Revenge (34 page)

Chapter Ninety-Nine

Jessie was frightened and cold. She was also starving, which amazed her because she didn’t think food would be high up on her priority list. But it was. She didn’t eat that regularly anyway but, for the first time in years, her stomach felt empty; the hunger like a gnawing pain inside her. Her arms and legs were tied, and it was so painful; every time she tried to move her body, a burning pain shot through her limbs.

She was terrified. It was so very dark. She felt tears running down her face, and she forced herself to stop them. She wasn’t going to cry, that wasn’t sensible; she couldn’t afford to let her emotions get the better of her. She was going to keep her wits about her, and try and work out what the situation actually was. If this was a kidnapping, which she doubted, whoever had organised it had better take the money and run as fast as possible. Her dad wouldn’t let something like this go unpunished – he would take it very personally, see it as an act of treason against him, and all he stood for.

The pain was shooting through her skull again, and it was so acute she closed her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip, trying to ride it out. It was a losing battle – the pain was too intense. She felt herself losing consciousness again, and she didn’t try to fight it this time. Her head was aching so badly, but at least it had stopped bleeding.

She embraced the sleep that washed over her; she was glad of it, even though she knew it wasn’t natural.

Chapter One Hundred

‘I have already got people out there searching for her, the Old Bill included, useless fuckers that they are. But I swear on my fucking eyesight, when I find out what’s gone down, I will fucking kill the bastards responsible with my bare hands. How dare they! How dare anyone think they could touch my daughter and live to tell the fucking tale!’

Michael was stalking around the office of the nightclub in Ilford. He was so angry he couldn’t even breathe properly. There was no doubt in his mind now; his Jessie was missing. It was over three days, and that wasn’t normal, even for her. She was a fucking nuisance, living her life like a fucking hippy but, as much as she thought she was some kind of enigma, she was actually very predictable. Not that he would ever explain that to her, the dozy little mare. It suited him for her to think she was a fucking maverick, a fucking independent woman. As if. Without him and his protection she would have gone under a long time ago. She had more problems than the euro and, in real life, if she had to sort things out for herself, she would be seriously fucked. But she was still his baby, and he couldn’t turn his back on her.

Declan Costello watched Michael as he stalked around the small office; it was unusual to see him so flustered. He always kept his cool, no matter what happened. But this was different, Declan understood that; this was about his kid.

Declan sat back in his chair, heart-sorry for his friend. ‘It can’t be a kidnapping, Michael – you’d have heard from them by now. It’s fucking mental! No one can just disappear like that.’

Michael sighed heavily. ‘That’s just it though, Declan – they can.’

Declan knew what Michael was trying to say, and he shook his huge head violently in denial. Who would bother to kill Jessie? People disappeared, that was a given, but there was always a reason.

‘Fuck off, Michael! Will you listen to yourself? Why on earth would anyone want to kill young Jessie? It’s ludicrous.’

Michael Flynn stood in front of his old friend, and he said honestly, ‘Think about it, Declan. You know what she’s like. I want to kill her myself half the time. She’s got a fresh mouth on her, she talks to people like they’re shit. I warned her time and again that, one day, if she wasn’t careful, her big mouth would get her into real trouble. She pushes everything, pushes everyone.’

Declan laughed. ‘Can you hear yourself, Michael? Ninety-nine per cent of the population couldn’t kill a fucking earwig unless they had to. It’s why people like us can do what we do. But you have to remember that there is no one on this planet who would dare to touch a hair on your daughter’s head. She knows that herself – why do you think she acts like she does? For all her fucking arrogance, she knows that without your name she wouldn’t last five minutes.’

Declan could see the real fear in Michael’s face, could almost feel the worry the man had for his only child. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve any of this. Michael Flynn, for all his faults, was basically a decent man, a good man where it counted. Even
he
acknowledged that, and he had been on the receiving end of the man’s temper.

‘You haven’t even had a stand-off with anyone for years, Michael, so this can’t be about payback, can it?’

Michael could see that Declan was speaking sense, but it didn’t take the fear out of his chest. He had traced her calls, and there had been nothing for days to or from her number. Her ‘friends’ – and he used the word loosely – had been as baffled as he was about her whereabouts.

The office door opened, and Michael smiled nastily as Jonny Parsons was pushed into the room roughly. He tripped over his own feet, and just about stopped himself from falling flat on his face. He was absolutely terrified; that was more than evident to both the other men in the small room. The man looked what he was: a cheap imitation, a wannabe gangster, a fucking thug.

Jonny looked at Michael Flynn’s hard face, and his heart stopped in his chest. He hadn’t realised the power that the man radiated, the menace that surrounded him. This was what he had wanted: a meeting with Michael Flynn. It was why he had romanced Jessie, but he had not understood until now exactly what that entailed.

Michael Flynn towered over him and, in the confines of the room, the man looked almost demonic. It was easy to see why people were so wary of crossing him, why he had accumulated so much power over the years, why he was so respected by everyone around him. He was the main man throughout Europe, the boss of everyone around him, and that was not an easy task.

He could see Declan Costello sitting behind the desk like a big, overweight leprechaun, all smiles and expectation. Declan was watching him closely, waiting to see what was going to happen and, by the looks of him, he was going to enjoy it.

Jonny Parsons felt trapped. He just stood there like a fool, unable to talk or move.

Michael was looking at the man who had slept with his young daughter, his only child. He wasn’t impressed with what he was seeing; in fact, he was disgusted. Jonny Parsons was forty if he was a day, his hair was cut like a teenager’s, he was dressed in cheap knock-offs – even the man’s Rolex was a cheap imitation.

Worst of all was that Jonny Parsons was without any kind of decency. The man was a complete and utter coward. Yet his daughter had taken this man into her bed. It galled him that she could lower herself to this level.

He poked his finger hard into the man’s chest, making him lose his balance once more. He could feel the terror coming off him in waves, and he was glad. At least he had reason to let the man know what he truly thought of him.

‘I’m looking for my daughter, Jessie Flynn. I assume you remember her? Do you know where she is?’

Jonny Parsons’ mouth was so dry he wasn’t sure if he could actually form any words.

Michael was enjoying every second of Jonny’s discomfort, and he bellowed into his face suddenly, ‘Are you fucking deaf? You useless cunt! I just asked you a fucking question.’

Jonny Parsons was shaking his head in denial, wondering how he had ever thought that, by using Jessie Flynn as a stepping stone, he could have somehow gained an entry into this man’s world. He must have been off his head to have even contemplated it.

‘No, Mr Flynn, I swear to you. I haven’t seen her since last week.’

Michael sighed. The man was a fucking complete imbecile. What the fuck was Jessie thinking about? Didn’t she even
look
at the men she slept with?

‘You haven’t spoken to her or called her – I already fucking know that. I just want to know if you’ve seen her, or spoken to anyone who has?’

Jonny Parsons was shaking his head vehemently. ‘No. Nothing. Not a word. I ain’t heard anything about her from anyone either.’

Michael turned around, and looked at Declan in abject disbelief. ‘What a fucking Casanova this cunt is, Declan. He fucks them and leaves them by the sounds of it.’

Jonny was in deep trouble, and he didn’t know what he could do to help himself. If he had any information about Jessie he would happily tell her father.

Michael shook his head sadly, and Declan knew what was coming next. The first punch lifted Jonny Parsons off his feet, and opened up a large gash in his right eyebrow. Michael watched the man go down. He collapsed on to the floor and, curling himself up into a tight ball, he tried to protect his head with his arms. Michael looked at the man for a few seconds, then used his feet and, as he kicked his daughter’s bedmate over and over again, he was glad to be able to vent some of his anger. He had sussed Jonny Parsons out, knew the man had bragged about his relationship with his daughter, had seen her as his passport into the big time. He wasn’t the first idiot to think that and, unfortunately, he probably wouldn’t be the last. But it felt good hurting him, reminding the man of who he was dealing with.

Declan watched everything with his usual calm. He had been on the other end of Michael’s anger himself, and he knew how violent it could be. Michael needed to vent his spleen – it would do him the world of good.

Declan waited until Michael’s anger was spent before he stepped in. Jonny Parsons was a bloody mess and, pulling Michael away from the man firmly, he sat him down behind the desk. Then, going to the office door, he opened it and called in a couple of the bouncers. They knew the score as soon as they stepped into the room, and they picked up Jonny Parsons without any words needing to be spoken.

Declan shut the door behind them and, turning to Michael, he said carefully, ‘Feeling better, are we? Now, we need to think about this logically, Michael.’

Michael sat forward in the old typist’s chair and, holding his head in his hands, he said brokenly, near to tears, ‘That’s just it, there’s
no
fucking logic to it, Declan. That’s the problem. I know in my guts that this is fucking serious. This is fucking personal. This is not about my Jessie. How can it be? You said it yourself. Who would fucking dare to touch my daughter?’

Declan could see the man’s point, but he still wasn’t convinced. Michael Flynn had the Colombians behind him; there wasn’t anyone who had the guts to take him on. He was too protected, too respected. He ran his empire fairly and squarely, and he made sure that everyone he was involved with earned so much they were loyal to him. Michael Flynn entertained some of the most dangerous men in the world. It was terrible to see him like this, so vulnerable, so worried.

‘Look, Michael, what if she’s shacked up somewhere, oblivious to all that’s going on? You know what she’s like.’

Michael looked at his old friend, and he sighed heavily. ‘I hope you’re right, Declan, I really do. But something is telling me, inside, that’s not the case. She’s in trouble. I just know it.’

Chapter One Hundred
and One

Jake was all smiles, his happiness contagious. Josephine was watching him drawing pictures and, as he finished each one, he showed them to her with a flourish.

‘That’s you and Granddad eating your dinner!’

Josephine couldn’t help but laugh – he had captured them perfectly. She looked at the drawing and saw herself and her husband sitting on her bed together, with plates on their laps. Then she saw that Jake had drawn himself on a chair all alone, watching them. He wasn’t smiling. He looked sad.

‘Why do you look so sad, Jake?’

He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I’m waiting for my mummy, of course. But she didn’t come.’

Josephine felt so sorry for her little lad. ‘I told you, Jake. Your mummy has to work a lot.’

He carried on drawing, but he didn’t answer her. She could slap her daughter sometimes for the worry she caused. And now she was missing, and it was worrying them all. She had heard nothing from her daughter for nearly four days and, like Michael, Josephine was beginning to be seriously concerned.

Dana came into the room beaming, and when Josephine saw the way that Jake reacted to her, she felt a stab of jealousy.

‘Come on, you. It’s your bath time, mister.’

Jake got up from the floor, abandoning his drawing without a thought. ‘Can I play with my toys?’

Dana picked him up effortlessly. He was a big child for his age, but Dana didn’t seem to notice that; she still treated him like a baby. ‘’Course you can! They are all there waiting for you!’

‘See you later, Nana!’

Josephine waved to him, and watched as they left the room together. She knelt down on the rug, and busied herself tidying his paper and pencils away. Then she carefully picked up his sweet wrappers – fun-size Snickers and a Milky Way – and folded both of them neatly, before placing them into one of the boxes scattered around the room.

Glancing at herself in the mirror of her dressing table, she checked over her appearance. She looked perfect, which pleased her. She picked up her lipstick from the dressing table, and ran it over her lips quickly. The action alone calmed her, made her feel better in herself. She gained a lot of comfort from doing familiar things. Her doctor said it was about control, but she couldn’t see that herself. She just liked the feeling of ease it gave her; there was a lot to be said for order, having a routine. She couldn’t cope without it.

She sat down in her chair once more and glanced around, mentally counting the boxes in her room, and running through their contents in her head.

She picked up her glass of red wine from the small antique table beside her chair and sipped it, savouring its warmth. She didn’t see clutter around her or chaos – what she saw was her possessions, things she loved and needed. Today she needed the comfort more than ever. But no matter how hard she tried to calm herself and tell herself that Michael was right, she didn’t need to worry, her daughter’s disappearance
did
worry her – greatly. She knew that Jessie wouldn’t do this to her mother without good reason.