Free The Business by Martina Cole Page A

that would absolve her of any wrong-doing, a lie that her mother knew would haunt her until the day she died. Would haunt them all. This wasn’t just about revenge, this was about destroying one life to save another.
    Mary Dooley already knew deep down inside that the child her daughter was carrying meant nothing to her. It was just a weapon to her daughter, no more and no less. A weapon that her daughter would use as she used anything that she felt might get her what she wanted.
     
    Jason Parks’s father believed that he was a real Face, that he was a legend in his own lifetime. He wasn’t as well thought of, though, as he believed, but by the same token he wasn’t someone to be mugged off. He could have a row, there was no doubt about that. He was a shrewdie in his own way, was a man who saw the big picture. He was also an earner and, as such, he was respected. His only flaw was his over-inflated ego. It was because of this that he didn’t have any real friends, and it was why he wasn’t on the best terms with his only son.
    He earned a wedge that was not only large, but also respectable. In effect that meant he had a legitimate business, a business that was doing exceptionally well and could be used to explain away his affluent lifestyle if ever the need should arise. He also had his other business, the real money spinner, for which, unlike his regular business, he had to share out a large percentage of the profits. And share them he did because he had no choice. Though at times he resented the need to placate those around him.
    Timothy Parks felt that he was well past the days of needing any kind of protection, but it galled him that he was still expected to hand out a large percentage of his wedge on a weekly basis to the people he had paid to give him an in all those years ago. He was not the sort of person where this kind of a long-term arrangement was ever going to sit easily on his shoulders. He was more than grateful for the initial introductions, and he had been more than happy to pay the premium for a while, after all, he was not a complete fucking moron. But now he was having serious doubts about the validity of the payments that were still required from him, even though the people involved had no actual involvement any more in his purchase of the products their friends were so willing to supply. Ergo, they were now fucking obsolete as far as he was concerned. They had done what was required and been reimbursed for their troubles. So now he felt that they were taking the piss.
    In fact, he was now of the opinion that he might actually be getting ripped off. Royally ripped off, if he was being honest. He had weighed everyone out at the off, so why were they still so sure that he owed them something, that he owed them a large part of his fucking livelihood? He could fucking score off any number of dealers, it wasn’t as if they had a unique fucking product. In their world, cocaine, grass or amphetamines was the equivalent of fucking Avon; anyone could get access to it if they really wanted to. He really didn’t need such a jealous supplier, especially as nowadays there were so many others to choose from.
    That his son was a complete idiot had not escaped him either. He had heard through the grapevine that his boy was now a professional bank robber, and that was fine by him. He saw that as a mug’s game himself, it was a lot of bird for what he felt was not enough dough. It was his son’s latest foray into the world of dealing that was really getting up his nose, he smiled at the pun. Mainly because he didn’t even have the sense to see that he was treading on his own father’s toes. Now what did that say about the boy? What kind of fucking idiot shat on his own doorstep?
    At the end of the day, he was his son after all. Though, like his mother, Jason was a fucking taker. He took what he wanted and didn’t give a fuck who it affected, whose toes it might cause to be trodden on by all and fucking