Mr. Rata turned his hard stare on the man. “Don’t act indignant that I’m not spieling whatever cock and bull you wanna hear to prosecute the paedo. Yeah, she deserves to be punished, but don’t fuckin’—”
The judge cut him off, “Language, Mr. Rata.”
Dante’s father’s head whipped around to her, giving the woman a glare. “Forgive me, your royal highness, for not having a stick up my fuckin’ arse. It’s my boy we’re talkin’ ’bout here, not you, so excuse me for throwing in a few fuck yous.”
The court broke out in shouts, obviously some of Mr. Rata’s mates having managed to get inside. One of them yelled out, “You tell her, babe!”
“I’m not your fuckin’ babe!” Mr. Rata boomed, glaring at whoever had said it, the voice sounding male. “And I’ve had enough of this.” He turned his glare on the prosecutor. “You lot pulled me away from my son’s bedside for this shite. So get fucked if ya don’t like what I say.”
“Mr. Rata—”
He cut the judge off, “I’ve said my piece, now lemme be with my son. He’s in a fuckin’ coma.”
She went to say something else, looking like it was a retort—or a punishment, because her expression was fuming, but instead waved a hand at him. “You’re lucky I haven’t—”
“Yeah, fuckin’ yeah, contempt of court, whatever. I’m gone.”
He got down from the stand and headed down the aisle. A gorgeous leather-clad man jumped up from his seat and ran after him. A second later it clicked who he was.
Jasper Rakete’s uncle. The gang member who owned the house that Dante had broken into.
Mr. Rata snapped at Jasper’s uncle to fuck off, then disappeared out the door. Two women who looked a lot like Mr. Rata followed them out.
The prosecutor cleared his throat. “I will call my next witness. A Markus Hatton.”
I stiffened at the mention of my husband. But despite splitting up under bad circumstances, he looked pained taking the stand against me. His pained expression grew when the prosecutor started asking incriminating questions.
“Clara changed after she started working at Wera High,” Markus replied, his blond hair longer than normal, the ends curling up just above his shoulders. Like Principal Sao, he looked tired. But instead of aging him, the changes made him look younger than his twenty-four years, the lost look in his blue eyes giving him an aura of vulnerability. It upset me to see him this way, Markus not deserving any of this. If anything, he was the true victim in what had happened, my lies and deceit having shattered him. I just hoped he moved on from this, finding someone who deserved him. Someone who loved him unconditionally.
Markus shook his head, seeming to wrestle with what he was going to say next. “I thought she was just stressed at first, then after a while I started worrying she was losing interest in me.”
“What did your wife do to make you think that?” the prosecutor asked.
“She grew distant, didn’t want to do intimate things like she used to. I wanted to ask her why, but I was stressed over my own job and still reeling over the loss of my father. I didn’t want to cause more trouble at home, especially since I was afraid she was going to leave me if I brought it up. But I eventually confronted her, unable to take it anymore. She essentially lied to me, keeping her affair a secret. We started to get along better, but I guess I was just a fool, believing what I wanted to believe. I probably would still believe it if it wasn’t for Dante Rata’s uncle showing up on my doorstep.”
“Which uncle is that?”
“A man called Hemi Rakete. I heard he was killed in the Clevedon massacre.”
“And what did he say?”
“That my wife was having an affair with his fifteen-year-old nephew. That he’d tried to get her to stop, but she’d refused. So I confronted her, Clara pretty much confirming what he’d said.”
“So, your wife admitted to you that she was having an affair with the victim?”
“Yes. She said she loved him.” He gripped onto the stand, his blue eyes betraying his hurt.
“And what did you say in reply?”
Markus looked over at me. “That she couldn’t love him if she let him take the fall for the kiss. I demanded that she tell the principal the truth. She resisted at first, but...” He exhaled. “She rang him, admitting to it.”
“So, she wasn’t going to phone the principal until you made her?”
“At first, but what I said about her not loving the boy seemed to have an effect on her, because she phoned him right after that.”
“What happened next?”
Markus looked back at the prosecutor. “I left her. I haven’t seen her until today. I heard about the accident, phoned her father to check that she was all right. I wish her no ill harm, but what she did with this boy... I can’t forgive her for that, and I don’t think she wants my forgiveness either. She might love this boy, but she doesn’t love me. I want to move on. And for her to be out of my life for good. Please don’t call me to the stand again.”
“I won’t. You’ve answered all my questions,” the prosecutor replied. He nodded at the judge, then went back to his seat.
My lawyer rose to his feet, ready to question Markus. I placed a hand on his arm and shook my head. “Leave him.”
My lawyer frowned down at me. “I need to ask—”
“I’ve put him through enough. Don’t put him through more. What he said is true. Let him go.”
My lawyer looked like he wanted to argue with me, but instead turned to the judge and said, “I have no questions for this witness, your Honour.”
As Markus got down from the stand, he gave me one last look, then left my life forever. I didn’t see him in the courtroom again, didn’t see him when the jury convicted me of multiple crimes, guilty the verdict to all the charges except for the abduction one. I received five years with the possibility of parole at three, which left me standing in the courtroom stunned. My father cried out to me, but I was forced away. Forced into a van. Driven to prison, not knowing whether I would see Dante ever again.
17
Tane
I placed Hemi’s collection of porn into the box, smiling at a few of the titles. Hemi had been one warped bastard, but I’d loved him dearly, still loved him. My smile dropped, a deep sadness shrouding me. He’d been dead for almost four months now, the massive hole he’d left behind something no one else could ever fill. I’d lost my best mate that day the Devil’s Crew had tried to destroy my club, lost a brother, lost another part of my heart, a massive chunk of my soul. I would never get over his death, the wound forever festering, yet I still had to move forward. Not for me, because I didn’t give a shite about myself, but for the ones that Hemi had left behind.
Killer dropped some car magazines on top of the box of porn, his gaze going to Jasper. The boy was pulling out his father’s clothes from the wardrobe, tears streaming down his face. He’d lost so much weight. He no longer resembled the fat, loudmouthed boy I once knew. He was slim, if not a touch skinny, while his eyes were haunted, Jasper internalising everything. The fight had gone out of him. He rarely spoke, and when he did it was usually a whisper. The only time I heard him shout was in his dreams, nightmares plaguing him.
I rose up from the floor and went to him, placing a hand on the poor kid’s shoulder. “How ’bout you go lie down? Me and Killer can finish up.”
He dropped his head. “Did Phelia testify against Mrs. Hatton?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
He looked up at me, his tears turning his hazel eyes translucent. “She wuz the one who dobbed me into the DC. A girl who’s friends with Dante told me the cops found out that Phelia lied to Jonah ’bout me killing the McDonalds.”
I jerked my head back. “What? Why the fuck wuzn’t I told this sooner?”
He turned away from me, his soft “Sorry” breaking my heart.
I swore and pulled him to me. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I wuz just surprised.”
“But I did do it,” he said, so soft I almost didn’t hear.
“Do what?”
“Kill the McDonalds.”
I let go of him. “Eh? But you just said that Phelia lied.”
“Is it still a lie if she doesn’t know it’s true?”
“So, you did kill them?”
He nodded. “My dad’s dead cos of me.”
He turned and ran for the door. Killer went to go after him, but I grabbed his wrist, yanking him back.
“Let him go,” I said. “He needs space.”
A door slammed, Jasper going to his room.
Killer pulled free, his expression furious. “That bitch needs to die,” he snarled.
I nodded, Phelia now the walking dead. “I’ll do it.”
“No, you will bring her back for Jasper to kill.”
I shook my head. “Jasper’s already been through enough.”
Killer indicated to the door. “That’s why he needs to take her out. He needs to move on, to see that she’s responsible for gettin’ his dad killed, not him.”
I exhaled, knowing that wasn’t completely true, but fuck! Jasper may have cocked the DC gun, but that fucking little bitch had pointed it Hemi’s way.
“I agree the bitch needs to pay,” I said, “but I don’t think Jasper will ever forgive himself. Cos he’s right. He is responsible. It wuz a fuckin’ stupid thing for him to take out Jonah’s son and ex. He had to know there would be repercussions.”
“I don’t care!” Killer yelled. “What led the DC to our door, to killing my brother, wuz that fuckin’ bitch. And what ’bout all the others who died cos she ratted Jasper out to Jonah? You can’t tell me she wouldn’t have known what that psycho would’ve done with that piece of info? And what ’bout Dante? The DC went after him too, even though it wuz proven he had nuthin’ to do with the murders. What did she say ’bout Dante? Did she lie through her teeth cos he rejected her for this teacher? Gettin’ back at him by sicking the DC dogs on him and his best mate? On his club?”
I scowled, what Killer was saying making sense. Phelia had been a nasty bitch up on the stand, so bitter about Mrs. Hatton stealing Dante off her. Although there was no stealing involved, because Dante was never hers to have.
Killer pointed a finger at me. “You will get that bitch and you will bring her to Jasper. I’m gonna make that boy see it wuz her, not him that got his dad killed. Then if he can’t kill her, I will.”
“Like hell you will. You don’t know what it’s like to kill people. They don’t just die, a piece of your soul dies with them. No, I’ll do it. I’ve killed so many I don’t have a soul left to worry ’bout.”
He laughed his crazy laugh, though this time it wasn’t happy. “What makes you think I haven’t killed people?”
I frowned, not expecting to hear that. “Who did’ja kill?”
He took a step closer to me. “You wanna know why the crew can’t find Ngaire?” he whispered, the mention of his sister sending chills down my arms.
I stared at him, shocked by what he was hinting at. “You wouldn’t top your own sister.”
“You wanna bet?”
“But our sources say she’s in Australia.”
His face hardened. “I asked an Aussie mate to spread rumours ’bout her bein’ there. I don’t want the club entangled in family matters or for Jasper to find out what happened to his auntie.”
“When did’ja find her? And why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner?”
He dropped his gaze for a moment, a flash of pain pulling at his expression. “It wuz hard dealing with what happened, acknowledging that I killed my sister. Even harder since I didn’t remember doin’ it.”
“What do ya mean by that?”
“I tracked Ngaire down to a dive in Dargaville. She started pleading with me. I faltered, couldn’t make myself pull the trigger. I blacked out and came to with Ngaire filled with lead. Even though I didn’t think Pain wuz capable of murder, I wrote in her diary, asking her if she’d killed Ngaire.”
“And?”
“She didn’t do it.”
“Then who did?”
He laughed, the sound turning strangled at the end, fear filling his eyes. “I think someone else is in me. A third person.”
“Someone capable of murder?”
He nodded, his expression still scared. “Looks like goin’ after Ngaire might’ve triggered this new personality. Cos of it I’m communicating with Pain more, writing in her diary every day so she knows what’s happening. She’s writing back to me. She’s scared too, scared that the bogeyman—what she called him—will reappear.” He looked down at his hands. “I used to love Ngaire, but these hands still took her life. I’ve lost both a brother and a sister this year, and now I feel like I’m losing myself too.”
I reached out and pulled him into a hug. “I’m here for you, mate. If you’re scared or worried ’bout anything, or just need someone to talk to, come to me.”
He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his face into my shoulder. “Move back in with me,” he said, his voice muffled.
“There’s not enough room, I can’t sleep on your couch forever.”
He pulled his face away from my shoulder and looked into my eyes. “You can sleep in my bed.”
When I didn’t reply—or pull away, he nudged my nose with his, then brushed his lips over mine. I inhaled his kiss, his lips so fucking soft. For a second I forgot where we were and kissed him back, lust, desire, and want taking over from logic. His question was gone from my head, all thought going south, my cock now commanding me. I rubbed against Killer, groaning into his kiss. My hands moved to his arse, gripping tightly onto it, wanting to be touching skin, not leather.
A phone started ringing, snapping me out of what I was doing. I instantly pulled away from him. My heart was going nuts, firing off like a motherfucking machinegun. Killer reached out for me again, not caring about the phone, but I backed up rapidly, needing to put distance between us, what we’d done in Hemi’s room scaring the shit out of me. And not because Jasper could’ve walked in on us. But because Killer had made my heart react in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
Not since my ex-wife.
But it wasn’t love.
Because there was no fucking way I was ever going to fall for a man.
But it was definitely more than lust, the ache he’d put inside of me not just straining at my pants.
“Tane,” Killer said, moving towards me again, looking like he was going to press for more.
I held my hand out to stop him from getting closer and pulled out my mobile from my jeans, using my thumb to pick up the call. “What do ya want?” I snapped into the phone, what I’d done with Killer leaving me wound up tighter than a virgin cunt.
Milan’s voice came over the line, a bite to his tone. “Is that anyway to speak to your prez?”
“Didn’t know it wuz you, Lord and Master,” I growled back, too on edge to give a shit. “So take my humblest apologies and shove them up your Dally arse.”
“Fuck, you’re a cunt.” Though, a snigger followed, my words obviously amusing him.
“So, what do ya want?”
“Reaper. We think we may have a location for him, but aren’t sure how to approach since he ambushed Craven’s men the last time.”
“Blow the place up with a coupla RPGs. He won’t be able to ambush that.”
“Please take this seriously, Tane.”
“I am. Don’t send anyone in after him. He will kill them. You hafta take him out some other way. Ask the Mercenaries for their sniper. Magnus is a crack shot. We were privates together in the army. While I wuz gettin’ court martialled, he wuz gettin’ promoted. Pity he lost his leg in Iraq, otherwise he’d still be in the army.”
Milan made a “Hmm” sound, obviously considering what I’d said.
“Or...” I continued, another idea coming to me. “Maybe we can use Reaper to weed out Jonah.”
“That’s like trying to use a king
cobra to catch a rattlesnake. Either way, we get bitten.”
“Well, I’ve just found out some juicy info that might make Reaper turn on Jonah.”
“What?”
“Leave a message with Reaper’s family, tellin’ them that the girl who ratted out Hemi’s boy lied to Jonah. That the cops proved it. That the DC prez took the word of a jealous li’l twat, hell-bent on revenge. That his MC wuz destroyed, and his brother killed, all cos his useless fuckin’ prez couldn’t see through Phelia’s bullshit. See what Reaper does after that. If we’re lucky, he’ll take out Jonah for us.”
“We need more than luck. Another of our crew went missing last night. Fabian suspects it wuz Reaper. One man has got a whole club of crims quaking in their bloody boots. If anything, I’d rather have Reaper taken out first.”
“RPGs, man. It’s the only way you’ll get him. Or through his family.”
“You know how I feel about involving family. It could also get ours targeted.”
“That’s already bloody happening, or don’t you fuckin’ care since it ain’t your kids under fire?”
“Of course I fucking care! And if we go after Reaper’s family, we all die painfully. Even Craven’s worried about the psycho. He called earlier, telling me about Reaper killing one of his men. The psychotic freak carved out a message on the guy’s back, saying he’s coming after everyone who had a hand in his brother’s death. Because of it, Craven wants to start looking for Reaper again. He said he’ll let bygones be bygones if we help him.”
“Oh, how gracious of him,” I said, layering on the sarcasm.
“Yeah, I was so close to telling him where to stick his bygones, but we have enough problems with Reaper, we don’t need more with Craven.”
“Either way, don’t fall for whatever cock and bull he spins. The only reason he’ll want our help is so he can send in our men instead of his, and we’ve had enough deaths already.”
“Don’t worry, I’m onto him. I deflected the bastard, told him we have a lead, and that I’ll get back to him after I follow it up. Now, in the meantime we need to somehow divert Reaper’s attention away from our crew and onto Craven fully, which might be possible now that Reaper knows it was Craven’s lot, not ours, who killed his brother.”
Jagged Pill (Broken Lives Book 3) Page 22
