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fifth glass of Jack Daniel’s, only a splash of Coke, a tic flickering in his jaw. He had a cob on but was doing his best to hide it with the inane chatter, had tried to act normal for the whole time they’d been here, but something boiled beneath the surface.

It was time to create an argument so she could leave.

She glanced at Jimmy standing by the bar. He had tonic water—she needed him sober for this, but his acting skills were brilliant, the way his knee bent every so often, him on his way to faked drunkenness. Cassie had whispered to Geoff that if Jimmy appeared off his face he was to ignore it, then she’d slipped him two hundred quid. His wink had sealed the deal.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” she asked Jason. She’d already eaten with Mam, a chicken salad, something light so she wasn’t stodged up later.

“Told you, I’m not hungry. Stop mithering.”

She laughed inside at his petulance, his inability to properly cover his true feelings, how inept he was at wearing a mask, and Mam was spot-on—he wasn’t the correct person to have as her right hand.

Time to push his buttons.

“God, what’s crawled up your arse and died? I thought this was meant to be a date, not a fucking wake.”

He folded his arms. “Got things on my mind, haven’t I.”

“Like what?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does, otherwise you wouldn’t have a face like a slapped arse. You may as well tell me, get it off your chest. A problem shared an’ all that.”

“All right, if you must know, I’m dogged off at being shunned all day.”

Shunned. What a dickhead. “I don’t need you to hold my hand all the time, thanks. I’m quite capable of asking a few questions by myself. I don’t do being joined at the hip.”

He unfolded his arms and reached for his drink—she’d been buying him doubles, and he hadn’t seemed to notice. He was so off his game it was laughable.

“What if Cheryl turned funny on you, though?” he whined.

“You’re having me on, aren’t you? Cheryl, going funny? She’s soft as shit, wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“What did she tell you?”

“She saw nowt and knows nowt.” Liar. “I believe her.”

He gulped half his JD, and she was surprised he was willing to get legless—one, he’d always given her the impression he didn’t like drinking in public, and two, they could be called out to a job any second, and being three sheets to the wind wasn’t the best way to go. Why hadn’t he questioned her about boozing it up? Any other right hand worth his salt would have gently advised against it.

He blew out a stream of air. “Whatever, I still should have been there. We’re meant to present a united front, the pair of us against them.” He said the last word with spite, as if the residents were scum. A few were, but the majority were decent folk who just wanted to get on in life.

I should have realised he wasn’t a good fit from that attitude, but Dad said—

Dad was wrong.

“It’s not about being against them, Jason, but working with them—or as much as they’ll allow us to. There are only a handful of people who want to test the boundaries—the stupid ones who don’t know a good thing when it’s right in front of them—and as you know, I intend to root them out and deal with them. No matter who they are.” Would he twig what she’d really said or think it hadn’t been aimed at him?

“You should stop looking for that man with the beard,” he mumbled.

His swift change of topic should have surprised her, but of course he’d want to plant that idea in her head while he thought she was tipsy, so she’d stop searching for him. “Oh, and why’s that?”

“He sounds dangerous. Could hurt you.”

“I can look after myself, and you’re well aware of that. I have my new weapon, no one would dare.”

“So you think.” He stuck his bottom lip out, the childish gimp.

Is he letting me know he’ll harm me? He’s implied as much before. She’d play dumb. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t have the weapon on you all the time. Not like me and my gun. And the whip’s in a bloody briefcase, which stalls you in getting it out. Precious time lost. With a gun, I can just take it from my holster and blow someone’s brains out.” He smiled, all weird and sinister, and mimed shooting a gun.

She supposed that was said so she thought he had his shit together and she didn’t, a jibe at her, and as for that grin—he liked killing, about the only thing they had in common.

Jason burbled on. “What if he comes up behind you in the dark, puts his arm across your throat, and you pass out? He could take you anywhere, and I wouldn’t be able to find you.”

Is that a part of his plan? Is he thinking of doing just that so if I’m kidnapped then returned, I rely on him more, ask him to be with me all the time? Get him to move in my flat above the garage at Mam’s to keep me safer? Not fucking likely.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere alone in the dark,” she said, “so that’s a moot point.”

“So you’ll only dump me as excess baggage in the daytime then?”

She smiled, pleased she’d riled him. “That’s really got your goat, hasn’t it, being left out today.”

“Wouldn’t it piss you off?”

“Um…no. Dad did it a lot in his last six months. There are times as right hands where you step back and trust who you work for. There are also times I don’t want you knowing everything, like he didn’t want

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