‘I know,’ he said, and came, pushing into her so hard she could barely breathe. ‘Oh, Layla, baby, what the hell are we going to do…?’
About what? she wondered.
There was joy in her heart, and overwhelming sadness… and now there was fear, too. Not for herself, but for him.
So the game was up. Kath the mother had phoned him in panic, the fucking idiot.
‘Help us! Carter’s here and he’s beating up Junior. You said he wouldn’t get into trouble over this, you promised.’
As if he’d lift a fecking finger on Junior’s behalf. The little cunt was caught: no use to him now. It was time to up the stakes. No point pussy-footing around. He had one loyalty, and that loyalty was crying out for vengeance.
Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.
Well, today vengeance would be Rufus’s, too. He’d waited too long for this. With Orla dead, what did he have to lose? It was time to get on and do it, and then at last he’d be revenged and his poor beloved could rest in peace.
Tone picked up Junior’s car within the first quarter of a mile. It was a ratty little Ford in graphite blue, old and rusted, billowing out grey smoke from the exhaust, leaving a trail that made the job easier. He followed it through traffic, edging ever closer.
‘Don’t lose him,’ said Max.
‘I won’t.’
Max glanced at Molls, now crouched silent in the back seat. ‘He been seeing much of this bloke, this Rufus?’
Molls shook her head.
‘The truth,’ said Max sharply.
She gulped fearfully and nodded. ‘Yeah. A lot.’
Max felt the rage rise up again, nearly choke him with its ferocity. This was Annie’s cousin’s boy, someone she’d looked out for since he was a kid, furnishing him with jobs and no doubt with extra cash when he needed it.
He stared at Molly in disgust. He barely knew this girl, or her brother. Kath, the mother, was dog-rough; Max didn’t even want to look at her, never had. He reckoned Molly was cut from the same mould as her mother. She could pull men now, but what few looks she had would quickly fade, the same way her mother’s had, helped along by booze or drugs or binge eating till she ended up the spitting image of Kath.
‘Fuck!’ said Tone loudly as the lights changed. He slammed on the brakes. Molly slipped off the back seat and thumped to the floor. Junior’s old Ford was chugging away into the distance.
‘Jump the lights,’ said Max.
Tone didn’t question it. He edged out, jerking the Jag to a halt when a car shot past within inches of the front bumper.
‘Holy shit!’ yelled Molly, scrabbling back up on to the seat.
Cars honked their horns. There was a squealing of brakes, accompanied by yells of fury. Tone put his foot down and the Jag shot through the steadily moving line of traffic across the junction, at the head of which was the old blue Ford.