Free Justice for the Damned by Ben Cheetham Page B

for a second, then nodded.
    ‘Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it,’ said Bryan.
    ‘This isn’t a sodding auction,’ snapped Edward.
    ‘Isn’t it?’ Tyler rested back against the drawers, folding his arms, looking expectantly from one man to the other.
    Edward stood silent, his expression wavering between anger and nervousness. Liam’s hulking form filled the doorway behind him. Edward’s gaze flinched over his shoulder as Liam enquired, ‘What’s going on?’
    ‘Mr Forester was just expressing his willingness to compensate us for unforeseen difficulties. Weren’t you?’
    With a hiss through his teeth, Edward said, ‘Alright, alright, I’ll match Mr Reynolds’s offer, plus sixty thousand.’
    ‘That makes it four hundred thousand.’
    ‘No, only three hundred and—’ Edward broke off. He heaved a breath. ‘Yes, you’re right. Four hundred thousand it is.’
    ‘Six hundred,’ said Bryan. ‘Six hundred thousand quid if you let me carve this cunt up here and now. All you need to do is dispose of his body.’
    Liam gave a little whistle. ‘I’d say that’s a pretty damn good offer.’
    Edward’s gaze danced around the room as if searching for an escape route. ‘This is absurd! How do you know this man even has that kind of money?’
    Bryan’s eyes glittered with brutal amusement. ‘Oh, they know I’m good for it, alright.’
    ‘I won’t have you holding me to ransom like this.’ Edward pulled out his phone. ‘We’ll bloody well see what Charles has to say about this.’
    ‘What makes you think he’s got any influence out here?’ asked Tyler. But as the phone started to ring, quick as a striking snake, he snatched it away from the politician and cut off the call.
    Red blotches stained Edward’s cheeks. His lower lip protruded like a child about to have a tantrum. Deep laughter suddenly boomed around the room. All eyes turned towards Bryan. ‘Anyone got a dummy?’ he asked, his broad chest heaving against the leather strap. ‘I think boo-boo needs one.’
    The colour in Edward’s cheeks drained to a white mask of rage. ‘Seven hundred thousand!’
    ‘Eight,’ shot back Bryan.
    ‘Nine.’
    ‘A million and a half.’
    ‘Tw—’ Edward stumbled over the word, his breath coming short between his quivering lips. ‘Two million!’
    Like an auctioneer bringing down his hammer, Tyler smacked his fist in his palm. ‘Sold.’
    ‘Fuck that!’ shouted Bryan. ‘Three—’
    Tyler silenced him with a short hard elbow to the cheek. ‘No more bids. Congratulations, Mr Forester.’
    ‘You’re dog meat!’ Bryan exploded. ‘All of you. Fucking dog meat! I’m going to cut you up and feed you to my bitches.’
    Tyler motioned for Edward to leave the room. They stepped into the hallway and he closed the door, only barely muffling the enraged gangster’s roars.
    ‘You understand it’s going to take a few days to come up with the money,’ said Edward. He had his voice firmly back under control now, but an oily sheen on his upper lip betrayed the strained state of his nerves.
    ‘And you understand that, considering the change in the terms of our deal, I’m going to need to see the money up front.’
    ‘You’ll get your money, don’t worry about that. You just concentrate on fulfilling your side of the bargain.’ Edward stabbed a finger at the door. ‘I want to know everything that bastard knows. And when he’s finished talking, I want him to die in the most agonising way possible.’
    Tyler regarded the politician coldly. The idea of torturing someone simply for the hell of it held no appeal for him. He hurt people as part of his job, nothing more. But that didn’t mean he was uncomfortable with sadism. If Forester wanted Reynolds to suffer beyond what was absolutely necessary, Tyler would be happy to make sure he got his full money’s worth. ‘I strongly suggest you don’t return to Sheffield until this is over.’
    Edward gave Tyler a look: Do you take me for a