Page 47 of Parker
Chapter thirty-eight
Parker Fashion House, Glasgow
Joel
“Boss, these guys are the best in the business. All of them are ex-military and have dealt with hostage situations in the past,” Boyd tells me as he reads down the list of names. “But they don’t come cheap. You’re looking at five hundred thousand for them to get involved.”
“Whatever it takes,” I growl. “Just get them home safe. Both of them.”
“I’ll give them the go-ahead and organize payment.
” He places his hand on my shoulder. “Joel, we’ll do everything in our power to bring them home.
But you must be prepared for the worst.” He sounds almost fatherly as he speaks.
It’s a tone I’ve never heard. Loving almost. With that, he turns and lifts his phone to his ear, leaving me in my office to stew in my own thoughts.
Nicky is being kept in a backstreet brothel beside the River Clyde. The property used to be a privately run hotel until the owners borrowed money from the wrong loan shark. The interest kept mounting, so the financier took the building as payment.
We know there are ten bedrooms, and we believe Nicky is being kept on the top floor in room number 402.
Guards are stationed at the entrance, then throughout the building, each one carrying a firearm and taser.
But most are taking the time for some extracurricular activity with the girls who work there.
Boyd managed to grab a patron as he left the premises to flush him for information. They’ll be expecting us, so we need to be clever if we’re going to get her out alive.
***
“Midnight,” the man Boyd tasked to save my wife says. “We ambush at midnight. By that time, the men will be well-oiled, and the girls will be busy entertaining customers. Three of us will go in via the roof—there’s a skylight in the attic. We’ll be able to drop down unseen.”
I listen to this man I don’t know, who I’m trusting with saving the love of my life and my unborn child. He doesn’t look like a superhero.
He’s small and wiry, and his cargo trousers hang low on his hips, while his t-shirt is loose across his torso.
His two companions are the exact opposite, tall and broad, with more muscles than a wrestler.
I can’t stop picturing her. Alone. Hurt.
Terrified. What if I get there too late?
What if I lose them both before I even get to say sorry?
“Boyd, have your men stationed around the building. Once we’re in and on the top floor, we’ll confirm the situation with Nicky. When we have eyes on her, I’ll give you the signal to ambush. All ground floor windows and doors will be set to blow to allow you entry.”
Boyd nods. “Joel, you need to stay out of the way.”
“No, she’s my wife.” He holds his hand up to silence me.
“If we need you, we’ll call you in. I’ve got a better chance of getting Nicky out without you there. You’re too recognizable, and, I believe, the main target.”
I’d walk through a hail of bullets for her, and they’re telling me to wait in the shadows like a coward. It feels like betrayal. Every second I’m not there, trying to reach her, is a second she may think I won’t come.
“I’ll be outside, no further,” I tell him.
“No,” Boyd says, his tone calm but firm. “You’ll wait where I tell you to.”
I open my mouth to argue again as my mother comes to my side.
She places her hand on my shoulder, squeezing it beneath her fingers in silent support.
She’s not spoken since arriving, only listened closely to each word from Boyd.
Her blonde hair is messy and twisted on top of her head in a knot.
The velvet jogging suit she’s wearing is normally never seen outside her home.
The calm, collected Imelda has vanished, and in front of me is a grandmother, terrified for her family.
“Listen to Boyd,” she says softly. “He knows what they mean to you.”
Her voice stops me cold. Not because she’s right, but because I realize I’m the one losing control. I change tack.
“If you get eyes on that bastard Drayton, shoot to kill. No excuses,” I tell the men I’m trusting.
“Your wishes are noted. If we have the opportunity, we’ll take Drayton out,” he confirms. “Let’s get your family home.”
***
We congregate in an underground parking lot five blocks from the seedy hotel. This is where I’ll stay until I get the call to go to them. My mother sits beside me in the car and holds my hand.
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” I hiss. “I should be with them. If Drayton wants me, he can have me.”
“Son, you and I both know that he wouldn’t swap you for her. You being there would just be a distraction to the team and the enemy. He would use it to his advantage if he caught wind. It’s not worth the risk.”
“She’s my wife,” I shout, hitting the steering wheel with both hands. It vibrates violently. “And she has my child inside her. They’re always worth the risk.”
What’s the point of having all this power, all this money, if I can’t even protect the people I love?
My head drops into my hands, and I lean forward onto the wheel. The feeling of hopelessness, fury, and lack of control are all-consuming. My mother’s phone vibrates. It’s Boyd.
In position.
“Let them do what they’re trained to do,” she warns me. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Anything stupid!” I spit. “The stupidest thing I did was paint a target on Nicky’s back. I should never have gotten involved with someone from outside of our lifestyle. She was dragged into this because of my selfishness. My inability to stay away from her.”
“No, son. Nicky is still in your life because she loves you. If she really wanted to leave, she would have accepted your offer of a new life abroad. She would have gone and never looked back. But she didn’t.”
“We’re not together. And after this, if we get them out of there alive, she’ll never want to come near me again. Never mind, let me see my son,” I mumble into my hands. “Can you see the ambulance?”
She nods.
There is a private ambulance and specialist doctor on standby to check Nicky over as soon as she’s free. Then I’m taking her home, to our home, no excuses. Together or not, she’ll be staying with me until our baby is born.
My mother’s phone beeps again. Boyd refused to contact me directly; he said having distance would be better and my mother would keep me updated about what I needed to know.
I was too emotionally involved to make sensible choices apparently, and having too much information could lead to me making a rash decision which could cause more harm than good.
Moving in.
The next thirty minutes are the longest of my life, sitting in my car in an underground garage waiting to hear if they’re safe. I go to turn the key in the ignition, not able to wait for news any longer. My mother reaches across and puts her hand on mine.
“Joel,” she cautions, “stay here.”
“Get out!” I snap. Her eyes widen in shock. I never speak to my mother like that. She settles herself further into her chair in defiance. “Fine, come fucking with me then.”
I turn the key and the engine springs to life, then we reverse out of the parking bay and make our way to the exit. One of my men steps out in front of the car. I stop and roll down the window.
“Boss, I’ve not received any updated instructions,” he advises. “You’re to remain here until the threat has been minimized.”
I glare at him. “Open the barrier.”
“Boss, Boyd’s orders were to stay here until otherwise told.”
“Open the damn gate,” I roar. “Now, or you’ll not be standing here tomorrow. I’m fucking in charge.”
He retreats from the car window and opens the barrier. It lifts excruciatingly slowly. We race out underneath it, into the lamppost-lit streets. My mother’s phone springs to life ringing in her palm within seconds.
“Hello,” she says. I hear Boyd’s brisk voice on the other end of the line but can’t make out what he’s saying.
“What’s happening?” I hiss, and she narrows her eyes at me.
“We’ll be there in a moment,” she replies and disconnects the call. “They’ve got her. She’s out. She’s alive.”
My mother places her hand on mine, and I breathe for the first time since Sophie came to my office to alert me Nicky was missing. We drive in silence the rest of the way.
The private ambulance arrives moments after us as we pull to a stop next to the river. Men are scattered all over the road. Jumping out of the car, I run in the direction of the biggest group.
“Where are they?” I shout, and they all turn to face me.
The man nearest signals toward the building. I look across and see Boyd sitting on a small wall with his arm around Nicky. She’s wrapped in a blanket, the doctor is already kneeling in front of her, talking.
Suddenly, I’m unsure what to do. I should be running. But what if she turns away? What if our baby didn’t make it? Part of me wants to run over there and envelop her in my arms; the other part is terrified of being rejected.
I stand frozen to the spot, watching the proceedings. My mother comes to my side and takes my arm, pulling me toward them. We walk over together; my heart lodged in my throat.
Nicky’s eyes are trained firmly between her feet. She can’t even look at me. Boyd glances up at our arrival.
“Boss,” he says, and Nicky looks up. Her face is streaked with tears. She pulls the blanket around herself protectively.
“It’s over, Nicky,” Boyd assures her. “Drayton’s dead, and his mob are on the run. You’re safe.”
“Mrs. Parker, are you all right to come with me now?” the doctor says. She looks at him warily. “We’ll go into the ambulance, just over there. I’ll check you and your baby over to make sure you are both well.” He speaks slowly and deliberately.
She nods, then stands, wobbling on her feet. Boyd holds her arm to support her. My gaze moves over her, our child firmly snuggled in her swollen belly.
How did she keep this hidden for so long?
When we kissed at the garden party, she must have known she was pregnant. Anger surfaces for the first time since I found out. Was she ever planning to tell me?