Page 82 of Come Back To Me

The Joker flashes his hazard lights twice, and I know he’sready. He starts indicating to take the next exit as planned.

Vincent jolts his head to me, then looks back to the lorry. His eyes are frantically trying to work out what’s going on. He revs his engine, but I manoeuvre my bike before he can get around me. I can’t let him fuck this up for all of us.

At this speed, on these roads, I can’t tell him what’s going on. He wasn’t supposed to be here—thisisn’t meant to go down like this. I raise my left hand, signalling for him to look at the lorry joining the road we’re on.

Understandably, a look of confusion mixed with anger dons Vincent’s face. Even from behind the neckerchief pulled up over his mouth and nose, I can see it in his eyes, the way they scrunch together behind his glasses.

The identical lorry continues to merge into traffic as we—Vincent included, follow the cargo full of illegal weapons.

The Joker pulls to a stop on a hidden side road.

Vincent stops his bike just ahead of mine. Reaching into his cut, he withdraws a gun, pointing it directly at me.

“Wait!” I shout.

“Tell me what the fuck you’re doing, right now!”

I cut my engine. “Put the gun away,” I say holding my hands up. “Put the gun away and I can explain what the fuck’s going on.”

His eyes dart to The Joker and Beats as they quickly jump down from the lorry. The Joker has his gun aimed at Vincent’s head.

“Stop!” I shout at him.

The Joker’s eyes jump between both mine and Vincent’s.

“Vince, put the fucking gun down!” I yell once more.

“Where’s Billy?” Vincent asks, still pointing his gun at me but looking at The Joker.

“Out cold,” Beats says, holding his jaw. “Had no choice but to knock the cunt out once he tried stopping us.”

Vincent suddenly points his gun at Beats. He’s outnumberedand he knows it.

“Vincent, we don’t have the fucking time for this. We’ve got to get the guns off that and onto another vehicle!”

As I say it, Mop pulls to a hasty stop right beside us. Len, Captain, Riggs and Skitz all jump out the back.

With no way out, Vincent lowers his gun, then moves to check on Billy.

“Bolt cutters, Mop!” I order, as he jumps out of the livestock lorry we borrowed from my uncle. It’s not fucking subtle, but given where we live it’ll blend in perfectly.

“Start explaining, right fucking now!” Vincent stomps his way towards me.

Mop breaks off the padlock, then throws up the shutters. He jumps on the back of the lorry, and I move to help him start switching the cargo to our vehicle.

“The Irish,” I say, as I climb on the back of the lorry. “They’re thirty miles east, waiting to stop this vehicle and take the guns.”

Vincent’s eyes blacken. He remains silent.

“The decoy will be intercepted. Nomads will ring once they see it happen.”

“And this?” He points to the lorry I’m in. “Why not carry on in this. Why the fuck are we switching here?!”

“Because, dickhead, they’re looking for this!” I swing my arm gesturing towards the lorry. “Once they find out someone knew, they could search high and low for this one.”

“And that?” he asks, watching the Rippers quickly load up the crates onto the livestock vehicle.

“That will deliver Costa’s guns.”

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