Back in the Game Read online

  Back in the Game

  CAZ FINLAY

  One More Chapter

  a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

  Copyright © Caz Finlay 2020

  Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

  Cover images © Shutterstock.com

  Caz Finlay asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Source ISBN: 9780008340704

  Ebook Edition © 2020 ISBN: 9780008340698

  Version: 2020-05-21

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Also by Caz Finlay

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  For my wonderful Mum, whose love of reading inspired my own. And my equally wonderful dad, John.

  And as always, for Finlay, Jude and James.

  Prologue

  The large man’s brow furrowed. ‘Fucking bastards!’ he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth as he ended the call, slamming his smartphone onto the desk in front of him.

  Liam McGuinness jumped, spilling his cup of coffee onto his new jeans. ‘For fuck’s sake, boss,’ he snapped as he leaped out of his chair. ‘These cost me three hundred quid.’

  His boss glared at him in response.

  Liam placed his cup onto the desk. ‘What’s up?’ he asked, realising the cost of his designer jeans was inconsequential to the raging man in front of him.

  ‘Our container has gone missing. That’s what’s fucking up,’ he growled.

  Liam’s mouth dropped open. ‘What? That’s the second one this month.’

  ‘I know, soft-shite.’

  ‘You know who’s behind it, don’t you?’

  His boss nodded furiously. ‘Cheeky little fucker. Who the hell does he think he is?’

  Liam snorted. ‘He’s an arrogant little prick. He’d be no one without Mummy and Daddy’s name behind him. It’s about time someone taught him what happens to little boys who think they’re big men.’

  The boss slammed his large fist onto the desk, sending Liam’s coffee cup tumbling to the floor. ‘He’s cost me near on six hundred grand. I don’t care what his name is, he’s a fucking dead man walking,’ he snarled.

  Liam smiled. It was about time they stood up to this little prick. If they were going to be the top dogs, then they had to have the balls to take out their main competition, no matter who they were. There was no room in Liverpool for all of them. When that arrogant little shit had walked onto the scene, his name alone had sent shockwaves through the Liverpool underworld. People had automatically fallen in line, as though he was the heir to the fucking throne.

  But Liam knew what he really was. A spoiled little boy who was still tied to his mummy’s apron strings and who would never be half the gangster his father was. Now that his parents were out of the way, it was the perfect time to make a move.

  Liam’s boss wasn’t from Liverpool, but he knew of the family by reputation. Between them, Grace Sumner and Nathan Conlon had practically ruled Liverpool for years. There was a time when people dared not take a shit without the okay from one of them. And now their son, Jake, had taken up their mantle, although he didn’t quite have the same clout as his parents, and in Liam’s opinion he never would. Despite Liam’s best efforts to persuade him otherwise, his boss had been too cautious to take Jake on. Liam didn’t understand why. It wasn’t as though he was against getting his hands dirty. The first job he’d taken Liam on had been to get information from a dealer who’d been involved in trying to rip him off. The lad had given up his co-conspirators before they’d laid a finger on him, but his boss had tortured him to death just for the hell of it. It sent a message. That was how he operated.

  Liam smiled as he watched his employer taking out the knuckledusters and corkscrew from his desk drawer – it meant their evening was about to get a whole lot more interesting. The boss was pissed off and some poor sod was about to feel his wrath.

  ‘What are we gonna do then?’ Liam asked.

  The big man stared at him. ‘Tonight we’re going to pay the McHughs a visit. They’re a day late paying
me and my patience has worn incredibly thin. As for our other problem, all in good time, lad. But mark my words, Jake Conlon will rue the fucking day he ever tried to mess with me.’

  Chapter 1

  Grace Sumner smiled at her sleeping daughter as she laid her down in her cot. Belle’s dark curls sprawled around her head like a halo. She looked so peaceful. Eight months old and the image of her father. So much so, that sometimes looking at her daughter’s face made Grace’s stomach contract.

  The sound of Grace’s mobile phone ringing in the next room snapped her from her quiet reflection. Hurrying out of Belle’s bedroom and into her own, she snatched the offending item from her bedside table. In her eagerness to prevent the noise from waking Belle, she’d already swiped right on the screen to answer when she noticed it was a withheld number. Probably another bloody arsehole asking about the car accident I haven’t had!

  ‘Hello?’ she snapped.

  ‘Hello, Grace.’

  She recognised the thick Mancunian drawl immediately. Her insides lurched and she contemplated hanging up without speaking another word.

  ‘Sol,’ she said instead. ‘How the hell did you get this number? And what do you want?’

  She heard his throaty laugh before he responded. ‘I’ve always loved your fire, Gracie. It’s such a shame we never got together, don’t you think?’

  No, she thought but didn’t say. Solomon Shepherd was a former business associate of hers from Manchester. He dealt in drugs and weapons mostly, which Grace had supplied him with on many occasions. She got on well enough with him, but he had an ego the size of Saturn. ‘What do you want, Sol?’ she sighed.

  ‘Look, Grace, we’ve always got on well. We do good business. That’s why I’m doing you the courtesy of phoning you about this …’

  ‘About what? Just get to the point, will you?’ She was not in the mood for his dramatics.

  ‘Okay, don’t get your fucking knickers in a twist,’ he barked. ‘Things have gone tits up since you pissed off. You need to get back home and get your fucking house in order.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. I don’t know what the fuck is going on over there in la-la-land, but it’s causing me no end of aggro. So, fucking sort it.’

  ‘Look, Sol. You know I’m out of that game now. It’s Michael you need to be speaking to.’

  ‘I know you’re out of it. That’s my fucking point. Michael Carter is too fucking stupid to know when he’s onto a good thing. He’s let everything go to shit. Someone else has taken over. I don’t know him, but from what I can gather, he’s a fucking weapon who doesn’t know his arse from his elbow. He’s losing merchandise left, right and centre, and it’s disrupting my supply chains.’

  Grace frowned. Michael Carter had once been her right-hand man. She had left her considerable empire in his capable hands. He was as hard as they came. So why had he let someone else take over? Shaking her head, she remembered that she was well out of it all now. ‘I still don’t get what any of this has to do with me, Sol.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, that. Well, that kid of yours is involved somehow as well.’

  ‘Jake?’ Grace said as she felt a sudden sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘Yeah. Playing at being a gangster. Stepped right into Daddy’s shoes. Trouble is, Daddy’s shoes are far too big for him. I’ve had the filth sniffing round me because of his fucking incompetence. Because he’s your son, I’ve let it go. But I will not do that again, Grace.’

  ‘What are you on about Sol? Jake’s not running that kind of business.’

  Sol laughed. ‘Are you kidding me? You really are out of touch, aren’t you? You’re living in cloud cuckoo land, Grace, and you need to get your head back in the game before that lad of yours ends up with a bullet in his.’

  Grace felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. ‘But Jake—’ She swallowed, struggling to talk and breathe at the same time.

  ‘But fucking nothing. He’s in way over his head. Not a fucking clue what he’s doing. There’s more to this game than running about sticking guns in people’s faces – as you well know. Look, I’m only telling you this because we’ve got history and I thought you deserved to know. Rein him in, Grace, before someone else does.’

  Grace’s head spun. What the hell was Sol on about? What the hell was Jake involved in, and why hadn’t he mentioned anything when she’d spoken to him that morning? Or any other morning? She needed answers, and fast.

  ‘Thanks for the heads up, Sol.’ She hung up the phone.

  Grace’s legs buckled beneath her. She landed on her bed in a seated position. Dear God! Jake! Her poor, sweet baby boy. What had she left him to?

  The murder of Nathan Conlon, her ex-husband and Jake’s father, had been a shock to the Liverpool underworld, throwing the cat amongst the proverbial pigeons and causing some unrest while the various factions jockeyed for position in the new world order. For Grace, it had signalled the perfect time to get away. So, that’s exactly what she’d done – moving to the sleepy village of Harewood, where the most exciting thing that ever happened was a heated debate at a parish council meeting. She’d been convinced that it would be enough to protect Jake and keep him away from the life she and his father had chosen. She’d been furious with him when he’d declared he was dropping out of university to run his father’s seedy little nightclub, The Blue Rooms. But, full of the arrogance and naiveté of a twenty-year-old boy, he’d refused to listen to a word she said. ‘Why do a business degree when I can run my own business, Mum?’ he’d said with that lovable, lopsided grin on his face.

  She’d refused to return to Liverpool with him. She couldn’t. There was Belle to think of. But she’d been a fool to believe that Jake wouldn’t get sucked into that world. After all, she and Nathan were his parents. She’d stupidly believed him when he’d promised to make The Blue Rooms into a legitimate business to be proud of. God, she’d been so bloody blind.

  So, now what?

  She had to go back, of course.

  Feeling the bile rising in her throat, she swallowed it down. How would she keep her little secret now? She couldn’t, could she? It was impossible. And when it all came out, well, all hell would break loose.

  Chapter 2

  Lifting Belle from her car seat, Grace looked up at the second-floor window of the three-storey house in Canning Street to see Marcus Holden waving at her, a smile plastered across his face. He motioned his hand to indicate he was buzzing her in.

  After carrying Belle up the two flights of stairs to Marcus’s flat, Grace placed her sleeping charge on Marcus’s large sofa, surrounded by pillows.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ Marcus said, his eyes brimming with tears as he embraced her. ‘I’m so glad you’re back.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too,’ Grace said as she hugged him. ‘Although I’m not so happy to be here,’ she said as she untangled herself from his embrace.

  ‘Well, no, I suppose not.’ He shook his head. ‘Not in the circumstances. You look shattered. How about a brew before you fill me in on everything?’

  ‘That would be great.’

  ‘You take a load off then,’ he said indicating his plush sofa. ‘And I’ll stick the kettle on.’

  Sighing, Grace took a seat near Belle. A traffic jam on the M62 meant she’d been driving for over four hours. She’d been hoping to have Belle home and tucked up in bed by eight, but instead it was after nine and she was only just arriving at Marcus’s flat to pick up the keys to her house.

  Marcus Holden was Grace’s oldest and closest friend. He’d been the manager of her pub, The Rose and Crown, before it had been burned to the ground. He was one of the few people who even knew where she lived in Harewood, and he’d visited her and Belle there at least a dozen times. He’d been looking after her house in Formby for her and had been acting as a property manager for the tenants Grace had found. How fortunate it was that they’d moved on a few weeks earlier, or Grace would have had to rent a new place herself.


  A few minutes later, Marcus came back into his living room carrying two mugs of tea.

  ‘Thanks,’ Grace said as she took the drink from him.

  ‘So, how are you, Grace?’ Marcus asked. ‘Apart from tired, that is?’

  Grace shook her head. ‘I don’t know, to be honest. Annoyed. Angry. Terrified.’

  She hadn’t told Marcus the full extent of Jake’s troubles, partly because she didn’t know yet herself, but also because Marcus had always stayed away from that side of her business and had no place in that world as far as Grace was concerned. It was one of the reasons she’d allowed him to visit her, that and the fact she adored him and missed him like crazy.

  Marcus shook his head too. ‘So what are you going to do?’

  ‘The first thing I need to do is to find out what’s been going on while I’ve been away. And then I need to speak to that lad of mine and find out what the hell he’s playing at.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Marcus sipped his tea.

  ‘On that note. Could you do me a favour?’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Would you mind staying with me for a while and looking after Belle while I sort some stuff out?’

  ‘Hmm.’ Marcus tilted his head as though considering her offer. ‘Stay in your gorgeous five-bedroomed house with a home cinema and look after the most incredible little girl in the world? Of course, I will.’ He laughed. ‘I’ll just drink this and then I’ll pack a bag.’

  ‘Thanks. You’re a legend,’ Grace smiled. She didn’t know what she’d do without him.

  Grace felt Marcus staring at her and knew what he was thinking. Apart from Jake, it was all she’d thought about too.

  ‘So what about your other little problem?’ he finally asked.

  Grace sighed. ‘I have no idea. It’s bound to come out, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ he said.

  Grace raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Don’t try and make me feel better. How the hell can I keep up the pretence now? It was different while I was in Harewood. But now that I’m back here …’

  ‘It will be difficult, but we’ll think of something,’ he said softly.

  Grace shook her head. ‘He’s going to find out, Marcus. And then the shit will really hit the fan. It’s going to be fucking awful.’