Hunted

by Heather Atkinson

  “I thought he was soppy over you.”

  “Was being the operative word. You can only push someone so far and Jax has his pride.”

  “So he knows nothing?”

  She sighed in irritation. “He knows nothing. For fuck’s sake, I’m not stupid.”

  “Alright, take it easy,” he said, holding up his hands. “I thought you’d be pissed off with me after what I did.”

  “I am. I’m just hiding it well.”

  “It had to be done, surely you see that?”

  “I do but I didn’t expect you to barge in and do it for me. You had no right.”

  “Your actions could have brought us all down. I did it for the family.”

  “He was my family,” she exclaimed, hating the tears that now came so easily to her. After so many years of not crying, of repressing it and keeping it all in, now it was on the loose she couldn’t control it. She turned her back on him and wiped her eyes but more tears welled up.

  “Better to do it quickly and smoothly. Was your way better, feeding him bits of poison, making aborted attempts at stabbing him? A long, slow torture lasting years. Was that really better than how I did it?”

  Furiously she shook her head. “It should have been me, it was my revenge.”

  “You had years of revenge on him. It’s over now and we need to move on. I want you to see Cassandra.”

  “I can’t tell her.”

  “Course not, even if it is supposed to be confidential. All you need to say is that he died. She can help you move on.”

  It was the last thing Jules wanted to do but she was willing to agree just to get him out of the flat. “Okay, I will.”

  “You caved in easily,” he said suspiciously.

  “For years I’ve been a fuck-up and I’m sick of it. I have to get myself together if I’m going to be any use to you.”

  “I don’t know if I can trust you anymore Jules.”

  “What?” she spat.

  “That was one hell of a secret to keep from me. You keeping any more people locked up in cellars?”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Do not speak to me like that,” he thundered. “I’m starting to think I made a mistake bringing you back here. Was Ryan right?”

  “No,” she yelled in his face. “You need me.”

  “I’ve managed pretty well without you so far.”

  “If it wasn’t for me Mark Cameron would have told you to shove your offer up your arse and I tracked down Katia when you didn’t have a bloody clue where she was. What are you smiling at?”

  “That’s better. You sound like your old self.”

  “Isn’t that a bad thing? I thought you didn’t like the old me,” she barked, her temper threatening to get away from her.

  “Actually I’m starting to miss her. You didn’t see what you became in that cellar.”

  This threw her. “What do you mean?”

  “You turned into a kid again Jules, a scared little kid who didn’t want her daddy to die. That girl is no use to me but the woman is. So, which are you?” He smiled. “You look like you want to punch me. Good.”

  “I suggest you leave before I do.”

  “You’ve got an appointment booked with Cassandra this morning at half ten. If you don’t go you’re out. No more chances. You’re walking a fucking tightrope right now lady but I won’t kill you, I’ll have you locked up in a loony bin. I’ve been there myself so I know how bad they are. It’s last chance saloon Jules. You’d better pray you pull yourself together and quick.” Mikey hoped he was doing the right thing. He’d thought a short, sharp shock would be more effective than mollycoddling her. If he was wrong it would blow up in his face. The tops of her breasts were visible beneath the dressing gown and the surge of lust he experienced infuriated him, causing him to aim his anger at her even more. “You’re tough but you wouldn’t last five minutes in one of those places. I don’t want to do this to you Jules but I will if I have to. Get it together,” he yelled in her face before stalking for the door.

  “Arsehole,” Jules muttered after he’d gone.

  She looked out of the window just to make sure he really was leaving and waited until she saw him making his way back to his car. He looked up at her and she stared down at him, willing him to leave.

  Only when Mikey’s car had disappeared did she rush into the bedroom to find Jax still curled up on the floor, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

  “I’m so sorry about that. Are you okay?” she said, kneeling beside him.

  “Can I get up now?”

  She nodded.

  He stood and stretched, muscles popping out everywhere. “I heard what he said to you,” he said angrily. “He’s a bastard.”

  “Don’t be too hard, he’s protecting himself and his family. I’d do the same in his position.”

  “He said he’d have you locked up.”

  “He won’t. He’s just trying to shit me up. I think he bought it anyway. You’re safe.”

  It was the first time she’d intimated that she even cared about him and he liked it. Finally she’d let him near the real woman underneath all the spikes that made up the persona of Venom. This was the real Jules and he liked her. He’d always known deep down she was nice.

  “I didn’t know you cared,” he said.

  “Course I do you big div.”

  She nudged him with her elbow, her smile teasing. He thought it was good to see her smile again.

  “Do you want to go to bed?” he said.

  “You still want me?”

  “More than ever. You make sense to me now.”

  She gave him a coy smile. “If we do it changes nothing. We don’t have a relationship beyond friends.” She hated herself even more when he winced. “I’m doing this for you Jax, you deserve better than me.”

  He yanked her against him, untied her dressing gown and pushed it off her shoulders. “One day you’ll realise how wrong you are.”

  “No, I won’t,” she breathed as he kissed her neck, sliding her hands up and down that magnificent body.

  His mouth clamped down over hers and his fingers trailed over her breasts, making her whimper and grind her body against his.

  “We’ll see,” was all he said before pushing her back onto the bed. “But I’m not going to strangle you. I know it turns you on but I don’t like doing it.”

  “I don’t need you to do it anymore,” she said, realising she meant it.

  CHAPTER 15

  The fists pummelling Rachel were made of iron and there was nothing she could do to stop them. Those hands produced a knife and used it to slash at her. She staggered about, attempting to remain upright while the onslaught continued, a deep voice roaring vile words of hate, a voice she had once loved and listened to. But she couldn’t stand up to those fists anymore and suddenly she was on the floor. Something cold was pressed to her throat.

  “This is for Danny,” hissed the voice.

  Rachel woke with a jolt, her hand flying to her mouth to stop herself from releasing the scream that had built up inside her. She’d been free of the nightmares for a couple of months and she couldn’t understand why they’d returned now. The only explanation was the body under the annex. It had brought back the bad memories.

  She hadn’t disturbed Ryan, he was still asleep, lying on his back. Somehow he managed to look elegant even when he was asleep, stretched out regally, one arm above his head, the other resting on his chest. She curled up against his warmth while her heart slowed and the remnants of the dream fell away. She was at home, her family were safe and Alex Maguire was dead. Everything was fine. She kissed Ryan’s cheek and nuzzled her face into his hair. Better then fine actually.

  As she was soaked with sweat after the nightmare she quietly got up and tiptoed into the en-suite shower. It was only half five in the morning but there was no way she’d get back to sleep now. The hot stream revived her, as though it was washing Alex away and she felt much better. She remained in the shower for a little
longer than usual, enjoying the warm water caressing her body. This stalemate she was locked in with Ryan over his beard was torture. Her sex drive was as high as his and she was desperately wishing she’d never issued that ultimatum, it had been stupid and stubborn. To her he was just as gorgeous with the beard as he was without - even if it did rasp against her skin - but she was a proud woman and would not allow herself to backtrack. But her body was suffering. She hoped the physical activity she was going to undertake today would take her mind off it. They were finally moving back into their real home after weeks in limbo. Dead bodies aside, they were all excited. The gruesome find was not spoiling this for them.

  Ryan was stirring when she returned to the bedroom wrapped in just a towel. He laid on his side to watch as she removed the towel and sat purposefully naked before her dressing table mirror to dry her hair.

  “I know what you’re trying to do,” he said.

  “And what’s that?” she replied, running a comb through her hair.

  “You’re trying to lead me into temptation with your magnificent nakedness but it won’t work.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “Then why does it look like there’s a tent pole under the duvet?”

  He looked down at the large lump his own body was making. “My mind is stronger than my weak, treacherous flesh.”

  “Doesn’t look very weak to me sweetheart,” she said, her reflection in the mirror winking at him.

  He took one last longing look at her before pushing the duvet aside and getting to his feet. “I’m going for another cold shower.”

  “You could just have a shave, then you could enjoy a nice hot bed with me instead.”

  “Temptress,” he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

  As the door closed behind him Rachel released a groan of frustration. When was he going to give in? But then again, surrender wasn’t in his nature.

  She’d just finished drying and straightening her hair when the bathroom door opened and Ryan emerged, naked except for a towel around his waist, his hard, powerful torso glistening with water. She watched him through her mirror as he crossed the room to the wardrobe, gripping the handle of her hairbrush tightly when he raised his arms to open the doors, the muscles of his back popping out.

  “Sorry, what was that?” he said casually when she released a small whimper of desire.

  “Nothing,” she said, grinding her teeth together.

  He peered at her over his shoulder and smiled. “Rachel, you’ve gone all red. Is something wrong?”

  Bastard. “No, I’m fine.”

  “You look a little tense.”

  She dragged her eyes off him, got to her feet as nonchalantly as she could and walked to her own wardrobe. She’d get him to give in yet.

  Rachel selected a pair of black silk panties and matching bra. After donning them she sat down on the edge of the bed to roll on her stockings, taking her time, especially over straightening the lace tops. She looked up at Ryan, whose eyes were locked on her. “You’re the one who looks tense now.”

  “No, not at all,” he said before turning back to his wardrobe, studying his clothes thoughtfully.

  Rachel reclined back on the bed, showing her body off to its fullest but he wasn’t paying her any attention.

  “I think I’ll wear this today,” he said, pulling a suit out of the wardrobe.

  Oh no she groaned inwardly. He’d selected that suit, the one that meant she couldn’t keep her hands off him. He’d worn it to Tracey’s fiftieth birthday party and she’d been all over him all night. “You can’t wear that to move house in, you’ll ruin it,” she said weakly.

  She watched as he donned the steel grey shirt, the expensive, tailored material draping beautifully over those powerful shoulders. He pulled on the grey trousers next, the shirt still hanging open to reveal the beautiful honed lines of his stomach pointing downwards to the delights below, disappearing beyond the waistband of the trousers. As he elegantly adjusted the cuff of one sleeve his eyes caught hers and she was paralysed by them. The grey of the suit matched his eyes so perfectly that it only highlighted them even more, bringing them out in astonishing clarity. The effect to her was a physical representation of Ryan’s entire personality - alpha, strong and so very achingly masculine. She couldn’t take it any longer.

  Rachel leapt up off the bed and kissed him hard, not caring that the beard tickled her face.

  “Are you giving in?” he breathed into her hair.

  “Yes, very willingly,” she panted, pushing the shirt off his shoulders, feeling better already just for touching his bare skin. “I don’t care about the bloody beard. Just fuck me.”

  “With pleasure Ma’am,” he said picking her up and throwing her back on the bed.

  “Jules, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong,” coaxed Cassandra.

  Jules had been sat in her office for twenty minutes and still hadn’t got to the point. She didn’t want to talk about it but knew she had to if she was ever to redeem herself.

  She took a deep breath, focusing on her boots as she finally spat the words out. “My dad died.”

  “Leighton?”

  Jules nodded.

  “How does that make you feel?”

  Jules was relieved she hadn’t asked how he’d died. “Sad and I don’t want to feel sad. I want to dance on his grave.”

  “Remember what I said. You loved him once, you had a real relationship.”

  “Stop it. You make it sound like a good thing.”

  “It was once, to you. Did you love him?”

  Angrily Jules wiped the tears from her eyes and focused on her hands. She gave a small nod, frantically picking at her nails.

  “Let me tell you something about grief Jules,” said Cassandra, removing her glasses. “It’s a cancer and if you don’t cut it out it will spread and infect every part of you.”

  “How do I cut it out?”

  “By releasing it. Grieve, cry, shout, do whatever you do that makes you feel better. Within reason. Do not go hitting someone, that won’t help.”

  “It would make me feel better.”

  “Only very briefly. It would have no long term benefits.”

  “What if I really didn’t like the person I hit, like the person who killed him?” Jules realised what she’d said and turned pale. “He was killed abroad,” she hastily added. “Stabbed during a mugging.” She could tell Cassandra didn’t believe her and why should she? It was a weak lie and she was an expert at reading people.

  Cassandra however was more than willing to go along with it. She didn’t want to know the how’s or why’s, it was too dangerous. She had no illusions when it came to her clients. “Did the police catch them?”

  “No.”

  “Then I think it’s best they’re abroad, save you going on a vendetta. No hitting people, full stop. It’s for your own good. You’ll be fine Jules, just have a bit more belief in yourself. Maybe now Leighton’s gone you can finally start moving on. There’s nothing tying you to the past anymore.”

  Jules looked to her hopefully. “That would be amazing,” she said, overwhelmed by the prospect. Her thoughts immediately leapt to Jax. “There’s a man,” she began a little coyly. “We’ve known each other for a few years and he wants to be with me because he likes me for me. I don’t know why, he should probably come to you for some treatment. I always said no because I thought I’d drag him down. He’s a really nice bloke - sweet, handsome, successful. He deserves better than me.”

  “You see what I mean about thinking more of yourself? Why don’t you think you’re good enough for him?”

  “Because I’m such a screwed up mess. My alter ego is called Venom because that’s what I am. Poisonous.”

  “Do you want to be with him?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, shifting in her seat. “I really like him.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “No but only because I won’t let mysel
f. I think maybe I could,” she said uncertainly.

  “I wouldn’t recommend getting involved in a serious relationship until you’ve recovered from Leighton’s death. You need to concentrate on getting yourself mentally healthy first, which you will, I’ve no doubt. Once you’ve done that and you’ve exorcised your demons then you can think about a relationship. You’re not poison Jules, you’ve just had a lot more trauma to deal with from a very early age than most people have to face their entire lives. Bear that in mind. Are you alright?” she said, concerned when Jules put a hand to her chest, seemingly on the verge of hyperventilating.

  “It’s feels like I can breathe easier,” she smiled.

  “That’s definitely a good sign. A weight’s been lifted off you. Deal with what Leighton’s death means to you then you’ll be able to put it behind you and face the future. Whether that’s with or without - Jax is it?”

  Jules nodded.

  “With or without him it will be your choice, you won’t be driven to a decision by your demons and neuroses.”

  “Thank you Cassandra. I really mean that. For the first time in years I don’t feel like I’m going mad.”

  “You’re not, far from it.”

  “I’m opening a tattoo parlour.”

  “That’s wonderful news. A project like that will be good for focusing your mind.”

  “I’m looking forward to getting stuck in. Why don’t you come along? For you any tattoo free. I’m very good.”

  “I’ve no doubt you are but a tattoo isn’t really my thing. I hate needles.”

  “How about the girlfriend then?”

  “That’s very kind of you Jules. We’ll see. That’s our session over for one day. Will I see you next week?”

  “Yeah, alright then,” she smiled.

  Jules walked out of there finally feeling like a real human being. Yes, there were scars and there always would be, but finally she had learned to accept them.

  Rachel collapsed onto the couch with a glass of wine, exhausted but happy. The move had gone well and they were finally back home. Not even Daniel Tebb’s dead body could put a dampener on their high spirits. This was where they belonged and they were glad to be back. She had feared the body would unnerve Leah but she seemed happy enough, had been delighted by the pool they’d put in and that Sophia would be coming back tomorrow. All three children were tucked up in their brand new beds, exhausted after their busy day.