Page 55 of The Question of Us (Fisher & Church #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Madigan

If my blood pressure survived the night, it would be a fucking miracle. Pressed against the far outside wall of the barn, I waited for either the police to arrive or the security men to leave so that I could creep forward and see what was happening inside.

Nick had to be in there, Gazza too, and likely Lee.

Nothing else made sense. But as I waited and waited, my patience started to run out.

Forty minutes had passed an age ago. Where were the cops?

Where was Angela? I’d risked calling Samuel once I was sure about the barn and he’d assured me the police were almost there and more were on their way.

Paramedics as well. But it was taking too long.

I was desperate to know if Nick was okay so that I could set about planning his excruciating death for putting me through this whole fucking nightmare.

But the guards seemed like they’d settled in, smoking and chatting like they had all the time in the fucking world.

Unfortunately, they didn’t, but it was taking far too long for them to be made aware of that miscalculation.

Five minutes later and I was done with waiting around.

Any one of them could be bleeding out inside that barn while I sat outside doing fuck all.

I had to at least try to see what was happening inside.

I grabbed the fence post I’d taken from a pile next to the barn and started a wide circle around the back of the Land Rover.

What I thought I was going to do with it, who the hell knew, but holding it made me feel better.

I’d made it about halfway when one of the guards threw his cigarette to the ground, stamped on it, and then headed for the barn.

I froze, waiting to see if the second guard followed.

He didn’t, not at first, but when a scream came from inside, he pushed off the Land Rover and ran for the door.

A few seconds later, a shot rang out and my world stopped.

Oh God. Not Nick. Please, not Nick.

I dropped the fence post, clumsy weapon that it was.

Knowing my luck, I’d hit the steel doors with it and give myself away.

Then I sprinted for the barn, flattening myself against the steel panel just to the side of the open door.

With my heart thundering in my chest, I counted to three and then peeked around the jamb.

The two guards stood with their backs to me, their guns drawn on four men: Lee, Gazza, someone who had to be Aaron, and Nick. Oh, god, Nick.

I blinked back the tears. He was alive. They were all alive. But there was no time to celebrate the fact. They needed me. The men I loved needed me.

The shorter guard put his hand to his face a couple of times and then wiped it on his shirt.

In between, he barked angrily at Lee, who was clearly provoking him, although I couldn’t catch the actual words.

Then the guard slammed a heavy kick into Lee’s stomach and it was all I could do not to race inside and rip his fucking face off.

At first glance, I’d thought Nick and the others had been bound and gagged, but on closer examination, I realised that wasn’t the case.

Cable ties littered the floor and the duct tape was hardly secure.

Had they been working themselves free? Had they made a run at the guard? Was that what this was all about?

When the guard readied to launch another kick at Lee and Gazza rocked unsteadily on his feet like he was going to try and stop him, Nick hissed a warning Gazza’s way.

It was the first time I’d seen Nick’s face full-on—beaten and bloodied—and it ripped the air from my lungs. What the fuck had they done to him?

But the panic quickly subsided to be replaced by a raw fury the likes of which I’d never felt, propelling me forward. I slipped through the door and slid along the wall of the barn away from the others. Angry shouts and threats echoed in the space, but I couldn’t afford to look.

Keep going. Just keep going.

As I crept toward the far corner of the barn behind the pool, I raged.

How dare they touch him? How fucking dare they harm that precious man?

It had taken me fifty-five years to find him, to fall in love for the first time, to get the opportunity to share my life.

And no one, no one , was going to steal that future from me. Certainly not these arseholes.

I skirted around some kind of pool and continued to the furthest corner from the men. A few towels and coats beckoned from a long peg rack and I slipped behind them, flattening myself against the wall.

And then I waited . . . again.

Waited as the guard continued to rail at Gazza and Lee.

Waited through all Nick’s taunting and backchat. What the hell was the man thinking? We were going to have a strongly worded conversation the minute I got that stupid, gorgeous man alone.

Waited as vehicles pulled up outside the barn and Marty and Freddie started dishing out orders.

Waited as they laid out their plan while I prayed for the sound of sirens.

Waited as one of the guards was sent off.

Waited and waited and waited until that astonishing moment when Marty screamed and staggered back, his blood spraying an arc across the wall behind Lee’s head, a small blade flashing in Lee’s hand.

Holy fucking shit.

From there, everything moved in slow motion.

Freddie shifted to cover his boss.

Aaron pushed the remaining guard onto the floor.

Lee cut Aaron’s ankle tie and sent his brother running.

Freddie took aim at Lee.

And I readied myself. Because this was it. That singular moment when plans went out the window and you had to choose between going all in or doing nothing at all.

Because it hit me clear as a bell in that half-second.

There was only one way Marty was getting out of this mess.

He had to pass the buck. Claim self-defence or blame his men.

And the only way that worked was if there was only his and Freddie’s version on the table.

Freddie’s in order to back Marty’s up. It was the only solution.

Everyone else had to go—the guards, Nick, Lee, Aaron, Gaza.

Everyone.

I stepped out from under the coat, intent on a distraction. Something to slow things down. But just as I did, Nick, stupid, wonderful Nick, shouted, “No,” and made a run at Freddie.

But Freddie heard him coming and the shotgun turned. Seconds before Nick struck, a blast filled the barn, my heart stopped in my chest, and the world went into freefall.

The two men tumbled toward me, but I couldn’t see anything in the confusion of tangled limbs and jumbled bodies. Had Nick been shot? Was he hurt? I had no fucking idea.

Frozen in fear and caught out in the open for anyone to see, I watched in horror as Freddie grabbed Nick around the throat and shouted right into his face.

Nick bucked and fought Freddie’s hold, but the giant of a man was too strong. Then he said something to Freddie that I couldn’t catch and Freddie looked toward Marty.

Atta boy, Nick . You clever, clever man.

With Freddie distracted, Nick’s knee shot up into Freddie’s balls and the man buckled. But he didn’t let go. And before Nick could try a second time, sirens suddenly pulsed outside and red and blue lights lit up the barn.

Everything changed in an instant.

Doors slammed and shouts rang out.

The lights snapped off and the room became a wash of shadowy strobe-like movement lit by moonlight, police lightbars, and jerky flashlight beams.

“No!” Gazza’s desperate tone drew my attention and I could just make him out—lunging toward Marty as the older man reached for something on the floor.

But Gazza was too slow and Marty got to his feet, the outline of a shotgun in his hands. He lifted the weapon and made a slow turn toward Lee.

“Drop the gun and put your hands in the air,” a woman shouted. “Now, Mister Klein!”

A shot rang out with another fast on its heels, but I couldn’t get the order in my head. My panicked gaze swept the confusion. Then someone hit the lights and the barn’s interior lit up like a Christmas tree.

Nick. Where the fuck was Nick?

And then I saw them, Freddie with his hands still around Nick’s throat. I watched helplessly as Freddie fell back into the pool, pulling Nick with him, a wall of water erupting around them as Freddie dragged Nick under.

“Like hell!” I ignored the shouts of Gazza and Lee and what sounded like a dozen other voices I couldn’t identify and didn’t give a fuck about. With eyes only for Nick, who was still writhing under the water in Freddie’s grip, I kicked off my trainers and dived into the pool.

Cool water broke over my body as I dived into the deep circular pool at the end of the ramp.

In seconds that felt like hours, I reached them, churning water and flailing limbs a solid confirmation.

I broke the surface and caught Nick’s gaze just seconds before a huge body rose between us and forced him back under.

That familiar rage returned and I gulped a lungful of air.

Not on my watch, arsehole.

You took his husband. You are not taking Nick.

I wrapped my arm around Freddie’s bulky neck, hoping for a chokehold that would force him to release Nick. I had zero idea if I was doing it right, and as it turned out, I wasn’t. Freddie shook me off like an annoying pest and pushed Nick back under.

The shouting grew louder behind me, like people were gathered around the edge of the pool, but I wasn’t about to give up.

I tried again with Freddie, this time using the pool wall at my back for leverage so I could pull him against me. I must’ve done something right because he immediately began to struggle, letting go of Nick to try to wrench my arm from his throat.

Nick kicked free and relief flooded my heart. But the moment’s distraction was all it took for Freddie to free himself and spin me around, reversing our positions. He forced my arm up behind my back and tilted my body forward, pressing my face under the water.