Reviving Heaven (Room 103 Book 6)

by D H Sidebottom

  “Relax.” I smirked. “If you get fired I heard MacDonald’s are looking for staff. All the breakfast, lunch, and dinner you can eat.”

  “Oh, well, that’s alright then,” he griped as he slid into the car beside me. “And what about him?” he asked, nodding his head towards the picnic carnage.

  “Don’t really think he’s gonna bail on us, Jim. Besides, I saw a copy of Romeo and Juliet amongst his things, least he's got something to read while he waits.”

  “You’re all heart.”

  “And brains, Jim. All heart and brains.”

  “With what we’re about to do, that remains to be seen,” he remarked as I swung the car around and left Mark Denver in the safe hands of William Shakespeare.

  ***

  Superintendent Sally Greaves didn’t even attempt to hide her fear when she opened her eyes and found my gun wedged between her teeth.

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

  She mumbled something, and I moved the gun from her mouth and pressed it to her forehead.

  “How-How the hell did you get in?”

  She had a K100 an inch from her brain and she was curious as to how I infiltrated her home. She really was crazy.

  “Please,” I scoffed. Leaning into her ear, I pressed the gun harder into her skull. “They teach us all sorts in the SIS, you know.”

  “You think I’m supposed to be surprised by that, Cole?”

  “Not at all, I would be disappointed if you hadn’t done your homework on me.”

  She glared up at me, using her eyes as weapons. “What do you want?”

  “I want everything you have on Nikolay Kuznetsov and Yulian Markoff.”

  Her eyes widened, and she had the gall to laugh. “The Bratva boss? You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Do I look like I’m joking?”

  “Fuck you! I’d rather die from a bullet in my forehead than go against the Bratva!”

  It was my turn to laugh then. “Oh, who said I was going to kill you? Nuh-uh. I’m going to make sure you go down for a very, very long time. And,” I smirked, “You’ll be able to become reacquainted with every single woman you’ve put in prison, Superintendent.”

  “You cunt!” she hissed.

  “Get up!”

  “Shoot me!” she taunted, shrugging.

  “I thought you’d refuse to play,” I mocked, before shouting over my shoulder. “Jim!”

  Jimmy walked in with an open laptop in his hands. “Morning, Superintendent Greaves,” he chirped as he settled on the bed beside her.

  “I’ll have your badge for this, Mathers.”

  Jimmy laughed. “I doubt it.”

  Sally frowned when Jimmy started working on his laptop, then turning the screen towards Sally, he winked. “Well look at that, the force finally found out who killed Padraic Fedorov.”

  Sally shook her head, distress making her tremble when she saw her own name as Padraic’s executor on the MET’s case file. Give Jimmy his due, he knew his stuff.

  “Oh dear,” I grinned. “When the Bratva find out it was you who took out one of their own, I dread to think what will happen. I know they have access to all the records, Greaves, and I know you’re on their payroll. You’re going down for a very long time.”

  “You can’t do this, you bastard.”

  Clicking my tongue, I patted her cheek. “Or, if you don’t fancy sharing a cell with a brutal bitch, you can just give us a name. I just need a pointer in the right direction, and Jimmy here can delete all the evidence we have on you, and the fact that you assassinated Padraic.”

  “I didn’t kill Padraic Fedorov!” she exclaimed.

  Rolling my eyes dramatically, I nodded. “Well, we know that. But Markoff doesn’t… yet.”

  “I presume this is over that whore of yours,” she spat with venom. She cried out when I struck her with the butt of the gun.

  “Watch your mouth!”

  Sally clenched her jaw, but her shoulders sagged in defeat. “I’ll meet you halfway.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I looked at her dubiously. “Go on.”

  She hesitated, and I pressed the gun to her cheek.

  “I know you’re looking for Lily’s brother,” she revealed, surprising me.

  I nodded with respect. “Very astute, Superintendent Greaves.”

  She glanced at Jimmy. “You’re not as covert as you like to think, Mathers. I’ve been monitoring your logins for a while now.”

  “Back to Lily’s brother.” I tapped the gun on her temple. “There’s no record of him after his birth.”

  “No, there isn’t. That’s because the Bratva made sure to delete him from every document.”

  “They forgot his birth record.”

  “His birth record doesn’t make a difference. It couldn’t ever reveal who he is.”

  “But I take it you do know who he is?”

  The smug grin on her face had me stiffening. “Give me a name, or I give Markoff yours!”

  She chuckled, her arrogance making my trigger finger twitch. “He’s been right under your nose all this time, Cole.”

  “Who! Dammit!”

  She winked at me. “Non-identical twins, Anastasia Yaroslav and Marat Yaroslav were born to a Russian woman, Anna Yaroslav, in the US. She was taking refuge from the Russian Mafia after she’d racked up a heroin debt with them. She managed to flee the country before they held up their promise to take her life as payment. Of course, the Bratva boss, who was Kirill Volkov at the time, didn’t know she was pregnant, and if he had, then he’d have come up with a much more creative way of hurting her without harming her babies.” She snorted. “Kirill was always a sucker for a baby.”

  “Get on with it!” I hissed, growing more frustrated by the second.

  She glared up at me. “Although Anastasia was adopted at birth, Marat remained in his mother’s care until she died from an overdose four years later.”

  “This is all very interesting, but…”

  “Anastasia became Lily Cooper. And aged seven, after moving from care home to care home for three years, Marat was adopted by Kirill after he visited America to scour children’s home for more kids to ‘save’. It was in one of those homes that he noticed a quiet, withdrawn little boy who was cowered in a corner after some of the other boys had beaten him. He was then given the new name of Erik Barinov.”

  I frowned, shaking my head at the name. “Never heard of him.”

  “Of course, you haven’t,” she laughed. “That’s because a year ago, after numerous attempts to ruin Lily’s life failed, he took on a new identity to seek out and destroy his sister personally.”

  I was growing impatient, and just as I was about to force the name from her with a hole in her kneecap, she leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, “Erik was rechristened Liam Barnett.”

  Thirty-eight

  Lily

  I was still in shock when Liam pulled down a quiet residential street. I couldn’t believe how he had shot Mark so coldly. One split second, and he’d taken a life, without care or even remorse.

  “Why?” I finally managed to ask when Liam steered the car into a driveway and parked up at the rear of the house. “Why?”

  He turned to me and gave me a soft smile. “Harry will explain it all. Come on.”

  I peered apprehensively at the house. There wasn’t anything peculiar about it, but if Harry was inside, then why weren’t there any lights on? “Harry’s in there?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Liam nodded before he opened the door and got out.

  My legs were still shaking with shock when I stepped out of the car, and if Liam hadn’t come around to me I’d have crumbled to the floor.

  “It’s okay,” he soothed, “It’s natural. There’s some vodka inside. That’ll set you right.”

  “A full bottle?” I asked in a shaky breath. I’d need a litre of the bloody stuff just to erase the image of the river of blood gushing down Mark’s face. So much blood from such a small hole.

  Liam laughed bu
t nodded. “Sure, poppet.”

  He supported my trembling frame and led me inside. Flicking on the lights, he manoeuvred me onto one of the kitchen chairs and went straight to the freezer, producing a large bottle of vodka.

  “You thought ahead, huh?”

  My hands shook when he passed me a full tumbler, and as I guided it to my mouth and took a hefty swallow, I looked around the small kitchen. It was quite dated and hadn’t appeared to be renovated since the late seventies. The large brown flowers on the mustard coloured tiles were a testimony to that.

  “Is this your grandparent’s house?”

  He grabbed a bottle of whisky off the side and sat down next to me, also pouring himself a large measure, and chuckled. “No. It’s a friend’s house.”

  I nodded, taking another drink. “You said Harry was here.”

  “No, I said he’d meet us here.”

  He was lying. Not a moment ago, outside, when I had asked if Harry was inside, he’d replied, ‘Mm-hmm.’

  Another recollection of our conversation at the picnic site whistled through my mind.

  “Harry sent me to fetch you. He’s found something from the note. I’m to take you back to his immediately.”

  This most certainly wasn’t Harry’s house.

  “What’s going on, Liam?”

  He blew out a long breath and stared straight at me. “Harry found who sent you that note.”

  “But he thought it was just from a fan, practical joke kinda thing.” I was about to take another drink of vodka when something occurred to me. I made myself retrace Liam’s steps when we’d entered. He had sat me down then had pulled the bottle from the freezer. I glanced at the bottle, apart from the measure he’d poured me, the bottle was full - Yet, I hadn’t heard the grating of the seal breaking when he opened it.

  Placing my glass down, I gulped back the panic and levelly asked, “Oh, really? How long before he gets here do you think?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure, but I can promise that he’ll be here very shortly.”

  I nodded. “How can you be so sure?”

  He glanced at me, and the lick of amusement in his eyes told me he knew I’d cottoned on that something wasn’t right. “Oh, I’m quite positive. See,” he waggled his eyebrows at me. “I have some things that belong to him, and I have no doubt he’ll want them back.”

  My throat was starting to close in, and I forced the lump of fear back down into my chest. “Really, what’s that?”

  Surprising me, he stood up and held his hand out for me to take. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  I stumbled on shaky legs as I followed him along a hallway and up the staircase. My heart was going crazy and making each adrenalised step I took an effort.

  Liam paused at a door and turned to me. “I thought we could have a party.”

  I frowned, unsure whether he was insane or not.

  And when he opened the door, I realised, that in fact, Liam Barnett was indeed crazy.

  Thirty-nine

  Lily

  Philly whimpered when I rushed over to her. Her tiny face was tear-streaked, and her little body trembled.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Tammy who was bound to a chair by a width of rope around her midriff. Her hands sat in her lap, and she stuck up a thumb and nodded, unable to verbally answer due to the gag that was stuffed into her mouth.

  Philly was tied in the same way and I spun around and glared at Liam. “She’s a child!”

  He shrugged, his expression cold and full of hatred. “It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.”

  “Will you quit with the fucking quotes!”

  Philly cried out when Liam snatched me by the hair and dragged me across the room, throwing me against the corner of the wall. Spittle sprayed my face when he brought his face close to mine and spat, “From now on you speak only when I allow it!”

  “Fuck you!” I bit out defiantly.

  Overwhelming pain tore through me when his booted foot splintered one of my ribs. I doubled over, wrapping myself in my arms like it would stop the agony.

  Philly was sobbing, her terrified eyes glued to me. Moving my hands, I told her I was okay, but it didn’t lessen her loud muffled cries.

  Liam lifted a chair and placed it in front of me. Sitting down, he crossed his ankles and sat back, regarding me. “You know, you’re nothing like I expected.”

  “When’s Harry getting here?”

  He scowled at my query, displeased that I had ignored his remark. “When I’m good and ready to let him know where you are. I thought we should get to know one another before I summon him.”

  “Summon him?” I scoffed. “Who the fuck do you think you are? God?” Why couldn’t I just shut the hell up?

  His fist connected with my cheek before I had the chance to move. Pain ruptured across my face, and I knew he’d broken my cheekbone. I’d have no bones left at this rate, so I wisely shut up.

  “Yes, when I summon him. I have a few friends waiting to give him a nice warm welcome.” His sinister grin had the breath in my lungs exploding out of me in a choked cry.

  “Liam… No, please!” Terror forced dread through my veins, and my heart began to stampede, making me lightheaded.

  “Then I suggest you shut the fuck up.” He pulled out his phone, and hitting a few buttons, he turned the screen my way. Harry’s name was displayed, and I shook my head when his finger hovered over the call icon. “All it takes is one call and I alert my friends to Harry’s arrival.”

  “I’ll be quiet. I promise,” I assured him quickly. The pain in my cheek worsened with each word I spoke, and I pressed my hand to my face like it would relieve the throb. Shutting up was definitely the better idea, for more than one reason.

  “Now,” Liam sat back once again. “Where were we?”

  I remained silent, and seeming to approve of my muted tongue, Liam grinned and nodded at me. “Good girl. Now, I think it’s an appropriate time to introduce myself properly.”

  I reared back when he stuck his hand out. “Erik Barinov. Pleased to meet you, Anastasia.”

  I frowned, shaking my head. “Anastasia?” I winced, expecting another punch in the face, but apparently, it was okay to converse now.

  “Your real name is Anastasia Yaroslav.”

  Stunned, I gasped. “I’m Russian?”

  He nodded, smiling – it was quite creepy. “Yes. Our mother was Anna Yaroslav.”

  I couldn’t make my mouth move. My brain froze in shock as his words played on repeat in my head. ‘Our mother.’ ‘Our mother.’

  He chuckled, lifting his leg and supporting his ankle on his knee. “That’s right, Anastasia, we’re siblings. Twins to be more specific. Not identical of course.”

  “But, if I’m your sister then why are you trying to hurt me?”

  He stared at me incredulously, as if I’d said something insanely ridiculous. Scoffing, he shook his head and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. I scurried back further into the wall like it would protect me.

  “Have you any idea what my childhood was like, Anastasia?” I wished he’d stop calling me that! It seemed that his question was rhetorical because he didn’t wait for me to answer. “Up until the age of four, I was beaten on a daily basis by our whore of a mother’s pimps!”

  The calculating coldness in his eyes vanished and staring back at me was a timid, frightened little boy.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Hmm,” he mumbled. “And when she finally got it right and succeeded in killing herself after numerous bodged attempts, I was then shifted from one children’s home to another. Seven, in fact.”

  “Liam…”

  Philly screamed around her gag, her body thrashing when Liam’s fingers encircled my throat and he squeezed hard. “My name is Erik! Don’t be a bitch and play nice!”

  The force on my windpipe was so severe I could feel my Adam’s apple crush under the strength of him.

  “What’s my name, Anastasia?” I wanted to
scream at him that my name was Lily but decided against it when he removed his hold on me. I coughed, spluttering as my lungs gulped for oxygen.

  “Erik,” I rasped, still struggling to cope with the suppression of my throat.

  He nodded sharply and stood up. “Better!”

  When he began pacing the room, I glanced at Philly, checking on her after she had quietened down. But I didn’t see her face. My gaze zeroed in on a locket that hung around her neck from a simple silver chain. It rested against her chest, and the three tiny diamonds in the centre sparkled even in the dim light.

  Lifting my eyes to hers I gained her attention, and deftly moved my hands. “Who gave you the locket, Philly?”

  She watched Liam until he turned his back on her to face me again.

  “Daddy,” she signed back.

  My heart rate sped up as I dropped my eyes back to the locket. Surely not? Yet, I knew. Harrison was fiercely protective of his family, especially his daughter.

  I snapped my eyes back to Liam when he dropped to a crouch before me. “When Padraic took you, I wanted you to feel some of the pain I went through at six years old, Anastasia!”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Of course, you don’t! You had it all, didn’t you! A family that protected you and loved you! Your sweet innocence. Well, there was nothing virtuous about my childhood. Innocence was raped from me time and time again.”

  I forced back the bile, instinctively pressing my hand to my mouth in disgust. “Oh, God. I’m…” Tears burned my eyes, and although I hated this man with everything inside me, a shred of horror made me pity him. It was evident that Liam blamed me for what had happened to him as a child, and if I was honest, I could understand the bitter hatred inside him. But that didn’t make it my fault. Yet, he was so far gone now that he needed to lay his demons to rest, and I was the only one left that could allow him to do that, as crazy as it was.

  He scoffed and sat back in the chair. “Your life was so fucking easy! Untainted and perfect. Why you and not me, huh? Why the fuck didn’t she put me up for adoption?”