His to Punish (The Cleaners Book 2)

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His to Punish (The Cleaners Book 2) Page 4

by Doris O'Connor


  “Who the fuck are you, Jeanette?”

  ****

  Her scalp stung, and her heart was all but ready to beat itself out of her chest with the fright she’d just had, not to mention her poor little car. Mustang’s tires must be smoking after that abrupt and painful stop. Her seat belt dug into her body where it had locked on her, and it made breathing difficult, if not nigh on impossible. She was well and truly trapped.

  Someone drove past honking their horn at them, not that the angry man who held her hair in a death grip took any notice of them. No, it might have been just the two of them on their own, because the rest of the world faded into insignificance under his intense regard. What on earth had happened to cause that change in him? One minute she was happily driving along, having a somewhat reasonable conversation with him, the next he almost killed them with this crazy ass stunt.

  She knew better than to give voice to those thoughts, however, because right now, in this moment, this Ty Mason scared the crap out of her. He looked ready to tear her apart with his bare hands, and sure enough, when she didn’t answer his question, he brought the hand not painfully buried in her hair, ‘round to her throat. Panic seized her anew as he cut off her air supply for a few precious seconds, before the pressure loosened and he smiled at her.

  A far from reassuring smile, because it didn’t reach his eyes, and his voice held a dangerous edge when he addressed her again.

  “I asked you a question, girl. Answer me.”

  Lord help her, that deep menacing growl made every nerve ending in her body tingle. This shouldn’t be a turn-on. He frightened her stiff right now, and yet, her pussy was soaked with a fresh wave of her completely inappropriate response to this man’s brooding dominance. It made no sense at all whatsoever. She was losing her fucking mind here, clearly.

  “Jeanette MacArthur, Sir. I told you that at the audition. I … ow … please.”

  The plea came out on a sob, because Ty pulled her hair so hard she had to be missing a clump of it. As abruptly as he’d done that, he let her go, and punched the roof of her poor little car instead. The force behind that move rocked the suspension, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t have to beat out a fist shaped dent out of the roof, if she lived long enough to do so, that was.

  “Stop fucking lying to me. Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m not lying, Sir, truly I’m not.”

  Her voice rang with sincerity, because she wasn’t, not about this bit anyway.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  For some reason that reply stung, and ignoring the ache in her scalp, Jeanette leaned back to loosen the seat belt. Once it unlocked and she could breathe easier, she swiveled round to glare at him.

  “Why not? What could I possibly gain from lying? I am Jeanette MacArthur, dance teacher, sometime mechanic, and down on my luck, which is why I sought employment with Huntly. I need the money, all right? I wasn’t lying. I live in a fucking tower block, okay, and I’ll never get out of that area unless I make some more money, so—”

  “Which tower block on which estate?”

  Jeanette blinked at the curt question with which he’d interrupted her.

  “Priory Court on the Densen Estate. What does it matter? I…” She jumped when Ty punched the headrest right next to her head, and leaned in until his nose almost touched hers.

  “What does it matter? Jesus, girl, I can’t make up my mind if you’re really this stupid, or a conniving bitch with her own agenda.”

  The words stung. Not as much as they should have done, because she did have her own agenda, just not whatever one Ty suspected her of.

  His black eyes searched hers, the amber swirls of fire around his irises utterly mesmerizing. Their breaths mingled, and she didn’t dare move, too caught up in this strange spell surrounding them.

  “I don’t understand,” she finally whispered, and Ty’s sigh of frustration blew his hot minty breath across her face.

  “The Denson Estate is right in the Priestly gang’s territory, girl.”

  Jeanette blinked again and frowned.

  “So?”

  Ty reared back as though she had physically struck him.

  “So?” He stared at her as though she’d grown another head, but before he could say anything, blue lights filled the interior of the car, and a police siren blipped once.

  “Shit.” Ty’s attention shifted to the police car which had pulled up behind them, and he fixed a somewhat forced smile on his face, when the uniformed traffic cop tapped on the window on Jeanette’s side.

  “Open up, Miss, and let me see your papers.”

  Jeanette hastily wound down her window, and reaching across a silent Ty fumbled in the glove box for her driver’s license and insurance papers.

  “Here, Officer, is there a problem?”

  The grey haired traffic cop scanned her papers, and said something into his radio that she couldn’t quite catch over the roaring in her ears. Ty must have done, however, because his thigh muscles tensed in her peripheral vision, and he made an effort to uncurl his hands.

  “I should ask you that question. Any particular reason why your vehicle is causing an obstruction?” He flicked a glance at a stoic looking Ty, and lowered his voice.

  “Anything I can help you with, Miss…” He glanced at her license again, before he handed it back to her with a smile. “MacArthur?”

  Ty bristled next to her, and the cop stepped back slightly.

  “Do I know you from somewhere, son?” he asked, addressing Ty.

  “I have no idea, Officer, do you?” Ty replied. “I apologize if my girlfriend’s actions caused any upset. She was avoiding a cat, and the car stalled. We’ll be on our way.”

  The cop studied Ty for what seemed like ages, but could only have been minutes before he addressed Jeannette.

  “That what happened, Miss MacArthur?”

  Not trusting her voice to not give away her agitation, Jeanette simply nodded.

  “You have your answer. Like I said we’ll be on our way now. Thank you for your concern, Officer.”

  Ty’s tone of voice sounded anything but grateful, and sure enough, the traffic cop frowned.

  “Got any papers on you, son?” he asked and Ty spread his legs and arms wide and gave a humorless laugh.

  “Does it look as though as I do? I was jogging, and Jeanette is giving me a lift home. Tore something, see.” He screwed his face up as though he was in pain, and massaged his calf.

  “Is that so?” the cop asked, and once again Jeanette was under his close scrutiny.

  Forcing a smile on her lips, she nodded.

  “I keep telling him he’s overdoing it, but will you men ever listen?”

  “Watch it, titch, I heard that. Tell her not to fuss, Officer. I’m fine, just need to rest it.”

  Ty’s grumbling answer brought a genuine smile on the copper’s face, and he nodded.

  “Very well, make sure you do. And Miss MacArthur, try not to cause an accident in future. Avoiding cats is all well and good, but not at the expense of human life.”

  The irony in those words forced a laugh from her, and she hastily restarted the engine, and drove off. It was only when they turned the corner, and she couldn’t see the police car in her rear view mirror anymore that she dared to breathe again.

  Ty’s warm hand cupped her nape, and she heard the smile in his voice.

  “Good girl, you did very well back there. Just keep on breathing now, nice and steady and concentrate on the traffic. Let’s get you to that godforsaken place you call home in one piece, shall we?”

  Jeanette gave a tight nod and slowly unfurled the white knuckled grip she had on the steering wheel.

  The closer they came to the estate and home, the more she relaxed, and Ty tensed. His mood swings were enough to give a woman whiplash, and she daren’t question him about his off behavior. His jaw was clenched so tight, she could almost hear his teeth grind together. The furtive glances he swung around as they entered
the estate made her nervous. Ty slid down into his seat as far as he was able to.

  When he pulled his phone out and fired off a series of text messages, while muttering to himself, she had to ask.

  “You never explained why living where I do is such an issue.” Her tower block loomed large in front of her, and she sighed when she spotted the gaggle of hooded youths by the bin area.

  “Damn it, they’re out early.”

  “Of course they fucking are. Park as close to the entrance as you can, will you, and when I say get out, make a run for it Whatever happens don’t stop until you’re in your flat, got that?”

  “Yes, but why?”

  “Don’t argue with me, which number are you?”

  “75, but—”

  “Hush, woman, do as you’re told.”

  The clipped command did little to soothe the army of butterflies which seemed to have taken residence in her belly. Usually the youths didn’t pay her comings and goings too much attention, bar the usual wolf whistles and crude suggestions, but this time, they jumped to attention as soon they spotted her little car. She put her foot down and swerving around them went ‘round to the back entrance.

  Screeching to a halt outside, she grabbed her bag and ran as instructed, with Ty hot on her heels.

  “Oi, fucker, we’ll have ya.”

  The shout from her back made her screech in fright, because two youths came through the door she needed to use to get in the building. One pulled a knife, and Ty swore and promptly shoved her out of the way. He disarmed the knife-wielding thug with a quick flick of his wrist and a knee shattering kick to the guy’s kneecap, which made bile rise in Jeanette’s throat. The youngster went down screaming in pain, and the other guy got a knuckleduster punch right into Ty’s kidney.

  Ty went down to his knees briefly with a grunt of pain, before he swung his fist into the youth’s groin, and hollered at Jeanette to fucking move.

  As the other gang members approached, Jeanette flew through the door, and took the back stairs at a run. She didn’t stop running until she was safely in her flat. Never had she been so grateful for the solid fire door than when someone pounded against it.

  “Open up, bitch. You can’t hide in there forever. The boss wants to see you. You wanna spread your legs, you’re fucking well gonna do it for us, cunt.”

  Chapter Four

  Ty was outnumbered seven to one, which would normally not have been the greatest problem, but he didn’t even have a knife on him, and that punch he took to the kidney still hurt like a fucking bitch. No doubt he’d be peeing blood for a few days. He’d broken that asshole’s neck, once he’d doubled over in front of him, and now stood with his back against the wall, trying his best to fend off the fuckers.

  He deflected one knife aimed at his throat, but the slicing pain in his side told him he took one anyway. A hot sticky mess trickled down his hip. Ty swore and head butted one guy, while he kicked the other away. A punch to the side of his head he hadn’t seen coming made his ears ring, and he shook his head to clear his fuzzy vision, while automatically blocking a few more punches.

  A kick to the back of his legs brought him down, and an uppercut to his chin threw his head back to connect painfully with the wall. Blood filled his mouth, and he caught the glint of a red stained knife. He put his hand up to stop that weapon from slicing his throat, and pain cut through his palm instead.

  Fuck it. He needed to get up. He was a sitting duck down here, staring at dusty boots, and he wasn’t going to fucking snuff it now. There was Jeanette for starters. No way would he let these fuckers get their filthy hands on her. Ignoring the kicks and punches aimed at him, he lunged in the air with an ear splitting roar, which earned him a second’s respite.

  The seeming leader of the gang laughed and drew his gun. The shot missed Ty’s head only because he’d ducked out of the way of another fist aimed at his chin. Even so, the heat of the bullet singed his cheekbone. Ty ducked his head and shoulder charged through the fuckers in front of him to get to the asshole with the gun. The momentum gave him the upper hand and he managed to tackle that piece of scum to the floor, while scrabbling for the gun. This guy’s goons tried to pull him off their leader, but Ty wasn’t letting go of the fucker. Throwing his head back he heard the satisfying crunch of a nose breaking, and then the gun went off. Heat shot through his belly and through the roaring in his ears, he could hear Ren holler.

  “Let’s clean this mess up, boys.”

  Ace’s trainers appeared in his vision, as around them bodies started to fly through the air, and the concrete turned crimson. It gave him a certain amount of grim satisfaction to hear the blood filled gurgles of the men who attacked him. No doubt, their cohorts were banging Jeanette’s door down even now. He hoped she had the sense to lock herself away, and the boys could get her out before the Priestly scum could get to her.

  Ace pulled him to his feet by the scruff of his neck ,and Ty swallowed a painful groan, when their resident medic clamped his large hand over Ty’s hurting side.

  “Fuck, you took a knife. Hope that bitch is worth it, man. Should have bailed the minute you knew she was a Priestly cunt.”

  Ty glared at the slightly smaller guy, and Ace flashed him a grin.

  “Watch your fucking mouth about her. Besides, we don’t leave girls at those fuckers’ mercy, you know that.”

  Ace shrugged and shoved his shoulder under Ty’s armpit when his knees buckled, and Josh grabbed his other side.

  “We need to get him to the van, man. He’s gonna pass out,” Josh grumbled.

  Ty shook his head and tried to dig his feet in, to stop his friends from pulling him away from the scene. Sirens could be heard in the distance, and he knew they had to get away, but not without his titch. He didn’t even question the possessive nature of his thought.

  “No, fuck you. Ren, flat 75, go get her for me.”

  Josh swore, while Ren kicked the lifeless form of the guy he’s just beaten into a pulp, and wiped his bloody hands down the side of his jeans.

  “There isn’t time, Ty. She’s not worth it.”

  With superhuman effort Ty shook off the arms holding him up, and somehow limped over to his longtime friend. He tripped over one of the bodies, and Ren caught him before he face-planted at the man’s boots.

  “What if it was Susie?”

  Ren swore and growled low in his throat while nodding to Alex and James.

  “Fuck, you heard him. Let’s get the girl. You, Ty, let Ace take care of you, ‘cause I swear, if you snuff it because of that piece of pussy, I’ll kill her myself.”

  Ace clamped his hand over Ty’s side again, and the intense pain meant he finally blacked out.

  ****

  Her longest kitchen knife held in front of her, Jeanette stood at the end of her tiny hallway, ready to gut anyone who stepped through her front door. At least that’s what she told herself, as she swallowed down bile and clamped a hand over her wrist to stop the knife from shaking so much it was a mere blur in her vision.

  How on earth had she ended up in the middle of a gang war? They always left her alone, so why were they banging on her door saying those vile things? It made no sense, and frightened out of her wits as she was, she couldn’t get her befuddled brain to grasp the obvious. An almighty bang shook her front door, and she screeched at the pool of dark blood that seeped through under the bottom and onto her cream carpet. When the handle turned she did scream, because that shouldn’t be possible. As though in slow motion the door opened, and Ren stepped through. His eyes widened when he saw her, and throwing all caution to the wind, Jeanette made a run toward him, knife held up high, determined to do him some harm. This was all his fault, after all.

  He’d killed her sister and now he was here to finish her off.

  Instead of shoving the knife into his gut, however, as had been her intention, Jeanette cried out in pain, as her wrist was caught in a crushing grip, and she was spun into a wall. No, hang on, not a wall, but a laughing wall of
male muscle.

  Amber eyes crinkled up at the corners, as this guy cupped her chin to study her, while someone else twisted her arms back up high against her back, until she couldn’t move.

  “Feisty little thing, isn’t she, bro?” The amused baritone at her back made her turn her head, to see who got hold of her. Slightly taller and bulkier than the guy in front of her, there was no mistaking the family resemblance. These two had to be brothers.

  The guy at her back winked at her, and despite the situation, or maybe because of it, her stomach flipped over. Jeez, was there a law that stated every Cleaner employed by Huntly had to be any woman’s wet dream?

  “She sure is. I can see why Ty wants her.”

  The mention of Ty made her struggle against them.

  “Ty, how is he?”

  “What do you care, girl?” Ren’s dark voice sent shivers of dread down her spine, especially when he took the picture of her and Myrtle off the wall and studied it with a frown. It had been taken years ago, when they were teenagers, but Ren wasn’t stupid. He would figure this out, and she was so dead.

  Sure enough, he stepped closer and holding the frame next to her head, studied her. If that was possible, his expression grew even more forbidding, and she flinched when he murmured to himself.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  The approaching sirens got louder, and Ren shook his head.

  “Take her down, boys. I’ll be there in a minute. Just gonna find out who this bitch really is.”

  He turned on his heel and disappeared into her bedroom.

  “No, you have no right, you … umph.” Her protest was cut off by the guy at her back clamping his large hand over her mouth. She bit down on the thick digits, and he swore softly, before the world tilted and she found herself flung over his brother’s shoulder.

  “No, dammit, put me down. You can’t do that. You have no right.”

  A stinging swat to her ass was her reward, and she narrowly missed banging her head against the doorframe when the man-made mountain turned abruptly. He stepped over the prone bodies of what had been two hooded youths, and Jeanette’s protest died in her throat, when she looked straight into the glassy eyes of one of her neighbors.

 

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