The text came through. All it said was:
He was a bastard was Donnie Black. A cold-hearted, dirty bastard that deserved nothing more than to suffer for everything he’d put people through in order to get to where he was at in life. It was disgusting. He was disgusting but he could disguise it well, hide behind that charming smile.
Switching off the phone and setting it down on the table after the text was sent, an equal measure of fear and exhilaration rose up and into the air. They almost felt liberated.
The door was open, an invitation to let him know this was the place to come to get his money. He’d think it would be as simple as entering, taking his cash before dishing out a bit of a beating if he felt in the mood for it, and then leaving again, before heading off to his next victim.
It was a thrill to have watched the yard go up in flames like that, so quick and easy. His trafficking base burned to the ground, one of his employees turning a blind eye in exchange for a payout. Although it had seemed the lad was already on the turn anyway. He’d had enough of Donnie’s ways, too, so it hadn’t taken much persuasion.
There were plenty of people gunning for Donnie now. The Barrhouse Firm for one. Louise. Even his own wife had had enough of his shit.
Donnie Black wasn’t going to see this coming. Not by a long shot.