During the two-second manoeuvre, neither Skinny nor Acne had time to help. They stood still, slack-jawed, arms hanging loose at their sides.
Ahead of her, in the distance, someone shouted. Lara ignored it concentrating on the two left standing.
She backed away, splitting her attention between the downed and bleeding thug and his ineffective backup crew, keeping aware of their every move. Her heart rate slowed and along with it, her breathing.
More shouting. A man’s voice. Pounding, splashing. Approaching from behind.
Lord, no!
Arms up and held out in front, Lara turned sharply to her left. Keeping Barcode and his crew in her peripheral vision, she faced the new danger head on.
Things were escalating beyond her control but she wasn’t giving in. No way.
Ryan, her Ryan, sprinted towards her, his face livid, his expression furious.
His impending arrival seemed to release Acne and Skinny from their inertia. They scrambled towards Barcode, helped the thug to his groggy feet and half-carried, half-dragged him into the dark recess of Crease Cut. Beaten and humiliated, only Barcode cast a backwards glance.
“I’ll be back, be-atch,” he mumbled while blood ran down the back of his head and dripped into the hood of his cream-coloured jacket.
Ryan threw a strong arm around her shoulder. “Better bring your sister to hold your hand, little man! So much as look sideways at my wife again and you can kiss your arse goodbye.”
Skinny and Acne struggled to keep Barcode from tumbling to the ground.
Chapter 12
Saturday 18th February – Lara Orchard
Walthamstow, NE London
Lara watched the three would-be assailants scurry away along the muddy lane, fading into the damp gloom.
“‘Kiss your arse goodbye’?” she said, looking into Ryan’s flinty eyes. “What sort of a threat is that?”
“All I could come up with on the spur of the moment. Sorry. Next time, I’ll have something prepared.”
As Ryan held her, the shakes arrived. Lara recognised them as the inevitable reaction, the aftermath of the adrenaline rush. She gulped in the air, trying to fight the twin sense of fear and euphoria.
She’d beaten a huge beast of a man in an even fight, using nothing more than movement, balance, and surprise.
How was that possible?
Ryan lifted her up and pulled her into a tighter hug.
“Lara,” he whispered into her ear. “Are you okay?”
She struggled, forcing him to lower her to her feet. He held her at arm’s length, hands gripping her shoulders, splitting his attention between checking her for injury and making sure the animals didn’t recover enough to launch a fresh attack.
Relief took over. Relief mixed with pride.
“Did you see, Ryan? Did you see? Those self-defence sessions at the villa worked. They actually worked!”
She practically shouted the words. Full of herself. The power chugging through her was awesome. She raised both hands in a “high ten”, but rather than responding and basking in her success, he frowned and left her hanging.
“They’re getting away, Ryan. Heading towards the industrial estate. Let’s go finish them off. C’mon. You and me. We can do it together.”
Ryan frowned, shook his head, and said, “Idiot.”
With that single word, Lara lost her high. It exploded out of her as though he’d popped a balloon with a pin.
“What? What did you say? Didn’t you see? Didn’t you see what I did?”
Still frowning, jaw set hard, he nodded and said, “I saw,” before taking her arm, almost as fiercely as Barcode had done, and pulling her way, heading towards Darwin’s house and safety. She had to jog to keep from falling.
“Ry—Bill, you’re hurting me.”
Ryan looked down at his hand, frowned as though in surprise, and released her wrist.
“Sorry,” he muttered and slowed his pace.
Once back at his side, she took hold of his forearm, forcing him to stop or drag her over.
“Ryan, what’s wrong? Didn’t you see what I did?”
He stopped. Fists clenched, jaw muscles bunching beneath his beard, Ryan closed his eyes and let out a long breath through flared nostrils. She’d rarely seen him so agitated, and never had it been directed towards her.
Finally, he opened his eyes again and stared into hers. Soft eyes, that could be so loving and warm, glistened with anger and tears.
“I saw it, love. Shiho-nage. Aikido’s four-directions throw. Executed perfectly, I might add.” He spoke with forced control, his tone flat when she expected him to be impressed and congratulatory.
“So, what did I do wrong?”
He stepped close, reaching out to hold her hand in both of his. This time, his grip was tender, gentle, but his hands trembled.
“Christ, girl, haven’t I taught you anything?”
“Ryan, you’re worrying me. What’s wrong?”
“What’s the first rule of self-defence?”
Realisation hit with the force of a slap to the face. She lowered her head.
He released her hand and stood sideways-on to her, keeping a wary eye open for attackers, as she should have done.
“It wasn’t a rhetorical question, Lara. Answer me.”
“The first rule of self-defence is to avoid dangerous situations in the first place. Fighting is always the last resort.”
He pulled her into another tight hug that made breathing difficult. After an age, he unwrapped his arms and held her slightly away again. Tears, real tears, formed at the corners of his eyes. For a man like Ryan Kaine to cry indicated how much she meant to him—and confirmed how badly she’d messed up. Lara’s vision blurred in sympathy and her throat constricted so tightly she found it impossible to swallow.
“When I saw you throw that big thug, my first reaction was to cheer and shout, ‘Go get him, girl,’ but to think of you in danger in the first place turned my stomach. You shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous. Anything could have happened. They might have been armed.” He pulled her close again, and his chin grazed her cheek. “Think of all the knife crime around here. People have died, damn it, girl. What were you thinking? Why did you leave the house?”
She squirmed around enough to kiss him.
“Sorry, Ryan,” she said, remembering to whisper his real name. “I really am.”
“You have no idea how terrified—”
She leaned in and kissed him again.
“…terrified for you, Lara,” he mumbled. “Can you imagine how that feels?”
Wait a minute. Oh no you don’t!
She gritted her teeth, wriggled free of his arms, and punched his chest harder than she meant to. So hard, pain bloomed in her fist. If it hurt Ryan, he didn’t show it.
“Yes, I can imagine exactly how it feels, darn it! Every single time you leave on a trip without me, Ryan Liam Kaine.” Even though she whispered his name and checked the area for eavesdroppers, she spoke with the venom of someone who knew both sides of the argument.
They faced each other on the pavement and the world fell silent. Even the wind seemed to die and leave them in a vacuum. While she looked at him, studying his anguished expression, Ryan still split his attention between her and their surroundings—never at rest, always on guard. He took on full responsibility for the safety of everyone he cared for. It was one of the reasons she loved him so much.
“For pity’s sake, Lara,” he whispered at last, “if anything ever happened to you, it would finish me. You’re the only thing holding me together. Without you—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, Ryan. You’re here with me, and all that training is—”
“Oh, Lara … Beth, what the hell am I going to do with you?”
“Forgive me?”
She leaned in again and kissed him once more. This time, his shoulders relaxed.
“Okay, you win. I forgive you.”
&nb
sp; Ryan took her hand again and all was right with their world. He turned towards Darwin’s house but she held him back. “I can’t go back there for a while. It’s too awkward.”
He glanced up ahead and then behind. The frown returned. “Why? What happened?”
“That darned woman, Primula Johnston. Such a busybody. Simply wouldn’t stop trying to wheedle information out of us. Eventually, Darwin lost patience and asked her to leave. He also asked her to return the spare key. He argued that, since his grandfather no longer required her help, she didn’t need access to his house. Well, you can imagine her reaction.”
“A wailing and a gnashing of teeth?”
“Pretty much. She started with, ‘After all I did for your grandfather!’ and continued with, ‘What have I done to deserve this treatment?’. And on, and on. For goodness sake, the woman’s squeaking voice could shatter glass. I just couldn’t stand it any longer. Had to leave. Ryan,” she said, staring deep into his eyes, “I really am sorry. It won’t happen again. I promise. Forgive me, for real?”
He let out a world-weary sigh.
“Suppose I’ll have to, won’t I.”
“Yes,” she said. “You will,” and ended the topic.
“You were heading to the shop?”
“My excuse to leave was a headache. I told Darwin I needed some aspirin. He pointed me to the nearest shop with a pharmacy which is … the other way.” She stopped and jabbed her finger towards Greene Lane, away from number sixty.
“Well,” he said, sticking out the crook of his arm for her to hold, “we’d better do just that, then.”
They reversed direction. Walking hand-in-arm and much more centred, Lara felt the need to talk.
“What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were heading back to the hotel for the car?”
He told her about receiving the text from Damian Baines.
“You didn’t consider it might be a trap?”
“Of course I did, but … what else could I have done but act on it? Was he one of the three who attacked you? I couldn’t make out the other two who dragged Barcode away.”
“No. Rhino … Damian, wasn’t one of them,” she said and described Skinny and Acne, adding, “They did nothing but crowd me. Barcode did the attacking, but … well, you saw what happened.”
Ryan nodded thoughtfully but otherwise didn’t respond. She allowed him to mull things over until they reached the junction with Green Lane and he paused.
“What are you thinking?”
He glanced at her, but maintained his vigil. “Looks like I was wrong about our friend, Damian. Seems as though we might be able to use him after all.”
“Use him for what?”
He squeezed her hand and pulled her closer until they were walking shoulder-to-shoulder.
“I’m afraid I have a little confession to make,” he said, giving her a pained expression.”
“Well, you know what they say. Confession is—”
“No, no, no. Please don’t say it.”
“Say what?”
“Don’t say, ‘confession is good for the soul’.”
“Why not?”
“You know I hate clichés.”
“Yes, but I like them. Nothing wrong with the occasional old saying, if it’s relevant. However, moving on. What, dear William, do you have to confess to your long-suffering wife?”
He grimaced, and let out another sigh, this one deeper and longer than the other.
“Well, I didn’t quite tell you everything Damian said during our little tête-à-tête this morning.”
Tightness developed on Lara’s forehead but, this time, she tried not to frown. “Ryan Kaine,” she whispered, “you said there’d be no secrets between us.” She added the hint of a smile to diffuse any tension.
“Lara Orchard,” he answered, equally quiet, “operational necessity sometime requires me to hold certain intelligence from my operatives.”
“Your operatives? I’m nothing but an ‘operative’ to you?”
“When we’re in the field, yes,” he said, adding a smirk. “A very special one, though.”
Lara closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head slowly, allowing him to lead the way. He remained silent as a woman pushing a pram rushed past, quietly soothing her baby—a six-month-old with pale skin, fair hair, and striking blue eyes.
“Being serious for a moment,” she said, once mother and baby were far enough away, “why hold out on me?”
“To be totally honest, I didn’t believe a word the man said.”
“Which was?”
“Damian said he wasn’t actually going to attack me, but he only followed me because he wanted to talk.”
“And you didn’t believe him?”
“Would you have?”
She tilted her head. “Doubt it. So, he was following you for a chat? What about? The latest football results, perhaps?”
“Nope,” Ryan said, shaking his head again. “According to Corky’s research, Rhino’s an Arsenal fan. We don’t have anything in common. As you know, can’t stand the Gooners, me.”
“Bill, stop dragging this out. What did the man say?”
“Apparently, when Barcode ordered him to follow me, Damian decided to wait until we were out of sight before offering to help me close down the Tribe.”
“Really?”
“It’s what he said. Unfortunately, I engineered our little meeting before he had the chance to chat. Or so he claimed.”
Lara lifted an eyebrow.
“I can see why you didn’t believe him.”
A gust of wind blew Ryan’s wavy hair across his face. Lord, he was handsome. Even though he claimed to hate the new look, the beard and long hair suited him. It softened the tough military edge.
“Exactly. And that’s why I gave him my burner number. I wanted to offer him the chance to prove his mettle. It seems he’s done just that.”
She nodded. “Agreed.”
“I’ll have to work out a way to thank him properly for the warning.”
He pointed ahead, towards a busy corner shop on the other side of the road, a hundred metres distant. It doubled as a grocery store, a pharmacy, and an off-licence. Sales posters decorated a large display window. Beneath a single door with pristine red paintwork, a sign read, Mamet’s Groceries – Open All Hours. Lara smiled at the association to the old sitcom and wondered whether Ryan would understand the reference.
“Not far now. Keep your eyes open,” Ryan said, keeping his voice down. “We might bump into Arkwright and Granville.”
His words answered her unasked question and she allowed her smile to grow.
After another fifty metres’ brisk walk, they reached the shop and Ryan stopped.
“What next?”
“You buy some tablets for yourself, and a few more groceries for young Darwin,” he said.
Although he returned her smile, his eyes kept scanning the neighbourhood. She took it as her cue and copied him.
In the distance, at the far end of the street, something dark and green stood out against the grey tarmac, the red brickwork, and the slate black of the roofs. The same something stirred in the easing wind. Could it be vegetation battling to survive in the middle of one of western Europe’s most polluted cities? Anybody’s guess.
As she took in the scene, the sun came out and did a great deal to lift her gloom. When had she turned into such a misery? Perhaps it was the after-effects of her incident with Barcode. Either way, for Ryan’s sake, she needed to snap out of her sudden dark mood.
He broke the spell. “The coast is clear. I’ll wait here. By the way, if you see a pack of trail mix in there…”
“I’ll pick one up for you, but check the sell-by date first.”
He nodded. “You know me so well.”
She pushed open the shop door and entered a dark Aladdin’s Cave of knickknacks and treasures, and the mouth-watering aroma of curry spices.
#
By the time she returned to Ryan, armed wi
th the tablets, trail mix, an apple, and other assorted goodies, he had his mobile in hand and was sliding a thumb up the screen.
“Have you decided what to do with Damian?”
Ryan shrugged. “Not exactly. I’ll discuss the options after I meet him this evening. Need to hear what he has to say first.”
“Something else you didn’t tell me?”
“Not guilty this time.” Ryan flashed her the burner. “I’ve only just decided to invite young Damian for a drink. Fancy joining us?”
“Try stopping me.”
His eyebrows jumped up. “After seeing what you did to that monster, Barcode, not likely, girl. You scare me to death.”
She jabbed him in the chest with a finger. “Quite right, Mister. And don’t you forget it.”
“Not me, wife. Never going to happen.” He leaned closer and whispered, “I love you, Ms Orchard.”
For the briefest of moments, Lara’s heart seemed to stop beating.
“And,” he continued, “until I know the lay of the land and have formed a battle plan, I’m not letting you out of my sight again. No arguments.”
Ryan cared so much for her. It was clear her brush with Barcode had upset him badly.
“What if I need to visit the powder room?” she asked, trying to make light of the episode.
Ryan stiffened and fixed her with his brown eyes. The twinkle had gone, nothing but serious calculation remained. This was his “game face”. No doubt about it. She’d seen it so many times before. He was in calculation mode.
“This isn’t a joke, love. You might think you’re equipped to protect yourself, but you aren’t. Not fully. Back there, with Barcode, you were lucky. Really lucky. You took that big bastard by surprise. Next time—if there is a next time—he’ll be on his guard.” He grabbed her by the upper arms, his grip tight, almost painful. “I’m not having you in danger. If it comes to it, I’ll join you in the goddamned ‘powder room’ and stand outside your stall while you do your business.”
He closed his eyes and the crushing grip eased. She leaned against him again, soaking up his warmth.
Ryan Kaine: On the Money: (Ryan Kaine's 83 series Book 5) Page 11