Read Nails In A Coffin (Demi Reynolds Book 1) for Free Online

from anybody. And right at that minute, he was seething with anger. Somebody had to pay for his brother’s death. It was a blemish on his reputation as an underworld boss. He couldn’t just let it slide. Somebody would need to pay dearly, and publicly at that. The city of London would need to know that Donny the Hat Harrison was no pushover. He wasn’t the type of man to turn a blind eye to something. He was the type of man to make people pay for their sins.
    It was all about respect in his world. You learned fast in his game that showing anything but respect would garner you an early ticket to the meat wagon. Before you knew it, you were brown bread, and nobody likes wholemeal.
    “I’ve decided,” Donny said under his breath.
    The slight smell of vodka from last night prickled at his senses. First his tongue and then his nose. He felt sick. Last night was a heavy night of drinking and lots of sex. It was a celebration of a good day’s work. He had finally come to some sort of arrangement with the South London crime syndicate. They were no longer at each other’s throats. Peace was shared between the two firms. But now…now his brother was dead. And it was a sign of weakness on his part if nothing came of it. If it stayed the way it was, he would be forced out. The South London crime boss would see him as a disgrace. The peace would be over, and he’d have to answer to a lot of people. They’d probably let him walk, but he’d be dead inside. Nobody would remember the good that he’d done. The work he’d put in. They’d only remember what he didn’t do. And that was avenge his brother’s death.
    “I’ve decided,” he said once again, repeating himself for no apparent reason. He was the only person in his office. He was thinking out loud.
    He reached for his phone and put the receiver to his right ear. The cord dangled across his desk, displacing some of his paperwork as he pulled the receiver nearer. He dialed the number that was on the yellow sticky note in front of him. He mouthed the first three numbers out loud. They meant something to him. He just didn’t know what. He heard the dial tone punch in and change to a ringing tone. He waited for a few seconds, and then a voice answered.
    “Hello?” the voice said.
    “Hey, I’ve decided. I want to kill her. Change of plan. Don’t shoot her. Bring her back here, and we’ll play a game.”
    The phone went dead. He put it back down, slotting the receiver in place. He sat back in his office chair and looked up at the ceiling. The wallpaper was peeling. He watched as a minuscule bit of paint fleck dropped off the ceiling and gently made its way toward him. He smiled.
    “One by one, they all peel.”

Eight
     
    The driver put his cell phone back in his pocket and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. He smiled and looked at his partner, who was sitting next to him in the passenger seat, still holding an axe.
    “Change of plans. Looks as if the boss wants us to let him do her in,” he said, taking the first left on a roundabout.
    They were planning on taking her to some layby somewhere, popping three bullets into the back of her head, and rolling her down a ditch. She wouldn’t have been found for a few days. Maybe even weeks. But plans change. And when they change, they must still respect them.
    “I’m okay with letting The Hat kill her. He’ll come up with some great way to do it. You know how he is. He’ll see a movie, usually a horror movie of some sort, and question the factual validity of the death scenes. He’s like that. All factual,” the passenger said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a pouch of rolling tobacco. He started to roll himself a cigarette, but then gauged that his partner would want one, too, so he flicked the rolled cigarette into the driver’s lap.
    “What do you think?” the driver said, momentarily craning his head toward Demi Reynolds, who was sitting in the back seat, looking pale and