a priority to Bruiser, that will never change.”

  “I know.” He started the car engine. “Let’s get this tossbag, eh?”

  She patted his arm as he steered the car out onto the road.

  “Jesus, this idiot’s pissed and he’s driving,” exclaimed Battler as they watched Hughes’s car weave about.

  “This is a man with absolutely no boundaries. If he thinks nothing about abusing and traumatising children he’ll certainly think nothing about drink driving.”

  “There’s never a copper around when you need one.”

  Rachel looked at him askance. “There’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear you say.”

  “Well look at him. He’s going to kill someone.”

  “Not if we get to him first.”

  Battler’s grin was eager. “I’m going to enjoy this. Some people just beg for a good hiding.”

  As they headed out of town, taking the road from Torquay to Babbacombe, Battler finally lost his temper. “That’s it, I’ve had enough of this prick. He’s a fucking menace.” Stomping on the accelerator he overtook Hughes’s car.

  Rachel gripped onto the door as he swung the car in front of Hughes’s, blocking the road, forcing him to stop. She was relieved he was compus mentus enough to brake.

  “We can’t do this here,” she said.

  “I don’t intend to,” growled Battler before throwing the car door open and getting out.

  Rachel got out too and watched as Hughes almost fell out of his own car. “What you doin’ you bloody maniac?” he slurred. “You nearly hit me.”

  “What do you mean nearly?” said Battler before punching him, knocking him out cold. “Open the boot Rach.”

  She did as asked, glad it was dark and Battler flung him inside then slammed the lid shut. “You drive his car, I’ll take yours,” he told her.

  “If you get stopped and they find him you’ll get done,”
said Rachel.

  “It’ll be fine, trust me,” he said before getting back in the car.

  Realising Battler wasn’t in the mood to be argued with, Rachel got in Hughes’s car and grimaced. “Oh hell.”

  Hughes had thrown up in the footwell of the passenger side, the stink making her stomach churn. She wound down all four windows but the fresh air didn’t seem to make a dent in the acrid stench and a couple of times she actually heaved. At least it kept her mind off getting caught by the police, but it was a quiet area with a low crime rate and they didn’t pass one single patrol car.

  She followed Battler to a house she and Ryan had bought to do up and sell on, a rundown shell that was once a working farm. They parked the cars round the back and the second the handbrake was on Rachel leapt out of the car and breathed in the fresh air.

  “You alright?” said Battler.

  “Hughes has puked in the car.”

  “Urgh, sorry love. If I’d known I would have taken his car instead.”

  “It’s done now. Let’s get him out of there before he throws up in my car too.”

  They pulled on balaclavas before Battler opened the boot. He wrinkled his nose. “He hasn’t thrown up but he has pissed himself.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “Wonderful.”

  Battler dragged him out by the scruff of the shirt. Hughes didn’t resist, he’d gone past fear and was just rigid and white, mute with terror. Battler manoeuvred him through the back door of the farmhouse and Hughes allowed him to. Rachel followed them in and shut the door then the two of them regarded Hughes, who continued to stand there freakishly still, like a statue.

  Battler put the Electrolarynx to his neck to talk, one of the small black devices used by people who’ve had laryngectomies. Their northern accents would be easily remembered and if Hughes reported this it wouldn’t take long for the authorities to track down who did it.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” said Battler, the Electrolarynx turning his voice robotic.

  Hughes shook his head, eyes wide, lips quivering.

  “You’re here because you’re a dirty fucking kiddie fiddler,” said Battler, his voice even more menacing through the tinny device.