by Kerry Kaya
Kerry Kaya
Scorned
Copyright © 2019 by Kerry Kaya
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Kerry Kaya asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.
First edition
Editing by Hillary Crawford
Cover art by Francessca’s PR & Design
This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy
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For Jimmy, with love.
Contents
Acknowledgement
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
About the Author
Also by Kerry Kaya
Acknowledgement
I would like to thank two very special groups.
The first is LondonCrime.co.uk. Thank you for your support over the last year. I am truly honoured to be a friend of LondonCrime.
The second is NotRights book club and all the readers. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for both reading and recommending my books. X
Chapter 1
In the car park of a disused public house, on the border of Essex and Suffolk, Tommy Carter had parked his Range Rover. He flicked the switch for the windscreen wipers. Despite the onset of a light drizzle, it wasn’t a particularly cold evening, and he wound down the driver’s side window a few inches to let in some air and to help clear the condensation that had built up on the windscreen and passenger’s windows.
“I can see fuck all,” he complained, taking the sleeve of his jacket and wiping it across the glass.
“They should be here by now, shouldn’t they?”
Tommy glanced down at the clock on the dashboard. “Yeah, they’re ten or so minutes late.” He continued wiping down the window. “They’d better get a move on. I’ve got a table booked at eight, and if I’m late, Stace will have my guts.” He paused before looking across at his brother, Jimmy, the second eldest of the Carter brothers. “We’re meeting our Karen’s new bloke tonight; she’s booked a restaurant and everything.”
Jimmy raised his eyebrows. “Must be serious then, bruv?”
“Depends?”
“On what?” Gary Carter asked as he shifted his weight against the cramped confines of the back seat.
Glancing in the rear-view mirror at his brother, Tommy gave a chuckle. “On whether I like the geezer or not.” He took note of the expression of contempt that spread across his brother’s face, and his voice became serious. “What? Do you really expect me to allow my daughter to get herself involved with a complete numpty? If I don’t like him, he’s out the door.”
Jimmy began to laugh. “I almost feel sorry for the bloke.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see.” Tommy glanced down at the clock for a second time. “Where the fuck are they?”
“What if they don’t turn up?”
Tommy turned to look at his youngest brother, Jonny. Sat beside Gary, the brothers’ shoulders were practically touching as they had squeezed themselves inside the car alongside the two remaining Carter brothers, Sonny and Mitchell.
“They’ll turn up,” Tommy said. The fact that Jonny was the cause of them having to do this job was at the forefront of his mind, and he spat out the words.
“Yeah, but what if they don’t?”
“I said they’ll turn up; McKay has sorted everything out at his end.” Tommy turned in his seat once more to give his younger brother a cold stare. “And I’m warning you now, you’d best buck your ideas up. You’re the reason we’re in this mess.”
“I’ve said I’m sorry.” Jonny rolled his eyes. “What more do you want me to say?”
Reaching across the seat, Tommy grabbed a handful of his brother’s shirt in his fist. “Don’t start getting cocky with me, bruv. Seriously, I mean it. I’m not in the mood for you and your shit today.”
“Leave him,” Jimmy said, pulling his elder brother back onto the driver’s seat. “Right, now isn’t the time, is it?” His eyebrows were raised as he nodded his head toward the Land Rover pulling into the car park.
Tommy stabbed his finger toward his youngest brother and took deep steady breaths to keep his temper in check. “I’ll deal with you later,” he warned.
Fighting the urge to not roll his eyes for a second time, Jonny kept his mouth firmly closed. They all knew better than to antagonise their elder brother. Tommy had a fierce temper at the best of times, and it didn’t take much for him to lose his rag.
“This is it,” Tommy stated, turning back in his seat. He opened the car door, climbed out, and waited for his five younger brothers to follow suit, then clicked the fob on the central locking system, ensuring the doors were fully locked. He had a nice car; it was worth a fair few bob, and the last thing they needed was for the car to end up being stolen, whilst they tried to make a getaway.
Walking purposely toward the Land Rover, a wide grin was plastered across his face. “You found the place okay then?” he asked, as the driver climbed out of the car.
Big Tone smiled. He was a heavy-set man with short cropped hair. “Yeah, no problems at all.” He shoved his hand forward, before moving on to shake Jimmy’s hand. “I’m dying for a piss though.”
Tommy gestured toward bushes at the edge of the car park. “You’ll have to go over there, mate.”
As quickly as his size would allow him to, Big Tone jogged across the car park. He lifted up his hand toward his fellow occupants as he did so, indicating for them to climb out of the car.
Tommy watched, as the three remaining men walked across the car park and he gave them a wide grin.
“So it’s a consignment of guns, is it that we’re here to collect?” asked the eldest of the men, Mick Johnson. He wiped the rain from his forehead, then dragged his hand through his greying hair.
“Yeah.” Tommy gave a small nod of his head. “They’re in there.” He glanced across to the disused pub. “Thought it would be safer to hand them over without anyone driving past and seeing the interaction.”
Mick nodded his head. Despite being in a remote location, it was always better to be safer rather than sorry. He looked toward the once thriving pub. The run-down building was boarded up and sheets of plywood had been nailed to the windows and main door, no doubt to prevent squatters from breaking in. He turned to watch Big Tone, as he began to make his way back to them, pulling up the zip of his jeans as he did so.
“Sha
ll we get it over with then?” Tommy put out his hand, indicating for the four men to walk ahead of them toward the pub. “We need to go around the back. That’s the only entry point.”
They began to walk forwards, and Tommy glanced over his shoulder at his brothers. The truth was, there were no guns. All thanks to young Jonny having the audacity to try and tuck up Danny McKay, they had been roped into killing these four men as a way of repaying the debt the youngest Carter brother owed. The job in hand was a stark reminder that in their world, if you upset the wrong people, you paid with your life. It was only the fact that he and Danny went back years that it wasn’t Jonny walking to his death.
They rounded the corner of the building, and Tommy could sense the men’s confusion when it became obvious that there was no visible entrance. The entire building had been boarded up.
“Thought you said there was a door?” Wiping the rain from his eyes, the words caught in Big Tone’s throat, as he turned around to see the Carter brothers brandishing firearms toward them.
“I’m sorry, mate, we’ve had our orders.” Tommy swallowed deeply. His mouth felt dry and he ran his tongue across his teeth. “Turn around,” he ordered.
The shock the men felt became evident and they stood open-mouthed. “I don’t understand,” Big Tone stuttered. “We’re here to collect guns for Danny McKay.”
Tommy shook his head; he took a step forward. His voice remained firm and steady. “Turn around, mate, it’ll be easier for you.”
Looking around him, Big Tone couldn’t get his head around this turn of events. A trickle of ice-cold fear had shot down his spine, leaving the hair on the back of his neck to stand upright. “I don’t understand, there’s been a mistake,” he repeated, his voice wavering. “Danny McKay is expecting his guns.”
“We’ve been set up.” Older, wiser, and having been in the game for a great number of years, Mick Johnson knew the score. His voice was low as he spoke. “It was McKay who set us up.” He’d barely got the words out when the deafening gunshots began to ring out. In a hail of bullets and gunpowder smoke, the four men fell to the floor.
Tommy stared down at the lifeless bodies; his blue eyes were cold. It was over. The debt owed to Danny McKay had been repaid. He stabbed his finger at his youngest brother. “Let this be a lesson to you, otherwise, next time, it will be you bleeding out on the ground. Am I making myself clear?”
Wide-eyed, Jonny solemnly nodded his head.
* * *
Two hours later, Tommy pulled the Range Rover onto the driveway of his house in Epping, Essex. He switched off the engine and stepped out of the car, his expensive black leather shoes crunched down onto the gravelled ground. Even now, after owning the house for over ten years, he still felt the same sense of pride each time he looked up at the imposing double-fronted building. With its spiralled marble columns on either side of the front door, it was a far cry from the run-down council estate he’d grown up on.
Within seconds of exiting his car, his youngest son, Jake, came stomping down the driveway toward him, strapped across his back was a rucksack.
“Where are you off to?”
“Out,” snapped Jake, his long, dark hair tumbled around his shoulders.
Taken aback, Tommy turned to watch his son. “A, ‘hello, Dad,’ would’ve been nice, you stroppy bastard,” he called after him. When he received no response, Tommy made to walk after his son. He would need to have a serious word with the boy about his attitude. “And about time you had a haircut, ain’t it?”
It was at that moment that Jake spun around. A smirk was spread across his face. “By the way, you’re in the doghouse again; Mum’s on the war path.”
There was nothing new there. He was always in the doghouse where his wife was concerned. He tore his eyes away from his son and began the short walk to the house. Before he had even reached the doorstep, the front door was flung open. “Where is he going?” He jerked his thumb in Jake’s direction. “That kid is starting to worry me. Look at the state of him. He’s starting to look like a bird with all that hair.”
Stacey Carter rolled her eyes and tapped her finger against her Cartier wristwatch. “He’s going out with his mates. Leave him alone. And as for you,” she said, her expression stern, “you’re late. You were meant to be home over an hour ago.” She threw up her arms. “Honestly, what’s the bloody point of you having a mobile phone, if you never pick up?”
“I had business to sort out.” He glanced down at his own watch. He had just over forty minutes to have a shower, shave, and change of clothes before they needed to be at the restaurant. “There’s still plenty of time. Don’t worry, we won’t be late.”
Allowing her husband to walk past her, Stacey’s features softened. “Tommy,” she said, her voice gentle. “Be nice tonight. This fella of Karen’s, he must mean a lot to her if she’s finally introducing us to him.”
“What d’ya mean be nice? I’m always nice.” Tommy flashed his wife a wide smile, before charging up the oak staircase to their bedroom.
* * *
Karen Carter sipped at a glass of wine. Every so often, she glanced nervously toward the restaurant door. Resisting the urge to down the entire glass, just to steady her nerves, she smiled up at her boyfriend of three months, Jack. It was unlike her to introduce a boyfriend to her parents so quickly, but there was something about Jack. He had a certain way about him and like a moth to a flame, she had been instantly drawn to him. It may have been all a bit of a whirlwind, but when you know, you know, and she just knew that Jack was the one for her.
“It’s going to be fine.” He clutched hold of her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “What could possibly go wrong, eh?”
Karen rolled her eyes. “You don’t know me dad,” she sighed, as she turned her head a second time to look at the entrance door. To say she was nervous was an understatement. Her stomach hadn’t stopped doing somersaults all evening. She gulped at her wine once again. Where the hell were her parents? They should have been here by now. “Maybe I should give them a call.” She placed her empty glass down onto the bar and opened up her handbag. “We’re going to miss our table if they’re much longer.” She tapped in her mother’s phone number and hovered her finger over the dial button when the door to the restaurant opened. “Finally, they’re here,” she slipped the phone back into her handbag, blew out her cheeks, and turned to face her boyfriend. “Are you ready?”
He gave her a beaming smile. “I can’t wait,” he answered. “I’ve been waiting a very long time for this moment.”
“Sorry! I’m sorry we’re late,” Stacey said, as she manoeuvred her way through the bustling restaurant, leaving a cloud of expensive floral perfume behind her. She threw her arms around her daughter. “Three guesses why we’re late?” she asked, rolling her eyes.
“Hmm … Let me take a guess … Dad?” Karen grinned widely and stepped into her father’s arms.
“Of course your bleeding dad, who else?” Stacey groaned. Her expression was stern as she patted her light brown hair into place.
Karen stepped out of her father’s embrace and gave her parents a wide smile. “Well, Mum and Dad, this is Jack. And Jack, these are my parents, Stacey and Tommy.”
“Nice to meet you,” the younger man said. Shoving his hand outwards, his voice was strong and unwavering. With light brown hair, hazel eyes, and even white teeth, he was a good-looking man. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Tommy shook the proffered hand and noted that the handshake was firm. “All good, I hope.”
“Of course all good,” Karen interrupted. “Honestly, Dad, as if I’d say anything bad about you. Shall we get our table?”
As they followed the waiter toward their table, Tommy pulled on his wife’s arm. “What’s his name again?”
Rolling her eyes, Stacey hissed back her reply. “Jack. And don’t you bleeding well forget and go and call him something else, whatever you do; you’ll make a right show of us.”
Once their food had
been ordered and a round of drinks were in front of them, Tommy got down to the business of sussing out his daughter’s boyfriend. “So, how did you two meet?”
It was Karen’s boyfriend who answered, and he gave her a wide smile before turning his attention back to her father. “Well, my grandfather had passed away; I was planning to sell his properties, and it was Karen who came out to value them.”
Tommy nodded his head. “And did you? Sell them, I mean.”
“No, I decided to keep them, for now, at least.”
“And what is it you do for work?” Tommy asked between mouthfuls of lager.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I run the businesses my grandfather owned. He left them to me in his will.”
“Jack also owns a villa in Spain, Dad.” Karen grinned proudly. “That’s where he was living, until recently.”
“So, these businesses must bring you in a fair bit of dough then?” Tommy raised his eyebrows, impressed. Clearly, the lad had money if he could also afford to own a villa in Spain.
“Tommy,” Stacey cried. “I’m so sorry,” she said turning to Jack, before shooting daggers at her husband. “Stop being so bloody nosy,” she hissed.
“What?” Tommy gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I need to know that my little girl will be looked after.”
“No it’s fine. In answer to your question, yes, I earn more than enough to be comfortable.”
“There you go, see, he knows the score,” Tommy stated, before sinking his knife into the steak that had been placed before him.
All through dinner, Karen’s boyfriend couldn’t resist his eyes flicking across to her father. After all these years, he was finally in the company of the infamous Tommy Carter. It was a name he had heard spoken about, with a mixture of respect and hatred, all of his adult life. He sat back in his seat and watched, as Tommy took control of the restaurant, at the way other diners came up to the table to pay their respect. Intrigued, Jack continued watching and learning everything there was to know about the man.