Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
My heart pounding anxiously.
* * *
I drive around for an hour with one of Maggie’s muslin cloths held at my nose, trying to stop it bleeding. Definitely broken. I call Mum to check if she’s gone home. “What’s going on?” she asks. “I’ve had Brad on the phone demanding the whereabouts of everyone too.”
I don’t have the energy or capacity to wonder why. I need to find Rose. “Everything is fine, Mum,” I assure her half-heartedly. “Do you have enough milk for Maggie?”
“I have plenty. Danny, do not leave me in the dark.”
I sigh, relenting. She’ll find out sooner or later. “On the night I went after Sandy, after I found out he was the man who raped Rose . . .” When I found out he’s my son’s biological father. My hands turn white around the wheel. Sandy can never know about Daniel.
“What about it?”
“He got away.”
“What?”
“He got away, Mum.” I will never forgive myself for letting that happen. For going after him without thinking about it carefully. For putting myself and everyone else at risk. If Brad, James, and the others hadn’t turned up, I would be dead, no doubt. And as if to remind me that I didn’t walk away scot-free, all three bullet holes twinge their presence.
“Oh my God.”
I take a left, still searching for my wife. “Some bodies have turned up. Russian and Mexican—all with the Black family emblem cut into the chests.”
“Oh, Danny.”
“My phone’s been bugged, and Sandy’s called me to make sure I know he’s still holding a grudge.” The phone crackles a little. “Mum?”
“Did you know about this?” she hisses, her voice muffled. Because she’s covering the bottom with a palm. Talking to Otto.
“Now come on, Boo,” he says, pacifying her. “You know we like to keep you girls away from the—”
“You should have told me!”
I shake my head, dumping the red-stained cloth on the passenger seat, wrinkling my nose, waiting for the flow to start again. It doesn’t. “Mum,” I say, raising my voice to get her attention and the heat off Otto. “Call me if she shows up, okay?”
She doesn’t answer me, but hangs up, and I reach back to my nape, stroking it. I hit James’s number on the control display. “How did it go?” he asks.
I laugh, because it’s all I feel capable of right now.
“Oh fuck,” James breathes.
“What?” I hear Beau say in the background, her senses not failing her. “What’s going on, James?”
He hushes her. I can’t imagine that will go down well. “You know,” I breathe, still scanning the sidewalks as I drive, “she actually thought I was going to tell her I was fucking another woman.”
“What?”
“Yep.” I laugh, with zero amusement. “She thought, because she can’t put out at the moment after giving birth to my daughter, that I would stray.”
“Danny, she’s understandably emotional at the moment.”
“That was before I told her about Sandy,” I yell, laughing again. “The Sandy thing was the icing on the cake. Fuck me, I can’t do right for doing wrong.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She left the restaurant.”
“And you didn’t stop her?”
I shrink into my seat. “I was busy,” I say quietly, full of regret.
“Doing—”
“Threatening three men who stuck their noses into my business.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“And now she’s out there alone somewhere, Sandy’s on the loose, not to mention the Mexicans, and—” I slam the ball of my palm into the steering wheel. “I can’t believe she thinks I could fuck another woman!” I take a hard right and put my foot down.
“Well, that’s my romantic sunset ride with my wife and our bump out on the water done with. Meet me at the club.”
“You got Tank?”
“Yeah.”
“And Fury?”
“With Pearl.”
“See you soon.” I hang up and dial Fury. “Meet me at the club now,” I order, putting my foot down.
I’ve called her another three times by the time I get to Hiatus. I check my face in the rearview mirror, cursing as I rub the dried blood away. There’s no bruising or swelling. Yet. I get out and look down my cream jacket. “Fuck it.” I wriggle out of the blood-stained piece and throw it on the back seat, slamming the door and re-tucking my shirt into my trousers as I cross the road, popping another button at the collar.
“Don’t ask,” I say to Des and Drake when they give me concerned, questioning eyes. Des gets the door for me, and I’m about to step in when someone calls my name. I turn and see Otto getting out of one of the Range Rovers.
“Wait up,” he says, striding across the road. I scan his face for scuffs or scrapes. No. That’s just my wife. He makes it to me and cocks his head in question. “Is that blood?”
I reach up and rub at my cheek. “Rose had at me. How’s Mum?”