Free Reckoning by Heather Atkinson Page B

out.”

CHAPTER 8
     
    An hour later Jules opened the back door of the pub to let in Mark, Grant, Hayden and the clean-up crew.
    “What a mess,” sighed Grant. “It’s going to take us ages to get all the blood out.”
    “We had to make sure the message was heard loud and clear,” replied Mikey.
    “How can they hear without any ears?” quipped Mark.
    Lyle lay in a pool of his own blood, minus both ears, which sat by his head. He was also missing both pinky fingers, which had been placed neatly beside his ears.
    “Did he give up where his brother’s hiding?” said Grant.
    “Yep, when I started cutting into his left ear,” said Jez. “You three are with us. Brogan can handle this, can’t you?”
    Brogan had been carefully handpicked by Mikey and Jez from their men to oversee security at the compound and their clean-up crew. He was a strong, slightly overweight man in his forties with a receding hairline he tried to disguise by combing his hair forward Roman style. His whole demeanour spoke of a man desperately fighting age with his dyed dark brown hair and eyebrows and his clothes that were twenty years too young for him.
    “Yeah, easy,” he replied.
    Lyle had been subjected to the worst damage. As well as his missing fingers and ears he’d been badly beaten, so badly that he’d spat out some of his teeth on the floor in a mess of blood and saliva. The other three had been beaten too but not to the same extent because they were just cronies. Lyle was the real prize.
    “What the hell did they think they were doing?” said Hayden, shaking his head.
    “They didn’t know we were here but Toni McVay had called us in for a meeting,” replied Mikey.
    “Toni?” said Grant. “Jesus, how did it go?”
    “Not great until this shower came in and gave us the perfect opportunity to impress her. We’ve already sent her the footage and she’s very pleased. Let’s move before Nilsen realises something’s wrong. I want this lot dumped outside the club Nilsen owns tonight when it’s open and full of punters. We need a grand gesture to let the city know that if you fuck with us you’ll regret it.”
    “I’ll look forward to it Boss,” said Brogan.
    Mikey, Jez and Jules exited the back way with Grant, Hayden and Mark in tow.
    “Right you lot, let’s get on with it,” Brogan ordered his crew. “We’ve got a lot to do so pull your fingers out, alright?”
    “Can we have a pint while we work?” said one of his men, a young, lairy twenty year old called Duane with huge ears.
    “Help yourself, if you want my foot up your arse you cheeky little sod. Get to work unless you want your ears cutting off too. Jesus, I’d be able to mount those bastards on my wall,” he yelled before taking out his phone.
    The rest of his men tittered but got straight to it. They all liked and respected Brogan but they also knew that he took any threat he made very seriously, especially Duane, who wanted to keep his ears thank you very much.
     
    Rachel was still filled with the happy holiday glow after their rather eventful trip up to Scotland. They were back home now and as she walked through Newton Abbot she nodded to every passer-by, some who smiled back, some who looked away and hurried on. That had never happened before but no one here had known about her violent history before.
    It was a relief that the salon was busy as usual. At least their businesses weren’t being boycotted. Maybe everything would blow over after all?
    Tracey Baxter, the lively, sassy woman with the mass of curls she’d hired to manage the salon bounded up to her. “Rachel, lovely to have you back,” she said, embracing her. “How was Scotland?”
    “Great, just what we needed. How’s business?”
    Tracey understood her worries and wanted to soothe them. “Absolutely fine, no change.”
    “That’s a relief,” breathed Rachel.
    Tracey really liked Rachel and found it hard to equate the violent gangster she’d read about in the papers with the