Raven

by Heather Atkinson

  Anger coursed through her as he took her back inside and settled her down on the couch in the lounge.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” she yelled.

  Before he could answer she slapped him across the face. Then she hit him again and again. She really wanted to punch him, make him hurt like she’d been hurting all the time he’d been away but she’d never been able to bring herself to do that to him. Not properly, it was always half-hearted.

  “Calm down,” he said, gently taking her wrists.

  “It’s been almost a year,” she cried, a tear sliding down her cheek. As usual when he was around her cool and calm evaporated, revealing the furnace boiling just below the surface.

  “I can explain,” he said in a soft, coaxing voice.

  “I don’t want your excuses,” she yelled. “I’m sick of them.”

  She slapped him so hard he was knocked sideways. But it took a lot more than that to keep down Aidan Gallagher and he quickly righted himself, this time taking her more firmly by the wrists.

  “Please don’t hit me again,” he said.

  “Hit you? I should kill you. Where have you been?”

  “Take it easy and I might be able to tell you. Besides, we can’t talk while you’re high.”

  “I’m sober enough to listen. You will tell me right now before I put a fucking bullet between your eyes.” She was screaming at him but Aidan had always affected her this way. Plus she was being engulfed by a tidal wave of raw emotion that she’d held back for a whole year, heightened by the mescaline.

  Aidan did the wise thing and pulled her into his arms. Raven struggled at first before giving up and holding onto him, burying her face in his shoulder as she let the tears fall.

  “God I’ve missed you,” he whispered into her hair, making her cry harder.

  “I thought you were dead,” she rasped.

  “I’m sorry sweetheart but I have my reasons.”

  That molten rage dissipated with her tears and she released him, sinking back into the couch, exhausted. Aidan plucked a tissue from the box on the coffee table and held it out to her. She took it from him and dabbed at her eyes. When he tried to take her hand, she snatched it away.

  “I want to explain,” he said. “It’s the least you deserve.”

  Her eyes flashed. “This had better be good.”

  “I got into some trouble, in Spain,” he began. “I took on a body guarding contract. My client was attacked and I shot dead the attacker. Turns out my client was a drugs and arms dealer and the man I shot was an undercover police officer.”

  “You idiot.”

  “Hey, I’m holding my hands up here, I should have done my research better before taking the contract. I had to disappear, I had the Spanish police looking for me.”

  “And you thought the best way to stay under the radar was to start a fight in a bar in Ibiza and get arrested by the very people you were trying to avoid?” She smiled humourlessly at the surprise in his eyes. “I have my contacts. I was glad to hear you’d been arrested, at least I knew you were still alive.”

  “I would have come home sooner but I couldn’t risk leading them back here. I started that fight in Ibiza on purpose, so I’d get arrested. They were closing in on me and it was the only way out. Fortunately only a few officers knew the man I killed was one of their own. An influential friend got me out of jail and kept the heat off me long enough to get out of Spain. I went to Belize, to make sure I wasn’t followed.” His eyes filled with vulnerability. “I needed somewhere with good memories.” He cleared his throat and the vulnerability vanished. “As soon as I knew it was safe, I came back here. I couldn’t risk leading them to you.”

  Raven had so many questions, however there was one that she was burning to ask. Technically it was the least important but it was driving her crazy. “This influential friend of yours in Spain, was it a man or a woman?”

  “Woman.”

  Raven’s eyes flared.

  “It’s not like that. She’s in her sixties for God’s sake. Her husband was the man I was protecting.”

  “I see,” she replied, feeling better. “And you’re sure you left that mess behind?”

  He nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “So you’re here because you need somewhere to lie low?” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

  “No. I came back because I missed my wife. I never intended to stay away for so long.”

  “Has there been anyone else? Any sex on a Spanish beach?” She barked the words at him but she couldn’t help it. The thought of him with anyone else drove her to near insanity.

  “No,” he said, taking her hand. “There’s only one woman I want.” His gaze flickered. “What about you?”

  “There was someone a couple of weeks ago.”

  The gentle look fell away and he released her hand. “What? You mean while I’ve been restraining myself, thinking of no one but my wife you’ve been tarting about Yorkshire? I had plenty of offers you know, I could have had sex if I’d wanted to but all I wanted was my wife, more fool me.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. It was good to see him upset for once. “Not Yorkshire. Devon actually.

  “Who?” he snarled.

  She drew out her reply, enjoying winding him up. “Jules Driscoll.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “You know her as Jules Maguire, which will soon be her name again because she’s divorcing her husband. She’s one of the Maguires in Manchester. She has a brother in Devon who needed some help.”

  “Oh, her,” he said with a shrug. “Who hasn’t slept with her? I must be the only one.”

  Aidan knew about Raven’s several dalliances with her fellow bounty hunter. As he understood they were just friends it had never bothered him. If Jules had been a man however, it would have been a very different matter.

  “And that’s it?” he said.

  “Yeah, unfortunately.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Do you think I enjoy being married to a man I barely see?”

  “It’s no fun for me either,” he retorted.

  “You don’t have to leave me.”

  “Yes I do,” he said gently, tracing his finger down her back to the scar from the bullet wound, that was hidden by the feathers tattooed there. “Bad things happen when we’re together too long.”

  Raven didn’t deny it because it was true.

  “I know,” she said in an exhausted voice, brushing back her hair. “But I’m so tired of being alone.”

  “You’re not alone anymore. I’m back now.”

  “For how long?”

  “For as long as I can.” He sighed and hung his head. “Until things start to go bad again.”

  The pain in his eyes was genuine. He didn’t like their situation any more than she did but neither of them were willing to take the first step towards getting a divorce.

  “I heard you’ve been having some trouble with someone stealing your contracts and damaging your reputation,” he said. “I’m here to help you sort it out.”

  Raven didn’t want him to see how grateful she was that she wouldn’t have to deal with this alone anymore but she genuinely was, so she just nodded.

  “You know who it is?”

  She explained everything Jeremy had told her, even showing him the casenotes she’d retrieved from the hospital.

  “Weird,” was all he said. “Have you a plan at least?”

  She nodded. “The ravens showed me.”

  Aidan didn’t think anything strange about this statement. Not only did he know about Raven’s journeys with mescaline but he sometimes travelled with her, only he was guided by a hawk, which closely resembled the one tattooed on the side of his neck.

  She hauled herself to her feet and stood there, swaying. “I need to get things moving.”

  He rose too. “Not yet you don’t. You’re still high.”

  “The longer I leave it the worse it’ll get.”

  “It’ll
be a sodding catastrophe if you tackle it in that state. You need to rest.”

  “I can never sleep when I’ve had mescaline, or have you forgotten already?”

  “Of course I haven’t forgotten and resting doesn’t necessarily mean sleeping, which is why I’m running you a hot bath and making you something to eat.”

  She blinked back her tears. Why did he have to be so amazing? His being nice to her would only make it even harder when he inevitably left her again. It was vital she stood firm against him. “I can run my bath and make myself something to eat, I do it all the time.”

  “Still the same stubborn Raven,” he said before sweeping her off her feet and carrying her down the hall.

  “I can walk you know,” she scowled.

  “I know you’re incredibly independent but I like doing things for you, I don’t often get the chance, so stop whinging, okay?”

  She lacked the energy for an argument so she let him carry her, although this time she refused to nestle into him.

  While he ran the bath, she lay back on the bed. The mescaline was starting to wear off but its grip was still strong and Aidan’s shock return had mixed up her high to the extent that she had no idea what she was feeling. The rage had ebbed away, leaving her feeling dazed and detached. As she studied the furniture in the room, flecks of light rippled and shimmered across it. The door opened, sending beams of light scattering about the room in a stunning display. Aidan himself was lit up dazzlingly, Raven gazing at him in wonder.

  “It seems the mescaline is still going strong,” he said. “Come on, arms up.”

  “Why?”

  “You can’t get in a bath fully clothed.”

  “I can undress myself.”

  “I want to do it.”

  “Tough. You can’t just waltz back in here when you feel like it and expect to start stripping me off.”

  “Fine, you do it then.”

  She fumbled with the bottom of her jumper, struggling to get a grip on it.

  “Want a hand yet?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

  “Fine,” she sighed, lifting her arms.

  After he’d pulled the jumper off over her head she stood up so he could remove the rest of her clothes, like she was a child. He carried her into the bathroom and gently placed her in the bath, the hot water making her skin tingle delightfully.

  Aidan picked up the sponge, dipped it into the water and gently dabbed at the cuts and bruises on her arms.

  “Did your rival do this to you?” he said.

  “Not just him,” she said in a soft, dreamy voice, enjoying being touched again, the sensation heightened by the mescaline. “Pitbull and his gang too.”

  “Pitbull?”

  “Shaved neo-Nazis,” she murmured, the wonderful physical sensations threatening to overwhelm her. “But Jeremy put them up to it.”

  “We’ll make him pay. Together.”

  He ran his fingers down her bare back, making her shiver. As ever the feel of the scars on her back left by the bullets that had pierced her body filled him with guilt. He was taken back to that time when she was bleeding and shaking in his arms, struggling to breathe. Whenever he was tempted to stay longer with her, that sickening memory was enough to make him move on.

  “What are you doing?” she said when he pressed his lips to her back.

  “What do you think?” he breathed in her ear before kissing her neck.

  Raven’s body had always responded forcefully to his and she was tempted to sink into his caresses, it had been so long since he’d touched her.

  “No,” she said when he cupped her breasts.

  Aidan groaned and released her. “Jesus Raven, it’s been a whole year for me.”

  “How do I know that for certain?”

  “Because I have never lied to you.”

  “So you say,” she replied with a dismissive wave.

  “It’s true. I’ve never cheated on you and I never would. I’m not like you and your women.”

  “Not women, just one woman, singular, the only woman I trust. She’s my friend.” He kissed her and she fell into the kiss before tearing her mouth from his. “So you came back for sex, is that it?”

  “Not just that but I was kind of hoping…”

  “That I’d welcome you back into my bed, just like that?”

  “It’s our bed. We chose it and bought it together.”

  “You never sleep in it so it’s not yours.”

  This was the same old dance they went through every time he returned, Raven determined to resist him but inevitably she would cave in. She couldn’t fight what was between them, it was too powerful but her pride required she made a cursory attempt.

  Instead he picked up the sponge and washed her hair, the feeling of water trickling down her body making her gasp and she wished the mescaline would hurry up and wear off.

  “You’re still so beautiful,” he said.

  “Did you think I would have gone to seed because you weren’t here?”

  “No but you always astound me.”

  “The water’s going cold,” she said, getting to her feet when he tried to kiss her. “Not again,” she sighed when he lifted her out of the bath.

  “No,” he said, refusing to let go when she writhed in his arms, naked and dripping wet. “Grab that towel,” he added, nodding at the large fluffy blue towel hanging over the rail.

  She snatched up the towel, pulling it around her. He carried her into the bedroom, placed her on the bed, took the towel off her and began to dry her. Raven was by now resigned to his ministrations and let him get on with it.

  “I need something to eat,” she said when he reached out to stroke her skin.

  With a grunt he screwed up his hand, turned his back on her, dragged in two deep breaths and stomped out of the room.

  “One nil to me,” she said, getting to her feet and pulling on her vest and shorts, followed by her dressing gown, towel-drying her hair.

  As she walked to the door, her attention was drawn back to the dressing table by a loud craw.

  A huge raven sat on top of her wardrobe, staring at her, wings hunched. She blinked and the hallucination vanished.

  CHAPTER 17

  Aidan was a very basic cook and when she sat at the kitchen table he dumped a pile of pancakes before her. He took the seat opposite her and tucked into his own pancakes, cramming the food into his mouth.

  “When was the last time you ate a proper meal?” she said.

  He shrugged. “Dunno. Four, maybe five days.”

  “You should take better care of yourself.”

  He mumbled something inaudible before stuffing more pancakes into his mouth.

  “At least you’re still alive,” she added, putting down her fork and taking a sip of the tea he’d made, unable to stomach the food. The mescaline combined with the shock of his return had knocked the appetite right out of her.

  “That’s what I was concentrating on,” he said before shovelling more food into his mouth. Watching him so frantically eating softened her heart towards him. Clearly his time away hadn’t been fun.

  “You not having those?” he said, indicating her pancakes with his knife.

  “I’m not hungry,” she said, pushing the plate towards him.

  “You need to eat. I need you thinking straight if we’re going to come up with a plan.”

  “I can’t eat on the mescaline, it makes me feel sick. You have them.”

  He hesitated before tipping the lot onto his plate and digging in.

  Raven sipped her tea as she watched him eat. It was so nice to be sat here with him here in their home. Usually when they were together things got so crazy that peace seemed like a distant dream.

  “Better?” she said when he’d demolished the second lot of pancakes.

  He nodded and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

  “You look exhausted,” she said. “You need to sleep.”

  “I’ll sleep when we’ve come up wit
h a plan.”

  “I told you, I already have a plan. The ravens showed me.”

  “Then let’s discuss that.”

  “After you’ve had some sleep,” she said. “You’re dead on your feet. We can’t do anything until the morning anyway.”

  “Yeah, alright,” he yawned. His eyes sparkled. “Come to bed with me.”

  “No and you can sleep in the spare room.”

  “I’m sleeping in our bed. It’s where I belong.”

  “Who says you belong there anymore?”

  “This is my home. That will never change, no matter how long I stay away.” He leaned across the table to take her hand. “And if you want to keep me out of our bed you’ll have to do it by force.”

  Raven wasn’t about to fall for that one. If she tried to get physical with him they’d only end up having sex, which was his plan. “Have it your own way,” she said. “I’ll sleep in the spare room.”

  “Dammit Raven.”

  “You don’t like it, go sleep on the moor.”

  He shoved back his chair, scraping it across the terracotta tiles and shot to his feet. “Fine,” he barked before stomping out of the room, the slam of the bedroom door following.

  Raven took her tea into the lounge and curled up in the rocking chair, looking out across the moor, sitting in the dark with the lights off. Idly she wondered if Aidan was really in the bedroom. What if he was still abroad and his return had all been part of the mescaline trip?

  She wandered back into the kitchen, reassured by the sight of the two empty plates still sitting on the kitchen table and his muddy boots by the back door. She dumped the plates in the sink along with her empty mug and decided to go to bed. The mescaline had worn off, leaving her feeling drained.

  She hesitated by her bedroom door, which had been left slightly ajar. Aidan was sprawled on his front in just his boxers, out for the count, the exhaustion finally taking over. She was unable to prevent herself from admiring that muscular body, which was covered in tattoos. For a moment she was strongly tempted to join him, to quietly curl up beside him and feel his warmth again. The time they had together was so rare and precious, was it stupid of her to waste it?