of their clients.
On the inside, behind the scenes, money was the tool. Cash was loaned to anyone who was desperate and couldn’t get it elsewhere, and paid back with crippling percentage rates. Beatings were rife if money wasn’t delivered on time and had to be collected. The monthly parties that they’d recently set up were working a treat to bring in extra too. It was something that Eddie Steele didn’t like, but the money they were raking in each time was not to be sniffed at.
Josh knew the police were keeping an eye on him and the Steeles, as were the family they were rivals with, the Woodmans. They too were watching their enemies. Eddie had asked Josh in particular to pay attention to what was going on, even though Leon thought he was looking after the gym.
He clasped his hands together in front of his body and flexed his biceps. They almost seemed to pop out of his skin and he smiled at himself in the mirror.
‘Looking good,’ he said quietly. ‘Looking good.’
A noise made him turn his head. He thought he’d heard a door open and he listened for a moment. But there was nothing else, so he went back to admiring himself.
Peace and quiet meant that he could pay attention during his workout. Music blaring through the day, the thump of the treadmills, the whining of the rowers, plus the banter from the clients all faded away once he was on his own. There were mirrors all around that he could look at without fear of being called narcissistic. He was vain, he admitted freely, but in this job it paid to look good. Working for Eddie Steele, it was expected.
He pushed the barbell above his head, glancing at a photo beside him on the wall. He and Eddie were fourteen and wearing boxing gloves, arms around each other’s shoulders after fighting in the ring. Eddie had always been victorious in everything he did. He had a vicious streak Josh couldn’t match, no matter how hard he tried.
Josh had known the Steele family since he was at junior school. He and Eddie had been in the same class and had gelled during a PE session when Eddie had legged someone over for tackling the football from him. A fight had ensued and Josh managed to break it up after the teacher had blown his whistle. As he pulled the boy up, a swift thump in the stomach when the teacher wasn’t looking ensured that he and Eddie clicked.
And it wasn’t just he and Eddie who had got close. Eddie’s sister, Jade, had been the local sleep-around for years beyond school. At thirty-two now, she was the youngest of the three Steeles. Josh had spent a year with her himself in his early twenties, before realising his anger and temper would be better served to superior uses. Jade knew exactly how to wind him up. It was as if she goaded him deliberately. And because she was a Steele, the fact that he couldn’t slap her around if she proved a threat to anything he was doing didn’t sit well with him. He and Eddie had their fingers in lots of pies back then, long before the gym opened, and he wasn’t up to losing that.
If it weren’t for Josh Parker, Leon would be second-in-command. Josh knew that Leon hated this and there was no love lost between them. Much to Josh’s annoyance, Eddie had always bailed Leon out of trouble, and since they were teens, Leon had wanted in with everything they did. Josh hadn’t liked it, yet he’d put up with it, biding his time over the years before Leon could be taken out of the equation altogether. But now, Leon was stronger than ever, even though he was still only the younger brother.
Josh had tried on many occasions to land Leon in trouble with the law so that he’d be booted off to prison for a few years, allowing Josh to get his claws into the family business. There was so much up for grabs, and he wanted it. He’d earned it. And it was time he got what he was owed.
After a post-workout shower, Josh switched off the lights and locked up the building. Walking around to the back of the car park, he clicked off the alarm as he drew level with his car. The lights flashed yellow and he opened the boot and put in his gym bag. But as he closed it, he jumped as a figure appeared at the side of the car.
‘What do you want?’ he asked, rolling his eyes.
Out of nowhere, something was sprayed in his face. He squeezed his eyes shut as they began to burn.
‘What the …?’
Josh put his hands to his face and staggered. More liquid was thrown on him. Then the smell of burning flesh was all around him as he dropped to his knees.
Crying out, he writhed on the ground. Some bastard had thrown acid at him. It was going to ruin his face! Fear coursed through him, tears were too painful to form. In desperation, he rolled over, trying to dampen his hands on the tarmac, wet from a recent thunderstorm.
He could hear nothing but his own screams as his skin fell from the backs of his hands. Breathing heavily, he tried to listen, to see if his attacker was still there. Was there anyone near him now? He pulled a hand away from his face, but pain ripped through him again and he cried out. It was as if his skin had shrunk, stretching like torn cling film.
Time seemed to slow as the burns went deeper. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he was pulled over onto his back. Someone straddled him.
He couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t even hold out a hand in defence. All he could do was shout.
In silence, his attacker raised a knife high in the air.
WEDNESDAY – DAY 2
Grace slowed down to catch her breath, and her run became a jog.
The house she was renting was around five miles from Bethesda Police Station, depending on which road you took, in a part of the city called Weston Coyney. Caverswall Avenue was just through a set of busy traffic lights and near to Park Hall Country Park.
The house was a pre-war semi, tucked away at the top of a cul-de-sac. Phil and Becky Armstrong, who lived next door, had been relieved to see her moving in, telling her in much detail about the rowdy family who had been evicted. It explained why it was clean and recently decorated, with a newly fitted kitchen and bathroom. Everything had been trashed before the last tenants had left.
Making sure the sound of the machine couldn’t be heard through the walls of the adjoining house was the first thing Grace had checked with her neighbours. There was nothing worse than the drone and pounding of a treadmill, especially in the early hours of the morning. Luckily, she had space for it at the back of the house in the small conservatory, and the couple told her they couldn’t hear anything. They said they didn’t mind a bit of noise here and there after what they’d had to live with for the past six months.
She glanced at her watch: 5.35 a.m. Today’s date had played heavily on her mind for the past few days. It was surprising she’d got any sleep really. But she had forced herself to read on her Kindle until she’d drifted off.
It was in the early hours that she’d woken up covered in a layer of sweat and sat up in bed. She could feel tears on her face; she hadn’t cried in her sleep for a long time. She’d reached for the pillow on the empty side of the bed and let her tears continue.
The day had hardly begun and yet she was already dreading seeing the date on any paperwork she’d have to complete. September twelfth. Five years to the day that her life had changed forever.
In early 2013 she’d had a healthy husband who loved running with her and playing football every weekend. But shortly after his birthday in July, his weight began to drop a little, and it became difficult for him to shake off any minor bugs. His energy levels plummeted and, after a blood test at the doctor’s, he’d been fast-tracked to the hospital as a matter of urgency.
Five years ago to the day, they had found out he had acute myeloid leukaemia. The consultant had spent an hour with them going through what could be done. It was curable and correctable with chemotherapy, but there was no possible way of knowing whether, even if they cleared it this time, it wouldn’t come back. It had – three times in total – and he’d lost his fight in 2016.
Grace ran faster