Reckoning (34 page)

CHAPTER 34

“Mikey, good to see you,” said Isaac Jones, heartily shaking his hand. Isaac had just turned forty years old and his face told a story of a life lived dangerously, his expression hard, a small scar under his left eye from a knife attack. But he was an attractive man, his suit rivalling Mikey’s in style and expense. His black dreadlocks were now dusted with grey and were tied back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“And you Isaac, although I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

“Sorry to hear about what that bastard Slattery’s done to your cousin. That’s just low.”

“Any idea where he’s holding her?”

“One of two places. It’s either a warehouse he owns in the heart of the city or the Homestead, his base of operations. Personally I’d go for the Homestead, my men report there’s been a lot of activity around there of late.”

“Then let’s go.”

“Just hold your horses there Mikey,” said Isaac, putting a hand on his arm when he made for Isaac’s car. “The Homestead is very well guarded. A full on assault will get us nowhere.”

“Then what do you suggest?” he said, trying not to sound impatient.

“We need to draw Slattery out and capture him. Then we can go to work on him and make him tell us where she is, as well as other things I want to know.”

“Sounds good.”

“Just one last thing,” he said, still holding onto Mikey, who contained the sigh wanting to escape his lips. “I’m going to bring Slattery down one way or the other. You’ll give us the back-up you promised?”

“Damn right I will. Do you think we want him around after this?”

Isaac’s dark eyes scrutinised him closely before he nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“What are you doing back? I thought you were meeting a man about a heroin deal?” said Tanya when Jared strolled into the house, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“It got called off. Silly sod drove his car into a fucking tree.”

“Is he alright?”

He shrugged. “Intensive care. Prick.”

“Oh,” Tanya replied before returning to her magazine. “Where are you going?” she called when he made for the stairs.

“To see Jules. Don’t Mum,” he added when she tutted from behind the glossy pages.

“She’s nothing but trouble, I wish you could see that.”

“Maybe I will one day but until then I’m going to enjoy her. Don’t ruin this for me, it’s the first time I’ve felt like this.”

She put aside the magazine and regarded her son with a fond smile. “I know sweetheart and I’m happy for you, I only wish she was worthy of you but then again, I’m not sure any woman is. At least Jules isn’t a prostitute.”

He just smiled and shook his head before sauntering upstairs, whistling happily to himself. As he walked down the corridor and saw Irina was absent from her post instinct told him something was wrong and he pelted towards Jules’s door, almost falling over Irina lying in the doorway. Jules was gone.

“Where is she?” he roared.

Irina pushed herself up to a sitting position, face bruised and swollen. “She pretend she sick. When I come in she attack me.”

He grabbed her by both shoulders and shook her. “You stupid, stupid bitch.”

“Ow, you hurt me.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Which way did she go?”

Irina waved a hand in the direction Jules had gone and Jared threw her to the floor and raced off. Irina curled into a ball, fighting back the tears. Jules had been right. “She took my phone,” she called after him, hoping that titbit would convince him not to kill her for her treachery.

Jules wished she could have changed into something more comfortable for her escape but that luxury had been denied her so she was going to have to ride the bike in a stupid short pink skirt. She found a Kevlar jacket that was miles too big but she pulled it on anyway. The weather might be fine but it would still be cold on a bike. She kicked off the hated stilettos and found a pair of boots that were only a couple of sizes too big. Fortunately she didn’t need to use her feet to ride this bike. Between the boots and the jacket her knees were exposed but she was just going to have to grin and bear it. Finding a weapon would be a good idea, so she had a quick scout about the garage but the only thing she could find was a bit of lead piping lying abandoned on the floor, so she stuffed that inside her jacket. She found a lid and released a small whoop of delight.

“Yes, it’s got Bluetooth,” she grinned, taking out the phone she’d stolen. “Shit, what’s Mikey’s number?” She took a minute to calm herself and recall it, grateful that once a number was in her head it stayed there and she programmed it into Irina’s phone.

After pulling on the helmet - that was likewise a little too big - Jules started the engine. Some fool had left the keys in the ignition. So much for Jared Slattery’s amazing security. She smiled, loving the purr as the bike burst into life, seething, impatient to be out on the road. Only when the engine had settled down to a steady hum did she quietly raise the main garage door leading down the drive and out to the main road and freedom. No more high heels, no more pinks and pastels. Fucking fantastic.

She jumped on the bike, ignoring the rip of the skirt, kicked up the stand and she was off. Jules wasn’t used to sports bikes, she liked her big, meaty custom bikes but she quickly got the feel of it.

As the visor was up she was able to hear the shout.

“Oy, get back here.”

Jared was standing at the top of the drive, staring at her with his mouth open.

“Bye lover boy,” she called before snapping the visor down, revving the engine and shooting forward. She shot through the gate and out onto the road, yelling joyfully into the helmet.

The only way Jules could turn outside the Homestead was right as left led straight into a field, so she took that route, not caring about the speed limit in her haste to escape the house of freaks. She’d never been to Essex before so she wasn’t familiar with the area but for now all she wanted to do was put as much distance as possible between her and the Slatterys.

“Mikey,” she said into the microphone contained in the helmet.

Ringing filled her ear and she was just about to give up all hope when Mikey’s voice burst into life in her ear. “Hello?” he said suspiciously.

“Fuck me Mikey, it’s good to hear your voice,” she grinned.

“Jules,” he cried so loud her ear buzzed. “Where the hell are you?”

“Not a bloody clue. There’s lots of trees and fields. All I know is I’m in Essex.”

“You’ll have to round it down a bit. Any idea of the area?”

“Nope, no idea.”

“Stay on the line, let me know which way you go and I’ll meet you there.”

“Wait a sec, are you in Essex?”

“Yeah.”

Jules smiled at the grin in his voice. “How did you know?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you when we get you back. Can you see any road signs?”

“Nope, there’s sod all.” At the sound of a screaming engine she glanced in her mirrors and saw a black Ninja rapidly catching up with her, a huge figure on the back. “I think Jared’s chasing me. He’s got a lid on but I’m pretty sure it’s him.” When the figure drew a gun any doubt she had was eradicated. “Yep, it’s definitely him. Hang on, he’s shooting at me.”

“What?” yelled Mikey.

“Shut up and let me concentrate,” she said, hunkering down over the bike, weaving left and right so as not to give him an easy target. She didn’t think he was trying to hit her, his aim was way off, he was just giving her a warning. It was vital she find a main road with cars so he’d be forced to put the gun away. A sign said Pleshey and as it was the first one she’d seen she followed it, praying they got off these winding little roads before Jared shot her tyres out.

“Jules?” demanded Mikey.

“I’m still here. I’m heading to somewhere called Pleshey.”

There was the exchange of voices and Mikey came back on the line. “We’re about twenty minutes from there. Soon you should reach the a-thirteen so he won’t be able to shoot at you on there. If you reach Pleshey before us just stay in the village. There’s a pub called The Leather Bottle. We’ll meet you there.”

“Okay little cuz. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too. Stay on the line with me.”

“Sorry Boss, I need to concentrate,” she said before ending the call. His voice made her heart soar but it was distracting her and this was one ride she needed to stay focused for.

The phone crackled into life again, ringing in her ear. She determined to ignore it but it must have been on automatic answer because it connected within three rings.

“Where do you think you’re going?” said a deep voice.

“Jared. Persistent, aren’t you?”

“You need to come home.”

She glanced in her mirrors at the black bike with the hulking black figure crouched over it and pulled a little harder on the throttle. At least he’d lowered the gun. “Listen Jared, I don’t know exactly how your mum damaged you but clearly she has. Don’t you see, it’s not normal.”

“What’s not normal?”

“Kidnapping a woman then dressing her up as your mummy. It’s weird and I’m not going to be a part of it.” She sucked in air sharply as she negotiated a particularly tight bend, having to lean the bike right over onto its left side to avoid going off the road, her bare knee almost grazing the tarmac. Back on the straight she righted the bike and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Impressive move,” said Jared. “Don’t leave me.”

There was something so profoundly sad in his voice that she felt sorry for him. “I have to. This place isn’t for me. I belong in Manchester, with my real family.”

“Come back with me or I’ll kill you,” he growled, getting angry.

In her mirrors she saw him raise the gun. She shot past the sign for the A13, she was so close. Taking a deep breath she pushed the bike forwards even harder, the roar of the engine filling her ears to the extent that she could barely hear Jared anymore. The wind thundered around her and she desperately tried to ignore the chill of it in her knees, which were starting to ache.

“I hate skirts,” she said to herself, forgetting Jared could hear.

“It’s what women should wear,” he roared down the line, making her ears buzz.

“You really have issues. Seriously Jared, get help. I can recommend a good psychiatrist,” she said, her tone mocking.

“Ungrateful slag. I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“End call,” she said, cutting the connection.

Jules shot past the sign indicating the A13, feeling breathless, her hands starting to sweat in the oversized gloves. There was a loud crack as Jared loosed another shot but Jules had reached the turn that would take her onto the A13 and Jared followed, forced to stuff the gun out of sight in his jacket.

Jules hunkered down even further, trying to flatten herself as much as possible against the bike as she wove in and out of the traffic, which wasn’t busy enough to cause any hold-ups but was dense enough to stop Jared from pursuing her too closely. There were speed cameras on this road and the last thing either of them wanted was to draw attention to themselves by being snapped or, even worse, pulled by the police.

The ringing started up again in her helmet and once again it automatically answered.

“Jules, are you still alive?”

“Yes Mikey, I am.”

“I tried calling but it was engaged.”

“I had Jared on the line, the helmets must be linked. I’m on the a-thirteen so he’s had to stop shooting at me but I can’t stay on this road forever.”

“You’ll have to go through five roundabouts.”

“Five?” she exclaimed. “That’s just sadistic.”

“Jared might try to cut you up, anything to stop you leaving. Don’t let him.”

“I’m doing my best. I’m coming up to the first roundabout now.”

“Good. Stay on the line with me.”

“No can do, you’re too distracting.”

“Jules, wait…”

“End call.”

She was forced to roll to a halt at the roundabout to allow a truck to rumble past. Jared pulled up beside her and - she had to admit - he looked pretty fine in his black leather and matching helmet. He snapped up the visor, his eyes homing straight in on her.

“Come back with me,” he called.

“I can’t. I don’t belong here.”

“Yes you do, with me.”

“I’m going home Jared.” She glanced sideways as a second truck lumbered round the bend. “It’s been fun. Goodbye.”

Pulling back hard on the throttle she shot across the roundabout, the truck blaring its horn as she sped past it so close she could feel the heat from the grille then she was exiting on the other side, leaving Jared stuck behind the truck. Deciding to take a chance, she opened up the throttle, breaking the seventy mph speed limit, dodging in and out of the traffic, swearing into the helmet at all the idiotic drivers around her, none of whom seemed to possess enough brain cells to drive a car.

Three rings in her helmet then Jared’s voice returned. “I can still see you.”