Page 115 of The Rising


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“I need to see you,” she says, naturally having me wonder why the fuck my ex-in-house whore from over three years ago, and most recently Beau’s father’s bit of arse, could possibly want with me.

“And I quite like my balls, so I’m afraid it’s a no.” I hang up and fall into thought again, staring at nothing, as does James as we take another needed few minutes to reflect, try to wind down, and wonder...what the fuck just happened?

“Not curious?” he eventually asks.

“Not enough to risk my wife turning psycho bitch on me. Amber’s probably in up to her neck again. Needs protection, money, who the fuck knows. She’s a waste of fucking space and she pulled a gun on my wife and mother.” So it’s definitely not wise for me to see Amber. And suddenly, I’m angry. So fucking angry. It’s one thing after another, problem after fucking problem. I get up, slip my cigarette between my teeth, and go to the changing room, pulling out a gun from my locker.

I march down the steps to one of the containers, take a long-arse time unbolting the thing, swing it open, and fire one shot before throwing it closed again. I pass Leon my gun as I head for the car, and James follows my path with his eyes, casually leaning on the wooden handrail, smoking.

“Better?” he asks.

“Much. He was the most useless of all your catches.” I get in the passenger side of his Range Rover and wait for James to get in. And wait. And wait. It’s probably only a few seconds but it feels like hours. Exasperated, I press the ignition button and let the window down. “Are you taking me home or not?” I yell, and he smiles, trudging down the steps and scooping up a bag.

“Yes, princess,” he coos, as Leon scurries along beside him, opening the driver’s door for him.

“Ooh, smells yum in there,” Leon says. “Jasmine?”

“Who the fuck knows, but it’s better than stale piss.”

James slips in, grimacing, lifting his arse out of the leather seat when it squelches. He tosses the bag on my lap, and I grunt.

“What is this?” I ask, looking inside, seeing stacks and stacks of soaking wet cash. “The fuck?” I blurt, looking at James. “In the midst of all that, you managed to get this out?”

He shrugs. “We’ve got ten new mouths to feed, dear.”

“Hey D-boss,” Leon says, leaning in through my window. “I was thinking we need a few more water sports on the cove. Paddleboarding, scuba diving, that kind of thing.”

James and I both let out a bark of laughter. Scuba diving? Jesus, it must be like a mass graveyard on the seabed of this cove. “No,” I say shortly, dipping my hand into the bag and pulling out a handful of bundles, maybe a hundred grand. “Share this between you and Jerry,” I say, stuffing it into his chest. “And lose this in the accounts.” I toss the rest of the cash at his feet and cluck his cheek. “Good work today.” I face the windscreen as my mobile rings. “Nolan.” I answer and get straight to the point. “Brad’s been shot.”

“What?”

“Shot, Nolan. He’s been shot.”

“Oh my God, I’m on my way. Where? Where am I going?”

“Nowhere. He’s fine. Doc’s seeing to him back at the house. We need you to keep things ticking over there. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Yeah, okay.” He sounds completely bewildered.

“He’ll be okay, kid.” I say, softening, before hanging up and letting my body go heavy in the seat. “Now get me the fuck home.”

James smiles at the wheel and pulls off, and I relax back, bracing myself for the next shitstorm.

20

ROSE

I follow Fury toward the kitchen, mentally estimating how much weight he has hanging from his arms in the form of groceries. A whole cartful. “Are we feeding five thousand?” he asks as he heaves them upward and places them on the island.

“Every time I come home it feels like someone new has moved in.” I drop my purse on a stool and start sorting through the bags. “I miss Esther.”

He drops to a stool and flexes his hands. “I’ve missed the boy.”

My working hands falter, my heart squeezing. Soon. He’ll be here soon. “Me too.” I smile and pull out a bottle of orange juice, holding it up. Fury nods, so I fetch a glass and pour him some. “And you must miss Tank.” I push the glass toward him, and he drinks it all before answering.

“Not as much as you,” Fury says with a hint of a smile. “You have me until you get him back.” He looks at his watch, as I roll my eyes. “What time do they land?”

I glance at the clock on the stove as I pull out a huge bag of pasta. “About now.” Excitement flutters in my tummy. “You want to slice some zucchini?” I take one of Esther’s aprons and slip it on.

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