Run

by Mandasue Heller

  Still trying to figure out what had changed, and how he’d failed to notice, Ben made a decision as he climbed into the car and started the engine. This shit had to stop, and it had to stop now! His and Chrissie’s relationship was becoming serious enough that they had been talking about Ben selling his flat and moving in with her and Dylan, and there was no way he was going to put that in jeopardy by continuing to play go-between for Jake and Sally. From now on, Jake could deal with this by himself.

  27

  Jake had switched his phone off and gone back to bed after speaking to Ben. He wasn’t worried about Sally opening her mouth; she enjoyed the money he gave her far too much to risk losing it. And she wouldn’t risk losing the chance to see him, albeit at his leisure and on his terms.

  It had been Ben’s idea to make her think she was in with a chance of getting back with him in order to keep her sweet, and it had worked, because she practically melted at Jake’s feet whenever he called round there. And, the best part was, he hadn’t even needed to do anything other than give her a promising smile every now and then, and drop the odd compliment.

  When she’d first told him she was pregnant, he’d insisted that he wanted to get a DNA test done as soon as it was born. But he’d had time to think about it since then, and he’d decided that it might not be such a good idea after all. If she ever tried to blow him up, he fully intended to deny it, so the last thing he needed was for her to have actual proof.

  But it wouldn’t come to that, he was sure. He might have more to lose than Sally did, but she knew which side her bread was buttered on. And if there was one thing he knew about Sally and her kind, it was that money spoke louder than anything – even so-called love. And, luckily for him, he could afford to feed her greed.

  Ben, however, was another matter. As much as Jake appreciated all the help his friend had given him over the years, Ben’s bleeding-heart approach to life was fast becoming an irritation. His loyalty had never been in question before he’d got with Chrissie, and Jake had known that he would never bleat a word to Leanne about Sally. Now, however, he wasn’t so sure that he could trust Ben not to spill his guts to Chrissie. And that was worrying, because there was no way she would keep something like this to herself.

  With that on his mind as he got dressed the following morning, Jake decided to call Ben and arrange a catch-up. They hadn’t had seen much of each other lately; Jake had been working long hours, and Ben had been spending all of his free time with Chrissie and the boy. But he was sure they could both spare half an hour.

  Leanne was still sleeping by the time Jake was ready to leave the apartment, so he left some money on the bedside table alongside a note telling her to treat herself to a new dress because he was taking her out tonight, before quietly letting himself out and making his way down to the residents’ car park.

  As he climbed into his car, he switched his phone on and activated the Bluetooth. Listening to Ben’s voicemail message as he pulled out on to the road, he immediately got the pointed remark about him needing to see the boy-ler, but he didn’t bat an eyelid. As far as he was concerned, the kid was Sally’s, not his, and – despite her obvious desire to the contrary – that was never going to change.

  *

  Leanne sighed when she woke a few hours later and saw Jake’s note and the money. It was a week since she’d told him about the baby, and he’d promised to cut down on his working hours and spend more time with her. Nothing had changed as yet, but she still had eight months to go, so she could hardly expect him to drop everything right now, she supposed.

  She got up and made herself a coffee, then went into the living room. Sunlight was streaming in through the blinds, and she smiled when she opened the French doors and heard the sound of children’s laughter coming from the park beyond the boundary fence. She hadn’t actually visited the park since moving in here, but she thought she might take a walk through it before heading into town to look for a dress. She wanted to see if there was an actual play area, or if the kids were left to run riot – as they were in the so-called parks near her old home.

  These were the kind of things she needed to know before the baby arrived, she reasoned: the safest play areas, the best nurseries and schools, etc. And she supposed she really ought to register with a GP while she was out. She’d had no need of a doctor until now, so it hadn’t even crossed her mind; but this was her first pregnancy and she wanted everything to go as well as it possibly could.

  She had a spring in her step when she walked down the long driveway a short time later and pressed the button on the gatepost to open the pedestrian section. It was a pity there wasn’t a gate leading into the park through the fence at the back of the house, because that would have cut a good few minutes off her walk, but the weather was nice enough that she didn’t really mind.

  *

  ‘Excuse me, love . . .’

  Leanne had just reached the copse at the end of the avenue, to the right of which a dirt-track ran alongside the wall of the large house at the end of the row, leading to the park. Hesitating when she heard the voice, she looked round and saw a man smiling out at her from the driver’s seat of a transit van that was partially concealed by a canopy of thick bushes and low-hanging trees.

  ‘You wouldn’t ’appen to know if there’s any garages round here, would ya?’ he asked in a thick Liverpudlian accent. ‘Only me satnav brought us down this dead end, and I got stuck trying to reverse out, and now me engine’s packed in.’

  ‘Sorry, I wouldn’t know,’ Leanne said truthfully. ‘Have you tried the AA?’

  ‘Can’t, me phone’s dead,’ the man said, sighing as he ran a hand through his thick blond hair. ‘This is all I need, this,’ he muttered, gazing past her as if expecting to find a solution in the windows of the houses behind her. ‘I’m s’posed to be at a job in ten minutes, and I can’t even let ’em know I’m not gonna make it.’

  For a split second, Leanne considered offering him the use of her phone. But she quickly decided against it and, instead, gave him a sympathetic smile.

  ‘Sorry I couldn’t help. Hope you get it sorted.’

  As she continued on her way, she heard the side door of the van slide open. Seconds later, a strong arm clamped around her stomach, knocking the wind out of her as the ground fell away beneath her feet.

  ‘Get off me!’ she gasped as the man half-carried, half-dragged her to the van. ‘What are you doing? HEL—’

  Covering her mouth with his hand when she started screaming for help, the man slammed her head into the side of the van. ‘Shut it, or you’re dead!’ he hissed, tearing her handbag off her shoulder as he shoved her roughly into the back of the van.

  Crying out in pain when she landed heavily on a pile of tools, Leanne clutched at her stomach as the door slid shut, plunging her into pitch-darkness. Terrified when the van’s engine suddenly fired to life and the floor vibrated beneath her, she groped her way to the door and tugged on the handle with all her might. It wouldn’t budge, and she was thrown violently against the panel that separated the back of the van from the cab when the vehicle began to move.

  ‘Let me out!’ she screamed, banging her fists on the panel. ‘You can’t do this! Somebody will have seen and phoned the police!’

  Blasted by loud music when a section of the panel suddenly opened, her breath caught in her throat when a woman’s face appeared.

  ‘Shut your fuckin’ mouth, or I’ll shut it for ya,’ the woman warned in an accent as thick as the man’s.

  A squeak of terror escaped Leanne’s lips when the woman grabbed her by the hair, and her body went rigid when she felt the point of a knife digging into the soft flesh beneath her chin.

  ‘Please don’t,’ she whimpered, praying that the van wouldn’t hit any bumps or potholes.

  ‘Keep it zipped an’ everything’ll be okay,’ the woman hissed, her cold stare boring into Leanne’s eyes.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Leanne gabbled, holding up her hands. ‘I’ll be quiet, I promise.
’

  ‘Good girl. Now sit back and enjoy the ride.’ The woman gave her a forceful shove. ‘But be warned,’ she added ominously, pointing the knife at Leanne’s face. ‘Make any noise, and I’ll be climbin’ in to keep you company.’

  When the panel slid shut again, Leanne bit down hard on her knuckles to keep from crying out. Where were they taking her – and, more importantly, what were they going to do with her when they got there? She’d heard about couples who kidnapped women and held them hostage to use as sex slaves, but the victims were usually foreign or vulnerable in some way. She’d never dreamed it would happen to her, and certainly not in broad daylight.

  Clinging on to a strap that was hanging from the wall as the van continued on its way, Leanne tried to keep track of the direction they were taking. It felt like they had taken two lefts and one right turn, in which case they must now be on the main road. If they took a left at the end, they’d be heading towards open countryside, whereas a right would lead them straight to the motorway.

  Liverpool! The word flew into her mind when they took a right. They’re Scouse, so they must be taking me to Liverpool!

  Leanne wanted to scream and kick the sides of the van to attract attention, but she had no doubt that the woman would carry through with her threat and climb into the back, so she forced herself to stay quiet, helpless to do anything except wait until they reached their destination. Once they were there, she would . . .

  What? she asked herself. What exactly will you do, Leanne? Scream and risk getting stabbed? Or try to fight the pair of them off – and risk getting battered and stabbed?

  With tears streaming down her cheeks, she squeezed her eyes shut as the van picked up speed, and prayed like she’d never prayed before.

  *

  After a busy morning, Jake decided to call Ben and ask if he fancied meeting up for a lunchtime pint. But as he pulled up his friend’s number, his phone started ringing. He smiled when he saw that it was Leanne.

  ‘Hello, darlin’. Missing me?’

  ‘She sure is,’ an all-too-familiar voice replied mockingly, making his blood run cold. ‘You wanna hear the fuss she’s makin’. Anyone’d think her throat was gettin’ cut.’

  ‘If you hurt her, I swear to God I’ll—’

  ‘What?’ the sneering voice cut him dead. ‘What you gonna do, JP? You seem to forget you ain’t runnin’ these streets no more.’

  Jake breathed in deeply before asking, ‘What do you want, Alex?’

  ‘Ahhh, he remembers me,’ Alex Delaney drawled with mock pleasure. ‘And there was me thinkin’ he’d forgot his old muckers, seein’ as we haven’t heard from him in so long. What’s it been, JP? A year?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Well, I reckon it’s time for a reunion. You know where I am, so why don’t you come on over and join the party? And don’t forget to bring my shit with you, or I guarantee you won’t see your bird again. Not alive, anyhow.’

  ‘And I guarantee you’ll never take another breath if you harm one hair on her head,’ Jake warned. ‘And you should know me well enough to know that I never make idle threats.’

  ‘Have you heard this divvy, makin’ out like he’s the fuckin’ Godfather?’ Alex sneered. ‘I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse,’ he said, adopting the muffled tone of Marlon Brando’s Don Corleone.

  At the sound of laughter in the background, a white-hot rage began to burn in Jake’s gut.

  ‘I’ll be there in an hour,’ he snarled.

  Alex Delaney had been one of his best mates when he’d lived in Liverpool, and he knew exactly how the cunt operated. That’s why he knew he’d have to tread very carefully if he hoped to get Leanne out of there unscathed. Like Jake, Alex was a good-looking lad who had little problem charming the knickers off any bird he fancied. But there was one huge difference between them. Whereas Jake could take a knock-back on the chin – as rarely as that had ever happened – Alex couldn’t take no for an answer. And the more his victims protested, the rougher he’d get – and the more he’d enjoy it.

  Forcing the unwelcome images out of his mind, Jake scrolled through the contacts list on his phone until he found the number he wanted. Alex didn’t have the bottle to face him one on one, so he would undoubtedly have his crew there as backup. But if he thought Jake was going to walk into that on his own, he was an idiot.

  28

  Rampage – the nightclub Jake had once owned a slice of – occupied the ground floor of a vast, almost derelict warehouse tucked away on a dingy backstreet half a mile from Liverpool’s revamped city centre. Surrounded by the rubble of former factories and cotton mills, it was a forlorn reminder of the long-gone era of industrial boom.

  When Jake drove in through the rusted gates, he saw Alex’s clapped-out transit van parked in the yard at the rear of the building, alongside a jeep that belonged to the twins, Paddy and Tommy Makin, and a rusted BMW that he didn’t recognize. His souped-up Audi A5 looked like a Ferrari in comparison, and he made sure not to park it too close to any of the wrecks. If they couldn’t take care of their own shit, they sure as hell wouldn’t be bothered about his.

  A fortified steel door was the only way in at the rear of the club, and this led directly into an ancient goods lift. Jake heard the lock being automatically released as he approached it, and knew that Alex must have been watching him on CCTV. Stepping into the lift, he gazed out through the metal bars as it clanked and groaned its way down into the bowels of the building. Grimacing when he spotted a rat washing itself in a hole in the slime-coated wall, he was reminded why this place was on its knees: because no self-respecting clubber would choose to come to a dive like this when they could opt for one of the upmarket nightclubs on the main drag instead.

  That was why he’d refused to even think about spending money on the dump when he’d been involved in it – and why he’d turned a blind eye to the criminals, drug-dealers, prostitutes and pimps who used it as a hang-out. As long as they had customers, they could explain the money that went through the tills – his share of which Jake had used to start his legit security business after moving back to Manchester.

  When the lift came to a juddering halt, Jake stepped out and peered down the dimly lit corridor off which a warren of damp chambers branched. The office was at the far end, its door standing ajar, and Jake heard the twins’ slurred voices coming from inside. Alex would have brought them in as backup because they were a pair of muscle-bound meatheads, but he’d obviously forgotten how useless they were when they got stoned – as they clearly were right now.

  Jake strolled down the corridor and pushed the door open. He was hit in the face by a blanket of smoke coming from the fat spliff that the twins, who were dwarfing the shabby leather couch on the right of the cramped room, were passing between themselves. Jake wafted it away and looked around. A man he’d never seen before was sitting at the desk facing the door, staring at the screen of a laptop that was sitting open on the desk. With his clean-shaven head, diamonds in his earlobes, and thick gold chains around his neck and both wrists, Jake pegged him for a wide-boy dealer.

  ‘Is this all you’ve got?’ he asked, turning his attention to Alex, who was sitting on the corner of the desk.

  ‘It’s enough,’ Alex said, unconcerned, his gaze travelling slowly down to Jake’s shoes before coming up to rest on his face. ‘Looks like you’ve been doing all right for yourself.’

  ‘Can’t complain,’ said Jake.

  Instantly dropping the calm facade, Alex jumped up and kicked the door shut. ‘I should fuckin’ think so, seeing as it’s my money you’re living it up on, you robbin’ cunt! Thought you was proper smart, waltzin’ off with all that coke, didn’t you?’

  ‘Get a grip,’ Jake snorted. ‘I only took what was mine, and you know it. It’s not my fault you shoved your share up your fucking nose.’

  Alex narrowed his eyes nastily and pressed his forehead up against Jake’s. ‘Who d’ya think you’re talking to, dickhead?’
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  ‘There’s four dickheads in here, but I ain’t one of them,’ Jake drawled, holding his ex-friend’s gaze. ‘Now back the fuck off before someone gets hurt.’

  ‘See, that’s your problem right there,’ Alex sneered, backing up a step and lighting a cigarette. ‘You always thought you was the boss, but you forget who let you into this crew in the first place. If I hadn’t give you a leg-up after you got loose from nick, you’d be face down in a sewer right now, never mind standing here like some kind of fuckin’ Armani mannequin.’

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw the man who was sitting behind the desk reach into the drawer and take out a hefty brass knuckleduster. Guessing that he was about to get a kicking when the man got up and walked over to flank Alex, he flashed a quick look at the twins. Relieved to see them still seated on the sofa, both wearing inane grins as if they thought they were watching a film, he slid the gun he was carrying out of his waistband.

  ‘Tell your goon to take a seat, or this won’t end well,’ he warned.

  ‘You reckon?’ A slow smile lifted Alex’s lip.

  ‘Well, I’m the one who’s packing, so I’d say so, yeah,’ said Jake. Then, parroting Alex, he said, ‘See, that’s your problem right there . . . you don’t think before you act, you just jump right into things without planning ahead.’

  ‘Oh, I planned,’ Alex said almost proudly, narrowing his eyes as smoke swirled up from his nostrils. ‘First I tracked you down, then I watched you, and then I nabbed your bird – who you haven’t even asked about since you got here, by the way.’ He turned his head and grinned at the thug who was smacking the knuckleduster into the palm of his hand. ‘Must be love, eh?’

  Jake lurched forward and shoved the gun up against Alex’s throat. ‘Where is she, you cocky twat?’