Silent Echoes

by Aleisha Maree

  “Wow, Nona. Calm down,” he laughs looking at me.

  “They are moving out from his warehouse now, so we probs have thirty minutes.”

  “Nona and Pops out?” I ask pushing to my feet looking at my best friend. We have been to hell and back together. He’s as loyal as he is strong, even if he’s crazy.

  “They are in the cellar with all the staff. You sure you don’t want them moved out?” he says as I kiss the side of Layla’s head. I pull my duffle bag out from under the bed.

  “No time. We move them now, and we risk them getting taken on route to a safe house.” I say while unzipping the bag.

  “Mmmm, yeah. You’re right there, brother.”

  “I know I am hence me boss, you, well you,” I say throwing a holster and Glock at him. Jimmy’s gun has and always will be a Glock. Mine’s a Ruger and a blade. I love knives. Jimmy’s straight shooting and fire. He loves to burn shit and people. Told you he’s sick.

  Layla moves to the side of the bed stepping into a pair of jeans and tying my shirt into a knot to the side of her waist. My eyes snap to her as she puts her hand inside the duffle bag pulling out a semi-automatic. She brings it up looking down the barrel.

  Jimmy broke out laughing, and Layla turned the gun on him as my hand reached for her pointing to the gun sight.

  “Whoa, hold up, babe. What the fuck you up to?”

  “I was going to give Jimmy a vagina where his dick is and then I was going to fuck shit up with you,” she says to me with a look of pure determination.

  “Then you stopped me, so what’s your problem?” Her hand goes to her hair, pulling it back from her face in a messy bun thing. Jimmy’s still laughing and I’m looking at this stunning human in shock, but also in amazement. Fuck, could she be any hotter?

  “Look, babe, as much as I like the idea of fucking up the world with you, that’s not going to happen.” Her eyes bore into mine and her lips pout. Jimmy moves toward the bed taking a few smoke bombs from it and placing them inside his vest. He has his own set up for shit like this. He looks like wardrobe organizer meet MacGyver.

  “Don’t look at me like that. No amount of fuck me eyes and pouting lips will change my mind. Fuck, all I wanna do each time I look at you is fuck you and you with a gun is hotter than anything. It gets my dick so damn hard and I can’t be distracted.” Her body moves slowly toward me seductively. It’s fucking painful as her lips graze my neck, latching to my earlobe as her hands find my hard cock.

  “Best you kill him and bring this cock back for me to fuck then. And make it fast,” she purrs into my ear. My eyes widen at the dirtiness, which just cements the fact that I’m wifeing her ass up and fast as soon as this is over.

  “Oh, and I ain’t going into no cellar. I will stay up here hidden, but available because I’m sure I can shoot better than Casanova over there.” Jimmy’s hand goes to his heart in mock hurt as he rolls his eyes. “We will see, little lady. We will see.” Taking her mouth in mine, I kiss her hard like it will be the last time I get to taste her lips on mine. Jimmy pulls out the old school wardrobe from the wall.

  Layla eyes him.

  “Look princess, just get in. Ok?” Behind it is a secret door leading down to the cellar. This house has it all, hence me buying it. After all I am going to be a mob boss and already I am one of the most sought-after people this side of the criminal underground.

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d much rather shoot than run, it’s not in me.”

  “Whatever,” Jimmy says walking from the room.

  “You fucking stay hidden and don’t do anything stupid.” Kissing her forehead as I put two Ruger’s in my holster and one in my waistband, then sheathing my blade I slip my jacket over my shoulders shrugging the weight of the leather out.

  “You come back with no holes,” she says falling into my arms.

  “I’ll try.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Battles are won through sins of bloodshed.

  Vengeance tastes good.

  ~ Micha Ragen

  I heard the floorboards upstairs creak as I positioned myself. Knowing she was alone up there sent a chill down my spine. She’s vulnerable up there, exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed. I will just have to make fucking sure that no one gets near her. Bullets are about to rain down on our home.

  Pushing my earpiece in I ask, “You ready, brother?”

  “Fuck, yes. I am,” Jimmy says back.

  “I can see the dust clouds from here, they are coming in hot.”

  “Rodger. Fan deartháir sàbháilte.”

  (Stay safe brother)

  “Déan è a Ioc as an dearthàir tromlui ar fad.”

  (Make him pay for all the nightmares brother.)

  I watched as Damon and six men got out of the two Range Rovers.

  “Came in style, ball bag prick,” Jimmy says into his earpiece as I clenched my jaw. I watched as they came up to the front door. I retreated back from the window to the other side of the foyer and through the door leading me toward the great room. Jimmy is heading to the library on the other side of the foyer.

  I heard the knock on the door then Damon’s voice. “Little piggy, open up or I will blow your house down,” he called out and my fists clenched.

  I didn’t answer. He doesn’t require my words, well not yet anyway.

  “This cunt actually thinks he’s funny,” Jimmy seethes into the earpiece.

  “Something like that,” I say back to him.

  “I’m actually getting hard thinking about lighting this cock bag on fire, brother,” he says into my ear and a sick smile plays on my lips.

  When nobody answers, he begins to knock louder. “Little piggy, little piggy, I will huff, and I will puff,” he calls out again, his men laughing thinking he’s fucking funny.

  He is becoming impatient and probably expecting that he has control on this whole situation. I smiled to myself, excited to finally make my last move. One of his men walked past the window. I caught sight of his shadow on the over-polished foyer floor. I thank the designer for opening up the front of the home with windows for light to grow flowers.

  “Jimmy, one coming to your ten o’clock.”

  “On it.” I quickly changed positions, getting into a back corner. “Little pig, little pig, here I come,” Damon yelled out.

  Just then, I heard a radio crackle out back, which wasn’t mine nor Jimmy’s.

  “They have radios, brother. Be ready for all angels.”

  “On it.”

  I heard the sound of the front door explode in and then another door and shattering of glass followed from a window close to where I was positioned.

  One of Damon’s men stepped in, his gun pulled ready to spot me hiding in the great room. I was just behind him as he stepped in.

  “Clear,” the dick called out.

  “What the fuck?” Damon yelled out.

  “Fan out, guys. Find those fucks.” His tone was like acid.

  Now it was time to wait. I counted down in my head. Three, two, one.

  “Jimmy, now!” We both pulled pins on the smoke bombs and threw them out into the foyer. Two each and then repeating again throwing behind us and to the side. The house was now drenched in a grey smoky darkness. We pull our breathing masks over our faces.

  “Ready,” I called out.

  “Fucking born ready, brother.”

  “Fuck,” Damon called out. “The fuck is happening?”

  “Nothing here, boss,” one guy called. “Clear over here.” I grinned.

  I came out of hiding, silenced Ruger held high. One of the guards came in through the door and before he could notice me, I put a bullet in his head. His body hit the ground with a thud.

  “What was that?” Damon called. “Boys report.”

  “Good,” one voice said. “Good here.” “Fine.” Then there was another thud and a sick laugh. Jimmy got one and then another thud and another laugh. That le
aves just three fuckers and the kingpin himself.

  There was a pause as I pressed myself against the wall. No movement, the smoke was still thick spreading all through my place. Nona is going to flip her shit as this shit stinks.

  “Adam?” Damon called. “You good?” No response. I grinned even larger. “Jase?” No answer.

  “Patrick?” Still nothing.

  “Your men are dead, you fucking scumbag,” I said into my earpiece as Jimmy laughed. “Yup, and I got a visual on this cock and I wanna shoot, boss,” he says. “Wait,” I called into my earpiece. “Be patient grasshopper.” Jimmy laughed. “Fucking quoting Pops now, are ya?”

  “Always he’s a smart guy.”

  “Yeah that’s cause he’s like one hundred,” Jimmy says as Damon yells out.

  “Shit, someone is here.” I stepped into the foyer, crouching low, and saw two figures. One was Damon and the other was his bodyguard. I put three bullets in the guard, knocking him back and down.

  “Fuck!” Damon yelled, diving away.

  “Eat a dick, bitch,” I hear Jimmy yell out as a scuffle between him and another of Damon’s men. He comes flying into the foyer landing by the steps. It’s then that I see Layla standing there. He had his hands on her skin. My beautiful baby’s skin was tainted by his hands. My blood boiled. How the fuck did he get up there? How did he know she was there?

  Another guard stepped out from a bedroom behind her and I shot him in the skull, his blood spraying out all over the wall. He slumped down.

  “Kill him!” Layla screamed and Jimmy shot up looking at me and then her, then back to me again just as a guard shot him in the shoulder. He stumbled back hissing out in pain, raised his gun toward the man that shot him he walked forward. The guy didn’t know what to do, he had no time to think or react or even shoot. Jimmy was emptying his clip into him as he walked. The guy fell back with each shot until his body fell completely forward as Jimmy’s gun drew empty. Pulling another from his waistband he took to the steps.

  “Stop, or I will fucking slice her throat from ear to fucking ear,” the guard says as Damon enters from the back of the foyer and toward Layla. The guard steps down two steps. Jimmy falls back in beside me.

  “I will be taking her,” Damon says walking up to Layla. “Still a little whore I see, my darling niece.” She leans forward and spits in his face.

  “Eat shit, Uncle,” she spits out.

  “Micha, shoot him!” She yells but I can’t. I won’t, not while some dude has a knife to her throat and Damon has a gun pointed at her stomach.

  “You should have stayed hidden, Riddler,” Damon says as his man applies more pressure to Layla’s neck, her face changing color fast.

  “Brother,” Jimmy seethes.

  “Wait,” I say to him my eyes never leaving Layla’s.

  “Kill him, Micha. Shoot him in the head,” she half-choked out. Damon’s fingers curl around her hair as she tries to thrash out from both their touches.

  “And you shouldn’t have left behind a boy with a vengeance all them years ago,” I bite out my hand moving to Jimmy’s arm, pulling him back as he was just about to rush the guard.

  “Wait.”

  “Ahhh, yes. That day was a wanderlust of blood and power, wasn’t it. Pity your mother couldn’t stomach the loss, not like you,” he laughs out sending a chill down my spine. I lost my fucking self at this man’s hands and now he’s joking about the death and destruction he left in his wake.

  “I always have death inside my pocket,” I say to him.

  “Ooo, is that another riddle, Riddler?” His eyes leave Layla’s and look at me. That’s just what I needed, his attention on me, so we can make our next move.

  He points the gun at my head.

  “You can try to kill me, Damon, but I won’t die. For I am death and you’re a dead-man walking,” I say as I pull my knife fast and launch it toward the guy whose grip around Layla’s neck has her turning purple, the life leaving her eyes. It lands directly in his eye. His hands drop straight away. Layla falls to her knees her hands going directly to her neck, holding it and gasping for breath to fill her burning lungs. The man drops where he stands, then starts tumbling down the stairs, dead with a knife protruding from his eye.

  Damon reaches for her, but he’s not fast enough. I shoot him in his knee cap, and he falls rolling down the stairs, stopping at my feet his gun pulled on me.

  “Go on, I fucking dare you to!” I yell out, my hands spread wide at my sides.

  “Go on, Damon! Fucking shoot!” My tone is challenging him.

  Jimmy leaps forward and manages to stop a collapsing Layla falling forward and down into the carnage, moments before her head would have spilt open on the marbled stairs.

  He picks her up like a doll, she looks like a small child in his arms. Her head is lolled backward; she must have fainted from lack of air to her lungs. I hope it wasn’t the vision of me, arms spread open calling for her uncle to shoot me, welcoming death. I’m not afraid to die. I welcome it. Well, I did. That was before Layla. Now it’s all different.

  “Fuck you, Walsh.” Ahhh, hearing my last name coming from his lips was magic, it gave me a power I hadn’t felt in a long time. He pulled the trigger. Click. His face slowly fell as the grin on mine got huge. Click. Click. Click. Rage blossomed over his expression, and he threw the gun at me. I dodged then reached down, grabbed his head and smashed it into the marble steps.

  “This is for my brother!” I yelled out, pure white rage consuming me. All the nights I had planned how his death would come. How I would do it. How much torture I would inflict was lost as their gurgling last moments flashed in my mind. As the cries and sobs of my mother attacked my heart.

  I kicked him once, twice, three times for good measure.

  “You should have died long ago,” I seethed out as I dragged him from the steps to the wall sitting his dazed, bleeding body against it. He was slumped down looking pathetic.

  “Remember this?” I showed him my ring. “Remember the meaning behind such rings?” I spat in his face while kicking his legs to wake him up. He was fading, blood pouring from the open gash on his forehead, and he began to cough on the blood.

  “Fuck you, Walsh. Your father deserved to die. You’re lucky I didn’t find ya mother.” His eyes met mine.

  “I would have raped her before slitting her damn throat also.” That there was the tipping point in all rational thinking. I pulled my gun and I shot him in his shoulder and then turning it to his dick, I shot that. His screams echoed round and round me, feeding my beast. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I pulled my second knife from my breast pocket. The same knife that he used all those years ago to slit my father’s throat.

  “Remember this?” I said to him, slapping his face with the cool blade. His eyes fluttered in pain as he looked at me.

  “You dumb bastard,” he said to me. “We’ll never stop hunting you. I have four people that will come for you, wipe you all out and still sell her.”

  “Oh, I disagree. I think you forget who I am, Damon. Where I came from and just how untouchable I am.”

  Moving around him I slip down behind him holding his head, so he could see Layla, knowing that I had her now. That I saved her from his dirty, toxic hands and greed. Jimmy had her placed on the ground sitting with his arms around her, holding her tight to him. The color in her face coming back as blueish-red bruises started to appear on her neck. Jimmy had his arm around Layla’s shoulder and with it, his gun pointed on Damon.

  “I have all you ever wanted and more. This is for my family. For Ian.”

  With that my knife, no, his knife slices through the flesh of his neck. Blood flows fast over my clenched knuckles as a feeling of closure washes over me. My head falls back on the wall. Shutting my eyes, I breathe in deep as his body goes slack in my grip. My knife drops as does his body.

  “Feicfidh mè go bhfuil tu sa solas saor in aisce anois mar gheal ar dhioghail mé do na h-a
namacha.”

  (I will find you in the light rest free now for I have avenged your souls.)

  THE END

  ALEISHA MAREE

  Aleisha Maree knew she was going to write... well, since forever.

  As soon as she could read, she wanted to be that escape for others.

  Words pulled her in and held her tight in a world that captivated your soul and took you on a journey.

  She crafts sensual, sexy, tantalizing stories that weave together her love for darkness, pure passion and most of all human emotions which dance on the cusp of your soul.

  She's from the South Island of New Zealand born and raised in a tiny but extraordinary village called Wakefield which holds so much more than her heart.

  She now lives in the North Island of New Zealand in another village called Wharepapa South with her husband and 6 kids on a dairy farm.

  When she's not consumed by those beautiful humans, she's knee-deep in writing, working on another work of art to captivate your soul and mind. To take you to the edge and back again.

  She's a dark soul and introvert who loves nature and water, is insanely in love with coffee and reading.

  She can always be found with her family with a book in her handbag and the wind in her hair.

  Just keep an eye out for all the loud crazy kids, and she will be like right there!

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