Craving Control

by Kylie Hillman

  Lainey bristles at my howling humour. She drops her arm and grabs Mik’s handgun from inside his jacket. Swinging around, she runs at me.

  “Shut the fuck up, Brendan. Just shut up!” she shouts.

  Her eyes are wild. Temporary insanity coating her battered face like a second skin. Lifting her arm, she aims at my heart, for the third time in less than twenty-four hours, and shoots me.

  It happens in slow motion. My life flashes before my eyes. It’s strange, I see nothing before she entered my world. As I examine my existence, all I see is her.

  My lover.

  My killer.

  The gunshot echoes off the walls. I wait for the searing pain to burn through me chest.

  It doesn’t come. All I feel is a tiny sting at the edge of my right arm. She barely nicked me.

  There's a collective gasp from all bystanders when she aims at me once more.

  Another shot rings out, and this time my body jerks when the bullet hits my shoulder.

  Warm blood runs down the inside of my bare arm. I look down, and see the perfectly round wound, then look back to Lainey. That’s three times she’s shot me now. Why won’t she finish the job if she wants me gone so badly?

  As if she can read my thoughts, Lainey stops running. She spreads her feet, holds the handgun in the perfect shooter’s stance, and aims for my heart once more.

  This time she’s not going to miss.

  I can feel it in my marrow.

  I can see it in her eyes.

  I blow her a kiss then screw my eyes tightly shut.

  I don’t want the last thing I see to be her hatred.

  My body tenses, and I wait. Embracing the final seconds of my life, I pull forth my happy memories.

  Lainey giggling when she caught me sniffing her. Lainey flashing earnest eyes at me when she told me to stick up for myself. Lainey accepting my ring. Lainey. Lainey. Lainey.

  It’s all her.

  The trigger clicks, and I smile, moving my lips in a silent entreaty.

  Please, I pray, since I can’t have peace with her in this world, can I have it in the next?

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Lainey starts screaming. I open my eyes and struggle to comprehend the sight before me.

  Mik is wrestling the gun from her. She’s fighting him, wailing like a banshee, while he does everything in his power to take the handgun from away without hurting her.

  I expect her to cede to him. When she doesn’t, I receive an insight into her psyche. She’s angrier at Mik than she has ever been at me. His offence is miniscule compared to my multiple crimes, yet she’s never come at me with half as much passion. It takes me a bit, but I eventually understand why.

  She trusted him in a way she never trusted me. She expected me to let her down. To lie to her. To abuse her loyalty. To hurt her.

  She never expected Mik to fail her.

  As her kicking and screaming increases, his grip on her becomes gentler. It’s illuminating watching him humble himself for her in a way that I never would. Almost every member of his brotherhood of bandits is watching him take a beating from a girl he could easily overpower, yet it hasn’t influenced his handling of her at all.

  Is that what true love is?

  Is that what makes her seek him out over me?

  Because he’s happy to hand her his balls and call it a day?

  “Get away from me,” Lainey screams at him.

  He cradles her in his arms and holds the gun toward the floor, so she can’t turn it on me.

  “Lainey, stop it!” he orders. “Angel, calm down. I can explain.”

  They must have been the words she was waiting to hear because the fight immediately leaves her body and she allows him to take the weapon and assist her to her feet. He tosses the handgun to Beast, who twirls it around his finger in the same way Lainey did in my bedroom yesterday, and glares at his wayward daughter. She’s panting hard, her face turning redder the longer everyone stares at her.

  “Why didn’t you fucking tell me that I was being blamed for giving Benji drugs?” Mik rounds on Beast. “You convict me without giving me a fucking chance to defend myself. What the fuck are you playing at, Beast? I'm your VP, your godson, and soon-to-be your fucking son-in-law. You know me.”

  Even though no one is looking at me, I shake my head. No one in the entire club—except maybe Viking, who’s not here—seems to have any idea about Beast’s twenty-year-old grudge or his current plans to settle that debt.

  Beast offers Mik a shrug, and the most cursory of responses. “Didn’t have time to tell you shit.”

  It’s abundantly clear that he doesn’t want to deal with this now.

  “You can give us your excuses after we’ve finished here, VP,” he finishes.

  “Fuck you, Beast. You’ve got this so fucking wrong.”

  Lainey’s father turns his back on his Vice President and gives his daughter his full attention.

  “You got your shit back together, or do I need someone to take you outside?”

  She breathes deeply, lifting herself to her full height, then takes a huge step away from Mik. She appears resolute when she answers, “I’m good.”

  “You fucking better be.”

  Apparently, the matter is settled in Beast’s mind. He stalks over to me and backhands me across the face.

  “You got anything to say before we end you?”

  I spit the blood that pools in my mouth onto his boots and smile.

  It’s time for phase two of my backup plan.

  “Yes, I do,” I reply. Pulling in a ragged breath, I steady myself before I continue. Once the cat is out of the bag, there’s no going back. I smile at Lainey as I say, “Are you sure you know where all of your brothers are?”

  “Pardon?” She’s as puzzled as the rest of them.

  Only Beast understands what I’m alluding to, but he tries to downplay it to save face.

  He hits me again. “I told you not to talk to my daughter. You speak to me, and only me. I know where my kids are, cunt, so let's do this.”

  The assurance he offers is enough to strip the tension from our audience. It boggles my mind. He’s the cause of this situation, yet they’re still looking to him for leadership.

  If only they knew.

  Turning to Mik, he motions him forward with the handgun that Lainey stole from him. “If you’ve still got her blessing—finish this.”

  Mik looks at Lainey, one eyebrow arched. He tries to hide his worry from her. He’s a terrible actor. Blind Freddie can see his packing it over the drug revelations.

  She gives him a tight smile, and he launches into action immediately.

  Now, I understood why she’s here. Lainey doesn’t want to kill me herself, she wants to watch him do it.

  She really is the Delilah to my Samson.

  “Fuck, I wish I had time to play with you. Give you real payback for every second of pain you caused my woman. Unfortunately, it’s your fucking lucky day. We have the rest of your mess to clean up instead.”

  Coughing roughly, I spit blood on Mik’s VP patch. Looking past him, I stare straight at Lainey.

  “You really need to phone home and make sure all your brothers are accounted for, Lainey. Before this scum you chose over me causes another one of you to get hurt.”

  Mik punches me so hard that the chains I’m hanging from jerk wildly before they spin me in a full circle.

  “FOR FUCK’S SAKE. MAD DOG.” Beast has lost his shit. His words boom around the tin shed, bouncing off the walls and vibrating through us all. “We don't have fucking time to play. Finish him.”

  “Yeah, Mad Dog. Do what you’re told like a good little puppy—” I don’t get to finish my taunt before he’s hit again.

  Spurred by a subtle dip of Beast’s head, Timber rushes forward and grabs Mik.

  I laugh and laugh and laugh as they fight. Mik is determined to compound his earlier failure with yet another mistake while Timber is trying his hardest to stop him from making a mistake that coul
d have fatal ramifications.

  And, not for me. I’m fine. I’m just hanging around waiting for them all to catch up with proceedings.

  I’m talking about Joel O’Brien. The poor boy, who would be in severe pain right about now at the Mavericks of Mayhem’s clubhouse. You see, I was taught by the best to always have a back-up plan.

  I might have neglected to properly stock my fail-safe house, but I didn’t forget to take out an insurance policy. First the USB with photos of Benji off his head was dispatched by my faithful servant, Hugo, to the Black Shamrocks clubhouse, then he organised for the Mavericks of Mayhem to snatch Beast’s forgotten son from right under his nose.

  They were all so worried about Benji and the two youngest boys that they didn’t pay any attention to the quiet O’Brien. It’s quite sad, really. He is, by far, the most like Beast, yet he struggles to be seen by his father. He was the perfect one to target as a hostage.

  Just like I knew she would, Lainey sees the danger before anyone else. She grabs her father’s arm and begs. “Dad, please check. I need to know for sure.”

  Beast swears, then he gives her a curt nod and storms out of the shed.

  Finally gaining the upper hand, Timber drags Mik away and leaves Lainey standing in front of me, all on her lonesome.

  “This isn’t over, Lainey, I have many hands left to play,” I promise her. She swallows, blinking hard and trying with all her might to hold herself together in the face of my latest trick. I do my best to drive home the point that what’s happening now is her fault. “If you’d just given in, instead of running away, then nobody else would need to be hurt. What happens now is on your head. Remember that, baby girl.”

  She stares at me, a frown pulling her eyebrows together.

  “You need to accept that I'm not letting you go and get ready to leave with me. I love you more than someone who’d give your brother drugs ever could.”

  “Stop fucking talking,” Kyle barks at me.

  The little snake punches me in the gut and ties the dirty rag around my mouth again. As he drags Lainey away from me, I glare with pure hatred at the back of his head.

  He’s nothing but an upstart. His alcoholic parents didn’t want a thing to do with him, so he attached himself to the O’Brien family like a little leech. I’ve hated him since the day I saw how precious he was to Lainey.

  When I get free, he’s the third one I’m taking out. Mik, Benji, Kyle... in the order.

  When Kyle and Lainey reach the group of Black Shamrocks huddled near the double doors waiting for news from Beast, Mik emerges from the group and gathers her in his arms.

  His voice carries over to me when he speaks to her.

  “Fuck, angel, I’m so sorry. I have no fucking idea what’s going on here.”

  He’s a liar. I watched him give Benji drugs with my own eyes.

  Lainey, unfortunately, is fooled. She melts into his arms, resting her head against his chest and sighing. She mumbles something in response, but I can’t hear it because Beast has returned and he’s on a warpath.

  “Wake up,” he yells at Stu before he shoots him in the leg.

  Planting his hands on the arms of the chair Stu’s tied to, he wrenches him back upright, then leans in close.

  I can feel his menace from where I’m hanging.

  “Tell me who you’re with,” he orders.

  Understanding flits over Stu’s face before he composes himself. Poker face intact, he tries to bullshit his way out of the situation.

  “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  Beast shoots him in the other leg. Stu grits his teeth, still not making any noise. Mik shuffles Lainey behind him, but she peers around his shoulder.

  “Yes, you fucking do. Now stop being an obtuse cunt and tell me.” Beast rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck from side to side. He knocks Stu’s chair over, grinning at the sickening sound Stu’s head makes when it hits the concrete floor. “This’s only gonna get more painful every time you don’t fucking answer.”

  Stuck on his back, Stu remains silent.

  Beast waves over Timber, who approaches Stu and yanks the chair upright with one arm. Digging into his pocket, he pulls out a pair of surgical gloves and snaps them on. I look on in sick fascination when he sticks one of his gloved fingers into the bullet wound in Stu’s left leg. The glint of enjoyment in his eyes knocks free a random fact, and I work out why he’s always seemed familiar. Everyone in the city has read about Blake the Butcher, the infamous torturer the Black Shamrocks use on their enemies.

  He’s been on the front page of the papers numerous times. The photos didn’t do him justice, so I didn’t recognise him straightaway. A butcherer of human flesh who wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of GQ magazine.

  Who would have through?

  To his credit, Stu holds out as long as he can. By the time, Timber adds an extra finger to his wounded leg, Stu looks like he’s going to pass out again.

  Sweat rolls down his face, his pallor ghostly white, and his head lolls to one side. I feel his pain. My own injuries are particularly pleasant.

  “Bring me my tool bag,” Timber demands.

  One of the Back Shamrocks runs over with an old-fashioned, black medical bag in his hand.

  “Now, I’m gonna give you one more chance to talk before I fuck you up so bad only your fucking mother will love you.” Timber’s deep voice rumbles around the shed.

  Stu whimpers once more.

  “I can tell by your face that my reputation precedes me, so you know you’ll be talking anyway. Let’s save some fucking time, hey?”

  Timber must apply more pressure to the wound because Stu squeals.

  “Okay, okay,” he whines. “I’m with the Mavericks of Mayhem.”

  Every man—except for me since I already knew—bursts into a barrage of curses and angry mutterings. Beast explodes and has another go at Stu while Mik does what he does best and tries to shield Lainey from yet another dose of reality.

  He makes me sick.

  She should have a ringside seat to the carnage she’s creating.

  Maybe she wouldn’t be so selfish if he stopped protecting her from the repercussions of her actions?

  “What deal did he make? Do they have my son?” Beast peppers Stu with questions. “What’s your position with them?”

  Lainey looks at me when Stu doesn’t answer. My earlier threats must be sinking into her pretty, little head.

  It’s taken her long enough. I credited her with more intelligence than this.

  She tries to come over to me. Her Knight-in-Rusted-Tin-Foil holds her back with a bear hug. He whispers something to her, and she turns away from me to watch her dad in action.

  Silly girl.

  Kicking Stu in the chest, Beast points his gun at him as Timber starts going through his medical bag. Stu starts shaking, whining with fear. Most of the men gathered curl their lips in disgust at his weakness. I also lose a little bit of respect for him.

  I thought he’d at least lose a finger before he started spilling his guts.

  Instead all it takes is the threat of a meeting with Blake the Butcher for him to start running at the mouth like a drunk sorority girl.

  “I’m just a new patch. I was ordered to snatch and deliver your girl because I’m ex-army reconnaissance. I don’t know what he paid, and I don’t know anything about your son.” He points at Lainey. “After she escaped, I was told to take him to his parents’ house, so they could get him private medical assistance. That's all I know. I swear. I swear.”

  He’s mostly telling the truth. Bloody turncoat. He’s going on the second list as well.

  Beast seems less stressed after Stu’s confession. He grabs him around the throat and slams him against the back of the chair, then leaves him to head over to me.

  Ripping the rag from my face, a large vein straining visibly in his forehead, he demands the full truth.

  “Where the fuck’s Joel?”

  I smirk. This is where I take co
ntrol of the situation and bargain my way to safety.

  “Beast, I’ve let you have your fun, but I’m in charge now.”

  Of course, he can’t let go gracefully.

  He unnecessarily headbutts me, then gets back in my face. “Tell me where my son is, or you’re gonna end up more fucked up than your friend over there.”

  As if on cue, Stu grunts in pain before squealing. “I don’t know nothing else, I swear.”

  I feign exhaustion and let my head hang down like I’m on the cusp of giving up. The blood from my broken nose runs down my chin and over my chest, and my three bullet wounds throb.

  The pain doesn’t worry me anymore.

  It invigorates me.

  I feel more alive than I have in years.

  “As I said,” I state this with methodical precision. They’ve all proven to be quite thick, so I dumb it down as much as I can and speak slower. “I’m in charge now, and I have some demands.”

  Beast scoffs. I pretend I didn’t hear him and eyeball Mik instead. “Get your hands off her, biker scum.”

  “Fuck you,” Mik barks, not moving a muscle.

  “No, fuck you. Get your filthy hands off her. She’ll be leaving with me shortly, and I don't need her smelling like trash. We have an exchange to organise.” My pride in my plan finally runs over. I have defeated them and they’re too stupid to realise yet. “My new friends have Joel and will deliver him to you after I let them know that Lainey and I are safe.”

  “Yeah, no fucking chance of that,” Mik answers.

  I expected as much from him. He never was one to see sense quickly.

  Lainey walks to her dad, capitulation written all over her face.

  Beast shrugs her off. He points at Stu. “Timber. Bring him outside.”

  His dogged determination to find a way around me should piss me off.

  It doesn’t.

  Because I know that the longer they hold onto their hope, the more it’ll hurt when they discover that they had already lost right from the start.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Over thirty minutes later—I know because I kept track on the watch my sole guard is wearing—the sound of motorcycles fills the air and the bikers that originally caught us on the way home come back inside.