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That was when the noise suddenly died as I realised, I’d been herded somehow into a quieter little side street away from the main action—the four men from the Range Rover encircling me.
Colour and noise, people and smells, heat and light, basically all that I’d just been engulfed by—enough to overwhelm my senses—evaporated at the sight of them. Their cold faces. Dead eyes. Shadows were their companions and the world became black and devoid at the sensation of them trapping me, here.
Silence. Dark, deadly. Silence.
Before I knew what was happening, four shots rang out, like whispers on the wind. As dead as their eyes had been before, they really did look dead as they fell one by one to the ground.
My eyes darted around until landing on the source of those shots.
Eric, with his unmistakable physique, hair and slick movements, crept across a girder above my head where he’d been hiding or had just positioned himself for the purpose of…
After walking the length of the girder, he leapt off an extension roof.
I started to go into shock when he wrapped one arm securely around me, tucked his gun with the silencer still on into his jacket, then turned around the buggy with that one free hand as he directed me and the baby back out into the chaos.
“Do what I say or you’ll both die,” he said, every word bitten out.
I knew I had no choice.
Chapter Ten
In a daze I followed his lead. Back to the supermarket, into the car—him driving. The baby was mercifully asleep, didn’t know a thing about all the crap going on around him.
The journey back towards London happened in a blur. I was under no illusion that even if he was just as much of a protector as Caelan, I was unsafe. I didn’t know if I could trust a single atom of him, let alone who my true enemy really was.
No words were spoken. I felt like if someone touched just a hair on my head I might explode and I didn’t want to kill anyone—ever again.
Once was enough.
He’d just killed four men in seconds like it was nothing.
The car suddenly stopped and I realised we’d ended up in a rough part of town.
Perhaps I was in survival mode, trying to stay quiet and small and the opposite of obnoxious, because I blindly followed as he grabbed the car seat and clicked his fingers for me to move faster and follow him towards a terrace property.
When he walked straight indoors, I was all at odds. He hustled me in and shut the rickety wooden door behind me, locking it, then popping on the chain. The place smelt grimy and when we passed a kitchen as we walked along the hallway, everything was Formica, lino and stains.
There was an unkempt woman in a corner watching the horse racing on ITV. She didn’t look up at either of us, or the baby who’d started to make a little bit of noise in his seat. He stirred.
“Ma, it’s me,” he said gruffly.
She waved her hand around as if his voice was a far-off annoyance.
“Has anyone been here?” he growled.
“Only you pissing me off,” she grouched.
Scanning the room quickly, I saw old photos of a white-haired gangly boy. Siblings, too.
A distant memory hit and I remembered he grew up in Bromley. That was where we’d ended up, then.
Eric did a quick scan of the downstairs rooms, checked in the back yard, then returned. He handed me his gun just as I was about to pick Logan up. The baby stirred and yet…
“I need to pack. Hold the fort. You can use a gun?” He gestured at the gun he’d just shoved into my hands.
I swallowed hard. “Use a gun?”
“Yes?”
