Hunted

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Hunted Page 12

by Heather Atkinson


  He hung up and looked to Ryan. “That was Bruiser.”

  “That person who was talking too fast on the phone was Bruiser?” he said incredulously.

  “I know, it’s a first. He’s got something really important to tell me.”

  Ryan went cold. “Good or bad?”

  “Good. He said it was the best news ever.”

  “That’s a relief. Well I’ll let you get back to him then. Let me know if it’s anything you need any back-up with.”

  “I will. I’m a bit bloody worried actually, I’ve never heard Bruiser like that before. He was…happy. I hope he’s not on drugs.”

  Ryan was smiling to himself about Battler’s parting comment. Once upon a time when Battler and Bruiser were the Maguire’s most feared enforcers they’d been his deadliest enemies. He knew if the Maguires tried to kill him it would be the brothers who came for him. Luckily Frank had never given the order but ever since he’d always been very mistrustful of them, even when he’d brokered peace with Frank. Now here he was working alongside them and - most shockingly of all - he actually liked them and not just because Rachel adored them both either but because he’d found out that underneath the threatening exteriors they were actually decent blokes.

  He hesitated before getting into his Range Rover to look up and down the street. He had that odd sensation again. If he really was being stalked then whoever it was must be good if he couldn’t spot them. He thought of Mrs Tebbs’s telling them she’d had the same sensation after Daniel had disappeared. He hoped it wasn’t a sign of things to come.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Give me another,” said Jules, slamming her glass down on the bar.

  Warily the landlord of the pub Venom regularly frequented refilled the glass with vodka and pushed it towards her, not getting too close. He was aware of her reputation as a psycho but he’d always found her to be nothing but polite, sorting out any trouble that might crop up during opening hours, but now she looked like she could be the source of it. Someone had seriously pissed her off and she was spoiling for a fight. Actually it looked like she’d already had one, her knuckles cut and bruised.

  The rest of his customers had created a wide arc around her, giving her some space. However there were still some idiots, obviously not locals, who didn’t know who she was and they were stupid enough to start throwing her scowls. She hadn’t noticed yet, she was too lost in her own world and the crisis that had knocked her into this state, but soon enough she would and he dreaded to think what would happen. He stared at the sleeves of her leather jacket wondering if her knives were there and praying they weren’t. Murder wasn’t good for business.

  Jules picked up her drink and flung it down her neck, gulping it down greedily before turning to face the room, leaning back against the bar, muttering to herself. While her back was turned the landlord picked up the phone and called the only person he thought might be capable of calming her down.

  After quietly making his call the landlord hung up then cringed when he heard Venom shout out the dreaded words, “what the fuck are you looking at?”

  The room went deathly quiet, everyone taking a step back. The table of three men and one woman however didn’t get the hint.

  “What are we looking at?” laughed one of the men, a city-boy type wearing a sharp suit and far too much hair gel, greasy dark hair slicked over into the awful parody of the nineteen fifties style, doing nothing for his enormous nose. “Some freak in leather.”

  “Oy, that’s enough you,” the landlord yelled. “I seriously suggest you shut your mouth, I won’t have trouble in my pub.”

  “Then you shouldn’t let in biker slags like that,” continued city-boy. “I mean, look at the state of it.”

  His friends all laughed, as though what he’d said was the height of great wit. All of them failed to spot the rest of the customers backing away even further or quietly slipping out the door. They also failed to spot the danger in Jules’s eyes, the way every muscle in her body went rigid, her sheer hunger for violence. Their laughter pierced her brain, agitating the grief and pain eating her from the inside out. Hatred burned in her at the sight of their smug faces, their self assurance that they were better than her when they probably didn’t have half her brains.

  They all went abruptly silent when she grabbed the greasy hair of the big-nosed man and banged his head off the table. He released a groan and slid off his chair, landing in a heap on the floor. As she glared down at them the bravado drained right out of the remaining three.

  “Not so fucking mouthy now are you, you slick city wankers. Come on then if I’m just a biker slag, surely you three big brave people can take me on?” They lowered their heads even more, ignoring their friend groaning on the floor. She kicked him in the ribs. His pain eased her own very slightly so she kicked him again.

  “Come on then,” she yelled at the trio. “What are you waiting for?” Jules was aching for a fight and she was becoming furious that they wouldn’t oblige. To her disgust the woman actually had tears in her eyes. Enraged, she dragged one of the other men out of his chair and punched him three times hard in the face, the feel of his nose disintegrating beneath her fist like a soothing balm.

  “Someone call the police,” the woman cried, appalled.

  No one responded.

  The pub door opened and they all turned when a large figure entered. He took one look at the men on the floor, faces covered in blood, and sighed. “Jules, what the fuck are you doing?”

  “Go away Jax. This is nothing to do with you.”

  Everyone watched as Jackson Driscoll approached her fearlessly while she stood her ground, glaring up at him, daring him to interfere.

  “I think it’s time you went home,” he said gently.

  “I’m having a drink, or I was until these arseholes got all mouthy,” she said, gesturing to the table. “This tosspot called me a biker slag,” said Jules, indicating the man hauling himself up to a sitting position, a hand to his bust nose, neatly gelled hair ruined.

  Jax regarded the table with cold disdain. “What do they matter? They’re nothings.” He took her face in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

  “My dad died,” she whispered.

  The vulnerability and sheer youth in her eyes shocked Jax. He couldn’t get his head round what she was telling him, her dad had disappeared years ago. She’d given him hints during the course of their on-off relationship that he’d abused her but she’d refused to go into details. That would have to wait for now. It was vital he got her out of here and calmed her down.

  “Come on, let’s get you home,” he said, wrapping a gentle arm around her waist and leading her to the door, delighted when she rested her head on his shoulder.

  As the door closed behind them the pub erupted into eager chatter.

  The blond recovered herself and marched across to the bar. “Call the police, I want her done for what she did to my husband and brother.”

  “You must be joking love. You’ve really no idea who she is, do you?”

  “No, do enlighten me,” she said bad-temperedly, arrogant again now Jules had gone.

  “Do yourself a favour and forget all about it. The police won’t prosecute her anyway, she has powerful friends.”

  The blond swallowed hard, finally starting to realise they might have insulted the wrong person.

  “You’re lucky she left otherwise you’d all be bloody smears on my floor and I’d be trying to scrub you out of my lovely lino. Do yourself a favour in future love and don’t mouth off at strangers. You don’t know who you’re taking on.”

  “So you’re not going to call the police?” she said, arching an imperious eyebrow.

  “No because I don’t have a death wish and don’t look at them,” he added when she glanced around the room. “There’s not one person in here willing to testify against Venom. You want to push this then go home and do some research on the internet. When you find out who she is you’ll realise how right I am. Now get out. The lot
of you are barred.”

  “I don’t believe this,” she exclaimed to the room. “My boyfriend’s seriously assaulted and we’re treated like the criminals.”

  “You started it,” called a man from the across the room. “Venom was minding her own business until you started messing with her. You’re lucky she only hurt two of you.”

  “Yeah you posh, stuck-up pricks. Why don’t you do one?” called someone else.

  The four of them were forced to rush out of the pub when everyone started to jeer and pelt them with crisps, the barman yelling at them to stop it, they were making a mess of the place.

  Jules remained silent, lost in her own world as Jax drove her back to her flat. Obediently she got out of the car and let him lead her upstairs. He was amazed, he’d never known her so complaint.

  “Do you want me to come in? I guess that’ll be a yes,” he added when she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. Then her lips were on his, her hands everywhere and no matter how much he wanted to sink into that kiss he gently took her by the shoulders and pushed her back slightly. “Jules, you’re grieving.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, trying to press herself against him but he kept her at arm’s length.

  “No you’re not. I’ve never seen you like this before. Talk to me.”

  He was even more amazed when she burst into tears. He’d never seen her cry before, he hadn’t thought she was capable. “My dad’s dead. Leighton’s dead.”

  “But how? When? I thought he disappeared years ago.”

  She launched into a desperate explanation, telling him everything about her early life with the Parkers which was good, to the horror she’d endured on her thirteenth birthday and every day after that, setting Alice on fire, taking control of the Parker estate, finding Leighton again, keeping him locked up for two years, culminating in her aborted murder attempt and Mikey finishing him off. She talked frantically, clutching onto the front of his t-shirt with desperate, twitchy fingers.

  When she’d finished her knees buckled and a shocked Jax caught her and settled her onto the couch.

  “Jesus H Christ,” he breathed. No wonder she was so on edge. She couldn’t stop moving, both knees constantly jiggling, hands shaking, breathing so rapidly he was worried she was going to have a full-blown panic attack. He couldn’t believe this tale of horror that was her life. This woman, who he had been on the verge of falling in love with for years, was a complete fucking mess, he didn’t know people could lead such horrific lives outside books and films. He supposed it explained a lot of her wilder behaviour, which sometimes bordered on the completely mental.

  “You know it all now Jax,” she said, eyes red-rimmed and vulnerable. “I’m one huge fuck-up and just as I was afraid it would, Leighton’s death has made it worse. Run while you still can.”

  That’s what she’d expected him to do, leg it out the door never to be seen again, but instead he put his arm around her. “I’m not going to lie to you Jules, that’s the most fucked-up thing I’ve ever heard but I’m not going to run out and leave you on your own.”

  “I deserve to be alone,” she sobbed. “I’m a mess. No one should be let anywhere near me, I’m toxic.”

  “No you’re not. You just haven’t had a decent chance at life. Now Leighton’s gone the field is clear.”

  “Why do I feel so bad? I don’t understand. I’ve wanted that bastard dead for so long and now he is I can’t stop mourning him.”

  “Because you loved him once, before he became a monster.”

  “He was always a monster, I was just too stupid to see it.”

  “Grieve for him Jules, let it out or it’ll drive you mad. When you’re done you’ll feel better. Keeping it in because you think you should is the worst thing you can do.”

  Tears spilled down her face. “I can’t handle it. I thought I could take any amount of pain but this is too much. Even though he was evil and I had him locked up in a cage it was comforting to know he was still there. Now he’s not it’s like there’s a big, empty hole in my life and it scares me.”

  “That’s not a hole, it’s a fucking exorcism Jules but no matter how many times I say you’re better off without him you won’t believe me until you realise it yourself.”

  “Maybe. Fuck Jax, how can you still be here when you know what I’ve done? I kept a man imprisoned for two years.”

  “Because it explains why you are the way you are. Everything’s making sense.”

  She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight, pinning his own arms to his sides. “I’ve always been able to rely on you, you’re the only person in the world who’s never let me down.”

  Gently he extricated himself from her grip and wiped her tears from her face with his thumbs. “You look exhausted and a bit drunk. Why don’t you get some rest?”

  She let him lead her into the bedroom, sat obediently as he removed her boots and stripped her to her underwear then let him tuck her up in bed.

  “Stay with me, please,” she said, grasping his hand. “I can’t stand to be alone.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

  He removed his shoes, jeans and t-shirt and climbed in beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Jules nestled into him, surprised by how exhausted she was. For the first time in her life Jules went to bed with a man and didn’t have sex with him. It was nice.

  Jules was amazed to find Jax still in her bed the following morning, fast asleep. She lay beside him, watching him for a bit, delighted. It proved he truly cared about her and didn’t just want her for sex, he hadn’t made a single move last night and she appreciated that so much. For a few minutes she allowed herself to indulge and imagine what it would be like to live a normal life with a man, particularly with this man, the only one who had really proved himself to her. But it could never be. She would always be a lone wolf.

  Their conversation the previous night came back to her and she was furious with herself for telling him Mikey had murdered someone. She’d put Jax in danger. She knew she could trust him with this information, he wasn’t stupid, there was no way he was going to blab about it but Mikey might think the possibility of him knowing would be enough to earn him a death sentence. For a genius Jules thought she was pretty fucking stupid.

  The buzz of the front door leading into the flats made her heart stop beating. She just knew it was Mikey, no one else other than Jax had ever come to visit her. He’d called her dozens of times yesterday after she’d run off but she’d rejected every call before turning off her phone, unable to bear to speak to the man who’d killed Leighton.

  Quietly she hopped out of bed and hurried over to the monitor by the front door, which clearly showed Mikey at the main door downstairs, his brow furrowed in annoyance at being kept waiting.

  “Come on up,” she said curtly before buzzing him in. There was no choice, she had to face him and assure him she’d kept everything to herself, for Jax’s sake.

  She rushed back into the bedroom. “Jax,” she whispered, shaking him awake. “Wake up you numpty.”

  “Mmmm?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and stretching.

  “Listen to me. Mikey’s on his way up. He can’t know you’re here.”

  He pushed himself up on his elbows and frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because he’ll worry I blabbed to you about Leighton. Mikey can’t know that you know he murdered someone, it’s dangerous. Shit, I never should have told you, me and my big mouth. Just stay here and keep out of sight. I’ll get rid of him. Duck down behind the door.”

  “Why can’t I stay in bed?”

  Jules’s head snapped to the front door when there was a loud knock on it.

  “Because if he sees the door shut he’ll think you’re still here. Keep down and stay out of sight.” The knock at the door sent her pulse rate skyrocketing. “Hurry Jax. Please.”

  He slipped out of bed and scurried to the door, curling up on the floor behind it in just his underwear, sulking. He wasn’t the type of man to hide.


  Jules pulled on her skimpy black silk dressing gown that finished just a couple of inches below her bottom and tied it loosely, allowing a little cleavage and black bra to show. She was fully aware Mikey was attracted to her and hoped it would distract him. She took a moment to compose herself before opening the door.

  “Hello,” he said.

  Her feelings about Mikey killing Leighton were tempered by her desperate need for him not to realise Jax was there and that he knew everything. “Hello,” she quietly replied.

  “Can I come in?” he said, eyes unwillingly flicking to her exposed legs then up to her chest.

  She nodded and stood aside to allow him to enter, closing the door behind him.

  “How are you feeling?” he opened.

  She shrugged. “Okay.”

  “I don’t think you are. I heard you had some trouble in the Dog and Biscuit last night.”

  “It was nothing, just some tossers in suits.”

  “I believe Jackson Driscoll saved the day. He came in before things got even more violent and took you out of there.”

  Jules silently cursed that mouthy landlord. “Yeah. So?”

  “So, did you tell him anything?”

  “Oh yeah, I told him I tried to kill my dad, who I’d kept locked in a cage for two years, but I couldn’t do it properly so you had to do it for me.”

  “Alright, no need to be sarcastic.”

  “Well, it was a daft question.”

  Jules didn’t dare move or even breathe as he studied her carefully, then he began to wander around the room and she allowed herself to sag ever so slightly.

  Mikey peered around the room, attempting to judge whether a second person had been present recently. The door to Jules’s bedroom was wide open, the bed only slightly rumpled, no indication of a night spent indulging in frantic sex. She’d slept in there alone and there was no sign of anyone else.

  “So, what happened to Jackson?”

  “I think I freaked him out a bit. I was really angry and told him to get lost. He dumped me at the door and drove off.”

 

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