His face formed a frown that was etched in pain. He shook his head. ‘Jesus, why, Dez, did you get me involved in this fucking shit? It’s fucking yours, man! It’s got nothing to do with me at all.’ He looked back at Mike. ‘That’s the first mention of any girl being involved, I assure you. So a girl got killed as well?’

Mike nodded. ‘Yeah, she was raped, and I mean brutally raped. Not only that but she had that Flakka drug shoved down her throat.’

‘You bastard, Dez!’ hollered Randy. He looked across at Woodrow. ‘And you never knew?’

Woodrow shook his head in sorrow and looked down again in shame. ‘I never knew, but I’m not surprised. The Governor doesn’t care if you’re black, white, young, or even a bird. If you get in his way, he’ll kill you, no question.’

Mike was now boiling. ‘And you all know that?’

Woodrow looked up at Mike, wondering what planet the man was on. ‘Of course. Everyone does.’

The only sound in the room was the heavy, nervous breathing as the three brothers awaited their fate.

‘Well, I wanna meet this animal, and you’re gonna inform him of the fact.’

Woodrow’s eyes widened. ‘Jesus, if you ask me to do that, you’ll be signing my own death warrant.’

Mike shook his head and tightened his jaw. ‘I don’t give a fuck, and if you value the lives of your brothers and sister, you’ll do exactly as I tell you. I want the man toe to fucking toe with me.’

‘But I don’t know how to contact him. How am I gonna get a message to him?’

Mike suddenly threw the spanner across the room, making everyone jump and Willie giggle again.

‘I don’t give a fuck how you do it. If you want your family to stay alive and well, you’ll fucking do it! Otherwise, they’ll have hessian sacks tied over their heads, and they’ll be strung up from the nearest tree.’

Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Although Brooke felt a cold chill entering the room from the open window, the paradox was that this didn’t apply to her own inner state of well-being, following the assault on her. Her mind was now determined – no longer was she continually reflecting on the past. Perhaps it was because she was away from her home – her mother and even her father. She also wondered if, somehow, it had something to do with Lance.

It was strange because even though the relationship was somewhat tenuous, she felt so very much at home in what essentially to her was a stranger’s house. She channel-surfed the wall-mounted widescreen TV and settled back into the soft leather sofa with her feet on the pouffe, ready to watch a romcom.