All Mine (The All Mine Series), page 27
Barrel checked his phone and grinned, showing a gold tooth front right.
‘They’ve got their money,’ he said with a certain amount of satisfaction. ‘Lucky for you.’
Barrel hoicked his jeans up by the belt loops, and stretched, surveying the damage.
‘A job well done,’ he agreed. ‘Now we can claim the rest of the interest.’
He opened the canvas holdall he’d slung to the floor and pulled out some ripped-up rags and a can of petrol. Unscrewing the lid, he took a long hard sniff, eyes closed. Isabella could smell it from where she was. Her eyes watered.
‘Please,’ she gasped. ‘You said it yourself: they have the money.’
‘Your husband and his brother can’t fuck about with the Dougalls, you know,’ Barrel said.
‘I keep telling you I haven’t got a husband.’
‘Your boyfriend then,’ Toothpick said. ‘Etienne Martin.’
Isabella resisted looking at Etienne as she heard his name. It took every ounce of self-control she had to keep her eyes on the two men.
‘Him and his brother can’t keep the Dougalls waiting without expecting to pay the penalty . . .’
Barrel lifted the petrol in front of him and, tauntingly slowly, tilted the bottle until the amber liquid began to pour, splashing on the floorboards. He then jerked his arm and sent an arc of it over the nearest piles of broken wood. Isabella surged forward but Toothpick forced her away again, pushing her back towards the other women. She saw the fury simmering in Gabi’s face, the way she bore her weight on the balls of her feet, her stance ready to spring. Isabella realised that if she made a move, Gabi would be right there with her.
‘Wait a minute,’ Toothpick said to Barrel, before moving closer to Isabella. She saw something different on his face as he let his eyes linger on her body.
‘Old Man Dougall said she was a looker.’ He swapped his match from one side of his mouth to the other. ‘He wasn’t wrong.’ Barrel grinned again, flashing that gold tooth, before screwing the lid back onto the can of petrol.
‘They’ve got their money,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘And they’ll get their interest paid in ashes.’ He nodded at the petrol pooling on the floor before slowly removing his box of matches from his jacket pocket. He shook them, in silent consideration, before tossing the pack to Barrel, who caught them one-handed.
‘I’m thinking I might take me a bonus,’ Toothpick said, his tongue turning the toothpick over and over as he stared at Isabella. ‘And that’s you.’
Chapter Fifty-Six
Etienne
The air was heavy with the smell of petrol and the echo of those words. They changed everything. Etienne had held back, thinking the police or fire crew would be there by now, but the street outside was quiet and the restaurant already trashed. When the money was confirmed, he’d thought for one moment that would be enough. But now, the look on that man’s face, the way he licked his lips as he leered at her. Etienne would not let them touch Isabella. Never while he had breath in his body would that man lay a single finger on her. He groped about him frantically for a weapon, something he could use to strike. His hand closed on the shiny metal handle of the fire extinguisher.
He watched her through the crack of the door, barely ajar, his heart in his mouth. She straightened her back, steeling herself.
‘No,’ she said.
Toothpick raised his eyebrows at her and smiled. His teeth were as pointed and yellow as a rat’s as he pulled a revolver from his inside pocket and aimed it directly at her chest.
‘Nobody says no to me,’ he said.
Barrel laughed and his whole belly shook, as if he were watching one of the funniest films he’d ever seen.
‘Maybe I’ll take myself a bonus afterwards too,’ he said, turning his sweaty face to wink at Gabi.
Isabella shot a glance at Etienne, and he silently lifted one finger in front of his face and turned it in a tiny circle. She blinked. God, he hoped she understood. Turn him around. Get his back to the kitchen door. He tightened his grip on the extinguisher and readied himself.
She sidestepped left and the thug mirrored her, moving one step closer to Etienne.
‘It won’t take long,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, I can be sweet . . .’ He flicked his tongue in and out like a snake, balancing the match on it before tossing it back in his mouth.
Isabella took another step to the left.
Toothpick waved the gun at her and smiled, as though they were dancing. As if this was all part of the fun. Like he had all the time in the world. It was like watching a cat play with a mouse, knowing there was only one way the story was going to end.
Isabella took another step and the man followed, closing the distance between them. He was so close now and could grab her at any time. Isabella moved quicker again, darting to the left, and the man turned and lunged for her, his back to the kitchen. Etienne seized his chance and barged through the door so hard it flew back on its hinges, slamming against the wall. He hit the back of the man’s head with the fire extinguisher with such force that they both staggered forward and fell in a jumble of arms and legs. As they hit the floor, the gun went off.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Isabella
The noise of the gun reverberated in Isabella’s head and echoed around the decimated room. The smell of gunfire mingled with petrol and rum where the bottle lay spilled and dripping amongst the debris.
Isabella wasn’t hurt, but someone was moaning. She ran to Nonna, who was crouching on the floor, hands over her head. Gabi was standing over her like a lioness. They were both unscathed.
God, no, not Etienne. Her heart thumped. Was it Etienne? He lay flat out on top of Toothpick, and one them was bleeding. Blood bloomed across the floorboards from beneath them.
‘Etienne,’ she gasped and threw herself onto the floor beside him.
Etienne lifted his head, bleeding from something he’d hit on the floor. He crawled backwards off the man’s body and pushed himself to his feet. Isabella ran her hands over his chest, looking for blood but there was nothing. He wasn’t shot. He dragged her to him, away from the man writhing in agony on the floor, and she felt his arm around her like a life raft.
Toothpick moaned again, clutching his leg where blood was pumping through his jeans. He spotted the gun, forgotten on the floor, and made a last-ditch grab at it, but Isabella beat him to it by kicking it towards the corner. It skimmed away across the floor.
‘Do it now,’ hissed Toothpick at Barrel, ‘and then get me out of here.’ Barrel struck a match, and it hissed into life. He held it momentarily in the air to let it take hold. The flame spluttered into life.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The horror of it playing out around her like a film. Isabella heard her own shout and saw Etienne already diving for the fire extinguisher. The flame flickered taller, and Barrel tossed the match casually towards the petrol. It arced through the air, and Isabella’s shout rose to a scream of pure anger. This couldn’t be the way her dream ended.
Gabi took her moment. Crouching low before leaping upwards to grasp hold of one of the exposed timber beams across the restaurant ceiling, she used all her acrobatic training and strength to swing her legs backwards before flinging herself forwards, kicking the match perfectly with her pointed toe before it hit the ground. The impact of her foot kicked the flame clean out. Nonna flew in behind her and tipped the coffee pot on the dead match, just to be sure. Etienne put the icing on the cake by letting the fire extinguisher rip at the same spot.
Barrel had heaved Toothpick to his feet and they were lurching together to leave, leaving a trail of blood as they went. Sirens wailed as the emergency services closed in on the restaurant and by the time the two men had opened the door, the entire square was lit by the swirl of blue lights. Isabella saw the police outside rushing in to apprehend them. Walker was there too with his crew, parked in the middle of the square and aiming the fire hose at the restaurant frontage. How they all knew to be there, she couldn’t even guess.
Etienne went out to talk to them, leaving her standing alone for a second before Nonna and Gabi rushed to envelop her in family arms.
They watched, still holding each other as Walker stood his team down. It took two policemen to handcuff Barrel and fit him into a police car, and Toothpick was handcuffed too before being loaded onto a stretcher and wheeled into a waiting ambulance.
They saw Etienne pause in the centre of the square, alone. He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it to his ear, looking upwards, jaw taut. Then, whatever he heard on the other end made him squeeze his eyes tight shut, his head sagging backwards on his shoulders in relief. Blood ran through his hairline and dripped down his forehead, but he seemed not to notice it as he pocketed his phone again, then walked decisively towards Tutto Mio. A single firework shot into the sky behind him, exploding into a million white stars.
The other women drifted away from her as Etienne stepped in the doorway. But she didn’t notice. She only registered the noise of his feet as he crunched through glass towards her.
He stopped before her, within touching distance. His eyes were searching her face and they looked hopeful, apologetic, fierce, terrified. She could feel the tears trembling on her own lashes. Neither of them spoke, but when he put his arms around her and pulled her to his chest, she weaved her arms about his neck, holding on.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, pulling her tightly so that she fit against every part of him. ‘I’m so sorry, Bella.’
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Etienne
It was almost midnight and Etienne had only let Isabella out of his arms while he took his turn to give the police his statement.
His interview had taken the longest as he shared the entire story of Alex’s debt and the link to the Dougalls. The two police officers shared a look.
‘This might be just what we need to nail them,’ one said, but the other looked unconvinced. Etienne knew he was debating the fact that the Dougalls were nowhere near the attack itself.
‘Even if it’s not, it’s enough to bring them in for questioning.’
While Etienne would love to see them thrown in jail, so long as they left Alex and Isabella alone from now on, it was enough. And with the two-word message Alex had told him he received on transfer of the money; it seemed it was over. Debt Paid. Thank God.
The ambulance crew had dressed Etienne’s head wound and Isabella had held his hand throughout. Gabi had used Isabella’s phone and texted the Girl Gang WhatsApp and Wren, Rosie and Amber had dropped everything, turning up to sweep broken glass and make tea. Walker had organised a skip for the following day to clear out the piles of broken furniture. Nonna had passed around several glasses of rum and then taken herself off to bed.
Since finalising his statement, he had kept hold of Isabella’s hand. It felt like the most natural and obvious thing in the world and he wasn’t letting go.
Once everyone had gone, and Gabi had also gone to bed to watch an action film for research, Etienne sat with Isabella on the sofa and told her everything. Starting five years ago – no, before that, he corrected himself – when Alex started his gambling. How it got worse when their parents died. How Etienne had let him down by not giving him the money, by putting a woman first. He’d dropped his head at that point, not through embarrassment but through the realisation that what he felt those years ago was nothing, nothing, compared to what he felt for Isabella.
‘So that’s the whole fear of commitment thing,’ she said gently, finally understanding.
He told her about Alex’s phone call. How he would do anything to right his wrong and get what was left of his family back together.
‘You could have told me,’ she said. ‘I would have helped.’ It was such an Isabella thing to say that it stopped him in his tracks, wondering how he could have got it all so wrong.
He wound his fingers through hers. ‘Everything I did, I did to keep you safe,’ he said, squeezing her hand gently to make his point. ‘I’ve never felt like this for anyone before and I promise I will never hurt you again.’
He passed her a cushion to get comfy and told her the whole story, explained about Walker’s concern that the Dougalls were behind the fires. The sudden fear when Alex told him the Dougalls knew who he was. The overriding worry he was going to drag her into danger.
When he stopped talking, she was curled in the corner of the sofa so that she could face him, still holding his hand. In the silence he could hear the clock in the square chime midnight.
‘I feel the same, you know,’ Isabella said quietly. ‘About you.’
Their eyes met and held, and there was something burning so strongly there that it hurt his chest.
‘Since the first time I saw you, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. I was drawn back, time and time again,’ she said. ‘I just want to be with you.’
He smoothed her hair away from her face. ‘That’s good, because I’m not letting you go again. Not ever.’
He couldn’t stay away any longer. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, gently, conscious of her bruises. Her lips met his and his heart swelled with the tenderness of the kiss.
He pulled away to look into her face, only then noticing the shadows under her eyes, the paleness of her skin. Isabella smiled but it turned into a yawn, and he wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and watch her sleep. She stretched her arms above her head, letting go of his hand, and it felt strange and empty without her. She pushed herself to standing and he felt his shoulders sag. It was obviously time to go. She stretched again, before looking back at him.
‘Do you need to go home?’ she asked, tilting her head to one side.
He exhaled slowly.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I need to stay here.’
‘I was hoping you’d say that.’
She extended her hand to him again and he stood with her, pulled her into him, and she sighed, long and slow.
‘I’ll need to get up early in the morning to sort everything out,’ she said into his shoulder. ‘Cancel the bookings and the opening arrangements, change the social media adverts . . . fill the skip.’ She sighed again and he felt her disappointment inside his own body. Everything she’d worked so hard for, smashed to smithereens. The focus of her whole year, her adult life even, snatched away just as it was within taking distance.
‘Don’t cancel anything,’ he said. ‘Leave it all to me.’
She pulled away to see his face. Her skin was pale with shock and fatigue.
‘I can’t do that . . .’ she said, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. ‘It’s my business.’
He moved his hands to the top of her arms, shaking her ever so gently so that she listened.
‘I know you want to do everything on your own,’ he said. ‘I know you’re an independent, successful woman. But let me help. You helped me. You help everyone. I won’t let you down.’ It was suddenly vitally important to prove it to her. To show her he was a man of his word.
She lifted an eyebrow, considering.
‘You’ll open on Saturday as planned,’ he insisted and a tiny light of hope rekindled in her eyes.
‘But that’s the day after tomorrow.’ She lifted her hands to the sky in despair. ‘And there’s nothing left of the restaurant.’
‘Trust me,’ Etienne said, pulling her back against him. ‘I have an idea.’
Mia Famiglia WhatsApp group
Mamma: Everything ready for the launch?
Isabella: Hmm. Not quite. We’re having a few last-minute setbacks.
Papà: I’m sure you’ll work it out. You always do.
Isabella: Let’s hope so!
Mamma: I’m so sorry we can’t be there.
Papà: But we’ll be thinking of you.
Mamma: And we’re proud of you, darling.
Papà: So proud.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Isabella
She couldn’t stop looking at Etienne there in her flat, touching him as he sat on her sofa, his hands entwined with hers. She’d watched him help Nonna on with her coat before she went out, help Gabi lift the heavy bar cabinets, find brooms and mops for Amber, Wren and Rosie. Since hearing his story and his reasons for pushing her away, she understood the man behind the reputation. She saw Etienne as the loyal, fiercely family-loving man he was. As well as being a total sex god. And now he was going to stay the night. Or what was left of it.
‘And don’t worry,’ he said, with a half-laugh. ‘I know what day it is.’ They’d both glanced at the calendar hanging there on the kitchen wall. The one with all the red Xs on it marking off the year. The day after tomorrow was supposed to be opening day – the last day of her year’s promise to herself. ‘I’m just here to hold you.’
She considered that for a split mini second. The thought of Etienne spooning her all night, folded around her like a blanket, made her go gooey inside. But her nipples didn’t seem to understand they’d recently been in a near-death situation and were screaming for attention.
‘Maybe we could relax the rules for the night . . .’ she said, unconsciously pulling her lower lip with her teeth. His eyes glinted as he looked back at her from the calendar. He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his.
He was so close she could feel his breath on her face as he whispered, ‘We only have a couple of nights left until you’ll have kept your promise to yourself.’
‘So, no sex then?’ she said, almost sulkily, and he laughed.
‘No sex,’ he agreed. ‘I’m not going to be the one that breaks your promise. I’m going to be the one that helps you keep it.’
She could feel herself straining towards him, aching to be touched. He ran a finger down her forehead, down her nose and to her mouth. She parted her lips and took it inside, sucking on it greedily.
‘But anything else goes, right?’
He used her spare toothbrush and they cleaned their teeth, watching each other in the bathroom mirror. The strangeness of the situation bringing that half-smile to his face, his mouth irresistible even when it was frothing with foam. Damn.
