‘Whoa,’ I say, dropping my gun and holding my exposed palms up. Hell, what the fuck happened here? I don’t know what I expected, but not the one-man-down, Jake covered in blood on the ground, and his missus crazy-eyed and pointing a gun at me carnage I find.

‘Hey, I’m here to help you.’

‘Liar,’ she screams wildly. ‘I heard Mills call you and I know exactly what he said so don’t try to pretend anything else. I’m not interested in your turf war. Just get out of here so I can call an ambulance and get Jake to hospital. If you don’t leave I swear I’ll shoot.’

‘Listen, I’m not the snitch. Jake told me about it. It’s Tommy. We figured it out.’

‘So how did you know about this address? It’s not listed anywhere,’ she asks suspiciously, all the while glancing worriedly at Jake.

‘We’ve been keeping a close eye on him. When he got a mobile call earlier today, he acted so nervous, I knew something was up. So I worked him over and that’s when he told me about this place, you, and his bent fucking copper friend. I jumped in my vehicle and came straight here, tooled up and ready for fucking anything, but looks like I got here too late.’

Suddenly, she throws the gun to the floor. ‘It’s not you. You didn’t knock three times.’

She doesn’t make any sense but if she’s putting down the gun, I’m made.

‘I have to call an ambulance,’ she blurts out, panicked and trembling.

I crouch over Jake. Fuck! He is in a bad way. He is lying in a pool of blood and more is pouring out of his head and chest. We can’t wait for a fucking ambulance. He’ll die before one gets here. The closest hospital is only ten minutes away. I might not even make it then.

I grab her wrist. Her eyes swing wildly toward me.

‘Listen, we can’t wait for an ambulance. We have to take him there ourselves. Do you understand me?’

She nods quickly.

‘My car is double parked right outside. A blue—’

‘I know it,’ she cuts in impatiently.

‘Right, I’m going to carry him. I want you to run ahead and open the back doors.’

I go to the curtain and tear a long strip. I tie it around his chest and around his head. Almost instantly the cloth becomes soaked. His breathing is scarily shallow. I don’t waste any more time. I heave him off the ground. He’s a big man, and unconscious he is a dead weight, but I have lifted men up and thrown them down from a high height during fights. I heave him up with a grunt and make for the stairs. Jake’s wife has opened the car doors and has returned.

When she sees me she runs down the stairs ahead of me and holds open the door. I get him into the back of my car and while she cradles his head I run to the driver’s seat and get in.

‘Ready?’

‘Go. Hurry, please,’ she begs urgently.

I pull away and slam my foot on the accelerator. Some guy screams at me. ‘Fucking maniac.’ In ordinary circumstances I would have got out of the car, walked up to him and got him to say it to my face. He’s got Jake to thank.

Jake’s wife is crooning to him.

‘Hang in there, Jake. I never said a bad thing about you. Not to anyone. Not ever. There was never anything bad to say. And I never gave a single important secret away. I’m good for all your secrets. I’ll never talk. I’m your wife and I love you to bits. We have our whole lives to live. Don’t leave me, my love. We will survive this. You just wait and see.’

The silence that comes from him is deafening.

I glance into the rear-view mirror and tears are pouring down her face. He lies in her lap with his eyes shut, so white, so still. It doesn’t look good. This is the man who wouldn’t lie down and give up when he was in the ring with me. I feel the cold hand of real fear for him.

‘Hang in there, Jake. Oh, Jake, Jake, Jake,’ she sobs, while the blood seeps through her fingers. She looks up at me. She seems dazed and totally lost. I know her type. She’s delicate. She can snap at any moment. I’ve seen that look before.

‘His hair feels so soft and smells so good, but I can feel him slipping away. His pulse is slowing down, too. I think he’s dying, BJ,’ she tells me calmly.

Fuck me, if that isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve heard today. She must be in shock and rambling. It’s not going to be good when she zones back into reality.

I fucking nail my foot to the accelerator.

BJ gets Jake to the A & E of the closest hospital. I don’t even register what it is called. I just sit there covered in his blood as they take him away from me and load him onto a gurney. It seems to me that they are moving too slowly. I feel an irrational fury. I want to scream at them, but I don’t. Instead they are surprised to find me perfectly calm. Even I am shocked at how unmoved I am. I don’t feel anything.

‘Hurry, please,’ I urge, my voice, as cold as ice.

And they take him away from me.

Someone touches my arm. Slowly I swing my eyes upwards. A long way upwards. Ah, BJ.

‘I’ve got to go. I can’t be here when the police arrive.’

‘OK. Thank you.’

‘I’ll be around later.’

He turns to move away. I catch his arm. ‘Wait.’

He turns back, surprised.

I reach into my bra and fish out the surveillance stick. ‘Can you hold onto this for me? You’re the only one I can trust now.’

‘What is this?’

‘This is Jake’s life.’

He takes it, nods, and leaves.

Then I call my old Detective Sergeant and give him the address, briefly warning him what his men are going to find. I take a deep breath and call Shane to ask him to come. As soon as I hear his voice that strange everything-is-under-control, all-is-well cloud that had protected me from fear and panic is suddenly gone.

My heart starts racing. My chest constricts and I can’t catch my breath. Sweat starts pouring from my underarms. I feel lightheaded and faint. I am choked by a sensation that I could die right here from pure, unadulterated terror.

The terror of losing Jake.

Someone—a nurse—takes the phone from my rigid hand. Maybe she will tell Shane the name of the hospital. I become aware that other people in uniforms are running toward me. I see visions of me falling to the floor, screaming and kicking, and everyone staring curiously. My brain instructs me to tell the people who are holding me that it is Jake who needs their ministrations.

There seems to be confusion all around me.

Some rational part of my brain concedes that it is possible that I have become hysterical. In fact, I think I have just slapped a nurse. It’s not that I want to, but I can’t control my arms and legs. They flail out uncontrollably with a life of their own. Someone injects me with something.

I scream for my Jake until I am gone from my body.