by Sofia Grey
She screamed, unable to move. “Make him stop,” she wailed. “Please.”
“Okay,” said Jack. “He had a room at the Bluebell Arms in Bloomsbury. I don’t know where he is now.”
The guy still held Sapphire by the hair. He tugged at it. Her howls increased.
Jack couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m looking for him as well. I don’t know where the fuck he is. He gave me the slip.”
“You’re his bodyguard. Why would he run away from you?”
Huh? “He has information I want.” Jack’s phone vibrated again. Come on Tanner. Gimme some help. He continued to stare at Guy One. “Let Sapphire go.”
The stalemate could have continued indefinitely, had the fire alarm not burst into life. A loud bell rang in the corridor. It had to be Tanner, creating a diversion.
Both guys took their eyes off Jack, for a moment. It was his chance. He swept up with his right foot and kicked Guy Two’s arm away from Sapphire. In the same movement, he palmed the balisong, flicked it open, and slashed it across Guy Two’s gun wrist. It was his turn for the howl of pain. He dropped his weapon out of immediate reach.
One down, one to go.
Jack bent his head, charged at Guy One, and crashed into him. In the confusion, he fired his gun. Jesus, that was loud at close quarters. The guy tumbled to the floor, winded, and Jack dropped on top of him. He needed the pistol. Guy One was strong, his arms and legs like tree trunks, and his grip on the weapon was absolute.
Wrestling for possession was useless.
Jack grabbed the guy by the hair and smashed his head onto the floor. Hard. He was still awake, and still had the gun.
Jack slashed the butterfly knife across the guy’s wrist. Blood spurted out, thick and hot, and the pistol clattered to the floor.
Sapphire screamed. Jack looked over his shoulder and saw Guy Two grabbing her again.
“Leave her the fuck alone.” Jack yelled. He grabbed the abandoned sidearm.
With the balisong in one hand and a pistol in the other, the battle had evened up. “Which part of leave her the fuck alone didn’t you understand?” Jack was breathing heavily, but he was in better shape than either of his opponents.
He kicked hard at Guy Two, and then slammed him across the side of his head with the handgun.
The man grunted and slumped to the floor, his hands outstretched.
Jack couldn’t ignore the opportunity for a little payback. He stamped hard on Guy Two’s hand.
Time to get the fuck out of here.
Both guys were on the floor, bleeding and semi-conscious. Neither was a threat right now. Jack wiped his blade clean on the bedclothes, flicked the knife shut, and then opened the door, to peek into the corridor.
The firebell rang in a continuous shrill alarm, punters and girls pouring out of rooms and hurrying down the stairs. There was no sign of Tanner, or any of the other bouncers.
It was tempting to take the guns. Jack checked their magazines, flicked on the safeties, and pushed them into his pockets. It wouldn’t be such a one-sided fight next time.
“You okay, Sapphire?”
She nodded, tears falling, but a wobbly smile appeared on her lips. “You bet.”
All he had to do now was find Tanner and get out, preferably while they were still in one piece.
Chapter Seventeen
When Nathan finished classes for the day, he was exhausted. It seemed Shaz did more of the manual labour than he’d realized. Anita’s idea about getting local Pony Club girls to help was probably as sound as her business plan.
He was hungry and tired, and still had the feeds to mix, haynets to prepare, and then the horses to turn out into the field. As he sluiced his sweating head under the yard tap, he realised Irina waited to speak to him.
“Yeah?” He ran his hands across his face. “Is Andrei here?”
Irina bounced on her toes, anxiety creasing her face. Heedless of Nathan’s wet hands, she thrust a magazine at him—one of those Shaz left behind.
He expected it to be a trashy celeb-fest, a glossy story about Charlie’s band. He was wrong. The picture in question was taken in Paris, a glittery function hosted by an oily-looking businessman, with scores of overly made-up girls draped artfully in the background.
“Serenity.” There was an urgent note in Irina’s voice.
“Huh?” Why did that word sound familiar?
Irina unleashed a torrent of Polish, gesticulating, while Nathan stared blankly at the magazine. She paused, lifting her head to look beyond him. “Daisy,” she said.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Daisy and Andrei walking up from the road. Irina ran toward them, magazine in hand. By the time Nathan reached them, Andrei was firing questions at her, while Daisy stared in disbelief at the picture.
“What is it?” Nathan asked. “What has she seen?”
Daisy met his gaze. With pink spots of colour in her cheeks and her mouth dropping open, she looked shocked. Upset even. “Let’s go inside,” she said, and then, “I need to phone Charlie.” Andrei and Irina were talking rapidly.
Nathan placed a hand on Daisy’s arm to stop her. “What’s the matter?”
She held her phone to her ear. “Hang on.” She held up a warning finger, then turned to the side and walked a few steps away.
Okay. So she didn’t want Nathan to listen. That was cool. He needed to finish mixing the feeds, anyway.
Ten minutes later they sat around the kitchen table, while Nathan boiled water for tea. Irina sat with her knees tucked up, her hands shaking and her face pale. What the hell was going on now?
Daisy smoothed out the magazine page on the table, and swivelled it toward Nathan. “Irina’s seen a picture of her contact, Serenity, at this function in Paris. But there’s a couple of problems.” She stared down at the table for a long moment, before meeting his eyes. “The man she knows as Serenity… Well, he’s not a good guy at all. I recognise him. He’s a criminal. I don’t know how he’s mixed up with her, and I don’t think he can be trusted.”
“Okay. What’s the second thing?”
“I don’t think he can possibly get here tomorrow. I saw him a few days ago, and he’d been injured. Badly. He might not be alive, let alone in Rhosneigr.”
“So, Irina is pinning her hopes on a criminal, but you think he’s going to let her down?”
Daisy nodded.
“Are you sure it’s the same guy?”
“I got a pretty good look at him. I’d say so. Yes,” she said.
A criminal? Perhaps he was some kind of drugs baron. Rock stars were famous for their drug habits. But how would Daisy know him? He didn’t believe for a minute that she was a user. He’d park that thought for the moment. He looked at Irina. “And has Andrei told her? That’s why she’s so upset?”
“Partly. There’s something else, but she won’t tell me.” Andrei sounded frustrated.
Pushing her chair back with a rough, jerky movement, Daisy stood. “Didn’t she mention an alternative contact? In case this guy didn’t show?”
Andrei spoke to Irina, but she tucked her head onto her knees, her face hidden. Nathan’s heart went out to her. There must be something they could do to help her.
“I need to make another call.” Daisy disappeared outside, her phone in hand. She was soon back. “No answer. What the hell can we do?”
“Let me try again to get to the bottom of this.” Andrei shuffled his chair closer to Irina and spoke softly to her.
Nathan hated inactivity. He looked at Daisy. She stood there, arms wrapped around herself, indecision showing clearly on her pretty face.
“I need to feed the horses,” said Nathan. “Do you want to help me?”
Daisy shrugged. “I guess. I’ve no idea what to do, though. Can you show me?”
The distraction might do them both good. He showed her where to rinse and refill the water buckets, while he stuffed hay into nets, ready for the morning feeds. He didn’t rush through the jobs. Andrei might need time to coax
Irina’s story out of her. And this might be Nathan’s last opportunity to spend time alone with Daisy. He’d grab that with both hands.
They were standing in the doorway of the main stable block, when a large, white panel van pulled onto the yard. Daisy was in the middle of telling Nathan about her shopping trip to Chester with Sylvie and Alex, and how she adored working for them.
Would she miss her nannying job when she moved to New York? Would she miss Nathan?
She broke off and looked at the van. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“Let’s see who it is.” Whoever it was, Nathan hoped they’d leave again quickly. Daisy would be going back to Charlie soon.
They strolled together towards the driver, a youngish man. He called them to his window, a piece of paper in his hand. Probably a delivery driver who didn’t know the area well.
The back doors burst open. A man leapt out. He threw a sack over Daisy’s head.
What the fuck?
She cried out, and Nathan was already moving. He wrapped his arms around her waist. There was a tussle. The guy tried to wrench her free, but Nathan clung on. “No,” he snarled. “You’re not having her. Take me instead.”
Did Daisy realise it was Nathan holding her? She grabbed wildly and caught his shirt, holding on for dear life. He wasn’t letting go. Not for anything.
Something was pulled over Nathan’s head. It smelled dusty. Mildewed. He couldn’t see. He clung to Daisy.
He was lifted, and like one of his sacks of feed, tossed bodily into the van, judging by the way he slammed onto a metal floor. Daisy landed on top of him. The breath flew out of his lungs, and he gasped for air. Winded. Shocked.
The doors slammed shut with a loud clang, and the van lurched away. Nathan tried to move his hands, to rip away the sacking from his head, but there was no time. Someone gripped his wrists and bound them tightly behind his back.
“What are you doing?” His voice was muffled by the cloth over his mouth. “What do you want?”
Something slammed into the side of his head. He saw stars.
“Quiet. Or I throw you out.” The man’s voice was heavily accented, the lilting tone similar to Andrei’s.
This had to do with Irina and her criminal contact. What else could it possibly be?
The whole thing took seconds. Nobody would notice they were gone.
*
Jack clattered down the stairs, Sapphire close behind. Where the fuck was Tanner?
He waited at the bottom. He stepped out from an alcove and grabbed Jack’s arm. “Follow me,” he said, raising his voice over the noise.
“Did you set that off?”
“Yep. I thought you could do with an assist.”
Jack slipped one of the pistols into Tanner’s free hand, and then set off with him to leave through a nearby fire exit. They burst onto a busy yard, filled with punters and girls in various states of undress. Jack expected Sapphire to stay here, but she tugged on his shirt.
“I cannae stay here.” Her accent was thick. It took him a moment to figure out what she said. “Let me come with you.”
She wore the same thigh-length silky robe as before, like the other girls, but there was no time to find any other clothes for her, and leaving her here wasn’t an option. It was Jack’s fault she’d gotten hurt.
Sirens sounded in the distance, and the yard filled up with people. The best place to hide was always in plain view, so Jack, Tanner, and Sapphire drifted along with the crowd, splitting when they reached a quiet alley. Jack held Sapphire’s good hand, and they broke into a run to their car.
Sapphire stumbled and cried out. Her feet were bare, poor kid, and running on the sidewalk couldn’t be fun.
Jack scooped her in his arms, and they set off again. His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he had to ignore it. He had more important things on his mind, like getting away without being followed.
The car was two streets away, but they made it without being tailed. Tanner unlocked the doors, and Jack eased Sapphire onto the back seat.
Tanner stared at her. “Any reason why we’re taking one of the girls?”
“She’s hurt. And they used her as bait to catch me. It’s not safe for her to go back.”
“Hospital, then?”
“No,” she cried. “They’ll find me if you take me there. Can’t I just come with you? Please.”
Jack hated being put on the spot. “Where can we take you, honey? You’re equally unsafe with us. In case you didn’t notice, they seem to want me.”
“You said you wanted to help Irina. If I give you evidence of what they’re doing, can you give me protection?” There was a desperate note to her voice.
“We’re not the police. We’re nobody.”
“You’re still a better option than my going back to Gloria’s.”
“Let’s get moving,” said Jack. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”
With Tanner behind the wheel, they set off in a vaguely westerly direction, but crawling through the busy streets, congested with the early evening commuter traffic.
“So, what the fuck did I miss?” Tanner asked. “I was standing at the bar when I heard a gunshot, so I figured something was going down. And by the way, where are we going?”
“Juli’s house is in Islington,” said Jack. “We’ll go there. You can take a look at Sapphire’s hand, we’ll fix her up with some clothes, and then decide what the hell to do next.”
“Do you need looking at too?”
Jack glanced down at the blood smeared across his shirt. “No. I’m okay.” He swivelled around to look at Sapphire. “We’re going to a friend’s house. It’ll probably take twenty minutes in this traffic.” He wouldn’t give her any more information than she needed.
She nodded. Her tears had subsided, but she nursed her broken hand against her chest.
Jack’s phone vibrated again, and this time he reached for it.
Five missed calls. He scrolled through them. Daisy. Charlie. Aiden. Charlie again. And then Tanner. Charlie and Daisy were almost certainly asking for an update on Charlie’s apartment, so they could wait. Aiden was more important. Jack returned the call and put his phone on speaker.
“We’ve got a problem.” Aiden came straight to the point. “Our friends came back for their car but were attacked by a lone gunman. They escaped in a boat, and the car’s still here. We saw Maria fall. She may be hurt.”
Tanner gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles showed white. “Did you get the shooter?” He rapped out the words.
“No. He got away on a motorbike. The police had no chance.”
“How the fuck did they know how to find him?” Tanner asked the question on Jack’s lips.
“It’s a good question.” Aiden’s voice was grim. “A leak seems the most likely possibility.”
“Fuck. Fuck.” Tanner thumped the wheel with the palm of one hand.
Aiden carried on. “What are your plans? Did you find anything?”
Jack glanced back at Sapphire, who was curled into a tight ball behind Tanner’s seat. “Maybe.” He spoke slowly, his mind churning through the possibilities. “We’ll be heading back to you in an hour or so. I’ll call you later.” He hesitated. “Is Juli okay?”
There was a rustling noise, and then Juli said, “I’m here. We’re okay, but worried about Maria.”
“Be careful, babe. I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire. We’ll see you in a few hours.”
*
Maria was aware of Yanni, carrying her over his shoulder. They were moving at speed. Her head hurt, and in this position, she felt nauseous. It was better than being a target for a random gunman though. She clung to Yanni, eyes tight shut as he raced along.
It wasn’t far, and then he deposited her on one of the bunks in the boat’s cabin. “Be right back,” he said. The next minute, the little engine roared and the boat sped away.
She lifted trembling hands to her head and dropped her forehead into them. They were being shot at.
Was she hit? Was that why it felt as though she had an axe embedded in her skull?
Panic fired through her veins, and she forced herself to look at her hands. The palms were smeared with fresh blood.
The breath jammed in her throat. She stared at the blood. Christ. Was this it? Was she dying? She whimpered.
“Okay.” It was Yanni, coming to her side. “Let’s take a look.” He had a first-aid kit open and was riffling through the contents. There were smears of red down his face.
“I’m bleeding,” she whispered. “Am I shot?”
Gods. How bad was it? She was afraid to ask.
There was a hint of a smile on his face. “Shot? No. You tripped and banged your head.”
Banged her head. She considered the possibility. Relief was slow to trickle in. “Your face. Are you…? Did you—” She couldn’t say the words.
“Sit still.” He pressed something cold to the side of her head. Yanni peered at her, and then smoothed a disinfectant wipe across her forehead.
It stung.
“Ow.” The acrid smell of the wipe cleared some of the fuzziness from her brain.
“It’s just a scratch,” he said. “And a bit of a bump. Do you feel sick or anything?”
“Yanni, someone was shooting at us. Again.”
“At me. I’m the target.” He raised one of her hands and closed it over the cold compress. “I have to go steer for a minute. Shout if you need me.”
Damn it, that was twice in less than twenty-four hours. She really didn’t like bullets whizzing past her head. It happened so fast. One minute they were walking to Yanni’s car. The next, he was pushing her in front of him. Shielding her. Christ. She pulled in a deep, if ragged, breath.
Her legs were still wobbly, but she made her way up to the deck and found Yanni steering the boat through the swell. The land was some distance away. Taking a seat, the icepack still pressed against her head, she waited quietly until he noticed her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“You protected me. Thank you.” She shivered. “What are we doing now?”