Page 91 of Reclaim (Deadly Hearts 3)

The half an hour drive from Prestbury to Moss Side, just south of the city, gives me time to think. I need to nip this in the bud. I don’t want it hanging over my head and Layton’s mum having this power over me. Not to mention, I don’t want that bitch who called herself my mother to be residing in a nice home, with a kind old lady. Fuck that. She deserves to rot at the bottom of the Ship Canal, and that’s exactly where I’m going to throw her as soon as I get my hands on the fucking thing.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I drive into my old neighborhood and grimace. I’ve come a long way since growing up here. Renowned as a rough area of Manchester, it’s any wonder Layton and I made it out, especially with the people we hung around with.

I pull up outside Mrs. Travers house. The nicest on the block, if not the whole area. She always made sure that despite having rough neighbors, her tiny front garden was immaculate and inside was clean and homey. A far cry from my own home, which was pretty much a dumpster fire.

Taking a deep breath, I turn off the engine and climb out. It’s still really early, but she always was an early riser.

Opening the gate, I walk up the garden path and knock quietly on the door.

“Ramsey,” she says moments later. “Look at you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Travers. You look lovely.”

She beams. “Do you want to come in? I just made a fresh pot of tea.”

“No, I need to get to work,” I lie. “But thank you.”

She nods and then leans to the side. She reverently hands me the urn. I don’t even want to look at it, never mind handle it, but I take it from her with a smile.

“Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome. I knew you’d come around.”

I grimace, but don’t rise to it. “I’d better go,” I mumble.

“Of course.”

“Thanks again,” I say, backing away and holding the urn up.

She waves me off and as I open the garden gate again, my phone rings.

“Ruby,” I say as I answer it.

“Where are you?”

“I had an errand to run, is everything okay?”

“I’m wondering the same about you.”

“I’m good,” I reply with a smile, opening up the car and dumping the urn on the passenger seat before I slide in and start the engine.

“Are you on your way home? I need to talk to you.”

I glance at the urn and decide it can wait. “Yes, I’ll be there in about forty minutes.” The morning rush hour is starting.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

She hangs up and I drop my phone next to the urn and set off.

Heading back towards Ruby’s house, I wonder what is so important that she wants to speak to us about it. She tried to say something last night, but then the Maribel thing happened, and she went over to spend time with Linda.

I worry about it the whole way home, getting more and more frustrated with the traffic and the absolute lunatics on the road. Half of them need their heads checking if they think driving like a dickhead is acceptable.

Finally, I pull up on the drive at Ruby’s house and get out of the car, taking the urn with me. I leave it in the flower bed next to the front door and let myself in.

I step back as a vase comes flying towards me and crashes into the wall next to my head.

“What the fuck?” I ask, coming face-to-face with an enraged Ruby.

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