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

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?’

      Jennifer didn’t wait to get into a row. She snatched her bag and was out of the house, leaving Gloria with a face that could strip paint. ‘What the hell’s going on, Mikey? Please, tell me you didn’t . . . ?’

      Mike shook his head, certain he’d not got his leg over with Jennifer. ‘Not a chance. I fucking never would. Ya know that, Mum. But how the hell did she get left alone with me? Why is she even ’ere? Now, Zara’s gone. For fuck’s sake, Mum. If she came in and saw me and that tart, well . . . ’

      ‘That Jennifer came with Eric. I thought he was seeing her?’

      Mike sat back heavily on the sofa, with his head in his hands. ‘Zara’s gone,’ he repeated, bitterly.

      While Gloria headed to the kitchen to make the coffee, Mike reached for his new iPhone. He stared at the screen and wondered for a moment how to use the newfangled device. After playing around, he managed to get Zara’s number up and pressed the call button. He wouldn’t know what to say if the reason for her leaving was because of the tart on the sofa. The call went over to voicemail, so he tried again. This time, her phone didn’t even ring, it went straight to divert. He knew then she was ignoring him. In a split second, he hurled the device across the room, just missing Gloria, who was holding a tray of coffee and biscuits.

      ‘She’s not answering me. That bloody Jennifer! What the fuck was all that about? Why didn’t someone get her a cab home?’

      Gloria placed the tray on the coffee table and settled herself in the armchair opposite. ‘I thought she was Eric’s girlfriend. She was sitting with Eric when I went to bed.’

      ‘So where’s Eric now?’

      Gloria sipped her coffee and winced. ‘Shit, that’s vile. Er, I dunno, Son. He ain’t in his room. Look, don’t panic about Zara. Eric may have taken her back to the house to pick up a few bits and pieces.’

      ‘What, now? Why would Eric do that? Why wouldn’t she ask me?’

      Feeling nauseous herself, Gloria placed the cup of coffee down and tried to nibble on a biscuit. ‘Because, Mikey, you were probably out for the count. Blimey, you weren’t half knocking ’em back, dancing and singing. Still, did you have a good time?’

      ‘Mum! Listen! Zara’s not answering her phone, and now she’s switched the bleedin’ thing off.’

      ‘Stop worrying. Zara ain’t bloody buggered off for good. You’re getting paranoid. Now, drink your coffee and clear your mind.’

      Mikey knew his mother was talking sense, and yet he regretted last night. So much so, he felt an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He should have left the party early and spent the first night at home in bed with Zara, making up for lost time. And there was so much they hadn’t talked about: planning their wedding, for example, or even going over the past and preparing for the future.

      He could kick himself right now: all this time he’d waited for his girl, and now he’d royally fucked up – on the first bloody night as well. His anger then turned to Zara. How stupid was she? She should’ve known he wouldn’t be interested in anyone else. Acting like a kid running off, she should’ve fronted him out, like any grown woman would have.

      Just as he was about to retrieve his phone and call his brother, Eric appeared – as if from nowhere – looking like he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Fresh, tidy, and smart. Mr Cool. Mike had to blink. For a moment, he didn’t even recognize him. ‘Eric, where’s Zara?’

      Mike clocked the cocky smirk but wondered if he was seeing things. ‘Eric?’

      As if he was about to make an important announcement, Eric took a deep breath, fiddled with his cufflinks, and sighed. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long, it had nearly killed him. Big, powerful Mike. The man himself. Self-assured and always having his own way whenever he wanted it. Well, sod you, big brother.

      ‘Well, now you’re sober, I need to tell you that last night Neil got stabbed and I do believe Zara has gone to have a meeting with the Lanigans this morning.’ Eric was a little frustrated himself, finding Zara had already left when he’d woken early this morning to get himself ready to escort her.

      ‘What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me before?’

      Again, Eric smirked; it was a new feature that Mike hadn’t seen before. ‘Like I said, Mikey. You were drunk, and so I thought it best to talk to you this morning.’

      For a moment, Mike felt entirely out of control. Eric should have woken him.

      ‘Is Neil dead, then?’

      Eric shook his head. ‘No, I called the hospital this morning. He’s out of the woods but it was touch and go.’

      ‘Well, thank Gawd for that!’ piped up Gloria.

      ‘Where’s she meeting the Lanigans?’ asked Mike.

      Eric shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know. I thought she would’ve told you. I guess she decided to go it alone.’

      Mike couldn’t work out whether Eric’s tone was sarcastic or genuine; either way, his brother was different. Having been apart for so long, he now wondered if he actually knew his brother at all. ‘So, where’ve you been?’

      ‘Just making a few calls and sorting out a little bit o’ business.’

      Mike stood up and glared, not liking the sound of it. ‘What business?’

      ‘A bit o’ knocked-off gear.’

      Looking Eric over, and noticing the smart suit, he cast a questioning look. ‘What, dressed like a fucking nightclub owner?’

      ‘Does it matter? The fucking world didn’t stand still while you were away, ya know. I was still earning a crust. What, d’ya think I was sitting twiddling me thumbs and waiting for you to tell me what to do?’

      ‘Obviously fucking not! Ya never even wrote me a poxy letter!’ bellowed Mike.

      Gloria watched the tension between her two sons mounting and decided to nip it in the bud. ‘Lads, listen. Our Ricky will be up in a minute. I don’t want any bickering. Besides, it’s not like you two. I thought you were both on the same firm?’ She shot Eric a glare. And then she looked back at her eldest boy. Maybe he hadn’t got over Eric abandoning him when he went to prison after all. She couldn’t really blame Mike; she’d held it against Eric herself for fucking off to Spain when Mike needed him the most.

      ‘Sorry, Eric. Listen, mate, I’m still edgy. Prison does that to ya.’

      Eric nodded in acknowledgement, but he didn’t offer