by KERRY BARNES
‘Why do you have such a desire to know the reason I double-crossed you? Tell me that first, Torvic.’
With his eyes staring at the top of Eric’s head, Torvic appeared to be lost in space. He wondered, maybe somewhere in his subconscious, if he blamed his father, the man who left his mother, only to return when he was a teenager to rob him blind. He’d come back into his life and for two days he’d convinced him that he would be there by his side. He’d offered him a stake in his own business that he was setting up in Bristol. They would earn a fortune, and he would be an equal partner, with the one man he loved and desperately wanted back in his life. However, the bastard took all his savings, promising he would send word when the business was fully up and running. Of course, it never happened. He did a runner, and all he heard, years after, was that his father had died on the streets from alcoholism. Not long after receiving the news, his mother then also passed away. He vowed after that never to trust a living soul. He changed and became the master at double-crossing. His father had taught him that much – believe no one and get out of life as much as you can because everyone is out for themselves.
His mind drifted, back to Izzy, the man he could never beat, the only crook who would be just the one step ahead. Now, all that was left was Izzy’s daughter, Zara, and he would take everything from her as payback for all the shit Izzy had put him through. Eric’s question still circled his mind: why did he have to know the reason for Eric double-crossing him? Perhaps the answer was because he never understood why his own father did it. He was looking for one answer and he thought that Eric could give it to him.
‘I helped you, Eric. I set you up in business. I trusted you with my contacts, and you delivered. There were no fucking issues. I don’t remember fucking you over. But you fucked me over. Why?’
Eric was grinning inside, just seeing the crumpled expression on Torvic’s face as if he genuinely was hurt.
‘Yeah, Torvic, you did take me on, but let’s be honest here. You used me for what and who I knew, so it wasn’t as if you picked me up off the streets and put me in a palace. It was a two-way deal. I gave you names and places, and you went in and took over the cocaine business.’
Wiping the sweat away from his brow, Torvic licked his dry lips.
Eric was watching intently, calculating the man’s present state. Clearly, he was dehydrated.
‘Yeah, and you were paid well. So, come on then,’ he bellowed, ‘why did ya blindside me?’ In frustration, he leaped up from his chair again.
Eric could see Torvic’s eyes flickering from side to side, the sweat running down his face, and his cheeks glowing red. He was sure the man was going to have a heart attack at any minute, and he would watch that with pleasure, but he didn’t expect the man to lurch himself forward and ram the gun into his mouth. The action was so fast and aggressive that his head was forced to the back of the chair, the barrel smashing his front teeth in. How the force hadn’t caused Torvic’s finger to pull the trigger was beyond him, but now he was in agony. His lips were split open, and he gagged on the barrel of the gun. Torvic was wild-eyed as the cocaine reached its full impact.
Fuck, thought Eric. He’d underestimated Torvic by playing it cool and taking his time while stringing out a story that had pushed the man to his very limits. Now he had to change tactics and fast.
As Torvic removed the gun, Eric clamped his hand over his bloodied mouth, feeling the broken teeth like tiny pebbles in his hands. The raw nerves sent excruciating pain up through his head, making his eyes water. Yet he needed to talk. He had to get the man back onside. He wasn’t cut out for torture. He may have dished it out in the past, but he’d never been on the receiving end of it, and if this was what it felt like to have teeth pulled out, he would rather die.
‘Okay, Torvic, let me speak.’
Torvic flared his nostrils and glared. ‘Go on but make it quick. I’m fucking done with you.’
‘Yeah, I fucked you over, like I was saying.’ He winced as the cool air hit his bare nerves. He ran his tongue over the remains of his teeth and swallowed hard. ‘Right. Back to leapfrog. By that I mean I lean on a man to jump to the next best thing. Lance Ryder approached me. He sucked me in over a few brandies. I guess I was pissed, but what he offered me sounded pretty attractive. It was a position in the special operations team. I’d still be a civvy but I’d have a hell of a lot of clout. And as an ex-villain, I’d be held in high regard. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, in my entire life. I’ve wanted respect. To be seen as someone. I was never held in any fucking regard working with you, Mike, or any other fucker. All I had to do was to track down the man behind the gangs. It was so easy yet it was clever because I could drag it out, you see. I earned money from you and the special ops team. No one knew what the fuck I was doing. Then Mike got out, and I realized that my big brother and Zara were all after the same person – you. So, I was left with tough choices to make, but you, Torvic, made it such a fucking walk in the park.’
Eric stopped and smiled. It was a slow, sadistic smile, which spread across his bloodied mouth, making Torvic jolt. It was a look that Torvic had never seen before – a cruel smirk, perhaps similar to his own mirror image.
He tilted his head to the side. ‘But you still haven’t explained why you blindsided me?’
‘As much as I’ve hated the bond between Ricky and Mike, I detested more what you did to that boy. You hurt Ricky – that’s something you should never have done. You were double-crossing me all along, pretending that it was me who was taking over Zara’s restaurants and running the gangs. It wasn’t me though that was going to inherit half the business. It was Alastair, your psycho son. I have to hand it to you, Torvic, you were bloody clever, mate. Swapping the cocaine business for Flakka, you built an empire. I was supposed to be a part of it but that would never have happened, would it? Because you use everyone, and I mean everyone.’ He stopped and took a deep breath, before shaking his head. ‘You even used your granddaughter to help convince Zara, but …’ – he huffed and scoffed – ‘Zara was too clever for you. You underestimated the woman, and now you want answers from me. Well, now you have ’em, Torvic. I might be a cunt, but you are the fucking Devil’s cunt.’
Torvic sat back down and smiled. ‘Well, thank you, Eric. I just wanted to know, that’s all. It wasn’t me who battered Mike’s son, though. Just to confirm what you should know from the hangar set-up, it really was Dez Weller and Alastair.’
‘Yeah, you mean the evil bastard raised by you and your teachings, don’t ya? That makes you just as much to blame.’
‘Eric, you surprise me. I really thought you were a heartless bastard, but somewhere, in that chest of yours, there is at least a heart.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s a shame. I’d hoped the reason was something more dramatic. Perhaps a better offer from a more powerful man who you defected to, but, no, you did so all because of a kid, a stupid kid at that, who got bashed up.’
‘No, not any stupid kid, Torvic. He’s my kid. He’s my son!’
Torvic stared, his eyes on stalks. ‘What?’ He couldn’t believe his luck. ‘I take it, dear Mikey has no fucking clue, then?’ He didn’t need an answer: the resigned look on Eric’s face said it all. The new knowledge gave a boost to his mood and a fiendish chuckle left his mouth.
‘Well, well, well. I can’t wait to see the look on big Mike Regan’s smug fucking face when he hears that his son – his precious boy – ain’t even his, and, worse, he’s yours!’ With that, Torvic threw his head back and roared with laughter.
Eric looked up to see Torvic’s red face beaming with excitement. Then, as if a new thought had ripped through Torvic’s mind, his face returned to its demonic, cold glare.
‘I can’t be bothered to play games with you, Eric. You’ve given me enough satisfaction today, just knowing I’ve something on Mike that’ll destroy the man. Like you said, you had a choice to make, but your choice has just got you killed.’
Eric heard the bang before the bullet hit him.
Torvic
pulled out his cigarettes and lit the end of one, puffing senselessly. His hands were shaking, and his mouth was still very dry. He needed a drink. Perhaps he’d overdone it with the cocaine and shot Eric too soon. What a waste. He could have dug deeper for answers, to reel the others in. The excitement of Eric’s disclosure had made him act recklessly. But now? Now, he needed to get his own act together before he fucked up anything else.
His mind drifted back to his granddaughter. Perhaps it was Jackie who was dead in that caravan. The gypsies were sure it was her. Where would Tiffany have gone, though? He’d trained her well, so all he had to do was imagine how she would think. He suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had to find her before Zara, Mike, or any other person in that firm got to her first.
Just as he gulped down some cold water, Eric’s phone rang. He paused and listened. It was coming from Eric’s trouser pocket. Quickly, he placed the long glass on the side and grappled inside Eric’s pocket until he found the phone. Unexpectedly, the man’s dead weight fell on top of him. He cursed. Sliding out from underneath Eric, he then staggered upright and grabbed him beneath his armpits, hauling him up into a sitting position. Picking up the phone, a name flashed on the screen: it was Mike fucking Regan. This should be fun, he thought. He pressed the accept call button and listened.
‘Eric, where the fuck are you?’
‘Well, if it ain’t the brother, Mr Fucking Regan.’
Torvic could almost taste the panic as he heard Mike’s breathing suddenly change.
‘Put my underhanded bastard of a brother on the phone,’ Mike bellowed.
Torvic blinked. What did he just say? He paused before he spoke, his brain trying to process why Mike would call Eric an underhanded bastard. Did Mike know that Eric had once worked for him before he defected to the other side? he wondered.
‘He’s busy. I bet your arsehole’s gone now, Regan, eh? Never thought I’d escape, did ya? You believed you were on top. Well, how does it feel now?’
‘You’re nothing, Torvic. Why don’t you come and meet me face-to-face and then let’s see who’s chickenshit, ’cos, old man, it ain’t fucking me.’
A surge of anger ripped through Torvic like an electric storm, setting all his nerves on edge. ‘Meet you? Nah, I’m gonna make you sweat, and as I take out every member of your family, one by one, trust me, I won’t make their demise sweet. It will be bitter and painful. And, just so you know, I’ve one down already and what a pleasure it gave me too.’
Without a thought as to who it was who Torvic had murdered, and assuming too much, Mike carelessly screamed down the phone, ‘You murdered Liam, you sick bastard, didn’t ya?’
Not knowing who Liam even was, Torvic replied, ‘Yeah, that’s right, and another one of your lot will be next.’
‘When Willie gets to you, I swear to God, you’ll wish you’d taken Alastair’s place, ’cos that man will keep you alive and torture you every fucking day.’
Torvic grinned. So Liam was Willie’s son, then, and the chink in the firm’s armour would be their boys. He’d not known their names, except for Ricky. Hesitating before he blurted out what he knew about Ricky, Torvic thought quickly. It made sense for now for Mike to believe he was still the boy’s father until he could see the crippled look on his face when he told him otherwise. ‘Your boy will be the next to go, mark my words, Regan.’
‘Yeah, is that fucking right? Well, you’ll have to get through me first, and I’ll annihilate you, you can be sure on that score.’
Mike’s hands were sweating as he gripped the phone, trying hard to keep it to his ear instead of launching it across the lock-up floor. ‘Put Eric on. I want to personally tell him what I have in store for him an’ all.’
Torvic called out, ‘Eric.’ He paused. ‘He’s in the bathroom, getting cleaned up. I’ll tell him you called, though.’ Before he ended the call, he gave a sickly chuckle.
* * *
Mike’s nostrils flared as he looked at Lou. ‘Would you believe it, eh? Me own brother in cahoots with Torvic.’ His eyes scanned the lock-up. ‘And to think the last time we were here we were fighting the world together.’
Lou nodded his head and sighed. ‘I think the good ol’ days are long gone, mate.’
* * *
Zara dragged a chair along the corridor and sat outside the barred door while Jackie nervously sat on the bed. Her hands were under her backside, her knees bobbing up and down, as she chewed the side of her lip.
‘Horrible in that place, ain’t it? I was stuck inside there for five years,’ said Zara.
‘Well, at least it was comfortable and you got food. Me, I had fuck all. I did what I had to do to survive, so I would’ve traded places.’
Zara shook her head. ‘You, Jackie, are totally deluded. You had it all: Mike, Ricky, wealth, but you chose to fuck off, steal the money, and make a new life for yourself. You weren’t kidnapped and held against your will. You had the world at your feet, but you were just too stupid to see it, letting your fanny rule your brain.’
Jackie could see the gun resting on Zara’s lap and guessed she wasn’t going to get shot anytime soon. For, like any woman, Zara would be curious about her and Mike’s relationship. It was her chance to make Zara feel as worthless as she did right now. ‘It wasn’t that, Zara. I had to leave. I just couldn’t handle all the pampering. Mike wanted sex every minute of the day. Smothered with love, it suffocated me, ya know what I mean?’
Those words would have ripped through Zara like a hot knife through butter, but not today. She smiled.
‘Yes, I know what you mean, Jackie, but I guess I can handle that. You couldn’t.’
Jackie glared; she hadn’t expected that reaction. She thought Zara would be heartbroken.
‘I bet it’s hard for you, having my cast-off, eh?’
Zara remained calm. She could see exactly what Jackie was doing; it was like a teenager at the school disco provoking a catfight. Yet somehow this was fun. ‘You forget, Jackie, I had Mike first, so it was you who had the cast-off. Married or not, I could’ve had Mike back at any time. And you know it, Jackie, don’t you? You never ever really had that man’s heart because it always belonged to me and it always will.’
Jackie screwed her face up in a temper. ‘Yeah, well, whatever, Zara, he ain’t my fucking type. You’re welcome to him.’
‘Tell me this, Jackie. If you left for no other reason than he was suffocating you with love, why would you keep Ricky from him? You left everyone completely in the dark. That family searched for years for that boy. Why?’
Jackie hopped off the bed and walked to the bars so that she could look directly into Zara’s eyes and give her the biggest smirk of her life. ‘Not everyone, Zara.’
‘What?’
‘Someone from that family knew exactly where he was,’ replied Jackie, with a condescending snigger.
‘Liar!’
Slowly and deliberately, Jackie shook her head. ‘Oh yes they did.’
It was now Zara’s turn to look worried.
Jackie could almost see the cogs whirring as Zara absorbed the shocking news. Savouring the discomfort on Zara’s face, Jackie watched her gloomy eyes and gave her another mocking half-smile.
But Zara wasn’t stupid. She tightened her face, raising a well-defined eyebrow. ‘Ya know the trouble is, Jackie, whether you are telling me the truth or not, you have a reputation for telling lies, and so that’s where your little story is consigned to – in the bullshit pile.’
Jackie curled her lip. ‘No, seriously, there was one of the Regan family who knew where Ricky was all along.’
Zara shrugged her shoulders, demonstrating she didn’t give a shit.
‘What, don’t you want to know?’ asked Jackie.
‘No, Jackie, not really. It doesn’t affect me in any way. In fact, I couldn’t give two fucks, to be honest.’
‘But …’
Zara jumped to her feet and faced Jackie square on. ‘But what, Jackie? But fucking what?�
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‘I thought you’d want to know.’
‘What, so you can play another game of pulling that family apart? I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.’
Frustrated with Zara’s nonchalant demeanour, Jackie tightened her lip. ‘Well, Mikey will want to know, and I’m gonna tell him.’
‘Good. You do that. I’m sure the sentence will end up with something like in exchange for …’
‘No, he’s a right to know. And I don’t want nuffin for the information.’
Zara laughed. ‘You mean, then, you want something.’
‘What?’ asked Jackie, with her nose crinkled in confusion.
‘If you don’t want nuffin it means you want something. Think about what you just said, or shall I get out the crayons and a colouring book?’
‘Cor, you really think you’re better than me, don’t ya?’
‘Yeah, I do. In fact, I don’t think, Jackie, I know I am. You are a scummy piece of dog shit, who cares for no one but herself. No one believes a word that comes out of your mouth.’
Jackie moved away from the bars and sat back down on the bed. ‘Eric, he knew. I saw him one day, hiding behind the hedgerows along from my caravan. I thought, any minute now, I would have that bastard smashing through my door and taking Ricky. He never did, though. One minute he was there and the next he was gone. So there, and I don’t want money for it. That bit of information comes free.’
Jackie glared again, waiting for a reaction, but Zara was silent and motionless, with not even a blink from her cold eyes.
‘Er … did you hear me?’
Zara nodded. Slowly, curling her top lip, she smirked. ‘Yeah … funny, because even if I did believe that story, it still wouldn’t shock me. So, it wouldn’t be the big revelation that you’d hoped for. You won’t get a reaction out of me.’
Jackie was fuming. She’d never managed to rein in her temper and this time was no exception. She lashed out without thinking. ‘Yeah, well, that may not fucking shock you, but this will, ya cocky cow. Ricky ain’t even Mike’s. Eric is Ricky’s real father!’
