The Choice

by KERRY BARNES

  She stared off into the garden as the men made the requisite calls. Her mind was now on how she would hunt down Torvic.

  Once they regrouped, Zara tried to temper everyone’s anxieties. They needed to stay dispassionate.

  ‘Right, we don’t know a lot, except for the fact that if we were being watched, and I suspect we were, then it was by either Torvic’s men or this Barak guy. And, more importantly, they couldn’t have had the force to intervene or they would’ve done so. They wouldn’t know that we would hold Torvic hostage, would they? Not even I knew that at the time until Torvic told us he was working for Barak. So, that much we do know.’

  Neil nodded. ‘Look, we’re all safe for the moment, we’re all here and accounted for, so I reckon you’re right. They didn’t have the manpower to take over last night.’

  Zara suddenly went white. ‘Shit! Joshua! I haven’t called him.’

  She quickly pulled out her phone and made the call; yet it went straight to voicemail. Her mouth felt dry. Her cousin had been the first one to leave last night. She tried again but there was still no answer. Then she scrolled down to find his landline number. His wife would know if he had got home safely or not. Zara felt sick and filled with guilt because Joshua was only called in to help her. He didn’t live her way of life anymore. He was a sweet, gentle man who now lived for his children.

  The phone rang and rang until, finally, Bella answered in a flustered voice. ‘Hello, Josh?’

  ‘No, Bella, it’s me, Zara. I take it Josh hasn’t arrived home?’

  There was a long pause. ‘Er, no, Zara, I was hoping he was still with you. I’ve waited up most of the night, but I’ve heard nothing. His phone just goes to voicemail. Oh my God, Zara, do you think he’s okay?’

  The terrifying thought drained the blood from Zara’s face. She swallowed hard before she was able to speak. ‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ she lied. ‘Listen, don’t worry. He had a few errands. I was just calling to see if he’d finished, that’s all.’ She hoped she sounded convincing.

  ‘Okay, Zara. Please tell him to call me, once you hear from him. I’m so concerned because he always answers his phone.’

  ‘Oh, it’s probably run out of battery.’

  ‘Maybe,’ came the deflated voice.

  ‘I’ll call, Bella. Goodbye.’

  The men all stared open-mouthed, waiting for some explanation.

  ‘Josh didn’t go home, and he ain’t the type to go off without telling Bella. They’ve got him. I’m fucking sure, but if they …’

  Her anger was rising, and she could feel her heart beating relentlessly. The notion that her sweet cousin was being tortured or mercilessly killed at the hands of Torvic was hard to bear.

  ‘I swear to God, I’ll shred every fucking piece of skin from the man’s bones if he …’

  Mike gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Hey, listen, we don’t know what’s gone on yet. Please, Zara, babe …’

  Not wanting to crumple, Zara stiffened. ‘I’m fine, Mike. I think we need to establish first whether it was Barak or just some of Torvic’s druggies in his firm. Once the kids are out of the country, we need to check out all the places from where that shit drug Flakka was sold. Let’s find out what’s going on.’

  She looked at Neil. ‘Look, no disrespect, but I want you to go back to Ireland with Shamus. Torvic will want to pick us off, one by one. I need you away …’ She tried to find the right words that wouldn’t insult him.

  ‘No!’ he said, sharply, before lowering his tone. ‘I’m your equal business partner, so this fight is just as much mine. Shamus and I will check out your restaurants. Torvic and his gang of druggies may not start with the families. He could try to destroy your businesses first.’

  Zara nodded. She knew he had a valid point, which made her realize that her knowledge of Torvic’s sick acts probably only scratched the surface.

  ‘Fine, but never alone.’ She shot a look at Shamus, who nodded in agreement.

  Chapter 2

  Arty washed his face and combed his hair. He then searched Lance’s bathroom for some hair gel. Liam stood in the doorway. ‘Fuck me, mate, this is serious shit. Me ol’ man sounded right worried.’

  Arty looked at his reflection in the mirror once more and turned to face Liam. ‘I dunno what I’m gonna do, Liam. I ain’t even got a toothbrush, let alone a change of clothes. And Spain, I hate mainland Spain. They could’ve booked flights to Ibiza.’

  Liam shook his head. ‘Arty, mate, you can buy as much fairy fart smellies and Hugo Boss T-shirts as ya like, once we get there. We gotta take this seriously, right? I ain’t never heard me dad talk like that before.’

  Arty chewed the inside of his lip. ‘All right, mate. How are the girls doing?’

  A cheeky grin slithered its way across his face. ‘Poppy’s using me as a crutch, which I kinda like. I can’t believe the bird likes me. I mean …’ He pushed Arty away from the mirror and pointed. ‘Look at that face. Who the fuck would fancy that, eh?’

  Arty put his arm around Liam. ‘You ain’t so bad, Liam, mate. Stop doubting yaself.’

  Liam looked Arty up and down. ‘Aw, come on, Art. You look like you’ve stepped outta an action-packed movie, but me, well, I’ve stepped outta a fucking horror film.’

  Arty laughed. ‘See, bro, I may have the looks, but you have the humour.’

  Liam looked again at his long, bent nose and skinny, lanky body. ‘Yeah, I guess I gotta have something, eh, ’cos that Poppy is one stunner and she likes me.’

  Arty ruffled Liam’s hair. ‘Nothing to do with ya big dick, then?’

  Liam giggled. ‘Nah, she ain’t met that yet. That’s gonna be a bonus.’

  * * *

  Poppy stared down at her cornflakes. ‘Brooke, it’s all exciting and fun, but, in reality, this is so alien to us. What the hell do we know about this way of life, and why is Lance so determined to keep us safe? He’s not even really related to us.’

  Brooke, her twin sister, reached across the table and grabbed her hand. ‘You are the clever one. I thought you would have worked it out by now.’

  Poppy looked up and frowned. ‘Worked what out?’

  Brooke moved a loose long blonde strand from her face. ‘I think Lance is actually our real father.’

  Poppy nearly choked on her cereal. ‘That’s absurd.’

  ‘No, it’s not. Listen. While you were in the hospital, and I was here, Lance said don’t go poking around. Well, I took a leaf out of your book and became the Secret Squirrel. I did have a good snoop and …’ She got up from her seat and wandered over to a cabinet.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Poppy.

  Brooke removed an album from the top drawer. ‘Look!’ she said, returning to her seat and opening the first page. She pointed to a picture of a woman.

  Poppy pulled the album closer, to get a better view, and suddenly gasped. ‘Who the hell is that? Oh, my word, she looks just like us. I mean, she could be our mother. Let’s face it, we look nothing like our mother, do we? And we certainly look nothing like Alastair.’

  ‘No, exactly. I looked at the other photos, and there are some with Lance and her. I think she’s his sister, which means that we could be his family.’

  Poppy leaned back on her chair. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. Perhaps we are just scrabbling around for answers. I mean, our mother is hardly the motherly type, and as for Alastair, he isn’t really the ideal parent, and both you and I came to the same conclusion. So perhaps we are purely fantasizing.’

  Brooke was adamant. ‘No, Poppy, of course it’s possible. Think about it. Kendall was only a year old when we were born. Kendall was Lance’s daughter, although Mother did insist we all have the same surname. So who’s to say we weren’t his as well. Anyway, when he comes home, I am going to ask him outright …’

  Poppy sighed. ‘Brooke, stop a minute. Do you really want Lance to be our father? I mean, what difference will it make now? We are grown women.’

  ‘He came int
o the bedroom last night and must have assumed we were asleep. He removed my glasses and put them on the side. I would quite like to have a real father who cares, even when I’m fifty years old. It would be kind of nice, don’t you think?’

  Poppy looked at her twin sister’s sweet, childlike expression and felt sorry for her. The poor girl had been to hell and back. The rape must have been horrendous, so she could see why Brooke would want a strong man to make her feel safe and loved.

  ‘Yes, Brooke, you’re right. But I think, from the sound of things, we have more pressing issues, like understanding why we need to leave the bloody country. Lance has gone to the house to collect our passports. It’s all happening rather too fast for me to get my head around it all.’

  Brooke placed the album back inside the drawer and joined her sister. ‘We will have Arty and Liam with us.’

  Poppy smiled. ‘I guess that’s a bonus, then.’

  By the time Lance arrived back home, he looked worried and had no time for any girlie dramas. He pushed the door open and marched into the dining room, ready to act like a sergeant major and kickstart the girls into gear.

  ‘Right, this is what’s going to happen. Firstly—’

  Brooke stopped him in his tracks. She rose from her chair and stood in front of him, with her hands up, signifying that she had something to say.

  He tilted his head and took a breath. Poppy noticed how his stern features softened as soon as Brooke was in his face. It was at that moment she wondered if Brooke was right about them being related.

  ‘Lance, may I ask you something very personal?’ said Brooke, in her sweetest voice.

  Lance appeared to blush slightly, and a gentle smile crept across his face. ‘Um, like what?’

  The huge serious-minded man seemed to have shifted personalities, which made Poppy want to laugh.

  Brooke stepped back. ‘I know you said not to be nosey, but I did find an album …’ She paused, waiting for a reaction. Either he will go ballistic or remain with that soft expression, she thought.

  Luckily for her, he chose the latter option. She took a deep breath, glanced back at her sister, and then asked outright, ‘Lance, are you our father?’

  Poppy looked down, embarrassed, wishing the floor would swallow her up.

  However, Brooke stared directly into his eyes. It was most unlike her. She was the shy one – normally.

  His huge, broad shoulders relaxed, and he took a seat at the table. ‘Only a DNA can confirm it either way.’

  ‘I can sense a “but” in there, Lance,’ said Brooke, eager for him to continue, as she too sat down at the table.

  He looked from one girl to the other. ‘You could be. I believe your mother lied about your due dates, and you both look so much like my sister. She had the same eyes, and I’ve no need to tell you that, if you’ve been looking through the album.’

  Brooke looked at Poppy’s gaping mouth and grasped her sister’s hand. This was so unbelievable.

  ‘So, what will all this mean, Lance? I mean, like, between us?’

  Lance unexpectedly grabbed her hand. ‘I don’t know, Brooke, but what I do know is this. I lost Kendall, although she actually wasn’t my own flesh and blood. I discovered that eventually. But I loved her all the same. I hate to say this, but your mother wasn’t as sweet and innocent as she made out. And, by the way, I heard she’s been arrested for running you down, Poppy. Nevertheless, I need you two as far away as possible because something pretty serious has happened. I don’t want you both in the way. Luckily, I managed to find your passports.’

  Brooke knew he had changed the subject deliberately, but like a dog with a bone, she pressed him again. ‘Lance, please, before we go, what do you want to do? I mean, a DNA or …?’

  Lance smiled and shook his head. ‘The truth is …’

  Poppy suddenly noticed his little finger was bent. Her heart raced as she looked at her own and then at Brooke’s. They all had the same condition. Without rationalizing it first, she blurted out, ‘Lance, you are our father. I know that now for a fact.’

  Lance frowned. ‘How?’

  Poppy slid her trembling hand across the table and tapped his crooked finger. ‘Look! We have the same condition. It’s hereditary, so I think we can safely say that you’re our father.’

  Brooke was suddenly beaming with excitement. ‘Oh my God, you’re our dad, our real dad, then!’

  Totally out of the blue, Brooke leaped from her seat and flung her arms around his neck. ‘I knew it, I just knew it.’ Her excitement brought tears to her eyes.

  It suddenly hit Lance that it was one thing saying they were his daughters, but it was quite another dealing with the emotion and now the responsibility. However, he was unexpectedly gripped by a warm feeling – a new sensation. His years of combat had made him cold and heartless, but the look on his girls’ faces stirred another emotion.

  Out of character, he turned to Poppy and held out his arms for her to do the same. She hesitated at first, but once those huge arms pulled her into his chest, she also felt a great comfort.

  The revelations and reactions from the trio were halted as Arty and Liam entered the room. Arty looked a little uncomfortable, almost sheepish, since Lance was such a big, stern man, and his expression gave nothing away.

  ‘My dad called. I think we’re going to Spain … all of us.’

  Lance straightened up and nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s right. We just need you guys to be away until we get something sorted out. I know, Arty, that it’s not your responsibility to look out for my girls but …’

  ‘Lance, we will anyway, take my word. We’ll look after them.’

  Liam pushed his way into the room. ‘Yeah, mate, we’ll take care of ’em.’ Then he looked over at Poppy and winked.

  Lance rolled his eyes. ‘Christ, you’re so much like your father, Liam. What I mean is, make sure no harm comes to them.’

  Liam was nodding as if his head would fall off. ‘I know what you mean, Lance. But I ain’t what you think. I wouldn’t take advantage, would I, Arty? I ain’t like that.’

  ‘He’s right, Lance. We’ve been brought up to be respectful.’

  ‘Sorry, lads. Yeah, I know your fathers, and I know if you’re half the men they are, then my girls are in safe hands.’

  A car horn sounded.

  ‘Willie’s here already. Right, lads, you go with him, and I’ll take the girls. We’ll meet you at the airport in an hour.’

  Liam wasted no time in kissing Poppy on the forehead, and Arty kissed Brooke on the cheek.

  Once they were out of sight, Lance turned to his daughters. ‘So I guess they will look after you then? Do I detect more than a friendship going on?’

  Poppy blushed. ‘No, Lan … I mean, do we call you … I mean, can we call you Dad?’

  Lance squeezed her shoulder. ‘Baby, you can call me whatever you like, but Dad sounds good.’

  She blushed again. ‘Dad, we are just friends, for now. They are good men. I feel safe with them.’

  He chuckled. ‘A bit different, I guess, from your mother’s friends.’

  Brooke laughed. ‘Worlds apart, Dad. But you know what? I hated Mother’s way of life. It was so stilted and cold, and as for Alastair, well, he was like a passing shadow. I always wondered why he wasn’t like my friends’ fathers. Still, I am sure he won’t miss us.’

  Lance gave a fake smile. Inside, he was reliving the moment when the acid was poured over Alastair and the painful, ugly way in which he was killed. How was he going to explain what had happened to him?

  ‘Come on. Let’s get going, girls. We can’t waste any more time.’

  * * *

  Willie drove more rationally than usual. He didn’t want to attract any attention. Arriving at Arty’s house, he instructed him to grab his passport and not fanny around. They would be given enough money to buy a wardrobe of clothes once they reached Spain. Arty did as he was told and was back in the car in record time.

  As they approached his ex-wife’s h
ouse, Willie was so intent on getting the lads to the airport that he wasn’t aware of a black BMW parked across the street. Inside, a man wearing a dark hoodie was watching them.

  The thought of the previous night’s events still trickled through Willie’s brain. If Torvic were to capture any one of the lads, there would be carnage. He had to keep his mind on track. He’d never before felt fear, and now it was beating him over the head and causing waves of nausea to engulf his body.

  Liam was his mini-me, the be-all and end-all of his life. As he watched his son skip towards the car with his hair messily blowing in the wind, his heart ached. If only Liam had taken on his mother’s looks instead of being cursed with his own features. Still, there was something very lovable about Liam, and the firm all had a soft spot for him.

  The excitement had the lads chatting for England; however, Willie remained quiet. If the boys knew why they had to get away, he wondered if they would be so up for it. He decided he would discuss the seriousness of the present situation when they reached the airport. He just had to find the right words that would instil vigilance yet not frighten them. He wasn’t the best with words; that was Lou Baker’s job or Mike Regan’s, for that matter. He tended to be a little reckless and never thought before he spoke, but he realized that today would be different. His worry was so intense that he’d even ditched his cocaine pouch. There would be no more drugs until this was over. He had to be clear-headed because too much was at stake for any flippancy.

  Gatwick was busy, and a sudden downpour had everyone busily crossing the road as if a tsunami had hit them. The rumble of people and cars had Willie distracted, and so he was still unaware that the black BMW, which had been parked outside his home and had then been tailing them throughout the whole journey, was now parked two cars away from his own.

  Arty and Liam were still babbling on about the two girls, oblivious to the concerned expression on Willie’s face. Always the joker or the butt of jokes, Willie was silent. With very little time left before departure, Willie turned to Liam and Arty and shepherded them over to a quiet area. He needed to have a serious conversation with them about the events surrounding Ricky’s injuries and the death of the twins’ sister Kendall, now that Torvic had managed to escape from the secret room in the hangar. He knew what he was about to tell the boys wouldn’t go down well. It didn’t. The look on Liam’s and Arty’s faces spoke volumes.