They were all wearing their trademark black hooded tops and black jeans. The black anti-pollution cycling masks they always sported hadn’t been adopted as part of their uniform in concern for environmental smog, but because they covered the lower halves of their faces and looked intimidating. As they were busy smoking drugs these masks were in a heap on the coffee table. However this meant that when the front door was kicked open and in rushed four figures not one of the five men even realised they were there until they were laying into them with the baseball bats. Within seconds all five Brothers were unconscious and the drugs weren’t responsible.
“For Christ’s sake, let’s get out of here before we all end up as high as sodding kites,” said Jez, sprinting for the door.
The other three charged outside after him, gulping in the fresh air. They might all have dealt in drugs but none of them were stupid enough to take them.
“Well that was disappointing,” said Jules, swinging the bat. “I’d hoped for more of a fight.”
“Five down, ten to go,” said Jez.
“Let’s hope the rest of them are more alert. I want to hear some squeals of pain.”
“You’re a ghoul Jules,” said Mark. “But I’m glad you’re on our side.”
She smiled and gave him a wink before slinging the bloodied bat over her shoulder and heading for the stairs, whistling.
Jez smiled as he followed his sister, the enigma. Jules was a brutal fighter and an experienced assassin but at the same time she was a loving wife and mother. Her daughter Cara was almost two years old and she’d been married to Jackson Driscoll, a famous cage fighter, for not much longer than that and she was ecstatically happy, to everyone’s surprise. No one had ever thought they’d see the day Jules AKA Venom settled down. Jez had worried her new-found domesticity would affect her work but she was as ruthless as ever, to his relief.
They encountered another five Brothers on the stairwell, only this lot were in full uniform, glowering at them over the tops of the bike masks. All five brandished either knives or heavy bike chains and none of them looked happy.
“You really like the bike motif, don’t you?” said a cheerful Jules who was always happy at the prospect of battle. “At least you’re not out on the roads holding up the traffic and generally pissing everyone off like those lycra-wearing tossers.”
Five sets of eyes narrowed, wondering why she was so calm.
“We don’t like bikes,” muttered one of the Brothers, voice slightly muffled by the mask. “They’re for dicks.”
“At least we agree on something. And do you lot always go around in groups of five? Do you like forming pentagons?” she snorted. She rolled her eyes when they all looked blank. “You know, five-sided polygons?” She sighed and shook her head. “Maybe you should go back to school instead of hanging around in pissy stairwells.”
All menace had gone from the eyes of the five men, who simply looked confused.
Jules moved closer to the man nearest her, peering curiously at his mask. “That looks uncomfortable to wear. Let’s loosen it up a bit for you.” With that she grabbed the mask, pulled it back as hard as she could then let it go. It sprang back onto his face with a loud snap, making him stagger back with a cry, eyes filling with tears.
“Look, he’s crying,” she laughed before whacking him in the side of the head with the bat. “Girl,” she spat at him when he fell to the floor, out cold.
They all gaped at their fallen comrade with wide, startled eyes. Those few seconds of shock were a huge mistake because they gave their opponents time to react. Jules took the opportunity to kick the crotch of the man next to the one she’d already knocked out. She thought it rather comical that she could only see his eyes, which actually crossed. Without pause she swung the bat into his face and he fell on top of his friend.
She turned around and her grin dropped when she saw the other three Brothers on the ground too. “Spoilsports.”
“You took out two single-handed,” said Grant. “Leave some fun for us.”
“What a bunch of wussies,” she said with disgust. “My little girl puts up a better fight than these jessies.”
The others were amused by her outrage. Jules had slotted perfectly into their crew and - although they would never tell her this - they were all very protective of her, despite the fact that she didn’t actually need protecting.
“Don’t worry Jules, there’s still five more,” said Jez. “We’ll give you the lion’s share.”
“You’d better little brother. Let’s go and find them then we can get on with the rest of our lives.” Jules knelt by the man she’d hit in the crotch, who had come round and was attempting to drag himself upright. “There are so many better things I could be doing right now,” she glowered at him, pulling back his mask and letting it go with a twang. He released a cry as it snapped back on his face. Jules burst out laughing. “I could get used to this, it’s fun. Snap a hoodie. Why don’t you try it boys?”
“That’s your sadistic streak coming out,” said Jez.
She pulled the mask off the groaning man’s reddened face and frowned at it. “Hmmm, I wonder if Jax would wear one of these?”
“Let’s move on,” said Jez. “Quickly.”
“You are such a prude,” said Jules as she followed them downstairs, tossing the mask over her shoulder.
They emerged in the car park not far from their black van to be confronted not by the expected five Brothers but eleven of them standing in a semi-circle between them and their transport.
Dennis and Dennis Junior stood watching on the other side of the car park, the only ones who’d had the guts to remain when the other gang members had turned up. Dennis was frantically praying that the Laws won because Stu, the leader of the gang, had spotted him and dragged a finger across his throat in a threatening gesture. If Jez and his crew lost this fight then he was dead, he had no doubt about it.
“They can win this,” said DJ. “It’s like only five to one.”
Dennis rolled his eyes at his son’s lack of basic maths skills but that was because the lazy little bastard could never be arsed to go to school.
“Remember what you said,” continued DJ. “These are Laws. Beating the odds is what they do.”
“Shut up boy,” snapped Dennis, trying to concentrate on the epic fight that was about to take place.
DJ huffed and folded his arms across his chest, scowling.
“So do you lot have bikes?” grinned Jules. “None of your friends did. I’m just wondering if some of you do actually enjoy cycling?”
The masked men all frowned at each other. Stu stepped forward to speak but she couldn’t understand him through the mask.
“Eh? Speak up,” she said loudly, as though he were deaf while Jez, Mark and Grant sniggered. “That shite on your face must make it difficult for you to mug old ladies. They probably think you’re asking them if they’ve seen your bike.” Stu yanked off the mask and Jules’s eyes lit up. “You should take that off more often, you’re very pretty.”
Stu rounded on his gang when he heard someone chuckle. After frowning them into silence he turned back to face the Laws, furious. “Why don’t you lot just fuck off?” he said, pointing at Jules with a knife. “No one’s scared of you anymore you old bastards.”
“Old?” exclaimed Jules. “Who the fuck do you think you are you little shit? If you think I’m going to take this crap off a little twat who only came out of nappies yesterday you’re fucking wrong.”
The gang looked at one another, unease rippling through their numbers. The woman was so angry she looked psychotic. Of course they all knew who she was, Jules’s reputation for being a sadistic psycho as well as a master assassin had been cemented years ago. They hadn’t actually expected her or Jez to turn up on the estate. They’d thought they’d send a bunch of heavies instead, that they could have handled but Jules and Jez were the stuff of legend and that fact alone had Stu and his goons at a psychological disadvantage.
“Just fu
ck off,” said Stu, swaggering with bravado. “Before you…”
Jules didn’t allow him to finish the sentence, swinging the bat into the side of his head, knocking him clean out. She picked up the knife he’d dropped and laughed. “Oh bless, what’s this? Your mummy’s potato peeler?” She glared at the gang, grey eyes like steel. “I’m bored,” she called over her shoulder to Jez while rolling the knife between her fingers. “Can we move this along?”
“Fine by me,” he replied before slamming the bat into the stomach of the nearest masked man, Mark and Grant gleefully joining in and taking down another two Brothers.
CHAPTER 3
Dennis and DJ watched with their mouths hanging open as the four of them battered the hell out of the eleven Brothers.
“Told you they could do it,” said Dennis, bursting with smugness. He retrieved two golf clubs from behind a wheelie bin and held one out to his son. “Fancy joining in?”
“Seriously Dad, golf clubs?” said DJ with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t play baseball.”
“You don’t play golf either.”
“They belonged to your grandad,” he said impatiently. “Well, are you coming or not?”
“Yeah,” he said, eagerly following his father into the fray.
Within five minutes all the Brothers were lying in a heap on the ground.
Jules leaned on the bat, breathing hard.
“You got out of shape since you became all domesticated?” smiled Mark. “Or was that little crud right and you’re old?”
She pointed at him with the bat. “You wanting some pain? This bad boy still has some life left in him.”
Mark just chuckled. He was a serious man and his laugh was rarely heard but Jules was one of the few people who could actually reduce him to tears of mirth.
“What shall we do with this shower?” said Grant, kicking one of the men as he lay groaning on the ground.
“Leave them,” said Jez. “Except him,” he added, pointing at Stu, who was still spark out. “We’re going to make an example of that wanker.”
DJ preened when Jules smiled at him in what he thought was a distinctly flirtatious way.
“Well you’re very impressive, aren’t you?” she said.
He was non-plussed when she walked right past him to his dad.
“I admired the way you slammed your club into the lad’s knee,” she continued “The crack was very exciting.”
DJ gaped as she started chatting up his dad, who seemed both flattered and nervous by the attention.
“Err, are you forgetting your husband?” said Jez. “The prize-winning cage fighter?”
At those words Dennis practically leapt backwards, away from her, making her grin.
“I can look, can’t I?” She pulled Stu’s head up by his hair. “Come on you, time for a nice bit of torture.”
DJ wasn’t sure whether he wanted to kiss her or run for the hills.
While Mark, Grant and Jules bundled Stu into the back of the van, Jez shook Dennis’s hand.
“Thanks for letting me know what’s been going on around here. I never should have let things get so far but I’ve been so wrapped in business. I’ll get a couple of my men to regularly check on the estate and if you have any more bother at all don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
“Thanks so much Mr Law,” replied Dennis, surprised by how affable this supposedly ferocious man actually was.
“Call me Jez.”
“Bye sexy,” called a voice and they turned to see Jules waving at Dennis.
Dennis blushed while DJ was outraged. “How can she fancy you? You’re so old.”
“Enough of that you cheeky little sod, I’m only forty nine.”
“Judging by the way your dad handles himself, he’s far from old,” said Jez.
DJ wasn’t about to argue with Jez Law so he just nodded. He and his dad watched them all clamber back into the black van and drive out of the estate.
“Sorry for calling you old Dad,” said DJ. “I just wasn’t expecting a bird like that to fancy you.”
“Shocked the shit out of me too. A cracker, isn’t she? Mad as a box of frogs though.”
“So that explains it.”
“Lairy little git. Come on son, I’ll buy you a pint.”
For the first time in weeks they walked through a gang of Brothers completely unmolested, both grinning broadly.
Mikey was supposed to be working but instead he was brooding out of the window of the non-descript suburban bungalow he and Jez were still using as their main headquarters after the famous Maguire compound had been blown up. At first he’d resented going from the imposing grandeur of the compound to this but they’d had it decorated and now it was a cosy haven. Everyone in Manchester had known about the compound but only a select few knew about the bungalow. It was his sanctuary, not just from their enemies but from home too.
He spun round to face the door when it opened and in walked Jez and Jules, full of smiles, laughing and joking. However his attention was drawn to Jules. Two years ago he’d offered to leave his wife for her but she’d turned him down for Jackson. He had hoped that would have been an end to it but his feelings for her had never faded, not even when he and Amber had another baby boy, Zach. Jules was his first cousin, his mother and her father had been brother and sister but that fact had never stopped them from getting hot and heavy more than once, although they’d never gone all the way.
“I take it everything went well?” Mikey asked them.
“Great fun,” grinned Jules. “We hammered the shit out of them. Just a bunch of kids who really like bikes.”
“For the tenth time,” said Jez. “They didn’t like bikes, they only liked the masks.”
“Yeah, right. I bet they dress up in all that girly lycra when no one’s watching then prance about like dicks ready for action.”
Mikey chuckled. Jules might be a violent enforcer but she was also kind, ferociously loyal, brave and generous to a fault, willing to help out anyone who needed it. Unlike Amber, who thought of no one but herself, clothes and make-up. Now they’d found a nanny they could rely on even their own children took a back seat to Amber’s vacuous ego, which only made Jules even more appealing as she was such a doting mother. “Where are Mark and Grant?” he said.
“Teaching the leader of The Rogue Brotherhood a harsh life lesson,” said Jez.
“The Rogue Brotherhood?” said Mikey. “Tossers. So you think the Montford will be nice and quiet now?”
“I’m going to make damn sure it is, I’m fucking furious with myself. Ryan would rip my nuts off if he found out I’d let things slide so much. For once I’m glad he lives all the way down in Devon.”
“There’s no reason for him to find out. Just make sure you stay on top of it.”
“We will, won’t we sis?” he asked Jules.
“Damn right and I know where to go if I ever need cycling advice.”
“For Christ’s sake, they aren’t into cycling.” Jez shook his head and grinned. “You’re taking the piss.”
“You’re so easy to wind up little bruv. Right, I’m off, I’ve got to pick up Cara. See you tomorrow.”
Jez didn’t miss the way Jules and Mikey’s eyes briefly locked as she left. She loved and adored Jackson and he was so good for her, calming her wild side but whatever it was between her and Mikey had never gone away, to his surprise. Every day at work he was forced to put up with their furtive glances that they thought no one else could see but everyone noticed. However when Jackson was around Jules only had eyes for her husband. For that reason alone he knew neither of them would act on the strong attraction between them.
“What?” said Mikey when he realised Jez was staring at him.
“Nothing,” he sighed, hanging up his jacket and flinging himself into the chair behind his desk, which faced Mikey’s. “How did the meeting with Franco go?” Franco Cipriani was an old friend of Ryan’s, respected in their world but recent ill health had forced him to give up
some of his businesses.
“Good. He’s willing to sell the casino to us. The poor bastard’s cancer has gone but he’s decided to pack it all in here and fly off home to Italy. He says life’s too short for all this shite.”
“Excellent,” yawned Jez, rubbing his eyes.
“You getting too old to batter little wannabes?”
“No. George kept me and Cathy up last night.”
George was Jez and Cathy’s third child who, in Mikey’s opinion, was oversensitive. The boy cried at the drop of a hat. He’d even been known to burst into tears when someone sneezed.
“What was it this time?”
“He wet his bed then wouldn’t go back off. Screamed the bloody place down. Talk about terrible twos. We never had all this trouble with Ruby and Jack.”
“Maybe he’s pissed off because you called him George?”
“What’s wrong with George?” frowned Jez.
“Well it’s…it’s just…a little old fashioned.”
“I don’t think anyone called Mikey should be pointing any fingers. You sound like you should be presenting a kids’ TV show.”
“Well what about Jez? It’s not even a real name.”
“At least it sounds manly.”
“Manly?” snorted Mikey. “You sound like a fizzy pop.”
“I don’t know whether to laugh or smack you one.”
“Laugh. Looks like you’ve done enough smacking for one day you old git.”
“I am a bit knackered,” he said, resting his head on the back of his chair and closing his eyes.
When Mikey returned to staring out of the window Jez opened one eye to peer at him, wondering why he’d suddenly gone quiet. When he realised he’d gone back to mooning over Jules he shook his head and closed his eye again.
Jared Slattery lay back on the bed, completely naked, gazing up at the ceiling while a dark haired woman he’d picked up in a nightclub attended to his lower half. She was throwing herself wholeheartedly into the act but he was gaining no pleasure from it. He’d only picked her because at a certain angle she’d looked a bit like Jules Law/Maguire or, as she was now called, Jules Driscoll. His jaw tensed at the thought of her married to another man. She’d burst into his life two years ago when he’d taken her hostage after he and his men had stormed the Maguire compound in Manchester. She’d actually blown it up rather than let it fall into his hands. That alone would have been enough to make him fall for her but she’d bowled him over in so many other ways. She was the only woman he’d ever really wanted but she’d escaped him, tricked him into believing she cared about him just so she could sneak off back to Manchester. He had hoped the passage of time would ease his obsession with her but it seemed to have only fuelled it. However, what was disturbing him more than anything was the fact that he’d discovered she had a daughter who was almost two years old and, after working out the dates, he’d realised she could easily be his. At first he’d assumed the child was Jackson Driscoll’s, a cage fighter who he actually really admired, which was the only reason why he was still breathing.
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