Diamonds Forever (19 page)

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Authors: Justine Elyot

BOOK: Diamonds Forever
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‘Hey, don't shoot the messenger,' he said. ‘But I've been there, remember. In the end, you last as long as your effect on her ego. When your success reaches a level where you can do without her – that's when she loses interest. Watch and see.'

‘Fuck off.'

Jason couldn't look at him. He went back to the window, brooding; the insecurity that lay always just beneath his surface fully reawakened.

‘That's not the way she sees it,' he said eventually. ‘She told me you started shagging around because you couldn't stand her making a go of her own career. You did it to get her attention. Sad.'

‘To get her attention, maybe,' said Deano, but his voice was ragged with anger, despite his attempts to maintain a civilised veneer. ‘To get a bit of heat out of that cold, cold fish.'

Jason swung around, his fists clenched.

‘Don't,' he warned. ‘Just don't, OK?'

‘She's got her hooks right into you, hasn't she?'

‘If she was so wrong for you, why do you want her back then? Eh?'

‘Because there's nobody else for me,' hissed Deano, standing up himself.

The pair of them squared up, eye to eye, nose to nose, Jason having a slight height advantage, Deano wiry and quick.

For a few loaded seconds, violence fizzed in the air.

Then Jason stepped back and reached into his back pocket for his phone. Damn. He'd left it at the Hall.

‘Fuck it,' he muttered. ‘I'm getting out of here. How far out of Bledburn is this place? I'm going to have to walk it.'

‘I've no idea where we are,' Deano admitted, wandering over to the shelf in search of a top-up for his glass.

‘Jenna'll be wondering where I've got to.' He paused, chewing his lip. ‘I lost my temper and walked out,' he admitted. ‘You probably don't know about it yet, but you soon will. There was a bit of a problem with a photo going up on Facebook …'

‘I know,' said Deano heavily. ‘Did you put it up?'

‘No. It was an accident. We were messing about with the phone and … anyway, I'd better get back.'

But Jason opened the door to find a pair of heavy-set men in the corridor outside, accompanied by Harville.

‘'Scuse me,' he said, but the men didn't stand aside.

Come to think of it, he recognised them. He'd seen them around the estate. They did stuff for Harville – security and whatnot. His goons.

‘You can't be leaving without saying goodbye, surely,' said Harville, swanning into the room. ‘I don't know. Coming to my home, drinking my whiskey … It's true what they say about that estate, boys.' He paused, looking Jason in the eye. ‘Scum, the lot of them.'

‘Yeah, well, it runs in the family,' said Jason, wishing immediately that he hadn't. Harville looked puzzled, but he didn't pursue the reference.

Instead he ushered his goons into the room and shut the door behind them all.

‘Look, Lawrence, I ought to be getting back,' said Deano, his expression uneasy. ‘Parker and the guys will be going crazy. She hates it if I even go to the bathroom without my bodyguards, let alone …'

‘Oh, just another ten minutes, please,' said Lawrence. ‘And help yourself to whiskey. I got that in just for you. I read it was your favourite.'

‘Thanks, but …'

‘Ten minutes.'

Deano flicked his gaze from Lawrence to the goons to the whiskey bottle.

He plumped for the bottle and poured from it, shaking his head.

‘You see, Deano, I had a thought – a thought that might work very well for you,' continued Lawrence. ‘Do you remember when we were in the car and I surprised you by encouraging our friend here to, ah, express his emotions?'

‘You told him to hit me!' recalled Deano, affronted.

‘Yes, but there was method to the madness, and the more I think about it, the more convinced I am. If Scumbag there
does
attack you, then he goes straight inside and you have a wonderful opportunity to gain the sympathy and perhaps eventual affections of your estranged wife. After all, she'll soon realise that she's been wasting her time when she sees what a thug she's been involved with. And what better to bring back the old feelings than seeing you with a few cuts and bruises, victimised? They love a victim, after all, don't they? The ladies?'

‘What are you
on
?' moaned Jason, trying to tough his way past the goons, but they took hold of his arms, preventing him from moving.

Deano drained his drink, looking as wary as a man who had just downed four-and-a-half measures of a strong single malt possibly could.

‘I don't like this,' he said. ‘It's dodgy. I see your reasoning though. Thanks for thinking of me, but …'

‘Think about it,' entreated Lawrence.

‘You want me to let Jason rough me up? I don't want to get roughed up.'

‘And I don't want to do it either,' contributed Jason, though he sensed he would have little choice in the matter if the balance of Deano's decision was tipped the wrong way.

‘Of course it'll involve a little bit of discomfort,' said Lawrence. ‘But think of the advantage. Think of the amazing press you'll get too. It'll be great for album sales. Jenna will run back to you with open arms. Everything in the garden rosy again.'

‘And what's in it for you?' asked Deano, frowning.

‘She rides off into the sunset with you and I get my home back,' he replied promptly. ‘Not to mention the collateral pleasure of revenge on this little turd.'

Jason was dismayed to see that Deano appeared to be giving the proposition his serious consideration.

‘He's mental,' he blurted. ‘Don't do it. He doesn't care about you, or Jenna, or any of us.'

This seemed to kick-start Deano's moral compass.

‘No, he's right,' he said. ‘It's too risky. Too much could go wrong. And no guarantee Jenna would fall for it either. Sorry, mate, but I'm out.'

The goons closed ranks.

‘Are you sure about that?' asked Lawrence, his voice silk laced with poison. ‘You see, I've been talking to your friend Parker. In fact, more than talking. I sold her some of her favourite nice white powder, for you and her to share tonight. And I happened to carelessly leave my phonecam running while I did it.'

There was a stunned silence.

‘You did what?' said Deano weakly.

‘There's footage of Parker taking the stuff off me – and the conversation makes it very clear what it is and who it's for. In fact, she tells a delightful anecdote about you snorting it off her breasts one night. It would make any tabloid journalist worth their salt scream for joy. And I know a few journalists …'

‘Why would you even …?'

‘It's the Harville code,' said Lawrence, grinning. ‘Always make sure you have something on everyone. Even if you can't see how you'll use it to begin with. Insurance. It's my business.' He tapped the side of his nose.

Deano, summoning some bravado from somewhere, laughed.

‘And do you know what my business is, Harville? I'm a rock star. I booze, I shag around, I snort a few lines. It's expected of me. Who exactly are you expecting to shock with this?'

‘Your friend Parker, presumably,' said Harville without missing a beat. ‘But you don't mind sending a lamb to the slaughter, I suppose?'

There was a silence. Harville's point had hit home.

Deano sighed.

‘Maybe you're right,' he said. ‘Maybe it'll help my cause with Jenna.'

‘That's the way to see it,' approved Harville. ‘A moment of pain for a lifetime of gain.'

‘But if I do this,' said Deano hotly, ‘that's it. You're out of my life. No coming back for more favours. You delete the stuff with Parker off your phone and we start again, as if we'd never met.'

‘Ground zero,' said Lawrence, nodding earnestly. ‘For all of us.'

‘Are you having a fucking laugh?' said Jason desperately, struggling with his captors. ‘This is insane.'

Deano walked over to Jason and stood with his chin raised towards his love rival.

‘Go on then,' he said. ‘One clean punch. Do your worst.'

‘I'm not doing anything,' insisted Jason, but one of the goons aimed such a vicious kick to the back of his knee that he staggered and lost his footing, crying out in anguish.

‘You'll do as you're told,' said Lawrence softly. ‘And then all this will be over, and you'll get out of here alive.'

‘Steady on!' exclaimed Deano. ‘I'm not getting mixed up in any murders.'

‘Figure of speech,' murmured Lawrence.

‘Do it,' growled a goon, releasing Jason's arm but keeping a tight hold on the back of his neck. ‘Take a swing at him.'

‘Jenna's a tramp,' said Deano suddenly, putting his face close to Jason's. ‘She must be, to shack up with a piece of scum like you. I bet she was all over you. Nice bit of rough. If only I'd known that was what she liked, I needn't have bothered trying to work out what was wrong between us. I could have just bussed in some bums from Skid Row to keep her happy … Oof.'

But his exclamation was nothing to do with Jason hitting him.

Jason had lashed out, yes, but Deano had ducked and sprang away from him, to aim as fierce a blow as he could to one of the goons.

The goon had seen it coming, quick as it was, and knocked Deano to the floor.

‘Shit!' shouted Lawrence, running over to the motionless figure of Deano. ‘What have you done?'

‘He was going to have a go at me!' whined the goon. ‘He was trying to get one over on us.'

‘Christ, have you killed him?'

Lawrence leant over Deano, feeling for a pulse.

The goons joined him, too anxious and guilty to notice Jason slipping away into the hallway behind.

When Deano woke up, he had no idea where he was.

Everything was a blur – as much in his head as in front of his eyes, and besides, it was dark. There was a smell of damp in the air, though – he was sure of that, and a sense that he wasn't alone. He heard the shifting of fabric beside him, a person in motion, then a voice.

‘What happened to you?'

‘Who's that? Where am I? Fuck, my head!'

He clutched it, gasping, and gave up his attempt to sit.

‘I'm Kayley – remember me?'

A sense of grateful pleasure appeared amidst all the bad feelings. Kayley. Yes. This was good.

‘Yes,' he said. ‘Yes, I do.'

More bad memories amongst the good.

‘I suppose you hate me for what I did? Going up to the Hall?'

‘Yeah, well, you lost me my job, but never mind that. You're in a hell of a state. What happened?'

‘I don't know his name, but whoever he is, he's got a right hook straight out of
Raging Bull
.'

‘Out of what?'

‘You don't know that movie? About a boxing champion?'

‘Oh, right, I get it. But I still don't get what you're doing in here.'

‘No, neither do I. And I don't know what you're doing here either. Are you mixed up with Harville? Do you work for him? Where
is
this place?'

He managed to sit up this time, and make out Kayley's eyes in the gloom.

‘Your guess is as good as mine, duck. And me, work for Harville – do I fuck? No chance. Never in a million years.'

‘So, what …?'

‘He's been out to get me ever since I grassed him up, to get Jason out of bother. And now he's got me.'

‘So, are you saying he's, like, keeping you prisoner?'

‘Certainly looks like it. Unless he wants me as a pet.'

‘So then
I'm
…?'

‘I don't know but it's not exactly the kind of accommodation you're used to, is it, love? Where's the en suite? I'd complain to the management if I were you.'

He laughed weakly, enjoying Kayley's down to earth black humour despite their dire straits, but sobered rapidly once the pain came clanging back into the side of his head.

‘But he can't do this,' he whimpered. ‘What on earth is he playing at? He can't do this to
me
. I'm Deano Diamond!'

‘Yeah, well, you might be surprised to know that I'm human too, but apparently it's OK to chuck me in a cellar,' said Kayley.

‘I didn't mean that … It's outrageous behaviour, no matter who …'

‘Yeah, sorry. Just feeling a bit sensitive. It is hard to see how he could get away with doing this to you. I mean, people care what happens to you, don't they? Lots of people. I wouldn't worry. The feds'll be all over this place like a dose of the clap before you know it.'

‘I hope you're right. What
does
he think he's doing?'

‘Why did he lamp you one? If you don't mind me asking.' Kayley sat herself on the edge of the uncomfortable camp bed.

He could smell the faint remains of her cheap perfume and hear the clanking of a big chunky bracelet. There was something in those twin stimulants that transported him back to his teenage years and made him feel as if anything was possible. Strange for a man lying injured on a camp bed in a locked room.

‘I don't know. It was all a bit chaotic. Harville had some hare-brained scheme to get his revenge on your friend Jason, and I somehow ended up at the sharp end of it.'

‘Jason's here?' Kayley's voice was urgent. ‘In this building? Now?'

‘Well, he
was
. I …' Deano tailed off, the effort of memory putting too much strain on his aching brain cells.

‘That's really weird. What's he doing here? Is he looking for
me
?'

‘No. Harville kind of tricked him into getting into the car with us. Jason didn't realise who I was with at the time.'

‘So he's being kept prisoner here too?'

‘Well, perhaps. I didn't realise the place had a suite of dungeons … You never can tell, can you?'

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