Fatal

‘Again … Have another.’

Cabhan hesitated slightly, but it was enough for Salvatore to step forward, his face pulled into a frown. ‘Problem?’

‘No, of course not, I—’

‘Cabhan!’ Alexandra Russo, Salvatore’s spoilt sixteen-year-old niece, shouted loudly, breaking up Cabhan and Salvatore’s conversation as she swayed her curvaceous body down the stairs.

‘Cabhan, I want a lift home, now! I’m tired!’

Salvatore raised his eyebrows, chuckling nastily as he headed back towards the other guests with Bobby.

‘You better do as she says, Cabhan. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and that includes not giving her a lift home … We’ll talk tomorrow.’

Staring angrily at Cabhan, Alexandra drawled in the same New Jersey twang as her uncles.

‘In fact, give me the fucking keys, Cabhan. I’ll drive, and you can keep me company.’

Looking back at Alexandra, Cabhan hid his disdain whilst attempting to sound courteous.

‘Ally, I’m happy to take you home, you know I am, but it’s probably best if I drive.’

Ally licked her lips seductively before her face screwed up in annoyance. She poked Cabhan hard in his chest. ‘Don’t ever try to fucking tell me what’s best, especially in public, or I might have to go and get my uncle Sal to teach you about respect. Capito?’

Evenly, Cabhan answered, remembering the last occasion Salvatore, on Alexandra’s orders, had paid him a visit to remind him of the Russos’ definition of respect. That particular visit had landed him two weeks in the Lower Manhattan hospital. ‘Oh, I understand, Ally. You’ve made your point very clear … as you always do.’

A large smile spread across Ally’s face. ‘Then what are we waiting for, let’s go.’

As Salvatore Russo watched them drive away, he smiled to himself, because although he’d been outvoted by the rest of the Russo family on permanently disposing of Cabhan, he was sure once he’d spoken to Nico that might change. After all, Cabhan had been privy to the family business and there was no guarantee he wouldn’t start shooting his mouth off once he’d left. And the one certainty about dead men was that they couldn’t talk.

2 (#u8870ed83-f9a8-5afd-8895-465702a6007e)

Ally Russo gripped the wheel of her bright red McLaren GT – a sweet sixteen gift from her beloved uncle Sal. The wheels of the performance car gripped and burnt up the road as she took the corners of Highway 34 – Trail Ridge Road – at speed, winding up the Rockies as heavy mist began to obscure the surroundings, making it impossible to see the vast expanse of craggy mountains and aspen forests.

‘Ally, for God’s sake slow the hell down!’

Enjoying hearing the panic in Cabhan’s voice, Ally shouted back, laughing as she did so, her Jersey twang emphasising the mockery in her voice. ‘Are you scared, Cab? You a mama’s boy who can’t handle the speed? Why don’t you try and grow a pair already?’

Cabhan, keeping his eyes on what was left of the road as the visibility worsened, shook his head, the high-purity cocaine he’d snorted earlier making him edgier than normal. ‘No, I just value my life, and yours, come to think of it.’

Accelerating as she took the hairpin corner of Fairview Curve, Ally glanced across at Cabhan arrogantly as the deep roar of the supreme engine purred effortlessly into a higher gear. The force thrust the powerful car forward, causing Ally to lose grip on the steering wheel.

‘Ally!’ Cabhan yelled as he leant over, grabbing hold of the cream leather wheel, helping to regain control of the McLaren as it snaked dangerously into the sea of mist.

A slight look of fear passed over Ally’s face before she took hold of the wheel again with a laugh. Relief mixed with adrenalin pumped out of her as she exhaled. ‘That was a close one. What do they say, driving a fast car is better than sex …’ She paused before glancing across again at Cabhan, purring, ‘But I guess that all depends on who you’re having sex with. You never did accept that blow job I offered you. What do you say, Cab? How about tonight …?’

Not interested in girls the same age as his daughter, especially a spoilt brat like Ally Russo, Cabhan’s tone was hostile. ‘Just pull the fuck over, you’ll get us killed.’

Ignoring Cabhan, Ally continued to drive as the weather conditions worsened, the switchbacks on the road getting tighter with the five-hundred-foot drop, without guard rails, inches away from the screeching car’s tyres. Below the road the mountain verge dropped away quickly into nothing but air.

‘I said, pull over!’

‘Fine, spoil my fun!’

Reluctantly, Ally slowed down, when suddenly a massive impact from behind shunted the car forward, causing the McLaren to swerve, running it up onto the stony edge of the road, smashing the car’s axle along the rock-scattered terrain.

Panicking as the rear wheels began to lock, Ally screamed whilst Cabhan quickly glanced in the passenger mirror, but in the thick of the mist he couldn’t see anything.

‘Ally, you—’ He suddenly stopped, feeling the first prickle of panic as blinding giant beams of light cut through the fog and a gigantic juggernaut appeared behind them.

Another huge bang propelled the car closer to the edge. Still screaming, Ally began to cry hysterically. ‘Why aren’t they stopping, Cabhan?’

Panic swirling through him, Cabhan spoke urgently. ‘They can’t see us and won’t be able to feel the impact of the car in that massive truck. Ally, quick, you’ve got to blast the horn … Blast it!’

But as Ally sounded the horn, the juggernaut caught the back end of the car again, this time ploughing it forward, skidding the McLaren out of control. Ally fought frantically to keep hold of the steering wheel, which violently whirled through her hands as she choked on her tears.

As the McLaren bumped through the rocky terrain at the edge of the mountain, the low front spoiler ripped off as the car began to slide.

‘Ally!’ Cabhan screamed as his neck snapped forward, the front wheels hitting the edge of the precipice at well over a hundred miles an hour. The car hung suspended in the air for a moment before it crashed back down, smashing against the side of the mountain with bone-shattering force.

Further and further down the side of the mountain face the car fell, rolling and twisting, tumbling and flipping, bouncing and turning with Cabhan and Ally’s screams echoing through the darkness until finally they came to a sudden stop. The impact sounding like roaring thunder.

The inside of the car seemed to be dripping with blood. Cabhan found himself jammed up against the door. Attempting to pull himself out of the wrecked vehicle, he crawled forward, and an excruciating pain exploded within him. He cried out as a torn piece of metal was embedded deeper in his calf, tearing open his flesh.

Knowing he had to try to get help, Cabhan, with sweat and blood covering his face, used all his strength, yelling out at the pain but refusing to let it stop him as he scrambled out of the car.

Panting with exhaustion, he looked around. They were under the mist now, allowing him to see clearly. The car had landed on a wide rocky shelf, three hundred feet down from the road they’d been driving along, with the drop below them another two hundred.

Stumbling round the car with his leg oozing, Cabhan bent down to where Ally lay, her face almost obscured by cuts and blood. He whispered her name. ‘Ally, Ally, wake up! Come on, honey, wake up. It’s okay, I’ll get help. I’ll get you out of there.’

Noticing part of the car’s seat was pressing down on her chest, Cabhan took hold of Ally’s shoulders, attempting to pull her into a better position, when suddenly her head, severed by the crash, rolled towards him. He recoiled, retching and scrabbling backwards towards the edge of the sheer drop. ‘Oh shit, oh God. Please, no! Ally! Oh Christ!’

His hand shook as he quickly dragged his mobile out of his pocket and tried to focus on the numbers. He dialled 911, holding his side to halt the flow of blood, but he abruptly cut off the call before it connected. His gaze rested on the boot of the McLaren, which had torn open. Within the panels of the car, Cabhan could see several large packages of cocaine. His gaze crossed along the ground to more packages that had been scattered around. Urgently, he began to press another number. Salvatore. But another glance at Ally stopped him. There was no way he could speak to Salvatore now.

Cold, his body beginning to go into shock, Cabhan shook as he scrolled through his phone, then holding his bloodied hand against his ear he waited for his call to be answered.

‘Franny! Franny! It’s me. I need your help! I’m in trouble!’

3 (#ulink_4e9422ed-24ff-517d-8a37-f6246d333a88)

‘Cabhan, hey! How are you doing?’

‘Franny, Franny, you’ve got to listen to me!’

Smiling, Franny twirled round as she tried to get a better signal in the heat of the Spanish sun. ‘Cab, I can’t hear what you’re saying. Hold on a minute, let me go somewhere else.’

Eager to speak to Cabhan, Franny Doyle walked away from the busy market street in central Marbella looking for a quiet spot to take the call. It’d been a couple of weeks since they’d spoken – which was unusual for them – so she certainly didn’t want to have to ask him to call back later. ‘One minute.’

‘Franny, just stop, Franny!’