Kerry Barnes - The Hunted - A gripping crime thriller that will have you hooked

‘Fucking bad move, bitch,’ she growled.

The door slammed shut and the silence left a buzzing in Jackie’s ear. ‘Cunt,’ she mumbled to herself once more. She’d done it again, and this time she’d pissed off Tracey, her sidekick. She stared at the clump of hair on the floor and felt sick. Yet more disturbing was the threatening tone in Tracey’s voice. Holding the bottle of vodka over the sink, she attempted to pour the last of the evil liquid away, but her hands shook so violently, she just couldn’t do it. Instead, she poured it neat down her throat and swanned out to the garden to soak up the sun.

* * *

By the time Mike had got up from his bed, it was four o’clock in the afternoon. He pulled back the curtains and looked at his wife sprawled out on a sunlounger in the hot sun. He shook his head and thought about Ricky. He would be home from school any minute and would have to face a drunken mother with no cupcakes and sweet words, just drivel and sarcasm. Once he was showered and had climbed into his tracksuit, he went downstairs.

He found Ricky in the lounge, still in his uniform, and Sacha sitting there, looking all forlorn.

‘Dad!’ screeched Ricky, as he leaped from the floor and ran into his father’s arms. Sacha gave him a half-smile and stood up to make her exit.

‘I’m sorry, Mike. You know I love Ricky, don’t you?’

Mike held his son, stroking his back, as his son nestled into his neck. ‘I know, Sacha. Don’t worry, I’ll sort something. You’ve been good to me and Ricky and I won’t forget it. ’Ere, take this.’ He pulled a wad of fifties from his tracksuit bottoms. ‘Take yaself on holiday.’

Sacha looked at him open-mouthed. ‘I can’t take all that.’

Mike’s eyes softened.

‘Babe, call it compensation.’

‘Thank you, Mike.’

He winked and nodded. ‘Don’t worry, Sach. I’ll take care of Ricky. That heartless sket won’t be left alone with him, not if I can help it.’ He put Ricky back on the floor and patted his backside. ‘Go on, Ricky. You get on with your homework.’

He headed to the kitchen with Sacha on his heels. ‘I’m gonna put her in a rehab place, and if she refuses, then she can fuck off. I ain’t messing around anymore. She might be my wife, but Ricky is my son, and he comes first. It’s a mighty shame she doesn’t see it that way. Anyway, you get yourself off home and don’t be worrying.’

Sacha stared out into the garden and noticed Jackie burning up from the sun. ‘Er, do you think you should get her in? Christ, she looks like a beetroot.’

Mike chuckled. ‘Nah, let her fry. It’ll give her something else to whine about. Jesus, she’s one ugly mare. Ya know, she was a good-looking kid a few years ago, but now look at her. She’d give Jackie Stallone a run for her money.’

Sacha laughed. ‘Oh, Mike, come on. She don’t look that bad. She’s fashionably attractive.’

Mike looked away. ‘Not my thing, I’m afraid.’

Sacha felt awkward: she had her wages and there was no reason to stay. Mike smiled sweetly and showed her to the door.

* * *

After playing hide-and-seek, Mike took his son off to a select restaurant just down the road from his huge Kent pad. The staff almost stood to attention and quickly tripped over themselves to have him seated and his food served. A few customers smiled and nodded out of respect. Just as their food arrived, one of his phones rang. It was Jackie, screaming obscenities, and in among all the shouting and bitching, she never once asked if Ricky was with him. With one swift movement, he dropped the phone into the jug of water and laughed.

Ricky, with a straw in his mouth, sucking on a smoothie, looked up and smiled. ‘Was that Mummy?’

Mike would have denied it, but he’d gone past pretending Jackie was kind at heart. Even as young as Ricky was, he knew she wasn’t a good mother.

Shortly afterwards, his other phone – his business one – rang. It was Eric. ‘All right, Mike. All done and delivered.’

Mike smiled. That will teach the dirty fuckers.

* * *

It wasn’t until early the next morning that the phone rang again. This time, he didn’t smile; instead, he flared his nostrils and took a deep breath. ‘Are you fucking sure, Eric? How do you know it was the Harmans?’

Eric was pacing the floor. Maybe they’d gone too far this time; after all, they knew very little about the firm.

‘Mikey, what are we gonna do? Staffie loved that dog. I mean who does that, kills a dog, eh?’

Mike chewed the inside of his mouth. ‘Eric, it ain’t about the bleedin’ dog, you fucking muppet, it’s a statement. They’re throwing down the gauntlet after what we did to Travis.’

Eric felt uneasy. The description of the dog’s dismembered body was horrific, but then, so was Travis by the time they’d finished with him. Mike had used Travis’s own phone to take the photos of the aftermath and returned it to the man’s car. He’d then texted Harry Harman from Travis’s phone saying, photo evidence in my car . After he removed his prints from the phone, he left.

‘I don’t fucking like it, Mikey. I mean, what’s next, and, more to the point, who’s next?’

Mike was livid. ‘Now, you listen to me, ya great pussy. Get a grip. I’ll smash the fucking life out of each and every one of those cunts, if they so much as hurt a hair on anyone’s head. Call a meeting at mine. We need to make a plan. I ain’t taking this lying down.’

Eric felt sick. ‘All right. See you in an hour.’

* * *

Ricky was up early and trying to put his school uniform on, while Jackie was still in bed. The sight of his little boy engulfed in innocence, with his hair sticking up and his shoes on the wrong feet, melted Mike’s heart. Then he had a sudden sickening thought and shuddered. ‘You ain’t going to school today, buddy. You’re going on a trip with Mummy.’

Ricky looked up and smiled. ‘Are you coming, Daddy?’

Mike picked him up and hugged him. ‘Not right away, my boy. In a few days, I’ll join you.’

The sweet smile adorning Ricky’s face drooped, and Mike almost sensed the fear. But, right now, his son was safer with Jackie than … he shuddered to think.

‘Jack, get ya arse down ’ere, now!’ he screamed up the stairs.

Jackie had gone to bed with a splitting headache and her face red raw from the sun. She could hear him shouting and tried to focus, but it was all a blur. She felt an uncomfortable throbbing covering her chest and her cheeks, and the banging in her head was relentless; it was a reminder that she’d fallen asleep in the garden. She sat upright and winced with the various pains. Then, she heard him call her again.

‘All right, I’m coming!’ she screamed back. She wasn’t in the mood to drive Ricky to school. For one thing, she looked an absolute mess, and for another, all she wanted was to go back to sleep. After grabbing her satin robe from the end of the bed, she wrapped it around herself and slowly descended the stairs. With every step, she felt dizzy and had to hold the banister to stop herself from being sick on the spot.

Mike was staring at her in disgust. ‘Fucking state of you. Jesus, you look like someone’s dug you up from a grave.’

‘Bollocks, Mike.’ She gave him a death glare. ‘What’s all the screaming about, anyway?’

‘Listen, Jackie, and I mean fucking listen .’ He was narrow-eyed and deadly serious.

Jackie stopped in her tracks. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Get ya bags packed. You and Ricky are off to Spain. I want you to go to the airport and wait for the next flight. And tell no one where you’re going.’

She rubbed her eyes and tried to straighten her hair. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked again.