Daddy's Here(41)

I did as he asked and turned round to see him pulling open an intricately carved wardrobe. Reaching inside, he then spun round and lifted what looked like a gun. “No, wait,” Kingsley began but he got no further. The vicar pulled the trigger and Kingsley collapsed to the ground a second later.

“What the…?” I managed to say as he pulled down his hood to reveal his face. “Jake? What the hell? What are you doing here?”

“I came to get my little girl,” he said. “Come on, we better go.”

He grabbed my hand and pushed open the door to the churchyard. As we ran out, I glanced to my left, seeing the slumped body of Kingsley next to that of the vicar who’d been hidden behind the table. “Don’t worry,” he said, noticing my look. “They’ll be right as rain in ten minutes and by then we’ll be long gone.”

He stopped by a red sports car at the edge of the churchyard. We both climbed in and he revved the engine, setting off a second later.

“Shit,” he said, glancing in the rear view mirror. “I guess he noticed.”

“What?” I looked behind me in time to see a car accelerating towards us. “What do we do now?”

“Go faster,” he replied, putting his foot to the floor.

If it was an action movie, we’d probably have raced out of the city, headed into the sunset and lived happily ever after. But instead we ended up weaving our way through traffic with Tony’s car following close behind, getting closer all the time.

“Hold on,” Jake said, yanking the steering wheel to the side just before Redfern Bridge. We turned onto the bridge just as a car appeared at the far end, heading towards us. “That’s not good,” I said, pointing at it.

“No,” Jake said, bringing the car to a halt. “It’s not.”

The two chasing cars drew closer before coming to a halt. The bridge ran over a deep valley, a river far below. There was no chance of escaping on foot. The road was quiet enough that the only vehicles on it were ours and Tony’s.

The car in front of us stopped about fifty yards away, the one behind did the same. Tony got out as I turned to look at his car. He walked slowly towards us, two men getting out of the rear seats. They stood together and just watched their boss.

“All right,” Jake said, as Tony came to a halt a couple of feet away. “You win.”

“I always win,” Tony replied. “Come with me, Isabel.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head and stepping slowly backwards until I was pressed against the railings. “I won’t marry him.”

“The hell you won’t,” Tony snapped, lunging for me, his arms outstretched.

I screamed as Jake shoved me in my side, knocking me to the floor. Tony grabbed hold of empty space, his momentum keeping him moving forwards, his body tipping over the railing.

He screamed, grabbing hold of the bottom of the railing, dangling down off the edge, his feet kicking at nothing. “Help me,” he said, looking up at me with eyes wild.

I ran to grab him, catching his flailing hand and gripping it tightly. “Hold on,” I said, trying to pull him upwards. His men were running over but they were too far away to help. His hand slipped through mine as Jake reached past me, stretching towards him with longer arms than mine.

“No,” Tony muttered, “please, no.”

I tightened my grip but his weight was too much. His fingers slid free of my hand then he was falling, his men reaching us a second too late. We all watched him go, his body hitting the river far below and vanishing from sight.

“Fuck,” one of his men said, turning to look at me. “The boss is dead.”

“Good riddance,” a voice said behind me and I turned to find myself looking at a very pale Kingsley. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “He never liked me smoking.”

The goons looked to him and then moved to grab me. “He waved them away. “I’m in charge now.”

I stood in silence as the goons walked slowly away, leaving us alone with Kingsley. He leant over the side, flicking cigarette ash downwards. “I never wanted to marry you,” he said quietly. “That was his choice, not mine.”

I stayed silent, Jake standing close beside me, wary in case it was a trap.

“Don’t worry,” Kingsley said, standing up straight again and turning to face us. “It’s over.”

“Just like that?” Jake asked.

“Just like that.”

An hour later, I was sat next to Jake at my father’s house, a glass of whiskey in my hand and my father sat opposite, apologising for the tenth time. Finally, he lapsed into silence before sighing and refilling his glass. He turned to Jake. “So you’ll want paying, I suppose?”