their target had been – and Reece Brogan was a good one; a very good one – he hadn’t wanted them killed. No, what he was doing here was firing warning shots. That was all. Just warning shots. For now.
Jason looked at Jimmy, a flash of nervousness flickering across his face. ‘We didn’t stop to check. You told us not to stop.’
Jimmy swung back round to look at them both. ‘Of course I told you not to stop… Jesus… The more damaged the better, but I wanted him alive.’
Amos shrugged as he chewed on a match sticking out the corner of his mouth, a slight smirk on his way-too-cocky face. ‘Surely leaving him for dead would’ve gotten the message across more? You hear what I’m saying?’
Jason shot his sidekick a warning look as Jimmy glared at Amos, who glared back, seemingly unflustered as Jimmy walked over to him, leaning over as he spoke in a low and darkly dangerous tone.
‘You listen to me and you listen good. Your opinion is neither relevant nor wanted. I’m paying you to do what I say not to offer up fucking ideas, so keep your loose mouth shut and your brain very much in neutral. You hear what I’m saying?’
Amos broke the stare, spitting the chewed matchstick onto the floor as Jimmy backed off, walking towards the corridor that led to his office, not looking back as he spoke.
‘Get out of here, both of you. Lose the car, and lie low.’ He turned around for a second, fixing both of them with a look that neither could ignore. ‘Because, if I hear of any bragging, any boasting… anything that links either of you two to what happened today, I will not be happy. And you really don’t want that to happen. Believe me.’ He turned back around and carried on walking towards the corridor, lighting up another cigar as he walked. ‘If I need you again, I’ll be in touch.’
And, slamming the door behind him, that was it. He was gone. Away to contemplate just what his next move was going to be.
CHAPTER 33
Reece felt as though a hammer was being slammed constantly against the side of his skull, every bone in his body aching like he’d just run a succession of marathons, one after the other.
Wincing as he pushed himself up into a sitting position he fell back against the pillows, closing his eyes as he tried to remember the past couple of days, and the incident that had put him in this much pain. But everything was still very much a blur. He remembered running out of The Amber Palace; he remembered that still-resounding anger he’d felt at finding out just what it was that Michael had done to India, he remembered all of that. How could he forget? But, after that, all he remembered was an incredible amount of noise and a crashing blackness descending over him.
He’d spent just two days in hospital, suffering no more than a fractured wrist, a couple of broken ribs and slight concussion. For a man of his age it had been a miracle he hadn’t been hurt far more seriously, so the doctors had told him. But the Brogan’s were a tough bunch, that was for sure. Look at how India had survived her accident? Nobody had expected her to come through it alive yet here she was, just months afterwards, fit and healthy. His beautiful daughter who – along with Martha – had been by his bedside constantly, so grateful he was okay, her eyes filled with frightened tears as she’d clung onto his hand, just as he’d done with her not that long ago.
‘Hey, what are you doing? You should be resting,’ Martha sighed, bustling into the bedroom, looking like the most glamorous nurse anyone could ever imagine.
Reece couldn’t help smiling. ‘I’m sitting up, Martha. Not doing cartwheels across the bedroom.’
‘Still got your sense of humour then?’ she said, a smile starting to appear at the corner of her mouth. And she hadn’t really smiled in days, not until she’d known her husband was going to be okay. She sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his hand, bringing it up to her lips and kissing it lightly. ‘Is this going to be a lesson to you?’
Reece looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes. ‘A lesson?’
‘Leave the past alone, Reece.’
He flung the covers off and climbed out of bed, wincing again at the pain he still felt every time he moved.