by LP Lovell
We drive to the supermarket in silence. I’ll admit that although it may be mundane, this small slice of freedom feels liberating.
Caleb doesn’t linger, he runs around the shop like it’s a bloody hit and run. I have to double check we’re not robbing the place.
I glance at the trolley full of beer, pizza, hotdogs, and crisps. Seriously? How are these guys still alive? I wrestle the trolley from Caleb and walk off in the opposite direction.
“Ria!” he yells. “What are you doing?”
I glance over my shoulder at him as he huffs after me. “Buying food, obviously, and before you say anything, this is not food.”
He flashes me a disgusted look as I head for the vegetable section. “Are you for real? I’m not eating that shit.”
“You are not five, Caleb,” I sigh.
I move around the shop, ignoring his over dramatic huffing behind me. We pass a small home section, and I spot some picture frames sitting on a shelf. I pick one up and pop it in the trolley.
“Why the hell are we buying picture frames, woman?” he groans. “You’re not fucking redecorating!”
“Maybe I’m going to take a picture of you, as a keepsake.” I smirk.
He frowns, but says nothing. He’s so damn cute sometimes.
“Two hundred dollars!” Caleb shouts, snatching the receipt from me. “This was meant to be a quick trip to the store. Fucking hell.”
“Well, if you didn’t have five hundred litres of beer, then it wouldn’t be two hundred dollars. Now load this shit.” I gesture to the shopping cart and laugh at the expression on his face.
He loads the bags and gets into the car next to me. “Never again,” he says, shaking his head.
He pulls out of the car park and heads home. I roll my eyes. “You would think I had just tried to wax your nut sack, the way you carry on.”
He scowls at me. “You’re sick.” Says the guy who helps kill people.
We’re about halfway home, and the buildings are starting to give way to woodland and farmland when I notice Caleb looking agitated. His eyes flick to the rearview mirror and back to the road repeatedly. I turn to look behind us.
“Don’t look,” he snaps. “They’ve been following us since we left the store.”
I glance in the wing mirror and see a black SUV behind us. I can’t make out the passengers. “What are you going to do?” I ask quietly.
“Not lead them back to the house.” His face is deadly serious, cold, like his brother’s.
“Get the gun outta the glove box,” he says, his eyes trained on the rearview mirror.
“I’m not—”
He cuts me off. “I’m not fucking around, Ria. Get it!”
I open the glove box, my hand trembling as I reach for the black pistol. I don’t want to touch the damn thing.
“Under the seat, there’s a box, get it out,” he instructs. I hesitantly reach under the seat and pull out a black box. I open it and several silver bullets fall onto my lap. Bloody Hell! I catch Caleb pulling his gun from the waist of his jeans. His finger slowly loops through the trigger. “You need to load that one,” he says, his voice too calm.
“I don’t know how to load a gun!” I shriek, panic gripping me.
“The button on the side there...push it.”
My fingers fumble and I close my eyes as I push the little button. The magazine falls out and I jump.
“Get about ten of the bullets, just push them down in there.”
I nervously do as instructed. “Now what?” I ask, staring at the weapon in my lap.
“Slam the magazine in the gun, with your palm.”
I attempt to do it, but it won’t stay in.
“No, Ria. Fucking hard, like this.” He bangs his palm against the end of his gun and I flinch, expecting it to go off. You’d think from all the shit I’ve endured over the last couple of weeks guns wouldn’t still terrify me, but they do.
I manage to snap the magazine in place, my hands shaking so violently, I’m sure I’m going to shoot myself.
“Pull back on the top to put a bullet in the chamber.”
I stare at him. “I can’t shoot a gun!”
“Well, you’re gonna learn because they aren’t following us to tell us hello. We’re as good as fucked.”
He hands me his phone. “Call Jude,” he barks, stress marring his features.
I lay the gun in my lap, eyeing it as I fumble with the phone. Caleb pulls off the main road and slams his foot on the accelerator, sending the car bumping down what looks like a farm track. The SUV follows suit, matching our pace. I hear the front bumper smash against a dip as the car gets air.
The phone rings a few times before Jude picks up. “What? I’m busy.”
“Jude.” I can’t hide the panic in my voice. “We’re being followed.”
“What?” he shouts, the immediate anger in his voice making me tense. The back end of the car slides across the loose gravel, slamming me against the door. “Fuck!” I hiss as pain ricochets up my arm and I drop the phone. The car continues to skid across the road until it bottoms out on the verge, the nose buried in a ditch. Caleb pulls his gun and starts firing through the window at the black truck.
“Ria, move!” he yells. “Get out and get down!” I swing the door open and throw myself on the grass. My eyes fall level with the foot well, where I spot Caleb’s phone. I scramble to pick it up as shots ring out around me.
“Jude!” I scream as I press the phone to my ear.
“Where are you?” His voice is low and measured.
“I don’t know. We were halfway home, and we passed a farm, and then we took a left onto a gravel track," I ramble. A gunshot pings off the door frame above my head and I scream.
Caleb is hunched down in the seat, but he’s going to get himself killed. “Caleb!” I shout at him, but he ignores me.
“Tor,” Jude snaps. “You stay down, you hear me?” I can hear a door slamming in the background.
“Okay.”
“You got a gun?”
“Yeah.”
“Just point and shoot. I’m coming for you.” I nod and drop the phone.
“Fuck!” Caleb curses. I glance up and he’s gripping his right arm. Blood spreads across the sleeve of his shirt.
“Caleb,” I cry out, tears threatening.
“I’m okay, Ria.” He hands me the gun and drags himself awkwardly across the centre console. He holds his arm to his chest as he lowers himself to the ground, leaning his back against the car.
“Jude’s coming,” I tell him.
“Well, by the time he gets here we might be dead. You’re gonna have to shoot. Never could shoot worth a shit with my left hand,” he laughs.
“What?!” I squeak as bullets continue to rain down on the car. It sounds like really big hail stones and the middle of a firework show.
“Just keep shooting at them. We only have to hold them off until he gets here.” I nod and raise the gun Caleb gave me, pointing in the general direction of the shooters. My hand shakes and my breath hitches in my lungs.
Caleb’s somehow calm. “Breathe, even breaths. Grip the handle with both hands.” I do as he says. “Now squeeze the trigger.”
I pull the trigger and the gun explodes in my hand, jarring my elbows. I release a heavy breath.
“Good,” Caleb grins. “That’s good.”
I take steady breaths as the gunfire continues to rain down on us. Caleb hands me another gun and reloads the old one. My nerves are shot and on edge. There’s a second of silence and Caleb nudges me, directing my attention to the back of the car. I listen intently, struggling to hear anything over the chaos of gunfire and the hammering of my own heart. Suddenly a guy bursts around the back of the car, gun pointed at me. Everything moves in slow motion. He pulls the trigger at the same time as I do. I hear the whistle of the bullet and the sharp crack as it breaks the air next to my ear. I watch as my bullet hits his chest, and he jerks backwards before hitting the ground. I scramble over to h
im and take his gun before retreating to my spot behind Caleb once more.
He touches my shoulder and I jump. “You did good, girl.” He flashes me a small smile.
I just killed somebody. I should feel something. I feel nothing.
Marney swerves, turning onto the dirt trail. Gunfire rings out just as I spot Caleb’s car halfway in the ditch. A black SUV sits in the middle of the road with both doors swung wide open, and I don’t see my brother or Tor anywhere. My pulse kicks into overdrive, my adrenaline ripping through my veins. I unfasten the seat belt, not allowing the car to come to a full stop before I jump out. All I can hear are the rapid-fire pops from a pistol. I check once more to see if I can locate Caleb and Tor, but I don’t have enough time. A bullet whizzes past and dings the hood of my car. I point the gun at the SUV and fire. The guy by the SUV turns, and before he has a chance to pull the trigger, I put a bullet right between his eyes. Gunshots come from behind Caleb’s car. A loud boom echoes from the trees as Marney shoots the other man in the SUV. “Fucker,” he says, making his way to the bodies, gun still raised.
I jog toward Caleb’s car, my blood pulsing through my veins. As soon as I round the trunk, I see Caleb slumped up against the car and Tor fumbling to reload a gun. There’s a guy lying on the ground, moaning and clutching his stomach.
My gaze darts to Tor. “Tor!” I shout.
She jumps, jerking the gun in front of her and aiming at me. The pistol shakes in her hands, and I’m afraid she may be so hyped up she’ll actually shoot me.
“Hey, put the gun down.”
Her eyes dart to the man on the ground, gun still aimed. I inhale, walk over to the guy, and aim at his face. “Fuck you,” I mutter, and pull the trigger three times, each times his body jerks.
I glance back at Tor and her face crumples as she points at Caleb. “They shot him.”
I look down at him. He’s clutching his arm, and his sleeve is soaked in blood. “You okay?”
He glares at me. “Yeah, fucking fantastic.” He moves and cringes from the pain. “I couldn’t fucking hold the gun after they hit me. It’s not bad. Just a pain in the ass.”
I look around at the mess surrounding me. The car is fucked with bullet holes. There’s two dead guys on the ground, and my little brother’s been shot. “Fuck!” I pace through the tall grass. “They’re with Joe, aren’t they?” I shout at Marney.
He digs through one of the guy’s jackets and pulls out an ID. “Simon DeLucas,” he says.
I immediately recall Euan sniveling that name out between his ridiculous pleading. “Fuck!”
“I’ll take that to mean he’s one of Joe’s?” Marney looks down at the guy. “Motherfucker,” he mumbles, and then puts another bullet in the dead man before walking over to me. “Well, shit. What are we gonna do with this shit right here?” he asks, waving his hand around at the scene.
I pull my phone from my pocket and dial David.
“Hello?”
“I’ve got a bit of a problem. Two bodies and a car.”
“Shit, JP. I’m on patrol. I can get a guy to take care of the cars. Just take the license plate off yours…but you’ll have to manage the bodies.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” I hang up.
I drag my hands through my hair. “We gotta take the bodies back to the house. David can’t get them right now.”
Marney shrugs and makes his way over to one of the stalky men and grabs his ankles, dragging him through the thick weeds toward the car.
I eye Caleb. He’s not going to be any fucking help. “Get in the car, would you?” I tell him before I shoot my gaze to Tor. “And I’m gonna need your help, doll.”
Her eyes flick from me to Marney, who’s pulling the body across the road and whistling to himself. “No.” She shakes her head. “Nuh-uh. I am not dealing with this shit.” There’s an edge of hysteria to her voice as she starts backing away from me.
I pull a cigarette from my pocket and light it. I wrap my arm around her shoulders as I hand the cigarette to her. “I always have a smoke after I shoot someone. Here, it helps.” I shove it in her face and she glares at me. “No? Okay then.” I take a long drag and blow the smoke at her, which apparently just pisses her off.
She shoves at my chest. “Seriously? Do you have absolutely no sense of danger, or a moral compass? You’re fucking insane!”
“I think you know the answer to that better than anyone.” I toss the cigarette to the side of the road. “All right,” I say, wiping my palms down the leg of my jeans. I walk to the trunk of the car and help Marney haul the man inside.
We make our way back to the other guy, and I stare at him. This fucker must weigh nearly four hundred pounds. Marney crosses his arms, his eyes trained on the massive man laid out in the grass.
“Little darlin’ over there better suck it up.”
I chuckle and glance back at her. “Hey little darlin’,” I sing out. “Need a hand over here.”
She places her hands on her hips and cocks an eyebrow. “You want me to touch a dead fat man?”
“Isn’t that what you went to school for?” I can’t help but laugh. She looks so damn pissed.
“Oh, yes, Jude. I went to school so I could shoulder press morbidly obese corpses!” Her voice grows more hysterical as she goes on.
“You’re being a ball-ache. Just come get his ankles, unless you want to hang out here to see if Joe likes you better as a brunette?”
“You mean his kankles.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You want my help?” She raises an eyebrow. “Beg me.”
Oh, fuck no! I feel the smile fade from my face as I glare at her.
I lean down to grab one of the man’s arms. “Unlike you, I don’t fucking beg.” I smirk. “Now come grab a kankle, would you?”
She stomps over to us like a fucking kid that’s not getting their way. Huffing, she bends down to grab one of the man’s legs.
“Well,” Marney says, grinning like a shit-eating bastard, “looks like you two have been getting along better than you should.”
“Oh, dear God,” she whines. “He smells so bad, and that’s not even the stench of death.” She looks utterly disgusted.
We pick the man up, struggling to cart his dead weight across the road.
“Oh, my God. What if someone drives down the street?” Tor lets go of his leg, and it falls to the ground with a thud.
I roll my eyes. “Jesus. No one’s driving down the damn road.”
“And if they did, we’d just shoot ‘em,” Marney says with a shrug.
She holds her hands up in front of her and shakes her head. “You are both insane. Fucked up!”
“Fuck, are you just now realizing this?” I groan. “Get his fucking leg and stop your bitching, woman.”
We manage to get the man across the road. Sweat is trickling down my temples and Marney’s gone into a coughing fit. Tor, she’s still holding his leg, her foot tapping over the dirt road.
I climb into the trunk and attempt to lift the man up, but he barely budges. Marney uses his weight to try and hoist the man up, but even that’s not enough.
“Tor!”
She huffs and moves, pushing against the body. She’s so small that she’s in very real danger of being completely crushed by this fat fucker.
“Oh God, I’m going to throw up.” She whines as her face presses against his stomach.
“Wait, wait, wait!” I hop down and pull her away from him “Just…” I shake my head. She’s no help, and I think part of me got her to do it just to see if she would. “Just go sit in the car with my brother.”
“Arsehole,” she grumbles before she stomps away.
I catch a glimpse of my reflection as I pull open the door to the basement. My shirt is wet, clinging to my body from the gory mess splattered all over it.
“I cannot believe you made me do that!” Tor shouts, following behind me. I cock a brow, turning to walk backward so I can look at her. Blood is smeared all over the front of her shirt.
�
�Like you’ve never had someone’s guts on you before. Get a grip.” I wipe a speck of dried blood from her cheek, before turning to go into my office.
Her nostrils flare. “Do you think this is funny?” she screams. “That was not fucking funny, Jude! I got fucking shot at!” She throws her hands up. “I’ve got some guy’s blood all over me!”
“Well, it was kinda funny watching you feel up a dead guy.”
She growls and raises her hand to slap me, but I catch it in the air and squeeze her wrist. I glare at her. Damn, she has a short fuse. “What did I tell you about slapping me?” I jerk her body to mine. “You need to rein that damn temper in,” I warn, my face inching toward hers. I would rein it in for her if it didn’t turn me on so much. I feel her breath on my mouth and I lose it. I growl as I slam my lips over hers in a brutal kiss. What the fuck am I doing? She grabs my head, her fingers pulling at my hair. I grip the back of her head, forcing her mouth against mine, making the kiss deeper. A small moan presses through her lips, and I lose all fucking control.
I use one hand to swat the door closed, then I back her toward my desk. She’s clawing at my shirt frantically, and I manage to rip my mouth from hers long enough to tear the bloodied shirt over my head. I grab the hem of her shirt and tear it from her body. The long purple scar snaking its way down her stomach makes my pulse lose a beat. I swallow and slam my lips back over hers. Her legs hit the desk and she falls back. I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t fucking help it. This woman is like heroin: it can fucking kill you, but is so damn good it’s worth the risk. Her hands clumsily grip my zipper as she grabs at the waist of my jeans, working them over my hips.
“This is fucking wrong,” I groan against her lips as I yank her sweatpants off.
“Everything with you is wrong,” she says, her nails scratching down my neck to my shoulders. Fuck me!
I work my mouth down the side of her neck, growing drunk on her scent. She pushes my boxers down and grips my cock hard. She strokes me like she fucking owns that shit. I spread her thighs, knocking papers and the phone from my desk in the process. “I’m gonna fuck you until you’re just as wrong as I am,” I growl.
