Deep Water by Mark Ayre (best big ereader TXT) 📕

Upon reaching the window on the house's sidewall, Abbie had crouched down and pointed her gun up towards the lock. As the blast of the shotgun reverberated around the living room and Louis burst in roaring, Abbie fired.

The lock shattered. Abbie rose, pulled the window open, and threw back the curtain.

Louis had dropped behind the armchair. His bullets had found one of Pedro's men, who now lay dead over the coffee table.

Wedged between two Mediterranean men, Kyle trembled and sobbed behind the two-person sofa on which Louis and Alex had the previous day professed for each other their love. A third Spaniard crouched behind the arm of the three-person sofa on which Alice and Tony had sat.

"That was a mistake," roared Pedro. He was next to Kyle, the furthest from Abbie of the three behind the two-person sofa. His gun was pressed to the boy's head.

Abbie climbed through the window and strode behind the trio, firing two shots as she went.

The bullets smashed into Pedro's colleague, crushing him against the sofa.

Abbie dived, switching her gun to her left hand.

Pedro's face contorted in shock then rage as his colleague died. Then Abbie was on him.

Her gun smashed his cheek while her free hand grabbed his wrist and yanked him towards the ground.

They fell. Pedro fired. Kyle screamed, but the bullet cracked the wall.

The man behind the arm of the three-person sofa spun, gun outstretched, in time to see Pedro and Abbie land in a heap. They looked to be spooning, with Pedro shielding Abbie from harm.

Abbie clasped her gun and smashed Pedro's head towards the ground. Keeping behind the mobster, she fired twice into Pedro's final employee.

Pedro was squirming as Abbie tried to keep his gun arm pressed to the carpet. An elbow smashed her stomach, knocking the wind from her.

She didn't let go. Rolling onto her back, Abbie yanked Pedro over her stomach and tossed him onto her other side.

His gun came loose, but Pedro rose before Abbie. Kicked her weapon from her hand and raised a foot to stomp her stomach.

Roaring again, Louis emerged from behind the armchair and charged across the room, gun outstretched. As Pedro's eyes widened in shock, the grieving father pulled his trigger five times.

Nothing happened.

There was a moment of stunned silence as Louis stared at his empty gun. Then Pedro shook his head with disdain.

"Pathetic."

Pedro laughed as he said it and was still laughing when Alice stepped into the room and shot him thrice in the torso and once in the head.

They watched as the Spaniard crumpled to the carpet, blood pouring from his various wounds.

"Yep," said Abbie, dragging herself up on the sofa. "I think that'll do it."

Louis ran to Kyle, pulling his younger and surviving son into his arms. Sobbing, they clung to each other on the carpet, surrounded by the dead, rocking slightly backwards and forwards.

Alice came forward to look at Pedro, as though not willing to believe he was dead until she saw it with her own eyes, despite having seen how many bullets she'd put in his torso and head.

Confirmation secured, she looked towards the shattered living room window, then to the ceiling. Torn. Abbie understood the problem.

"Go to Alex," she said. "I'll make sure Tone's alright."

Alice met Abbie's eye. "Thank you."

Abbie nodded, then caught the birthday girl's arm before she could leave.

"You need to know before you go..." Abbie paused, struggling to go on. "She's tied to the bed, naked. There was a guy in there when I arrived. I don't know what he did. I don't know how many of them..."

Abbie broke off again. There were tears in Alice's eyes, but she came to Abbie, hugged her.

"Thank you," Alice said again. Then she rushed upstairs to find her daughter.

Abbie stepped across the living room, over the legs of the dead man on the coffee table and made her way outside.

After firing the shotgun, Tony had done as asked and jumped onto his front, burying his face into the grass. Since the shooting ended, he had rolled onto his back and now lay staring at the sky.

In the distance, Abbie could hear sirens.

"It's over," said Abbie. "And we have to move out. Police'll be here soon. Even my contacts couldn't clear up this mess."

"It's not over, though, is it?" said Tony. "The worst is yet to come."

Abbie didn't know what to say. It was just true. Crossing the lawn, she offered a hand and helped Tony to his feet.

"I'm sorry for what I said in the bedroom earlier," said Tony. "I had no right to act as though you owed me anything. I don't blame you for saying what you said. You're right; I'm the son of a client to you and nothing else. I should never have let it be more in my head."

"Forget it," said Abbie. "It was my bad anyway, and whatever, we can discuss it later. Right now, we've got to get going."

She turned towards the house as the sirens forewarned the police’s proximity.

"Like you said. The worst is yet to come."

Thirty-Three

Alice stood on the spot from which both Ariana and Abbie had earlier fallen, her back to the house her husband had built, her eyes on the black sky and dark, moving ocean.

Louis and Kyle had stayed to meet the police. Locally, Louis was known to the cops. Pedro was a big fish, wanted internationally. The story was simple: Pedro had arrived and murdered Jacob. Two of his people had left to dispose of the body; the rest had remained with Kyle. Louis had come home in a fury and killed them all.

It would be hard to believe, but if Louis stuck to his story, it would fly. For the most part, the police would be glad Pedro was gone, and if a few of his cronies had died by his side, so what?

Jacob's body would be found in a couple of days. Louis wasn't happy about leaving his son in a shallow grave,