“Ah shit, man.” He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “Okay, okay, it’s this place toward Aylesbury, way off the main road, think it’s near a chicken factory or was it a pig farm? Not sure.”
I nodded even though I had no idea where he was talking about.
“It’s a cottage, thatched, you know, but not pretty, could do with some money spending on it, and I don’t know why hedoesn’t because he’s got enough. But it used to be dog kennels, so it’s got like all these cages in the back garden, handy, you know, to keep the new bitches in.”
“He keeps the women in kennels?” I couldn’t take the disbelief from my voice.
“They might as well get used to life as it’s going to be when they’re bought.” He shrugged and laughed.
Just for that I wrenched out his middle fingernail.
“Fuck, you asshole!” he shouted. “I’m fucking telling you, ain’t I?”
“I don’t like your attitude to women. It sucks.” I flicked the nail aside. “What’s the address of this place?”
“I dunno. I’ve only been once, and it was nighttime. My mate drove. I’d been on the booze, hadn’t I, got myself too excited about my purchase and didn’t want another drink-driving stint in jail.”
“Fuck.” Andrew shook his head. “This could be a needle in a haystack.” He rubbed his temple.
“But it’s a start,” I said.
“Honest, cross my heart. I don’t know no more.” Leo sniffed noisily.
“So what do you want me to do with him?” Phil stepped up to Leo. “Probably easiest to kill him, right?” He clicked his gun beside Leo’s ear and then shoved the business end to his temple.
Leo’s eyes widened, and he froze. “Jesus Christ!”
“He isn’t a killer, just a revolting shitbag,” Andrew said and dug into Leo’s pocket. He withdrew his phone, flashed it at his face, and opened it.
“Hey, that’ s mine!”
“Shut the fuck up.” Phil smacked him around the head with the gun.
“Yeah, let’s just leave him,” I said. “We got what we came for. Come on.”
We all walked to the door, our footsteps heavy.
“You can’t leave me like this. I’ll die. No fucker ever comes in here. The pub’s bloody closed, or can’t you see that? Come back. Untie me. You bastards, come back now. Give me my phone.”
We stepped out into the morning and slid down our bandanas. Phil put his gun away, and I did the same with the pliers.
“Shame he’s not a murderer,” Phil said. “I’d have enjoyed taking that son of a bitch out.”
Chapter Seven
Amy
I hadn’t slept in someone’s arms like that…ever…and it started my day with a tangle of emotions. Mitch had left when I was barely awake, and I could have almost believed him to be a dream if it wasn’t for his dark masculine scent on my pillow.
After lounging for another hour—why had he got up so early?—I hauled myself out of bed and prepared for work. There was lots to do at the office. There always was in the summer months, and we had the commission for the Six Nations rugby merchandise, which would be in demand in the blink of an eye. But we were a well-oiled machine, me and the girls, and would take it in our stride…hopefully.
After two big cups of tea and a slice of peanut butter on toast, I headed out of the door. Work was only a few minutes’ walk away, and as I passed Carlos a lovely warm feeling grew in my belly and spread outward to my limbs. I slowed, glanced in the window, and sought out the table we’d sat at the evening before.
It was, of course, empty, the restaurant still and quiet and full of shadows.
Milk. He’d ordered me milk, as though I really was a little girl. And I hadn’t objected, I’d done what I was told. Obeyed my daddy. And when he’d ordered my food, without consulting me, rather than me being indignant, somehow, that had been freeing. I hadn’t had to think about it. He’d known what I liked and ordered. End of. Leaving me to, well…just be me. In the moment. With him.
It was a new part of my psyche I hadn’t tapped into. I’d never been cared for like that. Perhaps older children had beenthere for me when I was growing up, but not my parents. I was in the community; as a kid it was all about survival, and I’d learned that fast.
