“You’re sure this is the place?” I look over at Jake, who nods.

“Yeah, my sources tell me he is in there right now. Come on.”

“Jake, I don’t want you to come in. I need to do this myself.” No, I don’t need his help. I want the satisfaction of taking Tony Jackson down all to myself. I can’t go as far as I want to, as I fantasized about doing, but it’ll have to be enough.

He grins. “I’m just here for the show. Don’t worry, little brother, I won’t interfere.”

The pub is quite crowded for so early in the evening, but the general mood in the place quiets when the customers get a look at us. Even if they don’t know who I am everybody knows Jake Eden. I can only imagine what they’re thinking as I scan the room looking for him. Jake told me he usually sits in the back so I focus my attention there.

Sure enough, there he sits. Like a textbook definition of a gangster. Where Jake is so suave, sophisticated, you couldn’t even imagine he was once a working gangster, Tony is rough and brutish. His fists are roughly the size of hams. I think of them making contact with Izzy’s face and it makes me feel physically ill. It’s a wonder she’s still alive. He sits in a booth with his arms stretched out on the table. A king in his castle, loving his life.

For now.

“Give a holler if you change your mind,” Jake offers as I begin to walk towards Tony.

I don’t look at anyone around me. Only him. My whole focus. He turns his head and sees me. I see a flash of something in his eyes. He is not afraid of me. Not yet. The room goes quiet as all eyes follow my progress. There isn’t even a whisper. It is clear that I must be the only man who’s ever walked in with the sheer purpose of beating the living shit out of the pub’s owner. Maybe he’s never pushed anybody as far as he’s pushed me. I stand in front of him and his men surround me. Six of them. I can take them.

“You better have come to bring Izzy back,” he says, a mean expression on his face.

I don’t answer in words. I answer with the fist that makes instant contact with his mouth, splitting his lip open over his teeth. He scrambles from the booth, cursing up a storm, while his men circle me and try to grab me.

But a voice like whiplash makes them freeze.

“Let your boss fight his own battles.”

I turn my head quickly and see that Jake has no intention of letting me fight my own battles. He is standing with about ten men around him. None of them look friendly. One of them looks downright dangerous with a scar that runs right down his face. I look into Jake’s eyes and all the friendliness and warmth I saw ever since I met him in his office have been wiped out. There, in front of me, stands that ruthless, illusive gangster I saw in the club all those years ago.

Tony stalls and looks around him. His men are watching. It’s crazy as hell, but even his own men will not defy Jake. I see Tony clench his fists with frustration. This is not the way he normally does business. His way is to send his henchmen to do his dirty work for him while he plays the big-I-am by hitting women. He already knows he can’t fight me. I took care of the three brain-dead dickheads he sent to my house last night.

“Who the hell do you think you are coming into my territory? You want to start a fucking war?” he asks Jake aggressively, blood streaming down his chin.

Jake shakes his head calmly. “Nope. This is my little brother and I’m here to keep it fair.”

He frowns. “Your brother?”

“Aye, that’s what I said,” Jake says with a nod.

“Well, your little brother needs to be taught a lesson. He took my woman.”

“She was his woman before she was yours. Christopher is his,” Jake’s voice rings out in the still space.

“Nah. Finders keepers. She’s my woman now and he can fuck off if he thinks I’m giving up what’s mine. He can have the brat though.”

“You want her. Fight for her then,” I challenge.

“I don’t fight pussies,” he sneers.

“No? That’s not what I’ve been told.”

“Fuck what you’ve heard.” He looks me up and down, a disgusted, ugly expression on his face. “I won’t fight you, and I’m not giving her up. What’re you gonna do?”

I answer with a straight powerful jab, this time on his nose. His head jerks back and the satisfying crack does me good.

“My nose,” he howls, clutching it as blood pours from between his fingers.

I make a beckoning movement with the fingers of my right hand. I’m not finished. Not by a long shot.

With a growl full of pain and humiliation, he tries to take me down with a left hook, but I see it coming a mile off and duck. Using my hunched position to my advantage, I sink three, four, five good slugs into his ribs as he reels back helplessly. Groaning he doubles over. I use his own momentum against him and shove his head further down as I bring my knee up sharp and hard. Something else cracks in his face, maybe his cheekbone and he screams like a girl. I don’t care. I wish I could break his whole fucking face.

He falls to the floor in a daze, and I kick him in the ribs, the same place I’ve already punched him. Where he hurt Izzy. He shouts to his men to help him. Not one person moves.

“You want to know who I am? I’m Christopher’s father, that’s who.” Another kick. “And Izzy’s man.” And another. “Do you understand who I am now?” Kick, kick, I slam my boot repeatedly into his midriff. Begging for mercy he rolls onto his side, away from me, and curls into a ball. I continue kicking his back, hitting his kidneys as hard as I can. Let him piss blood for a while. I’m sure he’s done worse to her.

“Enough! Enough!” he blubbers, snot and blood running down his face.

“Not such a tough man when you’re not beating up a woman, are you?” I roll him over onto his back. He cowers up at me. “Not so tough when another man uses his fists on you, huh?”

I haul him to his feet. He’s a big man, but I’m bigger, and I have all the fury and rage in me. And love. Love for her. My Izzy.

“She’s my woman,” I spit in his bloody, bruised face. “Mine, motherfucker.” He gasps for breath. “If you ever, ever come within a mile of her or my son again, I swear I’ll fucking tear you from limb to limb. Do you understand?”

He doesn’t answer, his eyes are rolling in his head. Just looks down at the fists which are holding him up.

“Answer me,” I snarl. “Oh, and you should know that I’ve already paid a visit to your father.” His good eye goes wide. “Don’t worry. I didn’t hurt him. But I did manage to convince him to let you fight your own battles on this matter. So. Let me ask you again. Do you understand that I will kill you if you ever come within a mile of Isabelle or Christopher or Izzy’s mum again? You or any of your friends?”

He takes a deep, shuddery breath before nodding his head.

“Good.” I cock my right arm back and deliver the killer blow to his jaw, shutting off his lights. He is unconscious before he hits the floor.

I look around again before brushing myself off. I walk up to Jake and we leave the pub. No one moves or says anything. As Jake and his men come out its pandemonium inside the pub.

Jake smiles at me. “For a horse-breeder that was an impressive show.”

I smile at him. “Thanks, Jake.”

“No need to thank me. We’re family.”

We walk together to the car.

“Where next?” he asks as we slide into our seats.

“Let’s go get my family,” I say with a grin.