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“Then you have a massive problem.” Locke didn’t look bothered, and while I knew I should be absolutely frightened, I wasn’t. Well, not by Locke; Gerard was terrifying me with how unstable he was.

“What do you want me to do?” Gerard shrieked. He was unravelling. Whatever plan he’d come up with, Locke was blowing out of the water. Gerard was genuinely terrified of this man. Locke held a power I’d not seen before.

“Are you honestly looking to me to solve your problem? What do you think I am?” Locke demanded; amusement was clear in his voice.

“Give me another week, and I’ll pay the ten million,” Gerard begged.

“No.”

Gerrard’s eyes bugged out of his head. “No?” he shrieked. “What do you mean, no?”

“Exactly what I said,” Locke replied.

The meltdown I’d been expecting happened. Gerard freaked the hell out. In front of Locke, he began ranting and raving and pacing back and forth, waving his hands in the air.

“Enough!” Locke roared. “You ran up this gambling debt and no one else. I will not stand here and be subjected to your unhinged tantrum.”

Locke’s suit pocket made a noise, and he pulled a cell phone out and glanced at the screen. Whatever was on it seemed to displease him greatly. He turned to Gerard. “This farce is over, Silver. Pay, or I’ll end this.”

Gerard spun with absolute hatred in his eyes. “I’m done messing around, Meadow.” He yanked out a sheaf of documents that he’d rolled up in his jacket. “Give it to me now. Otherwise, we’re both going to die, and our children will be orphans. You’re already dead, so stop being a cunt and sign everything over.”

I held Gerard’s eyes and sneered. “Fuck you.”

Gerard had never enjoyed being told no, especially by me. My ‘fuck you’ sent him over the edge. Sheer hate suffused his face, and in mere seconds Gerard lost his ever-loving shit. He started screaming and ranting, and Locke backhanded him. Any sign of amusement fled as Locke pulled out a weapon.

Locke pointed it at Gerard and then at me.

Gerard dropped to his knees and began begging. At the sight of the gun, my forced calmness finally cracked. Locke cocked his head and held my eyes.

“Something you would like to add, Ms Hall?”

“I can’t stop you from killing me. But I can ask you, please ensure my body is found. I don’t want my children not knowing what happened to me. They don’t deserve that, Mr Locke. They’re good kids; let them have closure at least.”

Gerard stared, deranged. He leapt to his feet and came at me. Locke’s hand moved, and as much as I wanted to close my eyes and not see death coming, I couldn’t. A bang rang out, and then silence fell.

My eyes closed finally, and I waited for the pain to seep into my bones. After a few seconds, I blinked and opened them to look back into Locke’s cold stare.

“Untie her,” he ordered a man behind him. “You are very lucky, Miss Hall, in your choice of boyfriend.”

“You know who Chill is?” I asked as relief swept through me. My limbs felt boneless.

“Indeed, I do. I’m aware, Miss Hall, that your first inclination will be to call the police. May I suggest you refrain from doing so? Naturally, I’ll have an alibi elsewhere, and you’ll only highlight your own presence here,” Locke said.

“That sounds like some heartfelt advice that I’ll gladly accept.”

A brief smile crossed Locke’s face, but it was so fleeting I wasn’t sure. I began rubbing my hands where the rope had burned into my wrists as the guard with Locke freed my legs.

Finally, I turned and looked at where Gerard lay. There was a neat bullet hole between his eyes and surprisingly very little blood. I wanted to feel something, but only experienced numbness. This was the father of my children, and he’d been prepared to sell me into slavery, prostitution, or even see me dead. There was nothing for Gerard now. I hoped he rotted in hell.

Locke turned, phone in hand. “Unfortunately, Miss Hall, I’ve been unable to raise Chill. I have, however, contacted a colleague. Are you acquainted with Tiny from Hellfire?”

“I’ve seen him a few times, yes.”

“I have informed Tiny where you are. He is riding to collect you.”

“Couldn’t you contact a member of the Unwanted Bastards?” I asked, wanting someone familiar.

“My apologies, Miss Hall, but I tend not to have a lot of members of motorbike clubs in my phone directory. Tiny will escort you home. Please wait outside, because obviously I have some issues here to deal with.”