Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Butler Collection: The Trap, Payback, The Wronged. Kimberley Chambers

Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Butler Collection: The Trap, Payback, The Wronged - Kimberley  Chambers


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Butler doesn’t have cancer at all.’

      Amazed that his father had predicted exactly what would happen, Roy knew Albie was telling the truth for once and dashed towards Colleen’s parents. ‘Rosa, Eugene, I need to ask you something important. Did my father start telling you an awful story about me earlier, then backtrack on it?’

      Eugene looked at his wife, then glared at Vinny. This was turning out to be some engagement party all right. ‘Yes, your dad did tell us some pretty harrowing things, but he then said he was making them up, and that it was something to do with your brother Vinny. However, I think you and I need to have a little chat tomorrow, Roy. There are certain things I am very concerned about.’

      ‘What’s going on, Roy?’ Colleen shrieked, when Roy darted towards the stage like a madman.

      After sending Denise packing with a flea in her ear, Queenie was now faced with crisis number two. ‘Where is the old bastard? I’ll kill him,’ she seethed, looking around for Albie.

      ‘Told you not to trust him, didn’t I? Ate like a fucking horse when he turned up at yours and drank like a bleedin’ fish. Cancer, my arse,’ Vivian spat, staring at the stage. Were her eyes deceiving her, or were Vinny and Roy having a massive barney?

      ‘Aw, my gawd! It’s all going off. I’ll get Vinny and Roy outside, and you tell your Lenny to play some more music and just act like nothing’s happened. Whatever will that girl’s parents think?’ Queenie panted, dragging her sister towards the stage.

      When Lenny put on Bill Haley’s ‘Shake, Rattle and Roll’ it seemed quite appropriate as Roy and Vinny were now rolling around the dancefloor trying to smash one another’s face in. Furious that her sons had embarrassed her in such a way, especially in front of Colleen’s family, Queenie leapt on top of them and punched both very firmly in the side of their heads. ‘Take this outside, before I maim the pair of you,’ she yelled. It was extremely difficult to make herself heard over Bill Haley.

      Never one to disobey his mother, Vinny was the first to leap up. ‘This ain’t my fault. It’s his. He’s pissed and he’s delusional,’ Vinny said, pointing at Roy.

      ‘Can I just say something?’ Ahmed asked.

      ‘No you bastard-well can’t! This is family business,’ Queenie roared.

      ‘You are one evil cunt, Vinny, and you’ve gone too far this time,’ Roy spat, trying to lunge at his brother again.

      ‘Get outside now, the pair of ya,’ Queenie ordered for the second time. It was Vinny who seemed the more drunk to her. He was the one with the glazed expression in his eyes, not Roy.

      When Lenny played The Hollies’ ‘He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother’ and dedicated it to his two cousins who liked to mess about but loved one another really, Queenie cringed with humiliation as she followed Roy and Vinny outside the club. She had told Vivian to tell Lenny to try and keep things normal, not make a shark out of a goldfish. ‘Right, do yous pair want to tell me what the bleedin’ hell is going on?’ Queenie yelled, as she witnessed her two boys throwing punches at one another yet again.

      ‘Roy, stop it,’ Colleen screamed. Knowing that something was seriously wrong, she had followed her fiancé outside too.

      No more than twenty yards away, Johnny Preston cursed his luck. He had only been slightly inebriated earlier when he’d almost got hit by that car, but now as he was trying to focus, he seemed to be suffering from double vision. He could see two of Queenie and two of Vinny and Roy. Knowing it was now or never, Johnny closed one eye to help him focus more clearly. He then pointed the gun at Vinny. ‘Die, you bastard,’ he mumbled, as he bravely put his finger on the trigger.

      A loud bang, Vinny dropping to the ground, and a deathly scream was the last that Johnny saw and heard before racing away from the scene of the crime. Finally, he had got revenge for the death of his best pal and it didn’t just feel good, it felt fucking terrific.

      CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

      ‘Ring an ambulance. Ring a fucking ambulance,’ Vinny shouted at his doormen.

      With her smart cream suit covered with splashes of Roy’s blood, Queenie knelt down next to him. ‘Don’t you dare die on me. Don’t you dare, Roy Butler,’ she sobbed. There was a gaping hole in the side of her son’s head, and he was as still as a statue.

      Realizing that her fiancé had been shot, Colleen was bordering on hysterical. ‘Don’t touch him. Leave him alone. You’re not meant to move him,’ she screamed.

      Vinny began kicking and punching a nearby wall. ‘I will fucking kill whoever has done this. I’ll torture the fucking cunt with my bare hands.’

      When a tearful Albie pushed his way through the crowd to kneel down next to Roy, Queenie began hitting him. ‘This is all your fault, you lying old bastard. Get away from him. Get away from all of us,’ she screamed, her face contorted with pain and anger.

      Lenny was screaming blue murder, so Vivian led him back inside the club and asked Michael’s mate Kevin to look after him for her.

      Colleen’s family were in complete shock and were doing their best to calm down their heartbroken daughter.

      ‘Is he alive? Is my baby still alive?’ Queenie wept, when the ambulance crew pushed their way through the onlookers to attend to Roy.

      Realizing how serious Roy’s injuries were, the ambulance men answered no questions and instead set to work on trying to save Roy’s life and get him to hospital as quickly as possible.

      ‘Brenda, you and Dean take Lenny and Little Vinny home and wait there with them. Tell Michael what has happened, and tell him to get his arse straight up the London. I’ll stay with your mum,’ Vivian ordered her niece.

      Ahmed was trying to calm Vinny down when the police turned up and started asking questions. ‘Do not say anything you might regret, my friend.’

      Vinny’s head was all over the place. He just knew that the bullet had been meant for him, and was trying to work out who was behind the shooting. If he had to take a wild guess, he would say there was a good chance it was something to do with Kenny Jackson’s son, Bobby. Vinny had had many run-ins with Kenny over the years, including the one at his mother’s birthday party when Vinny had put him in hospital. Kenny had got too cocky for his own good a year or so back, and courtesy of Ahmed, had ended up in a cement mixer. Not one bone or tooth of Kenny Jackson had ever been traced, but there had been a lot of speculation over his disappearance and even though he had a rock-solid alibi on the day that Kenny went missing, the finger of suspicion had still been pointed Vinny’s way. He had even been questioned by the Old Bill. Bobby Jackson was a mouthy little shit just like his father had been, and it wouldn’t surprise Vinny one bit if it was him who had pulled that trigger.

      ‘Look, lads, no disrespect, but I ain’t in the mood to even think straight, let alone answer any questions right now. My brother has just had his brains blasted out, if you failed to notice, and my priority is to get to the hospital to be with my family. Ain’t any of yous cunts got a heart?’ Vinny spat at the young PC.

      Ahmed glared at the police, put an arm around Vinny’s shoulder and led him away. ‘Come on, let’s go. Pete and Paul will stay at the club until we get back. We need to go to the hospital.’

      Old Sidney Palmer had just picked his wife up from her regular Monday-night jaunt at the bingo hall when he had driven past the Butlers’ nightclub and heard a loud bang that sounded like a gunshot. He had seen the motorbike race away, and being the good citizen that he was, Sidney had decided to give chase in his Ford Cortina.

      Dorothy Palmer had begged her husband to stop at a phonebox, ring the police, and give them the registration number, but Sidney being a stubborn old mule had ignored her wishes, carried on chasing the bloody bike, and now the rider had just hit the car in front, flown off his bike, and was lying in a crumpled heap in the middle of the A13. ‘If we’re up on a murder charge I will brain


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