A Family Divided (Dividing Line #3)

by Heather Atkinson

  “You fucking traitor. How can you turn against your own family?” he declared, the gun still pressed to the back of Rachel’s head, who in turn held the shard of lethally sharp glass to Jan’s throat.

  “Because she killed Dad and Andy.”

  “Bollocks.”

  “It’s true. Everything Rachel said was right. Mum was shagging Chris and they topped them together, so they could have power.”

  “Is it true Mum?” said Robbie, so bemused he looked to be on the verge of tears.

  “No. Kill her before she kills me,” she rasped, blood bubbling on her lips.

  “You do Robbie and you and your brother are dead,” said Alex in a cold, hard voice. “Rachel, drop the glass and move away.”

  “No. She killed my son and nearly killed Ryan.”

  “Rachel,” rasped a weak voice. She looked up to see Ryan being borne into the room on Bruiser’s big arm. “Don’t do it, you’re better than this.”

  Her face crumpled into tears. “She killed Thomas.”

  “I know Sweetheart,” he said, struggling to talk through his mouthful of broken teeth and swollen lips. “But if you kill her then nothing will ever be the same again.”

  She knew what he was saying. Rachel had never actually killed anyone before, apart from Superintendent Jarvis, but that was only because she didn’t intervene when he had a heart attack. Slitting someone’s throat while looking directly into their eyes was a very different matter. All their hopes of a life free of criminal activity would be over because she would forever be a changed woman.

  Rachel threw down the glass and she felt the metal against the back of her head removed. She rushed to Ryan and buried her face in his chest, who did his best to hold her with his damaged arms.

  “If you don’t drop that gun Robbie you’re fucking mincemeat,” said Frankie, drawing the engraved hatchet from its case. “You see this you hag faced, nippy fucking sweetie,” he snarled, tilting the blade so Jan could get a good look at her own name. “This is going to chop you up so small you won’t need a coffin, a matchbox will do and your little boy too if he doesn’t drop that fucking gun.”

  “No don’t, please,” said Nick. He turned his attention back to his brother. “Robbie, listen to me. Do you honestly think Dad would have walked into that warehouse to meet the Slatterys with just one person? No way. He would have taken all of us with him. He thought he was meeting Chris, who said he had Vic Slattery waiting for him, done up like a fucking kipper. But he never did, it was just bait.”

  Robbie was looking more and more uncertain. Of all his family, Nick was the one he looked up to, the one he trusted most. “Mum?” he said helplessly.

  She was ghost white with blood loss and when she gave a derisive laugh, more of it poured from her mouth.

  “He was so fucking weak,” she gasped. “He was going to have our family running round after the Slatterys like lapdogs. I couldn’t allow that. We’re Jordans, we’re better than that. He’d lost his bottle, couldn’t face battling them anymore.”

  “So you decided to get him out of the way,” said Nick in a cold hard voice. “Why Andy? How could you do that to your own boy?”

  “Because he was just as weak as your dad. If he’d taken over he’d still have caved in to the Slatterys.” Her eyes filled with disgust. “Just like you’ve caved in to the Maguires, you’re even weaker than they were.”

  “Keep your insults Jan,” retorted Nick, unable to bring himself to call her mum. “All I care about is keeping me and my brother alive.”

  Robbie looked back to his mum. “Please tell me it’s not true.”

  She released a gurgle, which they all translated as a laugh. “You’re as bad as the rest of them, whining little puppy. I should have drowned you both at birth. Chris was more of a man than either of you.”

  “You dirty old bitch, he was your nephew for fuck’s sake,” exclaimed Nick. “And Rachel was right, you do want to be her but you’re nothing compared to her. Now the whole family’s dead, all of them. There’s only us three left, but God only knows for how much longer. Jesus, I can’t believe this.”

  Robbie was staring down at his mother in horror. “You’ve destroyed us. Does that mean anything to you?”

  All she did was release that horrid gurgling laugh, eyes rolling about in her head.

  “You know there’s only one solution to this mess?” Alex said quietly.

  Nick nodded. He’d have to do something that was utterly repellent to him if he and his brother were to survive. “Give me the gun Robbie.”

  “Why?” he said, looking panic-stricken.

  “You know why,” he sighed. Nick hadn’t felt so tired in his whole life. All he wanted to do was curl up and sleep but there was much to be done first.

  “But…” Robbie looked down at his mother helplessly, who stared back at him with derision in her hard eyes.

  “Still so weak,” she smirked.

  “Surely there’s another way?” said a desperate Robbie.

  “Jeezo,” sighed an irritated Frankie. “Fucking southern poof. We might wear the skirts in my country but you’re the fucking girls. Get out of my way, I want to try out this wee beauty,” he said, gripping the hatchet in one hand and swinging it through the air.

  “Wait Frankie. They have to do this, to prove where their loyalties now lie,” Alex told him, gesturing to the Jordan brothers.

  “Aye, I suppose,” he said, disappointed. “But I still want my pound of flesh.”

  He brought down the axe, severing Jan’s left hand at the wrist, causing her to scream, the sound like fingernails down a chalkboard.

  “That’s for Tony and Andy you mad bitch,” he spat in her face. Frankie looked to Rachel. “Want to take your own, for your son?”

  She looked at the hatchet he held out to her, gazed at the drop of blood sliding from the blade in fascination, then looked to the woman who was finished, lying helpless on the floor. Robbie was completely distraught but even after everything she’d done, she was still his mum and for a second Rachel thought she couldn’t do it. But the memory of her little boy cold in her arms, murdered by this woman, filled her with resolve. Jan hadn’t had any concern for her child, so why should she have any for hers? Ryan wouldn’t have hesitated. This was the revenge he’d been after to finally bring him some peace, he needed this but he wasn’t physically capable, so it was down to her.

  “Thank you Frankie,” she said, accepting the hatchet from him.

  Rachel took a couple of deep breaths, praying she had the strength left, her battered body aching to rest. She needn’t have worried. The sharpened blade passed through bone and sinew like it was butter and another scream filled the air.

  Declan thought he might throw up. This was his trial by fire, to show he was worthy of joining the Maguires. Now he’d proved himself his brothers would be invited to join too. He’d killed someone tonight for the first time, shot them point blank in the face. Until that moment he hadn’t understood how a shotgun worked, that it released an arc of lead that shredded anything in its path and it had obliterated the man’s entire head. Already he felt different inside but as yet he didn’t know how, he was still high on adrenaline. Neither could he believe that he’d just watched Rachel hack off another woman’s hand, for him that had been the most chilling part of the night. Despite the presence of so many dangerous men with guns, she was the scariest thing in the room.

  Frankie picked up the appendage and held it out to Rachel. “There you go. Get it mounted and put up on your wall.”

  Rachel wrinkled her nose up at the dripping limb. “Thanks but you keep it, then you’ve got the set.”

  “Nice idea,” he grinned, pulling a large Tupperware box from the holdall. Frankie had a collection of pieces from people who had upset him. Jan Jordan’s hands would no doubt take pride of place. “Look at that Jan,” he grinned, holding the box up for her to see. “You’re pretty ‘armless now. You get it, armless?”

  Robbie appeared on the verge
of passing out. “This is so fucked up,” he murmured, eyes fixed on his mother writhing in agony. Lucky for her she was starting to ebb in and out of consciousness.

  “Do it now,” Frankie told Nick, “while she still knows what’s happening.”

  Alex looked to Rachel and Ryan. “Maybe you two should get out of here first?”

  Rachel nodded. She wanted no more of this. “Can someone give us a lift to the hospital?”

  “No, you can see my doctor instead. He’ll patch you up.” Alex had a special surgeon who patched up stab wounds and dug out bullets, completely separate to the one who tended to the women at his gentleman’s club. It was important those two worlds were kept entirely separate.

  “I’m not taking Ryan to that drunken old bastard, he needs a hospital,” she protested.

  “We can’t have the police sniffing round.”

  “He could have broken ribs, which could lead to punctured lungs and his knee’s broken. He needs proper medical care and don’t you dare try and stop us.”

  “Rachel, you can’t, surely you see that?”

  “I’ll give you a lift,” said Jez, putting his brother’s arm around his shoulders and helping him to his feet.

  “Jez…” began Alex.

  But Jez cut him off. “Don’t you fucking dare Alex. This mess is all down to your bad judgment and my brother almost died today to dig you out of the shit so don’t you dare tell him he can’t go to hospital.”

  Alex appeared furious but decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. “You make up a fucking good story, understand?”

  Rachel gave him a disgusted look. “Just make sure one of the coppers in your pocket gets sent to interview us.”

  When Nick stood over his mum and aimed his gun at her face, Rachel, Ryan and Jez left. Rachel paused to look back, just able to see Jan’s legs sticking out of the doorway, the men looking on solemnly. There was a loud bang and Jan’s legs jumped then went still. The person who had caused Thomas’s death was dead herself, but Rachel still felt empty inside.

  Both Ryan and Rachel’s injuries were severe enough to get them admitted to the ward. Rachel was the less injured of the two and Jez sat with her while they waited for news on Ryan, who’d been taken for an x-ray on his knee. Due to their notoriety in the city, they were both given private rooms.

  “Thank you Jez,” said Rachel, grasping his hand. “I don’t know how I would have got Ryan out of there without you.”

  “I’m fucking furious at Alex, wanting to send you both to his butcher. This is all his fault too, if he’d handled the Jordans better it never would have happened. I told him they needed sorting but he wouldn’t listen, thought he knew best. Wanker.”

  “Ryan tried to tell me but I wouldn’t listen either. Then Thomas died.”

  “Don’t you dare blame yourself,” he said, shaking with rage. Rachel had never seen him so angry before. “You were only trying to help because Alex lacked the balls to deal with the Jordans. Newcastle and Liverpool didn’t know what Jan was up to, she’d gone rogue. Apparently she wasn’t related to them, they were Tony’s blood. Nick killing her means we won’t have any fallout from them anyway.”

  “Nick protected me, he stopped the others going too far. Tell Alex that won’t you? I don’t want him getting hurt.”

  “I don’t think he will hurt him, he was the one who told us where you were before Jan phoned. Ryan going in was all part of the plan.”

  Despite her pain and exhaustion, her head snapped up. “What?”

  “He was a distraction, giving Nick the chance to switch off the CCTV and the power so the rest of us could approach the house without them noticing. We got Mark Cameron in place, he was the one who fired through the window, bloody amazing shot. You remember Mark the hitman, we went to see him after Danny died?”

  She recalled the tall craggy-faced ex-soldier. “I do. But why did Ryan have to act as bait? Jan wanted Alex there.”

  “Alex wasn’t exactly an eager volunteer,” he said bitterly. “That blokes changing, the power’s going to his head. He’s not Frank or Danny.”

  She recalled how he wasn’t going to let her and Ryan get to a hospital and nodded. Alex had never been what you’d call a good man but he used to have some integrity. However, since he’d been in sole charge of the family, he was losing that quality. The old adage was true, power did corrupt.

  They were interrupted by a nurse telling them they could see Ryan and Jez helped her limp down the corridor and into his room. She burst into tears when she saw him, his face even more swollen and bruised, left leg in a cast, fingers in splints. His bare torso and arms were riddled with cuts and bruises.

  “Rachel?” he mumbled, only able to see through his left eye, the right one swollen shut.

  “I’m here Babe,” she said, hurrying to his side and taking his hand. “What did the doctor say?”

  “Fractured kneecap, broken fingers, cracked ribs, missing teeth, shit load of bruises.”

  “Oh God Ryan I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

  He touched her face with his bruised, splinted fingers. “You okay?”

  “Fine. You took the worst of it. You nearly died in there. What were you doing, just walking in like that?” she exclaimed, tears running down her face.

  “Had to,” he murmured. “Distraction.”

  “The Jordans could have shot you the minute you walked through the door.”

  “Risk…worth taking…for you.”

  He’d been given strong painkillers that were making him drowsy and he was desperately trying to stay awake but it was a losing battle and soon he was snoring softly, Rachel sitting by his side and stroking his hair, the only part of him that wasn’t bruised.

  Jez left to help with the clean up at the farm and a detective constable in Alex’s pay arrived to take her statement. She made up some crap about a gang attacking them in the local park and demanding money. No, she didn’t get a look at their faces, they were wearing masks. The constable told her he’d look into it and left. She knew she wouldn’t hear about it again.

  Alex drove while Mikey, Frankie and Declan stared out of the windows in silence as they left the moor behind. All were tired and streaked with mud after ensuring the Jordans were buried where no one would ever find them. Robbie and Nick were in the car behind, being driven back to the city by Battler and Bruiser. They’d already agreed to work for the Maguires. If they hadn’t then they would have joined the rest of their family in a deep dark hole in the ground.

  “I need a drink. Anyone fancy coming to my new bar? It’ll be shut by now so we can have the place to ourselves,” said Declan.

  “Aye, I’m up for it Pal. I’ve some celebrating to do,” grinned Frankie, patting the holdall containing his hatchet and Jan Jordan’s hands.

  “Not for me thanks. I’m off to Amber’s,” said Mikey, just wanting to bury himself in her after the shitty night he’d had.

  “I’d better get home to Beth, she’ll be worried sick about Rachel,” said Alex. “Why don’t you take Robbie and Nick with you, sound them out just to make sure they’re definitely on our side?”

  “Will do,” said Frankie.

  After dropping Mikey off at Amber’s flat and the rest at Declan’s bar, Alex headed for home. Halfway there he did a u-turn and headed in the direction of his gentleman’s club instead. He was in no mood for Beth and her crap and he couldn’t bear the prospect of her questions about Rachel. He wished the Jordans had fucking chopped her to bits or Robbie had shot her, it would have been justice after what she did to Danny but once again she had lived to tell the tale, she’d more lives than a fucking cat. But that would have been unsatisfactory, he wanted to kill her himself, he wanted her to know that he was responsible for her death.

  He snuck through the back door of his club and went straight up to Katia’s room. She wasn’t there, occupied with escorting their clients about the club and he spent a few minutes wandering around her room, running his hands over the silk bed sheets, her clothes, breathin
g in the scent of her, it calmed him. When he could contain himself no longer he pulled out his mobile phone.

  “Hello?” she said when she answered. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you tonight.”

  “Come up to your room. Now.”

  A minute later there was the sound of her high heels on the stairs then the door opened and she walked in, her smile falling. “What happened? You’re covered in mud.”

  “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

  “I’ll get you a drink, you are very pale.”

  She poured him a brandy from the bottle sat on a sideboard and handed it to him, which he knocked back in one go.

  “I can have your clothes washed,” she said.

  He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the white leather couch, revealing his impressive physique.

  Katia studied him thoughtfully and smiled. “You look just like I imagined.”

  “Imagined it often, have you?”

  “Since the moment I saw you.”

  “God I want you Katia.”

  “I know. What’s stopping you?”

  He thought of Beth, then looked at the goddess before him. “Nothing.”

  Grabbing her, he yanked her against him and kissed her hard. She groaned into his mouth, one leg wrapping itself around his waist as he pushed her up against the wall.

  “If we do this Katia, it means you’re mine,” he said, hitching up her skirt. “No other man touches you, ever.”

  “I’m already yours,” she replied, unzipping him as he pulled down her panties. She cried out as he thrust inside her and started to move furiously. No man had ever made her feel sexual pleasure before, but Alex did.

  “If they do, I’ll kill them and you,” he panted, pushing up into her hard.

  “I swear, no other man will get to be with me like this.”

  “Mine,” he rasped, ripping open her blouse. “Just mine.”

  She threw her head back, his name falling from her lips as she came.

  “Jesus Katia,” he growled as she took him with her, slamming his palm into the wall next to her head as every muscle in his body tensed.