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Book online Ā«The Piggy Farmer (The Barrington Patch Book 3) Emmy Ellis (notion reading list TXT) šŸ“–Ā». Author Emmy Ellis



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had sewn it up, that lipā€”fucking hell!ā€”acting like it was the most natural thing in the world to be doing that on a freezing February night.

Like sheā€™d enjoyed it.

Jimmy would never get on her bad side.

Christ, this was a job and a half, wasnā€™t it, something he never thought heā€™d do. Babysitting a man pinned to the floor by an eight-inch nail, Jason Shepherd at that, Cassie Graftonā€™s right hand. Earlier, in The Donny, Jimmy had got Jason drunk during a lock-in and recorded a confession about taking over the patch. While Jimmy had known Cassie would go mad once she heard it, he hadnā€™t thought sheā€™d go this mad.

Then again, he should have expected it. Sheā€™d made it clear she wasnā€™t going to take shit from anyone, and sheā€™d proved that by including the one man she should have trusted the most, the one who was meant to have her back. Why did Jason think it was a good idea to take over the patch when he knew Cassie was a mental case? He must have seen her in action plenty of times since sheā€™d stepped in for Lenny, and prior to that even, with Lenny taking a load off for six months before heā€™d died. On what planet was it wise to cross her?

None in this universe.

Jimmy stared at Jason. He might feel a bit sorry for him, to be honest. Jason had got too big for his fancy shoes, so much so theyā€™d given him symbolic blisters, and maybe this punishment would teach him to get back in his place and forget the idea of ruling. Jimmy didnā€™t reckon he would, though, not really. Jason was intent on running the patch, and a shattered shin bone and fucked-up mush wouldnā€™t stop him.

Only death would.

ā€œDonā€™t fucking think about that,ā€ Jimmy warned himself.

Bloody hell, being here was driving him so crackers he was talking to himself. Someone had dropped bags of food and a telly off earlier, a bloke in black clothes, great stomping boots with thick soles, and a balaclava. The latter had shit Jimmy up, the eyes such a piercing green heā€™d know them if he saw them again. He had no clue who they belonged to and didnā€™t really need to. The least he was aware of the better. Heā€™d just do as he was told and ask no questions. Unsettling, though, that whoever it had been knew who he was now.

ā€œMaybe he had contact lenses in.ā€

Unable to stand it any longer, the pacing, the boredomā€”even hooking the telly up didnā€™t appealā€”he took his personal phone out to tap in a message on WhatsApp to Shirl, his girlfriend. Heā€™d already phoned to give her the gist of things but needed the contact for a sense of normality in this utter insanity, despite the time of nightā€”or morning, as it happened. He didnā€™t think sheā€™d be sleeping anyroad, not with the news heā€™d told her.

How their lives had changed. One minute theyā€™d both had mundane jobs, eking their wages out, minding their own business, and the next, Cassie had come round and offered them another kind of job, five hundred quid a week each, to listen, be her ā€˜earsā€™.

Amongst other stuff.

Stuff like this task now, looking after a man whoā€™d most likely be dead come the light of day. Jasonā€™s leg had bled so much, a large patch of red had soaked into the manky carpet. If he didnā€™t die from the loss, heā€™d die another way.

And Cassie would be the murderer, because Jimmy didnā€™t fancy using the gun.

He sighed and got hold of Shirl.

Jimmy: Iā€™ve been thinking. I donā€™t want you doing your shifts with You Know Who. Itā€™s not something I want you involved in.

Shirl: Wonā€™t C be upset about that? We canā€™t afford to piss her off, Jim.

Jimmy: Iā€™ll talk to her. Say youā€™re ill and Iā€™ll do all the stints. Sleep on the floor or whatever. Itā€™s not nice here. I canā€™t even cope with it, so you?

Shirl: I have to be honest, I donā€™t want to watch him. Or watch her when she comes back, doing what you said she did. I knew there was something off about her when we were at school together. She always gave me the creeps. Always scared me.

Jimmy: Nah, it was the fact sheā€™s Lennyā€™s daughter that scared you. Sheā€™s nice enough underneath it all, and I get why sheā€™s doing this, even if itā€™s loony. Her old man worked hard, and sheā€™s not going to let someone like Jason whip it away from her. But this place, itā€™s shite. He woke up but has gone back to sleep. Itā€™s like he didnā€™t know where he was or why heā€™s here.

Shirl: What do you think sheā€™s going to do with him?

Jimmy: I donā€™t even want to go there.

Shirl: Fucking hell.

Jimmy: I know. Listen, try to get some sleep. Iā€™ll sort things with C. Weā€™ll say youā€™ve come down with the flu or whatever. Sheā€™s not a complete monster, she wonā€™t expect you to work if youā€™re ill. Just stay in the flat until this is over, so it looks like youā€™re holed up in bed.

Shirl: Okay. Will you be all right?

Jimmy: Yeah. Just got to hope Iā€™m not here too long. I donā€™t think heā€™s going to last. Itā€™s the blood, see. Heā€™s still got booze in him, so when that wears offā€¦

Shirl: That legā€™s going to hurt.

Jimmy: Tell me about it. Night.

Shirl: Night xxx

Jimmy felt better now. Shirl having to use a gun on Jason didnā€™t sit well, even just threatening him with it, not for the amount of money Cassie had paid. Killing was about twenty-five grand in his book, not the five sheā€™d handed over for babysittingā€”and that had to be split between him and Shirl. No, five for watching this

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