Retribution

by Heather Atkinson

  “What did you forget?” he said, expecting to see Jez walk in.

  Instead of his partner and best friend, in came a trembling, angry wreck of a man carrying a gun, which he pointed right at him.

  “Hands up,” said the man.

  “Who the fuck are you and how did you find this place?” demanded Mikey, ignoring the order to raise his hands.

  “No wonder you don’t have a clue,” hissed the man. “I’m too lowly for someone as high and mighty as you to notice. Mind you, you don’t notice very much. I followed you and you didn’t have a clue. But you did look to have your head in the clouds, probably because of that mad ginger gnome who turned up on your doorstep, shouting the odds.”

  “You’ve been watching my house too?” he bellowed, furious that this gunman had got near his boys. He’d taken his eye off the ball and now this had happened. Normally no one could follow him without him noticing but, to be fair, he did have a lot on his mind. It was a sobering lesson.

  “Yes,” said the gunman, tilting back his head. “My name’s Tom and you killed my best friends.”

  “Best friends?”

  “Charlie O’Brien and Rob Jensen.”

  “Oh them. Actually, I only killed one of them. I couldn’t find Rob.”

  “You’re lying,” he yelled, his hand holding the gun shaking.

  “No I’m not. We tracked his passport, he went abroad to India.”

  “India?” he said in a small, bewildered voice. “That’s his favourite place to visit.”

  “There you go then.”

  “No, you’re lying. He would have contacted me to let me know he was okay. We’ve been best friends since we were kids.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to do that because he didn’t know whether we’d call asking if you’d seen him?”

  “I…alright, I believe you about Rob but it doesn’t matter because you still killed Charlie.”

  “Only because he tried to kill my cousin when she was helpless and unable to defend herself,” he said, eyes narrowing. “If he hadn’t done that we would have left him alone.”

  “She hurt him first, she beat him up.”

  “And why did she do that? Because he tried to rape the sister of a friend of hers.”

  “No he didn’t. She wanted it, Charlie said so.”

  “No she didn’t you fucking donut. Your precious Charlie was a nasty bastard and he got what he deserved.”

  “He was my friend,” he yelled, a tear sliding down his cheek. “And you finished him like he was nothing.”

  “To protect my cousin. If Charlie was here I’d kill him all over again.”

  “You’re not even sorry, are you?”

  “No, I bloody well am not,” he spat, furious.

  Tom recoiled slightly. This wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d envisaged Mikey Maguire on his knees before him, begging for his life but he looked like he was ready to pull him apart. No wonder everyone who’d come after this family was dead. His resolve reasserted itself. He was determined to do this. For Charlie. “I’m going to kill you, for my friend and when I’m done I’m going after your business partner then that biker slag cousin of yours.”

  “You’ll leave her alone,” he snarled.

  “Touched a nerve, have I?” he grinned, cocking the gun. “Maybe I’ll put her first on my list, right after I’ve done you.”

  Tom swung the gun round when there was the slam of the front door, as astonished as Mikey to see Jules herself walk in.

  “What are you doing here?” said both men in unison.

  “I need to talk to you about something,” she told Mikey before turning her attention to Tom. “What’s all this then?”

  “This is perfect,” grinned Tom, aiming the gun at her chest. “I can kill you in front of him.”

  Mikey was frantic. He had no weapon and no way to stop him shooting Jules before he could get near Tom, who had been careful to stay on the other side of the room. He just prayed Jules had her knives on her.

  An idea popped into his head. He held his car keys, his car right outside the window. He pressed the unlock button and the car beeped, the flash of the lights dazzling in the darkened room, startling Tom. When he looked to the window Jules drew one of her knives from her sleeves and hurled it, the blade embedding itself in the top of his hand, causing him to drop the gun.

  Mikey snatched it up and pointed it at him. Tom cradled his injured hand, the knife still sticking out of it, looking in stunned silence from Mikey to Jules and back again.

  “What the…,” he began.

  Jules pulled the knife from his hand, making him squeal and pressed it to his neck.

  “What do you want me to do with him?” she asked Mikey. “You might want to decide quickly, he’s dripping blood on the floor.”

  “First we need to find out whether we can expect any of his little friends to turn up.”

  “I don’t have any friends,” he retorted. “You killed them. Well one of them anyway. And Pat and Steve too.”

  “I see,” said Jules. “So you’re one of the little band who came after me at the care home and who put all those wonderful nurses at risk?”

  “No,” muttered Tom. “I told them all to leave you alone and that they were stupid for trying but they wouldn’t listen.”

  “So why are you here now doing exactly what they did?” she frowned.

  “For revenge,” he exclaimed.

  Jules snorted with laughter. “You sound like something out of a bad film. But we do need to know whether you’ve brought any back-up.”

  “That’s for you to wonder,” he said.

  Jules pressed the tip of the blade into his left shoulder, just above the collarbone. “Cry all you like,” she said. “This room is soundproofed. Out here no one can hear you scream.”

  Her malicious smile made Mikey grin soppily.

  “Have you brought anyone else with you?” she demanded with another twist of the blade.

  “No,” gasped Tom. “It’s…just me. Please stop.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she said, grinding the blade against his collarbone.

  With that, Tom passed out.

  “What a girl,” she said, withdrawing the knife.

  “I think you went in too hard too fast,” said Mikey.

  “Rubbish, I hardly touched him.”

  “He has a hole in his shoulder.”

  “There are worse places to have a hole.”

  “Good point.”

  Jules retrieved two mugs containing cold coffee from Jez’s desk. “He’s a dirty sod,” she said, peering into one of the mugs. “Urgh, this one has mould floating on the top.” She threw the contents of the mugs into Tom’s face, who jumped awake and groaned at the pain in his hand and shoulder.

  “Why did you have to come here?” Mikey said to him. “We would have left you alone, you weren’t even on our radar. Now we can’t turn you loose, not after you tried to kill us.”

  “What are you going to do?” rasped Tom, throat constricted with fear.

  “What do you think?” said Jules, brandishing her knives.

  “Please don’t kill me,” he squeaked.

  “It’s your own stupid fault,” Mikey roared at him. He was going to have to order him to be killed and he only looked to be in his twenties, not much more than a kid. But he couldn’t risk letting him go only for him to get more organised and come back at them harder, or perhaps next time targeting their children. It was a matter of survival and Mikey hated being put in this position again. He didn’t like death and violence but it was an integral part of his life and it seemed that was the way it was going to stay.

  “Call Grant,” he told Jules with a weary sigh.

  Grant arrived at the bungalow with Mark and Shane in tow, who took a sobbing Tom away never to be seen again.

  After they’d gone Jules set about cleaning up the blood and erasing all traces of Tom’s presence.

  “So what brought you here tonight?” Mike
y asked her as she worked. “I mean, I’m really glad you came but you said you needed to talk to me about something?”

  “Let me clear this crap up first,” she said.

  Jules disappeared down into the cellar to dispose of the cloth she’d used to mop up Tom’s blood, throwing it and the latex gloves she wore to do the job into the furnace. She then cleaned up her knives and returned them to the sheaths at her wrists. She took her time, going over exactly what she was going to say to him. Jesus, she was actually nervous. She’d never let a man make her feel like this before but, as she was rapidly finding out, Mikey made her feel things no one else could. Not even Jackson.

  Her heart thudding, she returned upstairs to find him pouring out two whiskies.

  “Here you go,” he said, holding out a glass to her.

  “Thanks,” she replied, snatching it off him and downing it in one go.

  “Go easy,” he said. “That’s my best scotch.”

  “You’d better fill me up then,” she said, holding the glass out for more.

  With a puzzled frown he tipped another shot into the glass, watching as she downed that too.

  “Whisky that good should be savoured,” he said.

  “Sorry but I need some Dutch courage,” she replied, slamming the glass down on his desk.

  “What for? Don’t tell me that little wank shit you up?”

  “Course not. What sort of bloody soft sack do you think I am?”

  “So what’s up then? Don’t tell me you’re leaving again?” he said anxiously.

  “If I could get a word in edgeways I might be able to tell you.” She took another deep breath, wishing her heart would stop thumping, it was very distracting. “Okay, here goes.”

  “Finally.”

  “I love you,” she announced, jabbing a finger at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound so aggressive but I do. And I…well…I can’t stop thinking about you. I even drew you as an American Indian today.”

  “American Indian?”

  “Never mind. The point I’m trying to make is that, well, I said we should wait because of the shit I’ve been through but I don’t want to wait because waiting is shit. I mean…God I’m crap at this. I mean, I’m over Jax and I know you’re over Amber, so what’s stopping us from getting together right now?”

  She ended this statement with a smile, assuming she’d be swept into his arms. On the contrary, he just looked pissed off.

  “So,” he began, putting down his glass. “After years of you giving me hope only to take it away again you expect me to come running when you click your fingers, like some sort of fucking poodle?”

  “No,” she said, bewildered.

  “Yes you did and if I do come running I know exactly what would happen. You’d change your mind again, crushing me again. Well I’m not doing it anymore. You can only push me so far Jules.”

  “What are you talking about you madman? I thought this was what you wanted?”

  “It is for fuck’s sake, it’s all I’ve dreamed about since we met but you keep picking me up and putting me down again like a toy and I’m sick of it.”

  “I bloody well do not, I’ve always been straight with you and told you how I feel. I have never once led you on.”

  “Yes you do, constantly.”

  “I don’t get this. I came here to bare my soul, to tell you I want to be with you and you throw it back in my face.”

  “Welcome to the club,” he yelled.

  “So you don’t want to be with me now?” she yelled back, the intensity of the hurt disturbing her.

  “No, I’m not saying that.”

  “Then what are you saying for fuck’s sake?”

  “I’m telling you to stop playing around. I had enough games from Amber and I’m so tired of them. I want something real and I’m not going to waste another second of my time on anything less.”

  “Am I speaking Swahili here or something? Why don’t you understand what I’m saying? I love you Mikey and I want to be with you. I made the wrong decision when I chose Jax over you. You know everything about me, we have no secrets. You won’t look at me like I’m a freak when you see what I actually do for a living, mainly because you’re the one ordering me to do it but let’s not split hairs.”

  “So you’re saying that time I offered to leave Amber for you and you turned me down for Jackson was a mistake?”

  “Yes,” she exclaimed, relieved that he finally seemed to be understanding her.

  “And what if you suddenly decide we’re a mistake?”

  “I won’t.”

  “You seemed pretty sure Jackson was the right man for you. You could so easily change your mind again.”

  “Every relationship is a risk, no one can see into the future. I bet when you married Amber you didn’t think it would turn out like it did?”

  “Oh yeah, I saw in a crystal ball that she was going to turn into a mad banshee and start shagging my cousin. It’s what made me propose.”

  “There’s no need to be like that. I don’t understand why you’re being so arsy.”

  “You really don’t, do you?” he said shaking his head.

  “Where are you going?” she said when he snatched up his car keys.

  “Out somewhere to get pissed,” he retorted. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

  “No one walks out on me,” she yelled, drawing her knives and hurling them at the door he was about to walk through, where they embedded themselves in the wood.

  “You’ve done it to me often enough,” he said, eyes flashing with hurt.

  She placed herself before him, preventing him from leaving. “Do you know why else I turned you down before?”

  “Go on then,” he sighed.

  “Because you were married and I thought you’d be better off with Amber.”

  Mikey snorted.

  “Stupid I know but I honestly did. But when I was in the coma I could hear your voice. I could hear all your beautiful words about how much you missed and loved me. Your voice was always louder than Jackson’s.” She swallowed down her tears. “Always.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, because we’re made for each other.” She took his face between her hands. “I love you Mikey. This isn’t some game or rebound. I really do and finally it’s our time to be together.”

  Mikey gazed down at her, expression inscrutable and she thought he was going to walk out on her. Instead he pressed his lips to hers and she responded enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  Mikey ended the kiss, his eyes turbulent. “If you’re messing with me I’ll snap your neck.”

  “I’m not messing Mikey. I wouldn’t.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Let me prove it,” she said, kissing him again.

  Mikey groaned into her mouth, crushing her against him. Wasn’t this what he’d always wanted, Jules telling him she wanted to be with him? He was too terrified to accept in case he disappointed her and she changed her mind.

  He pushed her up against the wall, pinning her arms over her head, making her grin, her body undulating against his in that wonderful sinuous way that belonged only to her. He gazed hard into her eyes, his chest heaving. He’d imagined this moment so many times he hardly dared believe it was finally happening.

  “So close,” she breathed, sensing his indecision. “After years of wondering what it would feel like, are you seriously going to walk out now?” She wrapped her thighs around his waist, gasping when he pressed himself against her.

  “Maybe I should walk away?” he said, voice coming out as rasp. “Maybe it would be for the best?”

  “Fine, go home to your lonely bed and your dreams of me. Spend the rest of your life wondering.”

  He released her arms, sliding his hands down her body, yanking the black vest off over her head to reveal her breasts pushed up in a black satin bra. His hand trembled slightly as he stroked the tops of her breasts, fascinated by the way her eyes turned hazy with pleasure, th
e pupils dilating, cheeks flooding with colour, feeling the sweat bead between his shoulder blades as lust surged through his body.

  He let his fingers slowly wander over her smooth flat belly, brushing the scar there, taking his time, enjoying the way she writhed with impatience beneath his touch as he subjected her to some of the frustration she’d forced him to endure. He pinned her with his gaze as he flicked open the button on her jeans and tugged down the zip.

  They both gasped when he slid his hand inside her panties.

  “At last,” he whispered when he felt her warm wetness.

  Jules thrust her tongue into his mouth while tearing open his shirt and dragging it down his shoulders.

  The feel of her hands on his bare skin snapped what restraint he had left and he tore down her jeans, Jules kicking off her boots so he could remove her clothing. He whipped everything off down her legs, cast it aside then pushed her back up against the wall, her thighs locking around his waist. They took a moment to look deep into each other’s eyes, both flushed and breathing hard before he thrust up into her.

  “Oh God,” he groaned while Jules cried out and clung onto him. He thrust into her again and again, her lips against his, nails digging into his back. He felt as though he was drowning in her, she was everywhere. An entire football team could have walked in and he wouldn’t have noticed. Or cared.

  He wrapped his fingers in her hair and yanked back her head, nipping at the skin of her throat with his teeth.

  When her cries reached a crescendo he raised his head to watch her, her nails raking his back harder. Her eyes rolled open and gazed right into his as she tensed around him, her cries filling his ears. As the orgasm claimed him, Mikey felt all the frustration and loneliness leave him in a rush.

  When his body finally relaxed he pressed his forehead to hers, both of them damp with sweat.

  “Epic,” he murmured. “Knew it.”

  “Oh yes,” she breathed, running her fingers through his hair.

  Gently he kissed her before setting her down on her feet.

  “What?” she said when he gave her an odd, inscrutable look.

  “I was waiting to see if you were going to run out of here.”

  She grinned. “Not a chance.”

  “What are you doing?” he said when she wandered over to his desk.