Page 95 of Parker
Sophie’s car waits fifty meters away on the curb. An old, red Renault Clio with more bashed areas than not. If Sophie drove to the front of the house, I would’ve been questioned as to where we were headed. Attempting to leave my home like a prison break was the only option to get away unseen, and even then, it’s unlikely with Joel’s security.
Checking again that there are no eyes on me, I use all my strength to pull myself up and drop down to the other side. I hit the ground hard, the force jarring my knees. No time to check for bruises, I sprint. Sophie throws open the passenger door from the driver’s seat.
“Hurry up,” she screams.
Shouts erupt behind me. “She’s over the wall!” Boots scramble on gravel.
Diving in, I slam the door shut. Sophie’s foot hits the floor. In the mirror, two men dressed in black are pulling their phones from their pockets. We need to be quick.
“Give me your cell.” Sophie hands it over without question.
I take out the SIM, snapping it before tossing both phone and SIM out of the window. Joel can track anything. No doubt, my own phone is vibrating madly where I left it. I can almost hear it screaming my name. Will Joel ever forgive me? If I die trying to protect us, will he hate me?
I glance at my watch.
“We need to lie low for thirty minutes,” I say. “There’s a park just up here. Pull into the parking lot.” Sophie does as I ask. “Over there, behind that building, stop there. We can make the rest of the way on foot. It’s only about ten minutes away.”
The car pulls to a stop. She kills the engine.
We sit in silence, lost in our own thoughts. Part of me wants to pray, but the words don’t come. I just hold tight to rage and love. This isn’t a plan, but it’s the only shot I’ve got.
4:47 pm shows on the car’s clock.
Releasing the car handle, I open the door and step out under the darkening Scottish skies. Sophie does the same. We hide behind the disused toilet block and empty the contents of our backpacks on the ground.
I give Sophie the knives and the bat. She stuffs the blades into her deep pockets and hides the bat in her jacket. My pocket holds our only gun and the other a knife. We pull our baseball caps low and then march toward whatever comes next.
***
The industrial area is deserted on a Friday evening. Our destination sits in what must be an acre of barren concrete, a huge rectangular building with broken windows and graffiti.
We stop at the open metal gates, rusted in position.
“Let’s get this over with,” I hiss under my breath.
“You’re serious?” Sophie whispers. “We’re just walking in? That’s your plan? They could shoot us on sight.”
“We followed the instructions. No backup. Just us. He won’t kill us immediately—he needs me alive.” I keep my voice steady. “Hopefully, he comes close enough for me to shove this metal into his ribs.” I pat the weapon concealed in my coat. “They already know we’re here. If you want out, go now,” I tell her. “I’m here to protect my family. This is my fight, not yours.”
For a moment, I think she might bolt, then she takes my hand. And I’m grateful all over again for my best friend.
Then together, we walk toward the warehouse.
Chapter forty-two
Parker Fashion House, Glasgow
Joel
The photo was delivered to my office twenty minutes ago, one hour after I ordered every man onto the streets to look for my lunatic wife and her sidekick. The men from the house called Boyd as Sophie’s heap of junk sped away from them.
The air turned blue as he threatened to dismember them for being fucking useless. Evan sleeps soundly in his bouncer at my feet. My mother brought him straight over when I called her about Nicky’s escape.
Boyd and I sit on the sofa, staring at the image, not speaking.
It’s grainy. Off-center. But unmistakable.
Nicky and Sophie are tied to the roof of a car in the middle of a huge warehouse. Blindfolded. Gagged. Drayton sits in the driver’s seat, his hand ready to turn the key. Beside him, there is a slender pair of female legs, one knee crossed over the other. The photo is taken at an angle from above, as if the photographer was standing on a stepladder.
