Raven

by Heather Atkinson

  Aidan looked down at Dexter. He was determined to do the worst he possibly could to this man, so he would do the best for his wife.

  CHAPTER 23

  Raven decided she deserved a treat, so she booked into a suite on the top floor of a five star hotel. The suite could only be accessed by a single lift, activated by the key card she was given, so it was completely secure.

  The first thing she did was stash one of her knives under her pillow on the huge bed and her gun in the bedside cabinet. She then took a long, hot shower, washing away the horror of the day, trying not to worry about Aidan. He could take care of himself.

  After her shower she pulled on the complimentary white fluffy robe and slippers and curled up on the bed with a brandy. It was tempting to indulge in a bit of mescaline but she needed to be thinking clearly. If she’d been high when Dexter and his friends had attacked, she would have been unable to defend herself, so that was an indulgence that was going to have to wait until this mess was over.

  To distract herself from her worries, she switched on the television, idly flicking through the channels, trying to find something to occupy her mind but she ended up staring at the screen, unseeing, going over the hideous events of the morning.

  Aidan turned up three hours later. He walked through the door looking tired, eyes dark and haunted. She leapt up to hug him.

  “Is it done?”

  He nodded, holding onto her. “It’s done. After what I did with Dexter, no one should fuck with you again.”

  She took his face in her hands. “Thank you. Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “Just tired.”

  “Let me make you feel better,” she whispered, kissing him, sliding her hands under his jumper.

  “Wait,” he said, taking her hands. “I need a shower, wash off today. I can’t touch you with these hands until I’ve done that.”

  She watched him head into the bathroom, worried by how down he looked. Whatever he’d done to Dexter must be really bad to get down someone as used to violence as him.

  “Jem, come back,” yelled Simon when his Labrador went tearing into the trees lining the edge of the park. “Jem, get back here.” He sighed when the dog failed to return. He loved Jem dearly but she was always running off and it drove him crazy. Plus he was due at work in an hour and if he was late his boss would give him the really shitty jobs to do because he was a sadistic bastard. “Jem,” he yelled, relieved to see her charge out of the treeline with something in her jaws. “What have you got there girl, a stick?”

  Simon staggered back with a cry when Jem dumped the item at his feet, her tail wagging, so pleased with the treasure she’d found.

  “It’s a fucking arm,” he cried before throwing up all over himself. Sod work and sod his sadistic boss, he was calling the police then taking the day off.

  Deirdre had opened the betting shop where she worked for the last seventeen years. Five times a week she came here to watch people throw away what little money they possessed on a race. She enjoyed celebrating with them when they won, but most of all she loved commiserating with them when they lost. Deirdre lapped up the drama of other people’s lives, mainly because her own was so dull. When people were upset they blurted everything out - about how they weren’t going to make their child support payments now they’d frittered away all their cash, or pay off the person blackmailing them over an affair or how the loan shark they were into for thousands of pounds was going to break their kneecaps. She revelled in it. Some of her customers were pretty heavy duty, so she wouldn’t dream of spreading it around but it thrilled her to the core.

  Deirdre rolled up the shutters and, as was her usual routine, bent to retrieve the post, which had been pushed through the slot in the shutter. She screamed and leapt away from the hideous fleshy thing that had spilled blood all over the crisp white envelopes.

  “What’s up with you?” frowned a passing teenager in a tracksuit, a pitbull on the end of a leash.

  Deirdre pointed to what appeared to be a severed thigh on the doorstep with one hand while pulling her mobile phone out of her coat pocket with the other.

  The teenager took one look and passed out. His pitbull stared down at him before cocking his leg on his tracksuit.

  Marcus whistled to himself as he pulled up his car around the back of his pub. Dexter had texted him that morning to let him know he had Raven firmly in his homicidal clutches. She probably wouldn’t be dead yet, he did like to have his fun but soon she would be, then he wouldn’t have to worry about her coming for him. Such a shame because she was an asset, or she had been until her rival had fucked things up for her. Now she was a liability.

  He got out of his car, locked the doors and turned to go into the pub, staggering backwards at the sight that greeted him. At the back door, which only he used as it led directly into his office, were five posts embedded into the ground, the top of each post decorated with a severed head, each one belonging to an employee of his. Horrifyingly, Dexter’s was among them. What the fuck had happened?

  Marcus stared up at the gruesome objects for a full minute as his brain frantically tried to process what was going on and failing. If Dexter’s head was here on a spike, that meant Raven was still alive.

  Panicking, he leapt through the door, slamming it shut behind him. The bitch was coming for him. It was vital he strike first.

  “What’s up boss?” said Samson, his bodyguard, who was ready and waiting for him in his office.

  “What’s up? Are you fucking serious?”

  He looked bewildered. “Well, yeah.”

  “Have you taken a look outside today?” he said, gesturing to the back door.

  “No boss. I came through the front door.”

  Marcus grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him to the door. “Then I suggest you take a fucking look,” he bellowed before shoving him through it.

  Marcus rolled his eyes when the sound of vomiting followed. “Some bodyguard you are,” he yelled. “Pull yourself together and get back in here.”

  Samson walked back inside, pale and shaky.

  “First of all, take down those heads and get rid of them.”

  “What do I do with them?” said Samson, appalled by the prospect of having to touch them.

  “Anything, I don’t care, just make sure no one finds them. Then tell everyone I’m putting a contract out on Raven.”

  “But she’s usually the one who does the contracts. Who does them now she’s not doing them?”

  “Her rival will probably like to take a shot at it.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot about him.”

  “But first things first, get rid of those bloody heads before someone sees them.”

  “But…”

  “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

  “No but…they’re horrible. Did Raven do that?”

  “She must have done, either that or her psycho brother, Damon. There’s no one else in this city with the balls to do something like that.” Marcus didn’t like it, he felt there was more to this than he knew. This wasn’t like Raven, she was understated, she didn’t like drawing attention to herself. Sticking someone’s head on a spike in a public place wasn’t her style, plus One Eye kept his son on too tight a leash to allow him to do something like that. There was someone else in the equation, he could feel it. It couldn’t be the husband, he’d vanished in Spain. With any luck he was dead.

  “Why are you still standing there?” he demanded of Samson.

  “I don’t want to touch them.”

  “Fat lot of fucking use you are, you big girl. Get Davey to help you, he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. Go now,” he bellowed in his face, causing him to rush from the room.

  Marcus sank down at his desk, feeling tired and weak, surprised to find he was rather sad Dexter was gone. They’d been best friends since they were boys and had set up this outfit together. Dexter had never wanted to be leader, all he’d ever wanted was to indulge in his depraved activities and Marcus had al
ways ensured he was kept busy with that. In turn, Dexter had made sure he was feared throughout the city, everyone was too afraid to mess with him because of what Dexter might do. Now he was gone he was left vulnerable and all those who wanted a piece of what he had might decide to take it once word of Dexter’s demise got out. He had to keep it quiet for as long as possible. The worrying thing was, where was the rest of his body?

  Raven rested her head on Aidan’s bare chest, enjoying the sound of his heartbeat slowing and his burning skin cooling. Some frantic lovemaking had soon restored his spirits and she was glad the haunted look was gone from his eyes. She didn’t mention Dexter, not wanting his spectre intruding on this special moment.

  “I could stay here forever,” she said, nuzzling into him with contentment, loving the feel of his fingers stroking her bare back.

  “Me too,” he replied, kissing her hair.

  “It’s a shame I have to go out tonight.” She cursed herself when she felt his body tense.

  “You don’t have to,” he said.

  “I do if I want to stop Jeremy.”

  “There are other ways to stop him.”

  “We know practically nothing about him.”

  “One Eye has dug up info on him.”

  “I don’t mean like that, I mean personal stuff. We find his weakness, we destroy him.”

  “And you think you’ll find his weakness by going on a date with a copper?”

  “It’s possible.”

  He rolled her onto her back. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I don’t want to go either but I can’t pass up this opportunity. It might give us the key we need to end this shit. You know I’m right,” she added when he sighed.

  “I admit, there might be a slim chance you could find something that might help us but I don’t want my wife going on a date with another man.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen.”

  “It better not, not even a kiss.”

  “Course not. You’re the only man I want to kiss,” she said, pulling him down to her.

  “Imagine how you’d feel if it was the other way around.”

  Her smile fell. “I’d kill the cow.”

  “Exactly, so you get an idea of what I want to do to your precious sergeant.”

  “It’s not his fault, he doesn’t even know I’m married.”

  “Ashamed of me?” he said, eyes flashing.

  “No, not at all. You know I like to keep my private life private. The less the police know about me the better.”

  He sighed and nodded. “You’re right.”

  “I know.” She kissed him, dragging her nails up his back, making him growl. “You’re the only man I want, the only one I love. End of story.”

  He beamed down at her, stroking her hair back off her face. “Same here.”

  “There we go then. Aidan,” she moaned as he filled her up.

  “That sergeant better not think he’s getting where I am right now,” he whispered in her ear as he moved his hips.

  “He won’t because I won’t let him.” She took his face in her hands. “Only you. For the rest of my life.”

  He smiled and kissed her, crushing her against him.

  Aidan sat on the bed, watching with disapproval as Raven prepared for her date. She wore the lilac dress with a cropped bolero jacket to hide her tattoos.

  “That dress is a bit low-cut, don’t you think?”

  She looked down at herself. “No. Any higher and it would be a polo neck.”

  “And it looks a bit short too.”

  “It’s down to my knees.”

  “That’s not low enough.”

  “It’s the only one I packed so it’ll have to do,” she said, taking out her make-up bag and sitting at the dressing table.

  “Make-up?” he exclaimed.

  She frowned at him in the mirror. “Yeah, so?”

  “Don’t you think it’s a bit much?”

  “I’m only wearing a bit of eyeshadow and some lippy.”

  “If you put on lipstick he’ll think you want him to kiss you.”

  “Now you’re being silly,” she said, returning to her task.

  “He will.”

  “I’m putting on the lipstick,” she said, applying the deep plum shade.

  Aidan folded his arms across his chest, pouting.

  She blew him a kiss in the mirror. “I promise to keep it on my lips.”

  “You’d better.”

  After running a brush through her hair she got to her feet. “Right, that’s me.”

  “You’re ready already?”

  She nodded.

  “I still don’t like this.”

  “We’ve already been through this and I’m going.”

  “I’ll drive you,” he said, getting to his feet and pulling on his jacket.

  “I can drive myself.”

  “We don’t know who else is gunning for you. I’m driving you there and I’ll drive you back.”

  “I can get a taxi.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll wait.”

  “But I don’t know how long I’ll be in there.”

  “Doesn’t matter, I can amuse myself.”

  “You’re seriously worried I’m going to get up to something with him, aren’t you?”

  “It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s him.”

  “I can handle him.”

  “I’m waiting for you Raven.”

  He was so stubborn she knew trying to change his mind was pointless. “Okay, if that’s what you want. But you let me handle it. No charging in there and punching him. You wait in the car and that’s it. Understand?”

  He nodded. “Understood.”

  “Good, then let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 24

  The ball was being held in the large conference room of a hotel in the centre of the city. Aidan pulled the car up at the kerb further down the street, so he wouldn’t be seen.

  “There he is,” said Raven, noting the nervous-looking man at the door, studying the faces of everyone who walked inside.

  “He’s waiting for you,” said Aidan, glowering at him through the windscreen.

  “I’d better go, he’s going to think I’m not coming.”

  “You don’t have to go.”

  “I do. Remember what you promised.”

  “I know, I wait here. But your rival might be in there.”

  “He’s hardly going to attack me in a roomful of police.”

  “You never know.”

  She pecked him on the lips. “I’ve got my phone. If I need you I’ll call.”

  With that she retrieved her clutch bag from the back seat and got out of the car, her husband’s eyes burning into her back as she tottered down the street on high heels towards her date.

  “Raven,” beamed Tom. “Thank God, I thought you weren’t coming.”

  She had to own he looked good. She’d never seen him out of uniform before. He was strong and well-built, about six foot, looking very smart in a dark green shirt and black trousers. His eyes were beautiful, wide and resembling melting chocolate. His dark hair was swept back off his face, highlighting them even more. In contrast his skin was the colour of ivory.

  “Sorry I’m a bit late,” she said. “I broke a heel and had to dig out another pair.”

  “You’re here now, that’s what matters.” He held his arm out to her. “Shall we?”

  Conscious of Aidan watching further up the street, she smiled and took his arm. “Yes.”

  Inside the vast room it was already busy, packed full of police officers out of uniform and their partners. When Raven received a few admiring looks, Tom beamed with pride, leading her straight to the bar.

  “What would you like to drink?” he said.

  “Orange juice please.”

  “Have something stronger. We’re here to have fun.”

  “I don’t really drink.”

  “What about just one? I’m having a pint.”

  He looked so eager she couldn�
�t refuse. “Okay, white wine and soda please.”

  “Great,” he grinned, making her smile. He really was very cute.

  While Tom ordered the drinks, she casually glanced around the room. Jeremy was nowhere in sight but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here.

  A man Raven recognised as a young PC quite new to the job stood on the other side of Tom at the bar.

  “You alright John?” Tom asked him.

  “Yeah Sarge, not so bad now.”

  “Good lad. Get a few of those down you,” he said, handing him the pint the barman placed before him and ordering himself another.

  “Thanks Sarge,” said John visibly brightening.

  “But don’t get too plastered. The Chief Constable’s here tonight. Last year someone pissed on his shoes and got stuck on the night shift for eight months.”

  “Got it Sarge,” grinned John. “No getting plastered and no pissing on the Chief Constable.”

  “Good lad. Apart from that, go for it.”

  John wandered off carrying his pint, looking much happier than before he’d spoken to Tom and Raven thought how sweet her date was. “Is he okay?”

  “We had a rough day today,” he sighed. “It was pretty gruesome.”

  “What was?”

  He glanced around to make sure no one was listening before replying. “Body parts have been found all over the city?”

  “Body parts?”

  He nodded, staring sadly into the second pint of lager the barman had given him. “We’ve found eight so far, left in different parts of the city. Fresh, he must have died today.”

  “He?”

  “We’re still waiting for DNA results but we’re confident they all belong to the same person. We haven’t found all the parts yet.”

  Eight parts of Dexter had been found and they still hadn’t got all of him yet? How many bits had Aidan diced Dexter into? “Sounds horrible.”

  “It is. We’re worried we’ve got a serial killer in the city. The local gangs have been a bit unsettled lately though, so I’m hoping it’s something to do with them and it’s a one-off.”

  “Let’s hope so. What have the gangs been up to?”