Raven

by Heather Atkinson

  As she poured out the tea, she had the impression someone was standing behind her and she whipped round but no one was there.

  “Aidan?” she called.

  No response.

  “Aidan?” she repeated, louder. He did like to play the odd practical joke. But she didn’t think this was him, it didn’t feel right.

  Taking a knife from the butcher’s block, she headed into the lounge, peeking around the door before walking into the room. No one was there.

  “I’m getting paranoid,” she sighed.

  She turned to head back into the kitchen and almost walked into a big barrel chest, which didn’t belong to her husband. Looking up, she saw it was one of Marcus’s heavies, one of the pair she’d beaten up.

  “Payback’s a bitch, bitch,” he said, punching her.

  She dodged to one side, the blow catching her in the shoulder, which was enough to knock her off balance but he’d failed to notice the knife in her hand and she rammed it into his arm, making him bellow with pain. She kicked him backwards but before she could finish him off an arm snaked around her neck, pulling her backwards.

  Raven drove her elbow into her assailant’s ribs but it wasn’t enough to free her.

  “Hold her still,” said the one she’d stabbed, yanking the blade from his arm, blood trickling onto the floor from the wound.

  Throwing herself forward, Raven dragged the man holding her over her shoulder and he hit the floor hard. She smashed her foot into his face before he could rise, bursting his nose.

  “Jesus,” he cried, putting his hands to his face, blood pouring through his fingers.

  These men were big and hard but they hadn’t been trained like she had. They relied on brute force and the fear they inspired, lacking any sort of discernible skill.

  When the one with the knife came at her again, she turned and ran, nimbly leaping over the couch and racing out of the room and down the hallway, aiming for the door. She couldn’t lose them in this house but she could on the moor.

  The front door opened and she was appalled to see Dexter walk into her home. She skidded to a halt at the sight of the machete in his hand, just managing to avoid the heavy with the knife still chasing her. She raced into one of the spare bedrooms, locking the door behind her. The air was filled with thuds and bangs as the men attempted to break it down. Raven ran through the door connecting this room to the next bedroom, the men unaware they were linked. She and Aidan had ensured there was more than one exit out of every single room in the house, to avoid getting trapped and that precaution was serving her well because she exited that bedroom into the main bathroom.

  She hunted around for something to use as a weapon. Every weapon she had was stashed in the basement storeroom, in case she was ever searched by the police. There was no way she was going to risk leading Dexter and his men down there, they’d take the lot and she owned some pretty powerful weaponry. Instead she was going to have to make do. But with what? A safety razor? She didn’t even have any aerosols as they made her sneeze. Little did her enemies know that they didn’t need guns and knives to get the better of her. All they had to do was spray hairspray in her immediate vicinity and she would be incapacitated in seconds.

  The door was kicked open, so she sprinted into the master bedroom. Slamming the door shut behind her, she locked it and flung open the door that would take her into the hallway and towards the kitchen, ducking to avoid the large fist coming at her. Raven threw herself forward, knocking the man off-balance, which wasn’t difficult as he was still dazed from having his nose mashed into pulp and she kept on going, racing into the kitchen, pursued by the man with the knife, who darted out of one of the bedrooms after her. Fortunately she was quicker than they were and she kept on going, winding up where she’d started, in the lounge. She ran into the hallway, skidding to a halt when the front door opened and in strode a fourth man clutching a knife. How had they got past her security?

  She veered away from him but the first man she’d encountered, who still clutched her knife, emerged from one of the bedrooms. A grinning Dexter strode through the door leading into the kitchen, gripping the machete.

  “It’s been fun,” said Dexter. “I love a good chase but now it’s time to get to the best bit.” He held up the machete. “Involving this.”

  “Couldn’t take me on yourself, could you Dexter?” she said. “You had to bring these apes with you.”

  They all looked round when the man whose nose she’d busted appeared. “Look what she’s done to me,” he exclaimed. “I need to go to hospital.”

  “That can wait,” said Dexter, his gaze returning to Raven. “We’ve more important matters to deal with first.”

  “Fuck that,” said Raven, kicking out at the man blocking the front door. To her surprise he grabbed her leg and tried to punch her in the face. When she blocked the blow he shoved her to the floor.

  “I know you’ve got the best of these two before,” said Dexter, indicating the two men she’d previously beaten up. “But Rob here is as highly trained as you. You’re a slippery character Raven and we didn’t want you giving us the slip, as you did to Pitbull so many times.”

  Raven leapt to her feet and charged at the man again, making it appear as though she were going to attack from the right, when instead she veered to the left. He punched wildly, his fist sailing over her head, as she’d intended while she slammed her foot into his knee and down he went.

  She lunged for the door but he grabbed her as she went by, dragging her to the floor. As he was so much heavier than herself she was helpless to escape his grip. He hauled himself on top of her, pinning her face down to the floor.

  “Nice one Rob,” said Dexter. He looked to the first man. “Tie her hands.”

  Rob kept her pinned while the first man produced a length of rope from his jacket pocket, brandishing it with glee.

  Raven threw back her head, catching Rob on the bridge of the nose and he released her, eyes filling with water. She leapt up and ran at the first man, snatching the rope from his hands, flinging it around his neck and twisting the ends, forming a garrotte. She kicked him to his knees as his eyes bulged, hands scrabbling at the rope.

  “Back off the lot of you,” she said. “Or I’ll kill him.”

  Dexter shrugged and continued to advance on her. “Like I give a shit.”

  “I mean it,” she said, throttling the man harder.

  “So do I.”

  Rob had got himself back to his feet and was approaching her from the opposite direction to Dexter, penning her in, appearing more wary now he’d had a taste of what she could do.

  Raven yanked at the rope as hard as she could, pushing him to the verge of unconsciousness but the men continued to advance on her, except the one with the busted nose, who appeared stricken by what she was doing to his friend.

  Realising they weren’t going to stop, she released the rope and kicked the man in the back, knocking him into Rob before turning and running towards one of the bedrooms. As she rushed through the door a fist came out of nowhere and slammed into her face, knocking her backwards into the lounge.

  As she shook her head, clearing her blurred vision, the man stalked into the room and Raven recognised him as another of Marcus’s men. Three she could take, five she could not, especially when one was as well trained as herself. But Aidan was out hiking and might not be back for hours. Glancing out of the window she saw the sky was darkening, threatening rain. Or maybe not.

  “Hold her down,” said Dexter, brandishing the machete. “It’s time for me to have my fun.” Strings of drool fell from his lips down his chin, his mouth stretching itself into a wide gurn.

  She couldn’t allow them to pin her down. If she did she was dead. It was vital she keep moving.

  When Rob made a move for her, she rolled and jumped to her feet, ignoring the pounding in her head from the blow she’d received. After her time living on the streets, she’d got good at taking punches. She snatched up the heavy vase on the windows
ill, ready to use on the first person who made a move on her. She was aware they were backing her into a corner but she knew her home better than they did and she could walk through it backwards without falling over a single thing.

  “What are you waiting for?” said Dexter. “Get her.”

  “Why don’t you try doing it yourself instead of getting others to do your dirty work?” she said. “Because you’re a coward whose arse I could easily kick.”

  “I’ve never claimed to be a fighter Raven,” he said, as unaffected by insults as she was. “I’m a torturer and that I’m very good at, as you’re about to find out. Your house is perfect, isolated. No one to hear you scream as I separate each individual part from your body one by one.” As he spoke, more drool dripped from his lips, running down his chin and onto his shirt front, staining it. The man with the mashed nose regarded him with distaste. “I’m also going to skin you and take those wonderful feathers of yours as my prize.”

  Raven was painfully aware that if they managed to pin her down and if Aidan didn’t return then that would be her fate. She refused to die at the hands of these cretins and in the disgusting, agonising way Dexter envisioned. It was incredibly frustrating because there was a vast array of weaponry just below her feet but she wouldn’t reach it before they got her. Neither was she going to risk them getting their hands on it. The carnage Dexter and Marcus would inflict on the city with it didn’t bear thinking about.

  “Don’t just stand there, get her,” bellowed Dexter, spittle flying about the room.

  The third man who had punched her was the first to lunge for her and he received the vase full in the face for his trouble, blood exploding from his mouth and lips and he fell like a sack of potatoes. The vase broke into shards and Raven kept hold of the longest, sharpest bit, letting the rest drop, brandishing it like a weapon.

  “Attack her together you idiots, not one by one,” said Dexter.

  The man she’d throttled staggered to his feet, struggling to catch his breath, the one with the mashed nose hanging back behind him, reluctant to take her on again while the one she’d hit in the face flailed around on the floor, screaming and clutching his face. Only Rob was at full strength.

  He and Raven circled each other, assessing one another for weaknesses.

  “Oh I’ve had enough of this,” said Dexter. “For Christ’s sake, she’s only one woman. Get her. But don’t hurt her too much, I want my fun.”

  Rob tried to grab her but she leapt backwards, unfortunately backing up to the wall. She struck him with the shard, embedding it in his shoulder but, to her surprise, he didn’t scream. She looked from the shard sticking out of his shoulder to his face, his lips curling into a smile.

  “Did I forget to mention?” said Dexter. “Rob can’t feel pain.”

  Raven went in low, throwing herself at Rob’s legs to knock him off balance and it worked, he staggered backwards but when she tried to run past him he grabbed her hair, which she’d unfortunately left down, dragged her backwards and hit her in the stomach, doubling her up. As she fell onto all fours he twisted her right arm up her back, Raven refusing to cry out, not wanting to give Dexter the pleasure of her screams. As he dragged her upright she slammed her foot into his knee, but it didn’t make an impact.

  “Finally,” said Dexter. “At least one of you is competent.” He looked to the man she’d strangled. “Tie her up before the slippery bitch wriggles free.”

  They all froze at the sound of whistling from outside.

  “What’s that?” said Dexter.

  “Just a hiker,” replied Raven.

  Dexter rushed to the window, standing side-on so he wouldn’t be seen, eyes lighting up at the sight of the figure meandering down the path towards the house as spots of rain hit the ground. “I don’t believe it. This is too good.”

  “What is?” said Rob.

  “Aidan Gallagher.”

  “Who?”

  “Her husband. That bastard has been on my hit list for a long time.” He retreated from the window so Aidan wouldn’t see him. “Just too, too perfect,” he said, clapping his hands together with glee. “I’m going to torture them in front of each other. I’ll drive him to insanity by making him watch her being chopped up. Once she’s in bits I’ll start on him. Oh what a wonderful, glorious day.”

  Even Rob regarded him with a frown as he continued to clap his hands together and jump up and down like a child.

  “He doesn’t know we’re here,” Dexter told the man with the mashed nose and the one who’d been strangled. “Go get the bastard but don’t kill him.”

  “But that’s Aidan Gallagher,” said the one she’d strangled.

  “So?”

  “He’s one hard fucker.”

  “You’re scared,” he spat.

  “No but look at us, we’re injured.”

  Dexter held his machete out to him. “Hit him with that when he walks through the door. Not even Aidan Gallagher can stand up to a blow from a machete. Then he’ll be putty in your hands. But nothing fatal. Avoid the arteries, face and neck. Okay?”

  He gripped the machete handle with a grim smile. “Looking forward to it.”

  “No,” said Raven when the two of them marched out of the room to prepare to ambush her husband.

  “You’ll soon be reunited,” said Dexter. “Don’t worry, I’ll bury your body parts together, how’s that? I’ll even plant you in the moor. You can’t say I don’t have some compassion.”

  When she tried to scream her husband’s name in warning, Dexter wrapped his hands around her throat and squeezed, throttling away all sound.

  “I love the sound of choking even more than screaming,” he rasped, licking her cheek, Raven grimacing as he covered her face in slimy spit.

  When he released her neck she tried to scream again but all that came out was a wheezy croak. Dexter knew how to impact the human body for maximum effect, he’d made a life’s study of it.

  He turned his attention from her to the man she’d hit with the vase, who was still lying on the ground. “Get up you fucking lemon.”

  While he was distracted, Raven frantically tried to come up with a way to warn Aidan. She couldn’t shout, so she had to make some other noise. But first she had to free herself. Rob’s grip was like a vice but, like Dexter had said, she was a slippery bitch.

  Instead of trying to pull away from Rob, she pressed herself back against him, grinding her backside against his crotch. Immediately she felt his body respond. He was so surprised his grip momentarily loosened. That single second was all she needed. She planted her feet on the coffee table and pushed backwards, sending them both staggering into the couch. She landed on top of him, forcing him to release her. She jumped up, snatched up a small side table and flung it at the large picture window, shattering it.

  Rob was immediately on her, dragging her backwards, his arm around her neck but it was too late. When they looked out of the window again, Aidan had vanished.

  “You stupid bastard,” Dexter bawled at Rob. “What the fuck have you done?”

  “She tricked me.”

  “It’s not fucking hard, is it? A tin of salmon could trick you, you thick twat. Now he knows something’s going on.”

  “You look worried Dexter,” rasped Raven, her voice returning. “You’re the one who’s going to be chopped into pieces.”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  They went quiet at the sound of a shout from the direction of the front door, followed by an ominous silence.

  Dexter drew a huge knife from inside his jacket pocket. “Give her to me and go and see what’s happening,” he told Rob.

  Rob nodded and thrust Raven into Dexter’s outstretched arms, who turned her so her back was pressing against his front. He pressed the blade to her throat. They watched Rob as he peered around the corner of the door.

  “See anything?” said Dexter.

  He shook his head.

  “Take a closer look.”

  Rob crept out of the door a
nd vanished from view.

  “You’re going to die,” said Raven.

  “Shut it you fucking witch,” Dexter hissed in her ear. “No one takes my fun from me.” He pressed the tip of the knife against the artery in the left side of her neck. “I could kill you right now and your precious husband wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

  “You could but then you wouldn’t have any bargaining chip for when he inevitably gets here and I know you’re not that stupid.”

  He huffed out an angry breath, telling her she was right.

  “There you are,” said Dexter when Rob walked back into the room, relief in his voice. “Well?”

  Rob opened his mouth to speak, a thick mess of blood spilling over his lips. He garbled something inarticulate before falling face down on the floor, revealing Dexter’s machete embedded in his back.

  Raven smiled when Aidan swept into the room holding a gun, the left side of his face splattered with blood. His eyes bulged when he saw the knife to his wife’s throat.

  “Let her go,” he said, aiming the gun at Dexter’s head.

  CHAPTER 22

  “Put the gun down or I’ll slit her throat,” countered Dexter. His lips twisted into his trademark gurn. “So the famous Aidan Gallagher does have a weakness after all - his stupid bitch of a wife.”

  Aidan’s eyes flicked to Raven. “You going to take that babe?”

  “No,” she replied.

  She grabbed Dexter’s hand and twisted, pulling the blade away from her throat while elbowing him in the face. As he staggered backwards with a cry she turned and kicked him in the chest and he fell back onto the floor.

  Before he could rise, Aidan shot him in the right arm, forcing him to drop the knife. When he reached into his jacket pocket with his left hand, he shot him in that arm too.

  Throwing down the gun, Aidan leapt on him with a bellow of rage, repeatedly slamming his fist into his face, bouncing his head off the floor.