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The old man’s pale skin goes a shade paler as he blinks rapidly. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“This is insane. I don’t know what either of you are talking about!” I’m afraid the old man’s about to have a heart attack. He’s sweating profusely.
I drop the USB stick on his mahogany table. “Your honor,” I say, folding my arms. “Everything you did at lunchtime is on there.”
“Lunchtime?” he sputters breathlessly, staring at the object on his table as if it is a poisonous snake. He looks like is on the brink of a stroke now. If he drops dead, we’re fucked. Men like him surprise me. What do they expect? That one day they won’t be compromised?
“Your entire session with Evanna is on there.”
“What do you mean?” he asks slowly, even though he knows exactly what I’m saying. If I wasn’t so twisted up about my horses, I would feel bad for the old guy. We all have our weaknesses. He just can’t get what he needs from the woman he’s with.
His eyes fly up to us. He’s not ready to give in yet.
“Imagine what it would do to your reputation if it went public,” I suggest in a low voice. “Imagine what that would do to your wife.”
“And your children,” Jake adds.
“Or your high-flying friends,” I continue.
His hands ball into fists. “All right, all right. Enough. What do you want from me, you scum?”
“Funny word, coming from a man who can only reach completion while licking a woman’s boots,” Jake says.
“What do you want? Say your piece and get out of here,” he says coldly. This is a very different man indeed from the groveling submissive we saw on the screen.
“Tell your son to lay off my woman and my son,” I clarify. “She made the mistake of getting mixed-up with him, but now he won’t let her go. I need you to make sure he backs off her. Be grateful that I’m giving you this opportunity because what he’s done is enough to get him killed.”
“I can’t control—”
I hold my hand up. “I don’t give a shit how you do it, I just want it done. Threaten to stop turning a blind eye to his activities if you have to. Suggest one of his prior cases be reopened. Call the fucking police on him. I don’t care. Just make it happen, and today.”
“Or we’ll release the footage,” Jake murmurs.
“We’re not unreasonable. We just need justice. Your son sent around his men and slaughtered a stable full of my prize winning horses. I fucking loved those animals.”
His eyes widen with surprise.
“That’s right, this is the kind of thing your son does. He kills defenseless animals because he can’t get the woman he wants.”
His back straightens. He knows his son is no good, but he doesn’t care. No matter what that’s his son and he’ll stand by him.
Any pity I felt for him flees. “If you don’t make him understand that the woman and the boy don’t belong to him, I will release the video online and to all the major newspapers. The British press love juicy debauched stories about our moral, upright judiciary. So no doubt someone will want to print this story. To be clear: I don’t want to see or hear from your son or any of his goons again. Understood?”
“Understood,” he says tightly. “Now please leave. I never want to see either of you again.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve already seen much more of you than I ever wanted to,” Jake slings back.
Judge Jackson stares at us thin-lipped and resentful. It’s blackmail after all.
As we turn toward the door, I remember something else. “Oh, one more thing.”
“What?” he snaps.
“Since you never taught your son how to treat a woman, I’ll have to teach him myself. Just wanted to give you a heads up that I expect no consequences for doing so,” I inform him.
He narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about?
“I’m going to give your son the kicking he deserves.”
He takes a deep breath and looks as if he would like to say something horrible to me, but all he says is, “Fine. Do what you must, but don’t land him in hospital.”
“Shame you didn’t introduce him to Evanna. A good flogging might’ve straightened him out years ago,” Jake says with a laugh as we leave to find Tony Jackson.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Tyson
“You’re sure this is the place?” I look over at Jake, who nods.
“Yeah, my sources tell me he is in there right now. Come on.”
“Jake, I don’t want you to come in. I need to do this myself.” No, I don’t need his help. I want the satisfaction of taking Tony Jackson down all to myself. I can’t go as far as I want to, as I fantasized about doing, but it’ll have to be enough.
He grins. “I’m just here for the show. Don’t worry, little brother, I won’t interfere.”
The pub is quite crowded for so early in the evening, but the general mood in the place quiets when the customers get a look at us. Even if they don’t know who I am everybody knows Jake Eden. I can only imagine what they’re thinking as I scan the room looking for him. Jake told me he usually sits in the back so I focus my attention there.
Sure enough, there he sits. Like a textbook definition of a gangster. Where Jake is so suave, sophisticated, you couldn’t even imagine he was once a working gangster, Tony is rough and brutish. His fists are roughly the size of hams. I think of them making contact with Izzy’s face and it makes me feel physically ill. It’s a wonder she’s still alive. He sits in a booth with his arms stretched out on the table. A king in his castle, loving his life.
For now.
“Give a holler if you change your mind,” Jake offers as I begin to walk towards Tony.
I don’t look at anyone around me. Only him. My whole focus. He turns his head and sees me. I see a flash of something in his eyes. He is not afraid of me. Not yet. The room goes quiet as all eyes follow my progress. There isn’t even a whisper. It is clear that I must be the only man who’s ever walked in with the sheer purpose of beating the living shit out of the pub’s owner. Maybe he’s never pushed anybody as far as he’s pushed me. I stand in front of him and his men surround me. Six of them. I can take them.
“You better have come to bring Izzy back,” he says, a mean expression on his face.
I don’t answer in words. I answer with the fist that makes instant contact with his mouth, splitting his lip open over his teeth. He scrambles from the booth, cursing up a storm, while his men circle me and try to grab me.
But a voice like whiplash makes them freeze.
“Let your boss fight his own battles.”
I turn my head quickly and see that Jake has no intention of letting me fight my own battles. He is standing with about ten men around him. None of them look friendly. One of them looks downright dangerous with a scar that runs right down his face. I look into Jake’s eyes and all the friendliness and warmth I saw ever since I met him in his office have been wiped out. There, in front of me, stands that ruthless, illusive gangster I saw in the club all those years ago.
Tony stalls and looks around him. His men are watching. It’s crazy as hell, but even his own men will not defy Jake. I see Tony clench his fists with frustration. This is not the way he normally does business. His way is to send his henchmen to do his dirty work for him while he plays the big-I-am by hitting women. He already knows he can’t fight me. I took care of the three brain-dead dickheads he sent to my house last night.
“Who the hell do you think you are coming into my territory? You want to start a fucking war?” he asks Jake aggressively, blood streaming down his chin.
Jake shakes his head calmly. “Nope. This is my little brother and I’m here to keep it fair.”
He frowns. “Your brother?”
“Aye, that’s what I said,” Jake says with a nod.
“Well, your little brother needs to be taught a lesson. He took my woman.”
“She was his woman before she was yours. Christopher is his,” Jake’s voi
ce rings out in the still space.
“Nah. Finders keepers. She’s my woman now and he can fuck off if he thinks I’m giving up what’s mine. He can have the brat though.”
“You want her. Fight for her then,” I challenge.
“I don’t fight pussies,” he sneers.
“No? That’s not what I’ve been told.”
“Fuck what you’ve heard.” He looks me up and down, a disgusted, ugly expression on his face. “I won’t fight you, and I’m not giving her up. What’re you gonna do?”
