Raven

by Heather Atkinson

  Raven threw down the knife, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him while his hand continued to work its magic, her spine arching over the bonnet of the car. When Aidan produced his own knife from his jean’s pocket she didn’t flinch, watching him steadily as he used it to slit open her jumper from hem to neck. Her bra was next, the blade so sharp it easily sliced through the underwire. He let the knife drop into the grass and tore her jeans down her legs. Those eyes of his pinned her as he unfastened his zip, pulled her towards him and thrust up into her. He drove into her hard, Raven clinging onto him, the cry she unleashed when she came so loud birds took off into the air, startled from the trees.

  “You must hold a knife to my throat more often,” he panted into her neck. “That was incredible.”

  She ran her fingers down his face. “I didn’t mean it. I never want you to leave. I just wanted to hurt you.”

  “I know,” he replied, stroking her hair back off her face. “Same here.”

  They gazed at each other sadly, the row they’d just had an example of why they could only spend short amounts of time together.

  He got to his feet, gently taking her hands and helping her up.

  “It’s fortunate I always carry a change of clothes,” she said, fastening up her jeans.

  She shrugged off the tattered remnants of her jumper and bra and took a spare jumper out of the black bag while Aidan gathered up the dropped knives, replacing his in his pocket and holding hers out to her.

  “Thanks,” she said a little sheepishly, taking it from him. “I wouldn’t have cut you.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her. “We’ll do this your way and I won’t take any of your weapons without permission again. But I won’t hesitate to kill anyone who puts you in danger.”

  She nodded. “I know and I love you for it.”

  He beamed and kissed her.

  They jumped into the car and headed back towards the city.

  “So now we’ve sorted out Pitbull and his friends,” said Aidan. “Are we tackling Dexter next?”

  “Yep but he’s going to be harder to find. He keeps very quiet about where he lives. The only place I know he may be is the pub Marcus owns but we can’t hit him there, too public.”

  She glanced at him sideways, wondering if he was going to object. He opened his mouth then closed it again.

  “Very good,” she said, unable to resist a smile.

  “The things I do for you,” he sighed.

  “And I appreciate it,” she replied, patting his hand. “But we can follow him from the pub.”

  “Sounds like a plan but how will we know if he’s in there?”

  “We get someone to tell us.”

  “Who?”

  “I know just the person.”

  Barry was laid on his back in his wigwam, flicking through a porno magazine, a leery grin on his face. He jumped when his front door burst open, appalled to see Raven stalk in.

  “Didn’t think you’d see me again, did you?” she said.

  “Raven,” he smiled, getting to his feet. “Thank God you’re alive.”

  “I don’t think you mean that.”

  “I do, I really do. I was always on your side.”

  “You dobbed me in to Pitbull. They tried to kill me.”

  “But I knew they weren’t capable. I never doubted your skills.”

  She grabbed his face with one hand and squeezed. “You lying little worm.”

  “I’m not, really.” His eyes widened when Aidan stalked in. “Oh crap.”

  “That sort of sums up what you’re knee deep in,” said Aidan.

  “Pitbull and his gang have already been put in their place,” said Raven. “Unless you want to join them, you’ll do exactly what I say.”

  “And what’s that?”

  As she outlined her plan, Barry’s bowels turned to ice. “Dexter? But he’s a lunatic. If he gets wind of what I’m up to he’ll skin me alive and that is no metaphor.”

  “It’s the only way to redeem yourself. If you refuse I’ll skin you myself.”

  “I…I won’t be able to fool him.”

  “You don’t need to fool him. All you have to do is go to the pub and let me know if he’s there or not. That’s it.”

  “And if you don’t or if you betray Raven again,” said Aidan. “I will slit your throat and chop you up into tiny little pieces.”

  Barry knew this was no idle threat either. Compared to some of the things Aidan Gallagher had done, that was pretty mild.

  “I’ll do it,” he sighed. “But I can’t tonight. I’ve got…plans.”

  “Like what, having a good wank?” said Aidan, picking up the porno magazine. “I didn’t know you liked men Barry?”

  “They’re not men, they’re female bodybuilders.”

  “You sure?” said Aidan, peering at the cover.

  “Yes I’m sure,” he said, snatching it back off him. “It’s what I like.”

  “Each to their own.”

  “So when are you going to the pub?” Raven asked Barry.

  “I don’t know, I’m very busy. Probably next week.”

  “Try again,” she said, pulling the knife from her pocket.

  “Oh I forgot, I did have plans tonight but they’ve been cancelled.”

  “Excellent. What time will you be there?”

  “I don’t know. Seven maybe?” he said, looking miserable.

  She shook her head. “Dexter doesn’t normally go to the pub until after nine. If you go too early you might draw attention to yourself.”

  “But that means driving in the dark and I don’t like driving in the dark.”

  “Get a taxi then.”

  “Have you any idea how much a taxi into the city costs from here? I’m not made of money you know.”

  Aidan huffed impatiently. “You’re really getting on my nerves,” he said, drawing his own knife.

  “But I’ll make do,” he hastily added.

  “Thought you might,” said Aidan, replacing the knife in his belt.

  “Call me when it’s done,” said Raven before exiting, Aidan following.

  “You sure you don’t want to rough him up a bit?” he said as they got back in the car. “Remind him of who he’s dealing with?”

  “I think you managed that very well. And thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Following my lead.”

  “As I said, this is your show.”

  Raven was aware this was a huge thing for Aidan. He was used to working alone, to being in control at all times and for him to put his faith and his life in the hands of someone else, even his own wife, was a massive deal for him. She understood because if their situations were reversed she’d feel exactly the same way.

  CHAPTER 20

  At nine o’clock that evening Barry walked into The Limping Duck pub, forehead shiny with sweat, hands shaking.

  “What’s up with you?” said the barmaid, a big brassy blond with bright red lips.

  “I just drove here.”

  “And that worked you up into that state?”

  “I don’t like driving at night and…and I nearly ran over a badger. I just managed to miss it.”

  The barmaid took pity on him. “Drink to steady the nerves?”

  He nodded. “Give me a brandy. I’m getting a sodding taxi home.” He wished he’d just done that in the first place but he was a stingy bastard, every penny was a prisoner with him and he hadn’t wanted to fork out for one. But handing over the cash to someone who knew what they were doing behind the wheel of a car was preferable to enduring that nightmare journey twice in one day.

  “Thanks love,” he said, handing over the money with a shaking hand when she plonked his brandy on the bar before him. “Bastard badger,” he muttered before taking a sip of the warming liquid. He was so traumatised by the journey that he only now remembered he was here on Raven’s orders, to see if Dexter was here, two people who scared the life out of
him. Why had he set her up? Because he’d been convinced Pitbull and his gang would finish her off and he’d be all square again but that had gone spectacularly wrong. And her husband, who was a lunatic, was back too. Aidan Gallagher could play nice when he wanted to but he was probably the most violent man in the city, even more so than Dexter. He just hoped Raven had killed Pitbull and his gang because if she hadn’t they might blame him for the fact that they’d failed so miserably. How had he ended up getting caught between all these terrifying people? He wasn’t a violent man, he’d never even punched anyone and the prospect of running over a badger had appalled him. Barry found it odd that he didn’t want to kill a wild animal but he’d had no problem handing Raven over to a group of thugs who he’d known were going to torture and kill her.

  “Barry Carr, the enigma,” he said before downing the rest of his brandy.

  “Evening Dexter,” said the barmaid.

  Barry was glad he’d emptied his glass because his hand shook so badly he almost dropped it.

  “Pint of lager please Becky,” came that deep, sinister voice from just behind his left shoulder.

  “Coming up Dexter,” said the barmaid. She looked to Barry. “You’re still a barrel of nerves. Want another?”

  “Love one but get Dexter’s first.”

  “Wise move,” she whispered with a wink.

  To Barry’s horror, Dexter leaned on the bar beside him and actually looked at him. “Not often we see you in here Barry.”

  “I needed a stiffener,” he said. “I nearly got into a car accident and it shit me up.”

  “What accident?”

  “A badger.”

  “With that wreck you drive the badger would have come off better.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  “I’ll get that,” he said when the barmaid placed both Dexter’s pint and Barry’s brandy on the bar.

  “No need,” said Barry, desperately wanting him to go away.

  “I insist.”

  Barry knew he had no choice when Dexter gazed at him with his cold, dead eyes. “Very good of you.”

  His smile was shark-like. “I know.” Dexter picked up his pint and took a sip. “I heard you had a run-in with Pitbull and his crew.”

  “Run-in?”

  “They turned up at your campsite mob-handed. What was that about?”

  “I’m into them for some cash.”

  “Same old Barry. Never could resist the gee-gees. No wonder you ended up living in a wigwam. By all accounts, they didn’t stay very long. They seemed keen to get away.”

  “Because they stood out in such a refined area.”

  He snorted. “A campsite full of Jeremy Kyle fodder? They’d have been right at home. From what I heard they chased after someone and ran into the back of their car.”

  “I don’t know what they got up to when they left my place.”

  “Apparently they chased a car that left your campsite.”

  Barry downed his second glass of brandy, which went straight to his head. He’d never been able to drink quickly but it did bolster his courage. “Pitbull knows a lot of people.”

  “Bit of a coincidence though, especially as Pitbull’s gang was attacked by someone with a sonic device. Not many people use them. In fact, I know only one.”

  “Oh yes?” said Barry, trying to catch the barmaid’s eye, desperately wanting a refill and for someone to interrupt this incredibly awkward conversation.

  “Raven,” said Dexter with relish.

  “What about her?”

  “She was at your campsite, wasn’t she?”

  “No.”

  “Bollocks.”

  “Why would Raven visit me? The only time she pays someone a visit is to stick a needle in them or put a bullet in their brain. As you can see, I’m alive and kicking.”

  “Funny thing about life,” said Dexter. “It’s so fragile. Any second something can come along and snatch it away.”

  Barry swallowed hard. “Like badgers.”

  Dexter grinned and Barry could have sworn his teeth were pointed. “Yes, like badgers. Or something worse.”

  “Dexter,” called a voice.

  They turned to see Marcus standing in the doorway of his office. “Meeting’s started.”

  “Be right there,” he called. He looked back at Barry. “I’ll catch you later.”

  With a knowing look, Dexter picked up his pint and stalked across the bar to the office, everyone hastily getting out of his way.

  When he’d disappeared through the door, Barry rushed into the toilets, which were empty, locking himself inside a cubicle. Taking out his phone with shaking hands, he called Raven.

  “He’s here,” he whispered into the phone. “He’s in conference with Marcus.”

  “Thank you,” said a voice before the line went dead.

  What did that mean? Could he leave? Sod it, he didn’t need her permission. He was out of here.

  He flung open the door, knees going weak when he was confronted by a grinning Dexter.

  “Who was that?” he said.

  “Who was who?” said Barry, barely able to talk because his throat felt to have swollen to twice its size.

  “On the phone. Who was it?”

  “What makes you think I was on the phone?”

  “I heard you talking. You said he’s here. He’s in conference with Marcus.” Casually Dexter examined his neat nails. “You wouldn’t have been referring to me, would you?”

  “No. I wasn’t referring to anyone. The acoustics are weird in this place, you must have misheard.”

  “So if I checked your phone I wouldn’t find any record of a call, would I?”

  “I don’t even have my phone on me,” said Barry with a nervous laugh.

  “Let’s just check that shall we.”

  “Hey,” said Barry when he delved into his jacket pocket. He was punched in the face, the blow knocking him sideways when he tried to pull Dexter’s hand out of his pocket.

  “Oh dear,” said Dexter when he produced his phone. “You lied to me. That’s never good.”

  “You can’t do that,” said Barry, attempting to snatch the phone off him. He groaned when Barry smacked him in the face again.

  “Not only were you stupid enough to lie to me once Barry,” he said, studying the screen. “But you did it twice. You did make a call in the bog. Are you going to tell me who you called?”

  “Just my mum.”

  “Do you always phone your mum from pub toilets?”

  “I thought I may as well while I was sat down.”

  “Over for three Barry. It’s not looking good.”

  Dexter pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear, Barry silently praying that no one answered.

  “Yes?” said the feminine voice on the other end.

  “I thought it would be you Raven,” Dexter smiled into the phone. “I’ve got your little friend here.”

  “I have no friends.”

  “In that case, you won’t mind if I stick something sharp and pointy into him?”

  “Leave him alone. He’s nothing to do with this.”

  “He is now and that’s your fault.”

  Barry went rigid when Dexter plunged the knife through his throat, skewering him to the wall, body twitching and jerking. It happened so fast Barry didn’t have the chance to process what had happened before he expired.

  “I’m sending you a photo Raven,” Dexter hissed into the phone. “When I’ve got you spread out on my special workbench and have placed half your insides beside you in a neat pile, you’ll be begging me to do to you what I’ve just done to Barry.”

  With that he hung up, took a photo of Barry’s limp body, which was still pinned to the wall by his neck, the tongue lolling, and sent it to her phone.

  “Toilets are shut,” he snarled, kicking the door shut when someone tried to get in.

  “But I need a piss,” called a voice.

  “Use the ladies you fucking fanny,” he snapped back before gett
ing on his phone. “Marcus, I need the clean-up crew.”

  Aidan walked into the lounge carrying two mugs of tea. “What’s up?” he said when he found Raven staring sadly at her phone.

  With a sigh she held it out for him to see.

  “Jesus,” he said. “Is that Barry?”

  She nodded. “Dexter killed him in the pub of all places. He must have twigged I sent him there to spy on him.”

  “That’s reckless, even by my standards.”

  “We can’t involve anyone else in this. If we do there’s a good chance the same will happen to them. From now on, it’s just the two of us.”

  “How I always like it,” he said, placing the mugs on the coffee table, sitting beside her and wrapping her in his arms.

  Raven dumped the phone on the table screen down and nestled into him. “I’m so glad you’re here. Dexter’s going to be tougher to deal with than Pitbull and his gang.”

  “And we’ll take care of him, like we did them.”

  “Only we’ll deal with Dexter more permanently.”

  “If that’s what you want,” he said, kissing her hair. “Your rival’s gone pretty quiet.”

  “Because no one’s hiring me to do hits anymore. He’s probably hoping Pitbull or Dexter finish me off, then he doesn’t need to get his hands dirty, like a good copper,” she said bitterly.

  “After what you told me I would have thought he’d want to finish you himself.”

  “I just don’t know anymore,” she sighed, holding onto him tighter as the guilt threatened to overwhelm her about sending Barry to his death.

  CHAPTER 21

  Raven woke the next morning to find herself alone in bed. A note on Aidan’s pillow told her he’d gone out for an early-morning hike. That was a normal habit of his when he was here, he was usually up at the crack of dawn or even earlier, only needing a few hours sleep a night.

  She hauled herself out of bed, had a quick shower, dressed in her usual jeans and jumper then headed into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. Peering through the blinds, she saw the sun was just coming up over the moor. Aidan had probably already been out hiking for a good hour, exercise was one way he kept his wilder side at bay. Hiking across the Yorkshire Moors in the dark wasn’t usually recommended but would pose no problem to a man like him.