Pen went white, a ghostly pallor consuming her usually-flushed features. “Where’s your mobile? Call the officers, they only just left.”
Andrew nodded and rushed back into the living room. His phone was on the coffee table. He’d put it there when the officers had been questioning him. But now, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, Andrew could see that it was gone. In fact the entire coffee table was now upended, placed upside down on the ruined carpet.
A message.
Pen came up behind Andrew, a little too close, and made him flinch. He turned to her and put his hands on each one of her shoulders. “You, me, and Rebecca are getting in the car, right now.”
Pen nodded and followed him without argument as he rushed across the living room. He entered the hallway and turned towards the stairs. “Rebecca,” he shouted. “Get down here now.”
Andrew waited for a reply, but there was none. Panic blasted through his veins as he considered the reasons why.
A knock at the door.
Andrew looked at his wife. She looked back at him like a rabbit staring into the headlights of a speeding truck. Then she spoke. “It could be the police. They only just left.”
Andrew considered the possibility and decided it was viable.
Another knock at the door.
Andrew looked back up the stairs. “Bex, are you okay up there?”
Still no answer.
Andrew made a decision. He entered the porch and opened the front door.
But it was not the police officers standing there.
Two black youths stood in front of Andrew, identical in appearance. The twins from Frankie’s gang. A voice came from behind Andrew and he spun around. Frankie stood at the top of the stairs, holding Bex around the throat from behind. She was shaking and sobbing.
Frankie scowled down the stairs at Andrew. “Call the cops on me? Big mistake.”
Frankie pushed Bex forward. Her bare feet found nothing but air and she fell, hitting the steps and tumbling awkwardly to the bottom of the staircase. Andrew wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard something snap. The sound made him feel sick.
Before Andrew had the chance to react, something struck the back of his head.
His world went dark.
Chapter Eleven
Davie followed Dom and Jordan into Andrew’s house, with Michelle trailing behind. Frankie was already inside standing over the unconscious bodies of both Andrew and his daughter. The older woman was screaming out hysterically for help.
“Sort that bitch out, will ya?”
Davie realised that Frankie was talking to him, but found himself unable to do anything other than stand there with his jaw agape.
Frankie pushed Davie and snapped him out of it. “Sort the bitch out now, before she brings attention to us.”
“W-what you want me to do?”
Frankie shook his head impatiently. “What you think I want you to do, you mug? Take her into the living room and shut her goddamn mouth.”
Davie nodded and took the woman away, holding her gently by the arm. She didn’t struggle, but neither did she cease her screaming. They entered the living room and Davie eased the woman onto the couch. Then he sat down beside her.
“You’ve got to be quiet,” he told her in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “Frankie will kick off if you don’t shut up.”
The woman carried on shouting out for help, but slowly her words were becoming a continuous, garbled slur. Gradually the volume of her voice lowered.
Davie patted her on the back. “That’s it. Just try to calm down. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Frankie entered the room. “You kidding me? Why don’t you bake her a cake as well.”
Davie stood up and faced his brother. “I’m just trying to calm her down. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Frankie nodded and smiled. “Just keep an eye on her.”
Davie nodded and sat back down beside the woman. Frankie moved behind an armchair in the room and shoved it forward along the carpet. Then he went and drew the curtains shut and turned down the lights with the dimmer switch.