Reprisal (The Cardigan Estate Book 2)

by Emmy Ellis

  Beth nodded. “It’s just that you said a man would be waiting in the taxi, and I got flustered and—”

  “I said someone. You assumed it was a man.”

  She nodded.

  Sarah jumped in. “I heard about what he did to you. What they did to you.” She gave a sad smile. “You’re not the only one they were bastards to.”

  “You fucking what?” Greg left the coffee-making duty and plonked his hands on the island. “You’ve been in that fucking basement?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No, but if I hadn’t got away from him, I might have done.”

  “Got away from him? When?” George asked.

  “There are things you don’t know. About me. About what I used to do before I was on Debbie’s corner.”

  “Bloody hell.” Greg moved away again. “Why didn’t you come to us? We’d have helped you.”

  “It was back when Cardigan ran things. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.” Sarah looked down and drew circles on the island with her fingertip. “I didn’t want you knowing what a screw-up I am and telling Mum and Dad. You don’t know the half of what it was like growing up with them as parents. They wanted me to be a boy, did you know that? They bought me lad’s clothes. I just wanted…wanted to be a girl. Your beloved cousin is a wanker.”

  “What sort of wanker?” George cocked his head, trying to get her attention. “We’d still have sorted Lime for you, no matter what, and if your dad needs talking to, just say the word.”

  She waved his question away. “I’ll maybe tell you another time. I couldn’t say anything about Lime because…I’ve…done things.” Sarah wasn’t sure whether to ask Beth to leave. Should she blurt it all out in front of her? “If I tell you all”—she stared at Beth, hard—“then I need assurance that it won’t go anywhere else.”

  Beth held her hands up. “I’m not after causing trouble. All I want is for my gran to be okay, all right? If you’ve done stuff, I really don’t care. I want this to end. I want Lime and Dave dead, that’s it. Then I’ll go back to my life on the corner and mind my own fucking business.” She sighed. “Besides, do you think these two are going to let me off the hook that easily? I know things, I know what’s going on tonight, and I could go to the police. I’m not stupid, I’m a risk for them, and any second, they could kill me, too. So, if you think I’m going to open my mouth, think again. I’ll do whatever George and Greg want if it means my gran’s looked after.”

  Sarah glanced at George. He nodded. Greg handed out coffees then sat beside his brother. There were a few seconds where they all looked at each other in turn, weighing each individual up. Sarah reckoned it was now or never. She had to get this off her chest, out of her head. Killing Lime and Dave wouldn’t absolve her, nor would it wipe the guilt away, but if she just had one of them, didn’t matter who, telling her it wasn’t her fault, maybe she could move on.

  She told them about her starting out on one of Lime’s corners, how they’d tested her over the pub table, and all the rules she had to follow. Then came the biggest crime of all.

  “I killed a punter.”

  Beth gasped. Greg remained stoic.

  George laughed. “Is that all?”

  Sarah frowned. “What? I killed someone, didn’t you hear me?”

  “Yep, nothing wrong with my ears. He probably deserved it.” George drummed his fingertips on the island. “Didn’t he?”

  “No, he didn’t.” She shook her head, seeing Drippy on the bank all over again, and a shudder of disgust rippled through her—disgust at herself. “They made me do it, just because I’d gone outside the working boundaries.”

  “Hang on,” Greg said, “you had to kill a bloke because you broke one of his stupid rules?”

  She bit her lip until it hurt. “I knew it was wrong, telling the bloke to drive farther out, yet I did it anyway, just so they wouldn’t watch us, you know, doing it. I had to drown him in a stream. Dave set fire to his car—the punter’s—and they dropped me off near The Flag. Then a copper came and asked questions. They knew I’d got in his car, see. I had to make out I did him down at the warehouses and then went home. It was on bloody CCTV.”

  “How did this even come about?” Beth asked quietly.

  “Lime and Dave followed us in Drippy’s car. I got him to turn off the dual carriageway, and we did it by the stream. Then those two turned up.”

  “What happened after that?” George’s cheeks flared red. “How did you get away from Lime, from working for him?”

  “I hung around for a few months so he wouldn’t suspect anything, then I came to work on Debbie’s corner. His patch was far enough away that I wouldn’t have to see him again. I just had to hope I didn’t bump into him elsewhere. In his eyes, I belonged to him. It’s nothing like working Debbie’s corner, where you get to keep all your earnings and she doesn’t bother you.”

  “How long ago did this happen?” Greg swiped a hand over his face. “I mean, I’m trying to work out how long Lime’s been waiting to beat you up, how long he’s been looking for you.”

  “I came to Debbie’s after Cardigan died and you two took over. I didn’t think he’d come for me on your patch. I was well wrong there, wasn’t I.”

  George shook his head. “You put the other girls in danger, love.”

  Shame came along for the ride. She slapped her hand on the island, more angry at herself than George for pointing out her lack of concern for the others. She knew exactly what she’d done, didn’t need reminding of it. “Don’t you think I know that? Every fucking day since I left him, I’ve been looking over my shoulder. They could have come to my place, got me when I stepped out of the taxi at home. I told you he was at the shop at the end of my bloody road. What if he recognised me despite the bruises and is just biding his time? Or did he think the kicking I got was enough?” Tears fell. “I couldn’t ask his permission to leave his patch because he wouldn’t have let me. I kept my head down after, thought he’d stay away from Debbie’s, but he found me anyway.”

  “I’d have done the same,” Beth said. “I do what I do to keep my gran in a care home.” She closed her eyes for a moment, maybe composing herself. “They knew that and used it against me. Must have been watching me for a while to know I went and visited her. After what happened in that basement… I want to stand there and watch them getting killed. You deserve that, too.”

  Sarah looked from Greg to George.

  They nodded.

  “We’ll have to go through what’s going to happen.” George massaged his temples. “You need to do exactly as we tell you.” He stared into Sarah’s eyes. “And if you’re beating yourself up about killing that geezer, don’t. It wasn’t your fault. Leaving the boundary or not, you shouldn’t have had to do that.”

  Sarah sagged with relief. At last, he saw it from her side.

  Greg patted her shoulder. “Now then, so we’ve all got something on each other, an assurance none of us will tell, here’s what we’re going to do.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Richie and Dave stood in the darkness down by the river wall. Dave had loaded his gun, slotting the silencer on it, and Richie had put his axe down, hiding it in the long grass. The plan was for Dave to shoot and Richie to have the pleasure of chopping those fuckers up.

  He hadn’t asked any of his men to help, wanting this kept as quiet as possible so when news came that The Brothers had gone missing, they could play dumb without worrying anyone else would open their mouths. If word got out it was Richie and Dave, Richie would know exactly who’d grassed him up.

  Dave.

  They’d walked round the back of Richie’s house when they’d left, keeping to the shadows and getting into an old car still registered to the previous owner—it had been stolen for this job by some skanky kid who’d do anything for fifty quid. Dave had switched the number plates to random ones, and they’d got in the vehicle where it had been left behind The Nag’s Hoof.

  Now, it was parked one warehouse along, down the
side, the doors unlocked, the keys in the ignition for a quick getaway.

  Now all they had to do was move up the grass slope and keep watch from the side of The Brothers’ warehouse, watch them enter with whatever poor unfortunate was being killed by them tonight, then go back to the wall and crouch, weapons at the ready. Once the twins came down to chuck the body in the river, they’d pounce.

  Richie tapped Dave’s arm, and they crept to the agreed spot, plastering their backs to the wall of the building. The BMW arrived, and Greg got out to open the gates. George drove through while Greg pushed the gates to, and Richie caught sight of those two bitches in the back.

  What were they doing here?

  Richie tapped Dave again, and they silently moved to the river wall.

  The engine stopped.

  Car doors opened and closed.

  Another door opened.

  Footsteps.

  Once he was sure they were all inside, Richie whispered, “Did you see what I saw?”

  “Makes sense to me.”

  “How?”

  “Maybe it’s Beth they’re killing. They could have found out she’s double-crossing them.”

  “What about Sarah?”

  “She’s family. They might have used her to put Beth at ease, get her to go with her. They work the corner together, might be mates.”

  Richie thought for a moment. “I quite liked having that little bitch on our side. She’s useful. We could put her to work finding all sorts of shit out for us. A mole with the girls on Debbie’s corner.”

  “Hmm.”

  “We’ll go round the front. Now.”

  “What?” Dave sounded exasperated. “We made a plan, stick to it. We get them when they come down here to dump the body.”

  “No, I want Beth alive—but Sarah, you can kill her as well as the twins. She left my patch and deserves a bullet in the head.”

  “Fuck’s sake. Come on then.”

  They trudged up the incline. Excitement flew through Richie. At last, he’d see The Brothers and that bitch, Sarah, dead.

  And The Cardigan Estate would be his.

  Chapter Forty

  Outside, George, Greg, Sarah, and Beth stood by the back of the warehouse. Silent. Watching. Lime and Dave had just walked up the slope and disappeared down the side of the building.

  Beth’s heart rate scattered, and her pulse thudded so hard in her throat she felt sick. This was it, they were going to do it, kill the bastards.

  No turning back now.

  The front door of the warehouse snapped shut, the sound coming through as a dull thud. George moved to the other side of the rear door and opened it a slit, gun held up, the business end poking through the gap. Light from inside splashed on and painted a line down the middle of his face.

  “Where the fuck are they?” Lime said.

  “There’s another door over there. I’ll have a look.” Dave.

  Footsteps.

  George pulled the trigger.

  A yell. A thud. A “What the fuck?” from Dave.

  George pulled the trigger again.

  A male scream.

  Something clattered to the floor.

  George swung the door open and walked inside, gun raised. Greg went next, then Sarah, and Beth wasn’t sure if she wanted to follow. Did she want to see those two again, really? She thought she did, but…

  “I wouldn’t touch that gun if I were you, Dave,” George said.

  Chapter Forty-One

  George and Greg stood beside each other, and Sarah stared between them. Lime was on the floor, his leg bleeding, and he clutched it, his face pale. Dave was in the same situation, only he was standing, bent over slightly, his arm out as if he’d been about to snatch the gun from the floor. That must have been what the clatter was, one of them dropping it.

  She let out a long breath. It juddered, and her mouth dried out. The weapon was too far away for him to get to, and if he made a move for it, George would shoot him again.

  Beth came to stand beside Sarah and threaded her arm through the crook of hers. The poor cow shook, and her breathing was ragged. Eyes wide, she took in the scene. Despite her fear, a small smile played on her pretty lips. Sarah understood what it meant.

  The plan had worked.

  Sarah faced the wankers again. Lime attempted to stand, but he cried out in pain. Maybe the bullet had shattered his bone. He slumped onto his arse, bracing himself with his hands on the floor behind him. A little shuffle backwards gave away what he was trying to do.

  George shot him in the knee.

  The resulting scream and “Oh, Jesus Christ!” sounded so beautiful.

  “You absolute fucking pair of knobs,” Greg said.

  “Piss right off.” Dave hobbled forward, his leg also bleeding.

  George shot him in the belly.

  Dave went down backwards, cracking his head upon landing. He groaned, cuddling his stomach as if that would stop the agony, the blood, but it pumped through his fingers, staining his dark-grey top. Lime whipped his head across to look at him, and they stared for a few seconds.

  What are they thinking? We’re fucked? We underestimated them? We didn’t expect to be the ones on the other end of a gun?

  Sarah didn’t particularly give a shit. They’d got what was coming to them.

  “I have two bullets left,” George said. “Up to you where I put them. So far, we’ve got two shins, a knee, and a belly. Maybe you fancy one in each of your foreheads, eh?”

  “Fuck off,” Lime growled. “Did you think we came here alone? My men are out there. You’re bloody surrounded.”

  “So you say.” Greg walked over, all casual, and picked up the other gun. “There’s probably six shots in here, George. Add them to yours, and we could have a bit of fun with eight bullets.” He came back to stand by his brother.

  Dave managed to roll onto his side so he faced them. “What’s with the slags?” he wheezed out.

  Sarah’s anger burned. “Slags? You’re some piece of work, you are. You sample slags all the time.” She moved next to George, itching for the next step. “Didn’t hear you complaining. You got free sex from all of us on the regular.”

  “You can just do one,” Dave muttered. “Do this lot know you’re a murderer? Do they know how you drowned some bloke by sitting on him and shoving his face under the fucking water?”

  “Yes, they do. So what?” She was glad she’d sounded sure of herself, like it didn’t matter what she’d done to Drippy. “I’ll be a murderer again in a minute, and this time, I want to do it.” God, how she wanted to.

  “Bollocks.” Lime’s knee still dripped blood. The material of his trousers was so soaked, some red droplets plopped on the floor. “You haven’t got the nerve.” He winced in pain, teeth clenched.

  They were harder men than she’d given them credit for, to cope with the pain like that. All right, they were white as anything, their breathing laboured, but they’d managed to get hold of themselves enough to talk.

  It was time to get things moving.

  Sarah looked at George. He handed her the gun.

  Lime laughed. “Really? You? Like you’ve got the fucking guts to shoot that thing.”

  She walked closer, hating the fact her hand shook, but so long as her aim was true, it didn’t matter. Lime would think it shook from fear, but it was anger, lots of it. George had shown her how to shoot tin cans in his back garden earlier, and while she’d managed to hit a couple, she’d missed more often than not.

  This time, she didn’t plan on missing. Her target was bigger. Uglier.

  She stopped about a metre away, so he couldn’t swipe at her legs and bring her down, and pointed the gun at his forehead. Sarah had chosen Lime, the one who’d forced her to do so many things, while Beth had opted for Dave, the man who’d snatched her off the street and wasn’t nice to her while she’d been in the basement.

  “I can’t even say I hate you,” Sarah said, “because that would mean I care in a way, that you have an effect
on me.” The lie hurt to say, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing what he’d put her through, how afraid of him she’d been. “You’re nothing, you’re just a worthless piece of shite, and I’ll enjoy seeing whatever leader is next taking over your patch.”

  Lime grimaced. “Just get it over with.”

  She could have waited, done as he’d asked, let him fret for a bit, but she couldn’t stand looking at his face any longer. Taking a proper aim, she closed one eye to ensure the bullet would hit its mark. Pulled the trigger.

  The back of his head exploded, brain and bone spraying, landing on the floor behind him. His wide eyes displayed his shock that she’d actually done it, then he fell onto his back, arms out to his sides, one finger pointing accusingly at Dave, who closed his eyes and clamped his lips shut.

  There, it was done. She’d killed one of them.

  Now it was Beth’s turn.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Greg passed the gun he held to Beth. She received it with silent thanks, desperate now to use it on Dave, her previous trepidation gone, replaced with courage once she’d seen Sarah kill Lime. This one had an extra piece on the end, a silencer, and six glorious bullets.

  I can do this. He deserves to die.

  She remembered the cruel things he’d said to her in the basement, how he’d jeered, mocked, and had her feeling small, a dirty girl who didn’t deserve anything, and all because she went with men for money.

  Dave eyed her, pushing himself up on one hand. So he must want to face her sitting up, not as an easy target lying on the floor. Blood oozed from his stomach wound, and his shin bled quite a bit, too. She idly wondered how much blood was left in his body and whether he’d pass out before she got the chance to kill him. She wanted to see the fear in his eyes as she shot him.

  She took several steps forward and stopped the same distance away from him as Sarah had with Lime. The Brothers had warned them of any tricks the men would play. She was by Dave’s feet, and he drew one leg towards his body, the one that wasn’t bleeding. With his hand on the floor and his foot positioned like that, he could heave himself upright and go for her.