The Choice. Kerry Barnes

let you finish up before I decided to propose and get all fucking soppy.’ He sighed heavily.

      ‘Mike, have a bloody day off, will ya? It wasn’t your fault. You’re right. It was a hell of a long night and shit happens. Now we need to get ourselves together.’

      There was silence as all three, including Neil, who was still on the phone, tried to take it in.

      ‘Neil, give me a minute. I’ll call ya back. I need to get my head around this.’

      She placed the phone back on the bedside table and turned to face Mike, who was now jumping into his jeans.

      ‘What the fuck d’ya think’s happened?’

      Mike was white-faced and angry. ‘I dunno, but we all need to meet up. I’ll call the lads. If that bastard is on the loose, then whoever set him free has more clout than us. Fuck me, we don’t even know who we’re dealing with.’

      Zara wrapped her silk robe around her naked body. She would have drooled over Mike in just his jeans and with his huge muscular chest on show, but not this morning. The fear of Torvic taking revenge shot through her like shards of glass. Her stomach churned when she thought of what she’d made Torvic do to his own son. The acid had burned the man’s skin from his bones. Jesus, she thought, what if he planned to do the same to anyone in her firm? Would she ever be able to forgive herself?

      Mike was now frantically trying to find his phone. His main concern was for Ricky, his son, who’d been recovering in hospital following Torvic’s son’s brutal attack on him. Ricky was supposed to be discharged at lunchtime.

      Mike was sweating profusely. He couldn’t let anything happen to Ricky – not now, when he had just been reunited. He’d lost contact with his son from the age of six, until meeting him unexpectedly in Maidstone Prison only months before their final release.

      In all that time apart, both Ricky and his father believed each other to be dead, so now they had an unbreakable bond, and Mike was buggered if he was going to let Torvic get his hands on him now.

      ‘Ring my phone, Zara. I can’t fucking find the poxy thing.’

      With her body shaking, she dialled his number; Mike pulled his phone from his back pocket.

      Zara rolled her eyes. ‘Babe, we need to calm down and think this through.’

      Mike didn’t answer her; he was calling the hospital. After a few minutes, he yelled, ‘Aw, for Christ’s sake, why don’t they bloody pick up?’

      ‘Mikey, seriously, you need to calm down. Call Ricky’s mobile.’

      Mike took a deep breath. She was right, of course. He really wasn’t being clear-headed.

      Ricky’s phone rang twice before he answered. ‘Dad, are you coming to pick me up? The doctor said I can go home in an hour’s time. They’re—’

      ‘Son, listen to me. Stay put and I will get Staffie to pick you up. Do not, and I mean do not, leave that hospital with anyone other than him.’

      ‘Dad, what’s going on?’

      ‘I ain’t got time to explain. Please, just do as I ask.’

      ‘Of course, Dad. No worries.’

      Mike sighed with relief. ‘Right, I’m gonna get the lads over here now and make a fucking watertight plan.’

      Zara raised her brow. ‘Er, no, we’ll meet at my house. It’s more secure. I have cameras.’

      Mike was about to demand otherwise but he was aware she was in charge. It was agreed and that was that. He bit his lip and nodded.

      Zara quickly pulled on her jeans, threw on a black jumper, and tied her hair back into a ponytail.

      ‘Let’s go. We’ll call the others on the way.’

      * * *

      Once Zara had reached the entrance to her long drive, she pressed the fob clipped to her car visor and the ornate metal gates opened. She drove slowly, surveying the land on either side of the drive, looking for anything that was out of place. The early morning dark clouds made the house in the distance appear eerie. It was dauntingly large and resembled a castle – just how her father had designed it. Paranoia wormed its way through her mind as she began thinking all sorts of crazy things. It wasn’t surprising though, after the previous evening’s events at the hangar. Knowing Torvic, he would seek retribution, so, in the cold light of day, anything was possible right now.

      As she peered in the rear-view mirror, she could see two cars behind her. Fortunately, she recognized them as Willie Ritz’s and Neil Lanigan’s vehicles. Lou Baker was riding shotgun with Willie.

      Willie and Lou stepped out of the car and made their way to Zara’s Range Rover, where they climbed in.

      Willie looked like Stig of the Dump, with his hair sticking up in all directions and his eyes heavy with brown rings.

      Mike shook his head. ‘State of you! Ya need to leave off that gear, mate. You look like death warmed up.’

      ‘Thanks for the compliment. Anyway, what’s the hold-up?’ He winked and gave a cheeky grin.

      Mike looked at Lou, who was the polar opposite of Willie. In his Hackett three-piece dark-blue suit and with his hair neatly cut and freshly shaven, he appeared groomed to perfection.

      ‘We’re not sure if Torvic or his men are already at the house.’

      Unexpectedly, Willie sighed, climbed back out of the car, and marched on ahead.

      ‘Oi, Willie, what the fuck are you doing, mate?’ called out Mike, from the open passenger window.

      Willie, in his long jacket and with his sleeves a tad too short, spun around. ‘It’s been pissing down all night. Wet mud will show any footprints.’

      Zara stepped out of the car on hearing Willie’s thoughts. She was followed by Mike and Lou.

      ‘He has a point. I haven’t had a chance to have the gardens around the house landscaped yet, so it’s all just soil. If anyone’s been up there, he’ll know.’

      They held back and watched as Willie wandered around, searching for clues to any intruders.

      Lou laughed. ‘Cor, blimey, he even looks like a Red Indian tracker. All he needs are a few feathers in his hair.’

      As they watched, Neil Lanigan and his cousin Shamus approached the house. They got out of their car and joined them. ‘What’s happening?’ asked Neil, in a less than confident tone.

      Zara turned and gave Neil a soft smile. For the first time, she saw the look of a worried man on his face. ‘Willie’s just checking for footprints. We want to make sure no one’s been up there.’

      Neil shivered and pushed his hands deeper into his pockets.

      His discomfort had Zara a little on edge. She didn’t like to have men around her who were nervous unless of course they were on the other side of her wrath. Yet the Lanigans were her trusted business partners, and even when she was held prisoner for five years by her brother Ismail and the Segals, Guy and Benjamin, they still kept her going concern in order, splitting every penny earned completely down the middle. She flicked her eyes to Shamus, who was now puffing furiously on a cigarette. As much as they were big, muscly Irishmen, both had soft faces with large, round, boyish eyes.

      Shamus was patting his cousin’s back. ‘I didn’t have a good feeling about this. Remember, I said to you last night, what if we are being fecking watched?’

      Neil nodded. ‘Aye, yer did that.’

      Still blaming herself for the cock-up, Zara felt sick. She looked from Mike and Lou, then back to Neil and Shamus. There was a marked difference in the men. Mike, Lou, and Willie were ready for battle; she could see in their eyes that they weren’t so afraid. On the other hand, Neil and Shamus looked like two rabbits