The Rules: A gripping crime thriller that will have you hooked. Kerry Barnes

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СКАЧАТЬ moody bugger Gino has gone. Luckily, the restaurants were locked with a closed sign on the door, or you wouldn’t have a business standing. The looters would have been in.’

      ‘Okay, right, so they haven’t destroyed the business. They, whoever they are, have just run my dealers out of town. That’s not a problem I’m concerned about for now. However, what I am livid over is that they have hurt Neil, and that I won’t take lightly, so I want—’

      Shamus raised his hand. ‘Wait, that’s not all, Zara. Raymondo gave away all the codes to the arcades. Every one of them was robbed in one night. They smashed the feck out of the machines, took all the money, and no one, and I mean no one, has a fecking clue who’s behind it, except we know it’s some black guys.’

      ‘You what? Raymondo? Why did he do that?’

      Shamus lowered his head. ‘’Cos one of the fecking bastards held a fecking knife to his baby’s throat. Some cunt dragged his baby from her pram and held a fecking six-inch blade to her neck.’

      ‘Jesus wept,’ shrieked Zara, her eyes on stalks. ‘Scumbags, fucking scumbags.’ She could feel her anger rising, and her need for answers overruled her patience. ‘What else, Shamus?’

      ‘We’ve had trouble back in Ireland too. It seems more than a coincidence, but that’s just my opinion. We have a set-up, counterfeits, yer know. Well, the two sites got burned down. Our pub, when I say our pub, I mean our meeting ground – Uncle Davey’s office, as he calls it – that too was burned down. So, in short, we’ve been attacked on all sides. Yet this gang or gangs or whoever the feck they are, are going in really heavy, and they are recklessly disrespectful. Jesus Christ, who the feck rips a baby from her pram, eh?’ He rubbed his stubbly chin.

      Zara was taking it all in, her mind processing the ramifications of the reckless takeover. ‘And you seriously have no fucking clue who’s behind it?’

      Shamus shook his head. ‘Only that they’re black, maybe Yardies. Yet, rough as feck they may be, I don’t think they’ve the brain power to run a racket like yours. Sorry, I mean ours. Someone else is backing them, and for the life of us, we don’t know who. We thought since Mikey’s out of prison, he could do some digging. He still knows anyone who’s anyone. Surely, he would have a clue?’

      Zara inhaled a deep lungful of air. ‘No, leave Mike out of it. He’s got his own business to deal with. I’m gonna sort this.’

      Shamus raised his eyebrow as he looked over at the tiny woman. What the hell could she do, really? He didn’t argue but nodded. ‘I’ve got to get back to the hospital. Davey will need a break. He’s been up all night.’

      Zara was staring off into space. Then she jumped out of her thoughts. ‘Shall I come?’

      The offer was kind, but Shamus knew it would only bring further worry. Davey and Neil hadn’t seen the state of Zara. It would just add to their concerns.

CHAPTER SIX

      Mike slowly opened his eyes and blinked furiously at the light. His head was pounding as if it had been clamped in a vice. Knowing if he moved his stomach, he was likely to empty its contents, he decided to stay where he was.

      As he lay there staring up at the ceiling, he tried to recollect last night’s events. The flowing beers had wrecked him. After twelve years with no alcohol, he’d lost track of how many pints he’d consumed. In fact, he couldn’t remember what happened after about four beers. He recalled worrying about Zara and then Eric telling him she’d gone to bed, but that was about it. Slowly, he took two deep breaths and eased himself into an upright position, holding his throbbing temples. Light-headed and feeling nauseous, he knew he would have to make his way to the kitchen and swallow a couple of tablets. His mouth was like the bottom of a parrot’s cage. That mental picture did him no favours and made him almost gag.

      Seconds later, he jumped up and bolted to the cloakroom, where he threw up a bucket-load of London Pride. Hanging on to the bowl, he gasped for breath. ‘Never again,’ he said aloud.

      After he washed his face and cleaned out his mouth, he returned to the lounge and almost stopped dead in his tracks. There, lying on another sofa, was the party girl – Jennifer – barely dressed, her hair covering her face. His mind went back to the events of yesterday evening and his heart sank. Zara. Where was she? He suddenly panicked and hurried up the stairs. Once he reached the top, he swooned. The hangover was still harsh, even though he’d thrown up a year’s worth of drink and food. He paused and slowly opened the bedroom door, but tension gripped his shoulders. Empty. He dashed into the bathroom: ditto. She’d gone. Every possible thought shot through his mind. Zara must have seen him here with Jennifer, half-naked on the sofa. She would then have deduced that he’d shagged the woman, especially since he’d been drunk and after the abstinence of any sex for twelve years and counting. But no way would he do that, not to Zara.

      Shaking with worry and reeling from his hangover, he returned to the lounge and roughly shook Jennifer. ‘Oi, wake up.’

      She stirred, farted, and breathed stale breath into his face.

      ‘Oh, Jesus, give me strength.’ He shook her again. ‘Listen. Get your arse up and off this fucking sofa, will ya!’

      Jennifer opened her eyes, and on seeing Mike’s face, she tried to pass off a sexy, seductive look, yet her false eyelashes had stuck to her cheeks, and her hair was like a net over her face. ‘Morning, Mikey,’ she replied, her voice croaky.

      ‘Get up and get out!’

      He wouldn’t usually talk to a woman like that, but if she was the reason that his Zara wasn’t in the house, then he would snatch her by the hair and physically remove her. ‘Fuck me, what the hell are you doing crashed out in the lounge anyway?’

      He paced the floor, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

      Jennifer stood up, tugged her skirt over her hips, straightened her hair, and sighed. ‘Blimey, don’t I even get a cup of coffee?’

      ‘No, ya fucking don’t!’ he hollered. ‘Why are you even here?’

      She looked Mike up and down. ‘What the fuck, Mikey. You used to be fun. Eric invited me. Bloody hell, we’re practically family, ya know.’

      Rifling through her bag, she pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit one up.

      Mike was irritated. ‘Put that fucker out. Have some respect. This is my mother’s house. Now, before I raise the fucking roof, I wanna know what the fuck you’re doing ’ere, and, for the record, you ain’t family. You’re Teddy’s niece by his sister who fucked off to Manchester, so what are ya doing ’ere?’

      With her hands on her hips, Jennifer was about to launch a mouthful in reply, when Gloria, wrapped in her satin dressing gown, bowled into the room. ‘My flippin’ head. Whose idea was it to drink a bottle of champagne? That’s it. Never again.’ She stopped and tilted her head to the side. Seeing her son standing there with no top on and Jennifer still in her clothes from the night before, Gloria looked suspiciously at Mike. ‘Er, where’s Eric?’ she snapped.

      Jennifer gave her a dismissive hand gesture. ‘Upstairs, I guess. I dunno. I crashed down ’ere, with ol’ misery guts.’

      ‘You what!’ Gloria shouted. ‘Where’s Zara? Mikey?’

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