Aftermath (Dividing Line #6) (2 page)

“How can you be sure Jules is his daughter if you were turning tricks at the time?” said Ryan.

“Because he was my only client back then. He never was a full shilling, I spotted that right away even if no one else did, not even his stupid bastard brother.”

“Don’t you dare talk about Frank like that,” said Rachel.

Estelle just gave one of her annoying shrugs, which infuriated Rachel. She wasn’t used to being so easily dismissed.

“Terry insisted I didn’t see any other clients for two years, he paid me well enough so I didn’t need to. As soon as I fell pregnant I told him, I thought he’d pay for an abortion and that would be that but he insisted I kept it. He arranged the deal. Ten grand for our kid and we split the money fifty fifty.”

“Disgusting,” said Rachel.

“What the fuck do you know about it? When have you ever had to struggle like I’ve struggled?”

“You wouldn’t have struggled if you hadn’t got addicted to drugs. It’s your own stupid fault and your kids suffered for it.”

“You stuck-up, arrogant bitch.”

“No Estelle,” said Ryan, voice low. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”

Estelle held her tongue. She could never hope to win that argument. Clearly he’d put his wife on a pedestal. “Anyway,” she sighed, getting bored with the conversation, “a couple of months after we sold her Terry left one day and I never saw him or Jules again. I wish I’d kept my lovely little girl and got rid of you. I even put it to Stuart Cutter once but he went mental, so I was lumbered with you.”

“I’ll kill her,” yelled Rachel, leaping to her feet but, before she could make a move, Ryan’s arms encircled her waist and pulled her back down to the couch. He put a firm arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair. “It’s alright Babe, it’s alright.”

“No it’s not Ryan. This old tart doesn’t know what an amazing son she’s got and the only one who’s losing out is her, only she’s too fucking thick to realise it.” She turned her black eyes on Estelle. “If our boys turn out to be half the man their dad is we’ll be very lucky.”

Estelle laughed, chugging out smoke like a demented train. “And what about the girl, little Leah? Do you hope she turns out like her daddy too? Her real daddy I mean. What a disappointment, going from having Danny Maguire as a dad to that,” she said, waving the cigarette at Ryan. “I bet she grows up to be as useless and pathetic as him.”

Rachel opened her mouth to retort but Ryan got there first. He shot to his feet and loomed over Estelle. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about my daughter like that you bitter, dried up old whore,” he roared.

Silence filled the room, punctuated by Ryan’s angry breathing. For the first time in her life Estelle kept her mouth shut, afraid of provoking him further. It was very rare for Ryan to shout, usually when he was angry his voice went the other way, low and hard. She recognised she’d pushed him to that blurred red place beyond rage.

Rachel took his hand and pulled, urging him to sit back down, which he did, furious gaze never leaving Estelle. He cleared his throat and when he spoke again he was once more calm and composed. “Do you have an address for the family who bought Jules off you?”

“Sorry, we don’t exchange Christmas cards,” she said sarcastically, feeling it was safe to do so now he had control of himself.

Rachel was about to ask if she’d ever thought about making contact with her daughter then changed her mind. The baby had been an inconvenience to Estelle and like everything that inconvenienced her she’d pushed it out of her life. It was even stuffier in the dirty room, the smoke wrapped around her, suffocating. Rachel was desperate to get out but was waiting for Ryan to say the word. This was his show.

“We’re done here,” he said and Rachel casually got to her feet, forcing herself not to run outside and breathe in the fresh air.

“Good riddance,” said Estelle. They ignored her and walked to the door but to their chagrin she followed. “Fuck off out of it the pair of you.”

“Goodbye Estelle. I doubt you’ll ever see us again,” said Ryan flatly.

“Until you want more information, then you’ll be back flashing the cash, thinking you’re God’s gift to fucking mankind. I hate you. I wish you’d never been born. I should have stuck a knitting needle up my fanny like the other women and aborted you down the toilet where you belong.”

Rachel halted, unable to walk because she’d been seized by a fury so violent it paralysed her. Only when the wave of anger ebbed back slightly was she able to move again.

Estelle swallowed hard as she looked into her daughter-in-law’s shark’s eyes.

“That’s it,” whispered Rachel. Her hand shot out, grasped Estelle by the throat and slammed her back against the wall. “You’ve spoken to him like that for the last time. That nasty gob of yours needs shutting,” she said, drawing back her fist.

“Aren’t you going to stop her?” shrieked Estelle, trying to prise Rachel’s hand from her neck and failing. She wasn’t used to physical violence, she’d always been spared it because of who her boys were.

“Why should I?” replied Ryan casually. “It’s about time you were put in your place.”

Estelle could only watch as Rachel’s fist came towards her and she screwed her eyes tight shut, helpless to stop the blow. Instead there was a loud thud next to her head and she opened her eyes to see Rachel’s fist embedded in the flimsy plaster. It was a testament to the power of her that she’d put a hole right through it.

“The only reason you’re still in one piece is because you’re his mum and our boys’ grandmother,” said Rachel.

She shoved Estelle aside who watched them leave, considerably less lairy than before they’d arrived, rubbing her sore neck. She sighed with relief when the door slammed shut behind them, her hands shaking. Her mood quickly lifted when she saw the pile of cash sitting on her coffee table.

CHAPTER 3

Shane wanted to run away when he saw the Laws storming up to him, Ryan’s face tight with anger while Rachel’s black eyes flashed. Estelle had a habit of making people feel like that. Shane threw his lads a warning glance, telling them to behave themselves but, judging by the way they hung their heads, they fully intended to.

“A word in private,” Ryan told him with a nod of the head.

Shane was reluctant to step away from the security of his group but he didn’t dare refuse, attempting to look nonchalant as he followed him. Rachel came too, smiling to herself when she saw Chug slumped against a brick wall cupping his aching genitals, going out of his way to avoid eye contact with her.

Shane cringed when Ryan reached into his inner jacket pocket then exhaled noisily when he pulled out a notepad and pen.

“You alright?” frowned Ryan.

“Fine,” he replied, voice higher than normal.

“I’m leaving you my phone number.”

Shane resisted the urge to grin inanely.

“It’s a business number and untraceable. I want you to keep an eye on Estelle’s flat, discreetly of course, and let me know if you see anything of interest.”

“Like what?” Shane almost added the word
Sir
before resisting.

“I’m sure you’ll know it when you see it. You seem to have a couple more brain cells than the rest of your cronies.”

“No problem, you can leave it with me.”

“And you don’t share this number with anyone, got it?”

“Got it,” he replied, accepting the piece of paper. Cool crisp notes were pressed into his hand.

“There’s five hundred. You’ll get double that if you come through.”

Shane nodded in what he hoped was a man-of-the-world way, as though he was paid five hundred quid every day when inside he was jumping for joy. If he played his cards right he might get more work from the Laws, then he’d be well on his way to realising his dreams and getting off this estate, just like the man standing before him had. He’d built up an empire and was worth millions. Shane was determined that would be him one day.

Rachel and Ryan climbed back into the unmolested Range Rover and set off in silence. Rachel’s anger ebbed away as they left the city behind, hitting the quiet country road that would take them to the East Midlands Airport for their flight to Aberdeen.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that to your mum.”

Ryan didn’t reply, fiercely slamming the vehicle into gear, making the engine growl.

“I shouldn’t have lost it,” she continued. “I was there to keep you calm and instead I ended up going off on one.”

Once again he didn’t reply, his gaze riveted to the road.

“Ryan…”

Without slowing down or giving any warning he swung the vehicle into a lay-by, causing the car behind to blare its horn as it drove by.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

He switched off the engine and began pounding the steering wheel with his fists.

“Stop it, you’re going to hurt yourself.” When he continued to bang his fists she unclipped her seatbelt, grasped his face in both hands and forced him to look at her. “Ryan I said stop it, do you hear me?”

He glared at her, chest heaving, hands screwed up into big fists but Rachel felt no fear, he’d never hurt her. The next thing she knew his lips were crushing against hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth as he unfastened his seatbelt, his kiss full of raw need.

Rachel was pushed back into her seat, releasing a surprised gasp when it was tilted backwards, flipping her onto her back. Ryan climbed on top of her, hands pushing up her skirt.

“Ryan, this car doesn’t have blacked out windows. Anyone can see in.”

He was beyond reason and stared down at her steadily as he unzipped his trousers.

Rachel was pinned by his gaze, her heart thudding with excitement. He was just so alpha he took her breath away. It didn’t matter to him that anyone could see in, this was what he wanted, it was happening. All she could do was hang on tight.

His determined eyes kept her tethered to her seat as he pulled down her underwear and tossed it into the backseat. She released a small mewl of excitement when he slipped a finger inside her. Feeling how wet she was his big chest heaved harder and his gaze darkened. He pressed deeper, a wicked smile lighting up his face when she moaned loudly. A second finger joined the first and she arched her spine, writhing with pleasure. What little restraint he had left snapped entirely when her hand cupped his crotch. He pulled her legs around his waist then gave her one deep kiss before thrusting inside her. Rachel cried out and wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair, welcoming his aggressive tongue into her mouth, enjoying the rasp of his stubble against her cheek.

“Take this off,” he demanded, tugging at her blouse. Before she’d had the chance to unfasten the buttons he’d ripped it open and was kissing her breasts.

Voices from outside tried to pull Rachel from the bliss enveloping her. “Ryan, there’s someone outside,” she managed to gasp through the uncompromising thrusts. The pleasure swelled inside her, threatening to burst. “Oh God,” she moaned.
Fuck it
,
who cares
, she thought, enjoying the low growl rumbling in the back of his throat as his climax approached. She wrapped her legs around him tighter as she flew head-first towards orgasm and when it hit she felt like she’d been thrown into a brick wall. He ground his mouth against hers, swallowing her cry, growling louder when her nails dug into his back, sinking into the flesh. Rachel felt him pulsating inside her, his anger released with his seed.

With one last moan her body relaxed. She was a little light-headed, every part of her thrumming and trembling.

Ryan rested on top of her, breathing hard. When the last drop of his anger left him his head snapped up and he appeared appalled by himself. “Oh Christ, I did it again. Are you okay babe?”

“Course I am, more than alright,” she smiled, pulling his face down to hers for a kiss.

“I was just so angry with Estelle I lost it.”

“So you weren’t mad at me for pinning her up against the wall?”

“No Sweetheart, that was the best part of our visit. I hate the vicious old hag. The way she spoke to you…the things she said about Leah…it made me fucking furious.”

His anger was starting to take hold again so she kissed him tenderly, sinking love into it rather than lust and it evaporated.

He pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“Absolutely,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.

“I forced you,” he said, sickened with himself.

“You can’t force me because I always want you. You understand? It’s just not possible,” she smiled, cupping his face.

“I shouldn’t have done it but when I’m that fucking mad all I can think about is being inside you. It’s the only thing that makes it go away.”

“It’s okay,” she said, hugging him. “I was proud of you in there, you did really well. When you think how she used to affect you and how you were today there’s a world of difference.”

“Because you were there.”

“No, it’s because you’ve changed inside. The scared little boy has gone. I think you laid him to rest when you told her to get out of Manchester.”

“Perhaps. Terry Maguire is Jules’s dad. Unbelievable. Maguires just keep popping up, don’t they?”

“They do,” she sighed. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know yet and I certainly can’t think in this position, it’s too distracting.”

“I’m sure someone walked past us and heard everything.”

“Then they would have got a thrill,” he said, sitting up and fastening his trousers, crooking his head so he wouldn’t bang it on the roof. He smiled down at her. “Damn we’re good.”

“I know,” she smiled dreamily, shrugging down her skirt. “You ripped my blouse.”

“Sorry sweetheart, I’ll get you another one out the back.”

“You need to do it fast or we’ll miss our flight.”

They’d decided to stop by Estelle’s and catch a plane from East Midlands Airport for Mikey and Amber’s wedding in a Scottish castle in Aberdeenshire. They’d intended to bring the kids along too but Rachel’s parents had kicked up such a fuss they’d given in and left them with them just to keep the peace. They didn’t want them anywhere near the Maguires again. Her dad hadn’t even wanted her and Ryan to go but Mikey was like her little brother and she was damned if she was going to miss his wedding day. Rick had seemed doubtful but she’d managed to convince him she wouldn’t be kidnapped again. He’d retorted that anything could happen when Maguires were about.

Her mum and Leah still didn’t know what had really happened during those lost days when they’d fought against Alex Maguire. She’d explained away the scar on her throat as the result of an operation she’d had due to an injury she’d sustained in the fire that had burnt their home to the ground, a fire that had been started by Alex. He was dead at Ryan’s hand, his remains secretly buried in Frank’s grave. His absence had naturally been noted in Manchester and, after the police had found his severed hand in an alley, they’d wasted no time launching an inquest and the coroner had been very pleased to declare him dead at the insistence of senior police officers who’d investigated his disappearance. No one mourned his loss.

Her mum and daughter had accepted her explanation about her scar, although occasionally she did catch Leah staring at it, attempting to puzzle out what had really happened. Rachel swore she would never know that Alex had slit her throat.

She took the black lace choker she used to hide the scar out of her handbag and replaced it around her neck. Looking at it no longer filled her with horror, she’d just accepted it was a part of her now. To her it represented what she’d endured and was a constant reminder that those you loved and trusted most could easily turn on you. She’d never fully trust anyone again except her husband. The scar was also very useful as an intimidation tactic. People saw it and she knew they were thinking this woman survived having her throat cut, so what else was she capable of? It just added to the hard bitch image and she used it to her advantage.

“Will this do?” said Ryan, climbing back into the driver’s seat clutching a white blouse.

“Fine. Close the door, you’re letting in a draught.”

He handed her the blouse and shut the door.

“Anybody outside?” she said, readjusting her seat to its original position.

“No, all clear.”

Hastily she sat up, removed the ripped shirt and pulled on the fresh one, Ryan watching with a smile.

“What are you grinning at?” she said.

“Just thinking of the eyeful anyone driving past will get.”

“Thanks to you and your excess of testosterone. That was one of my favourite tops.”

“Worth it though.”

He leaned across to kiss her, undoing the buttons she’d just fastened up.

“Will you please stop it, we’ve got a plane to catch,” she smiled, half-heartedly batting his hands away.

A knock on the passenger window made them both freeze, Rachel tilting herself towards Ryan and frantically fastening up the rest of the buttons. “Oh shit, who’s that?” she said.

“The police,” he sighed.

“What do they want?”

“My guess is someone saw us.”

“Crap. I knew I heard voices.” She smoothed down her shirt, ran a hand through her hair then wound down the window, putting on her best casual smile. “Is something wrong Officer?”

“We’ve had a report of indecent exposure,” replied the stern-faced bushy eyebrowed man.

“As you can see we’re fully clothed,” replied Rachel in a light, carefree voice.

“We were informed a couple in a vehicle with this licence plate were engaged in…intercourse,” he ended with a frown, as though the word offended him.

“At the side of a road Officer? I mean really, do we look like we can’t control ourselves? I admit we had a quick kiss but that was all.” She hoped he didn’t stick his head further into the window because the car reeked of hot, frantic sex.

“You two married?” he glowered.

“Yes.”

“To each other?”

“Yes.”

He spotted the torn blouse on the back seat and his eyebrows knitted even tighter, resembling a pair of grey caterpillars butting heads. “I’d like to see some ID please.”

“Certainly,” replied Rachel with a smile while beside her Ryan sighed in irritation and made a show of looking at his watch.

They both handed over their driver’s licences and he studied them suspiciously, eyes flicking to the wedding bands on their fingers.

“That seems to be in order,” he said, handing back the licences.

“Thank you,” replied Rachel.

“Now if you’d follow me back to the police station I can formally interview you.”

“You just said everything was in order,” she retorted.

“I’ve established who you are but a complaint has been made and I must investigate.”