Loaded

by Max Henry

  “Fine. Just being clumsy.” She gave him a smile that could melt volcanic rock. “Carry on.” She laughed, waving her hand at them.

  “Anywho,” Trevor started. “He couldn’t confirm when it was for. Still working on that apparently.”

  “No problem. Stinky’s good for his word. You and me, fella—” He pointed at Trevor. “—have to work out how we’re goin’ to find her before she leaves.”

  Trevor nodded. “On to it, Son. Cased out the place she’d been at, and they didn’t know where she was. Apparently she owed two nights on a failed credit card, so they were equally as interested to know as we were.”

  “How are you going to find out where she went before she leaves?” Steph slid the steaks on the plates, and switched to the pot with the potatoes. “I mean there are so many places to stay around the city. Surely you two aren’t going to doorknock every one?”

  “Love,” he smiled. “You don’t have a clue how this stuff works, do ya?”

  She socked him one in the arm. “Have I had occasion to find out? No.”

  “We’ve got people who can hack the credit card records for the guy we know is sponsorin’ her stay. Failin’ that, they’ll track the phone, see if there are any reoccurring numbers.”

  “Normally,” Trevor added, “we would troll their social media sites, but given Sharon—”

  “Is that her name?”

  Pistol nodded. “I hate hearin’ it. Makes her seem so … human.”

  Steph hummed an agreement, and handed out the plates.

  “Anyway. Given Sharon was in prison for so long, it seems she’s still accustomed to life without them. We can’t find a single account linked to her known addresses, or aliases.”

  “She gets around by more than one name?” Steph raised her eyebrow as she pulled a seat at the table.

  “She has three.”

  “I’ll have a word to Derek on Friday.” Pistol sliced into his steak, and avoided Steph’s pointed stare.

  “At his son’s funeral?”

  “So?” he asked around a mouthful.

  “So, don’t you think you’ve been enough of an ass to him?”

  Trevor flicked his gaze between the two of them. He hadn’t got as far as telling the big guy about that little side-job yet, but Cutie couldn’t be blamed for saying anything. She wasn’t to know. “I gave Derek’s youngest a final goodbye the other day,” he explained.

  “What for?” Trevor sliced off a hunk of meat, and groaned as he chewed. “Perfect, Steph. Perfect.”

  “He sold information to the old bag. Reckons he was in on the spoils of her little endeavour.”

  “Was it worth a life?” Steph quizzed. She remained still with her fork poised halfway to her mouth, waiting on his answer.

  He eyed her for a moment, shocked she would seriously question if it were appropriate to kill Richard—especially after what he’d done to her. “Love, he had a full schedule of what ya do every day.”

  “Me?”

  “Aye. At first I thought he wanted you as collateral damage, but when ya told me … you know … I guess it was his completely his own agenda.”

  “Why?” Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. Learning for the first time a person had an agenda to kill you was always hard.

  “Some people find it easier to literally bury the secrets of their past than live with a chance old mistakes may resurface.”

  She pushed her plate away, and flexed her fingers on the table top. “So he’d kill me, in case I ever said anything?”

  “Love, it made sense to him.” He felt like utter shit telling her the details, but they’d made a promise—everything in the open now.

  “Why wouldn’t he have tried sooner?”

  Trevor snuck glances between the two of them, making efforts to appear engrossed in his meal. Pistol swiped a forkful of potato, and promptly placed the utensil on the unfinished plate. No surprise that his appetite had also subsided somewhat.

  “He may have, Love. I don’t know what he was thinkin’. All I know is ya don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

  She nodded, lost in thought. He felt inclined to reach out, rub her arm, caress her face—anything to draw her from the dark memories that no doubt played through her pretty head.

  “I got to get to work. Trevor, mate, can ya stick around tonight?” He nodded his head toward Steph, who was still away with the fairies.

  “Sure thing.” Trevor gave an awkward smile. One that said he didn’t envy the position Pistol was in one little bit.

  Jesus, he pitied his predicament. Every damn day there seemed to be something new to contend with. All he asked is that he could keep all the balls in the air long enough to get a handle on the situation. If he dropped one, the whole lot came tumbling down. Slippery slope, and all that jazz.

  He leant down, and kissed Steph gently on the temple. “I’ll see you after, Love. Try not to think about it all night, eh?”

  She snapped out of her daze long enough to give a half-hearted smile. “I won’t.”

  Wouldn’t take a lie detector to pick that one.

  They’d made so much progress together in such a short time; moving on from a girl under the thumb of oppressive friends, to the woman who would stand by his side through tough times. But he couldn’t shake the thought the progression wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Steph thought she was stronger, more independent, and more herself.

  Was she? Or was she simply on her way down in a spiral that would end with dark days in a frightening black hole for her? Whenever the day came, he’d be there to pick her up, keep her going.

  Nobody could stay strong forever.

  ***

  Steph jumped as the front door closed with a thud. She registered Pete saying he was off to work, but everything after that had faded into the background as she replayed the last few years of her life. How long had Richard been watching her? Had he ever tried to get to her before now? The thoughts left her wary of the present, and unaccounted for, dangers in her life.

  After all, where was Pete’s mum?

  “Ahem.”

  She looked up to see Trevor regard her with something that mixed pity with concern.

  “You okay, Lovely?”

  Wondering if I’ll die in a drive-by tomorrow, but other than that, I’m great. “I’ll keep.”

  “I don’t want to upset you any more than you already are, but I had something I needed to talk to you about while it’s just us here.”

  She tipped her head to the side, and frowned. “Me?”

  He nodded. “I don’t want Pistol knowing in case he crosses over the fine line he dances with sanity.”

  Pete wasn’t that unstable was he? Duh, he’s murdered people, Steph. Case, and point. “Am I stupid for thinking I’m completely safe with him?”

  Trevor shook his head. “Not at all.” He rose from the table, and deposited his cleared plate into the dishwasher. “You want a mug?”

  “If you’re making. Coffee, white with one please.”

  “Coming up.” He moved about the kitchen with a finesse that betrayed his size. “There are two types of thugs in the world. Me and Pete? We’re the rare type. Your common garden variety doesn’t have a conscience. He’ll hurt people, kill, maim, whatever the ticket calls for without so much as losing an hour of sleep. He’d do it if money wasn’t on the table. I’ve seen men lose the battle with balancing their life outside the job, with the shit they have to do on it. It ain’t pretty—especially when there’s a family involved.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Double that. A mind as untainted as yours can’t comprehend what one that’s lost the grasp of reality can conjure. Pete, and me? We have a heart. Neither of us have killed anyone for the sheer fun of it. We ain’t fucking hunters looking for the trophy—we’re purely doing a days work.”

  “Why do it though? If you don’t like it?”

  Trevor shrugged, and turned to face her while the water boiled. “I don’t like the dirty side, t
he execution of it. But I guess time in the cage got me conditioned to it, so it doesn’t affect me like it used to.”

  Cage? Was that some kind of slang for prison? “What do you mean by ‘time in the cage’?”

  “Boxing to the death, Lovely.”

  “Oh.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. Not my finest moment, but it got me the money I needed to keep my parents out of trouble.”

  With his chocolaty deep voice, Trevor managed to make death via illegal activity sound so poetic. “I hope they appreciated what you did, your parents.”

  He snorted. “My mother would keel over where she stood if she knew how I did it.”

  “What did you tell them, then?”

  “That I was stripping.”

  Steph laughed. “Truly? That’s so much better?”

  He shrugged. “At least it didn’t involve the chance I might not come out of the cage one night. If my mother had to live with that hanging over her head, she’d be grey before she knew it. I wouldn’t have her worry for me like that.”

  “So what do they think you do now?”

  “Security.”

  “Explains the secrecy I guess”

  “Atta girl. Now you’re thinking.” He turned back to the mugs on the opposite counter. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I got more news from Stinky.”

  “What kind of news?”

  “Predictable news. I knew it would happen, when I failed to check in that was. You see, since I’ve fallen off the grid with Murray—”

  “Who’s Murray?”

  “Pete’s old man. Well, at least, who he thought was his old man.”

  “He thought?” Her head buzzed trying to keep up.

  “His ma told him the other day that his old man wasn’t his birth father.”

  Why hadn’t he mentioned anything to her? Had he been too worried for her after the crap with Ivan? Steph felt the butterflies in her gut spring to life on an acridly warm breeze. She’d been such a burden on him that he hadn’t had the gumption to come to her when he must have been hurt. Unless he didn’t care? “Was he upset? To find out?”

  Trevor shook his head, and placed her coffee before her. “He’s always hated Murray, so I guess it was sweet relief in some way.”

  “Who was his real dad?”

  The muscles in his shoulders heaved with the breath he drew. “A toff named Alex. He thought the guy was his Uncle.”

  “Were they close?” She’d never heard him mentioned, but then, they hadn’t really mentioned much, had they?

  “You’d have to ask him. I don’t know much about it all.”

  Looked like a conversation for when Pete got home, then. “You said before you hadn’t been in touch with Murray. Was he the one who sent you over?”

  Trevor nodded. “Yeah. Clipped Pete’s ticket, or so he thought. But since I haven’t reported back, I’ve lost the job. He’s given it to a guy named Mickey-Six.”

  “Do I want to know why he’s called that?” She braced her head in her hands. Going to need to find the Advil after this.

  “Six fingers. Lost four to debts owed.”

  “A hit man, who knows how things go down, can’t see to pay his debts?” She laughed. “Can’t be a clever guy.”

  “You don’t have to be clever to know how to stop the living from breathing.”

  “True.” She shrugged a shoulder to her head. “So, let me get this straight. You lost the job, and now a crazy dude is on his way to finish Pete?”

  “Bang on.”

  How would they get past that hurdle?

  “When does he get here?” Although, what difference did it make? Other than catapulting her already racing heart toward a new record, knowing wouldn’t help Pete. She couldn’t fight a man who killed for a living. What good was she going to be with this problem?

  “Two weeks.”

  “Why such a long time? I mean do you guys have a waiting list, or something?”

  He chuckled. “He’s got to stick around for his daughter’s birthday before he flies out.”

  Steph regarded him with a quizzical arch of her brow. “His daughter’s birthday?” she deadpanned.

  “Uh-huh. The thug’s got a family. Hard to believe, I know. I can’t see how any woman would tolerate the muppet.”

  “Must be a hard woman.”

  “I’d say.”

  They both reflected on the conversation with subdued sips from their cups. “How much longer are you here?” she asked.

  Trevor shuddered a sigh, and turned the cup between his hands. “I leave day after tomorrow.”

  “Shit.” Pete would need help if he had a man hell-bent on finishing the job after him, and last she checked, guys the size of Trevor weren’t exactly dropping from the sky. “What will Pete do? He has to know. You can’t leave him in the dark if his life is at risk.”

  “I’m hoping he’ll never need to know. I’ve got a plan up here—” He tapped his head. “—that I’m working on. Need to make a few calls to set it in motion.”

  “Tell me.” Whatever his answer, she knew there wouldn’t be a single night’s sleep until she had an infallible way of ensuring Pete’s safety. Not that she doubted he could take care of himself. The guy had done so for the last decade or two. But when a man like Trevor was the first option to do a job, followed by a guy called Mickey-Six, then she could bet money on the fact the next man—if there was one—would be worse. How many brutes could Pete fight off before his luck ran out?

  “Look, Lovely. I know Pete has this thing where he’s going to keep you included in all his business, but I think you need to learn when to keep your nose clean.”

  “Look, Trevor. I know you think I should be all ‘innocent’, and ‘virtuous’ or some shit, but I think you should tell me what you plan on doing to keep a dangerous man away from Pete, and consequentially, out of my life.”

  “Touché.” He grinned.

  “Start talking.” She braced her chin on a hand, giving him her undivided attention.

  Trevor sighed in false exasperation, and reclined in the chair. “I have a mate who owes me a car. If I get him jacked up for my arrival, I can drive to Mickey’s home by night-fall.”

  “Are you going to try and reach him first; before he gets here?”

  “That’s the plan.” He stretched his arms over his head, the mass of muscle on his arms flexing. “After his daughter’s birthday party, of course.”

  “How generous of you.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not all bad.”

  No, he wasn’t. “You’re still going to rid a family of a father, and husband though.”

  “Which is exactly what he’s done many a time before. Goes around, comes around.” Trevor leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table top. “You need to bear in mind, that despite whatever he may be to those he holds dear, I’ll also be ridding the world of one sick son-of-a-bitch.”

  Which led her to the next thought—was this the kind of thing that would keep Trevor in the cycle of death he lived? One more job … “Do you ever think about what you’ll do after this?”

  “After when? Mickey’s dealt to?”

  “Not just that.” She shook her head. “I meant after you’ve had enough tracking down your ‘jobs’. Had enough killing people. Can you retire? Is that even possible? Surely when you know as much as you do, they wouldn’t just—“

  “You think too much.” He smiled, and pushed from the chair. “Finished?”

  “Yeah.” She held out her empty mug, and he took it from her with great care not to let their fingers touch.

  “How about we have a change of activity? Something a little more … uplifting?”

  “What do you suggest?” This should be interesting. What exactly did hit-men do to relax?

  “Fan of rom-com’s?”

  Steph shifted her legs to the far end of the couch to avoid Trevor who slumped further in his sleep. He’d got two-thirds of the way through the second movie before his yawning ceased, and the deep breaths too
k over. If she thought she had a shit-show of moving the massive guy, she might have hoisted him to bed. But he looked too peaceful to wake, so she’d simply spent the final scenes of the movie wriggling further to her left to give him room as he spread out in his slumber.

  The heroine, and hero in the film stood clinched, declaring their undying love for each other. The hero apologised for his stupid behaviour, and as predicted, the heroine forgave him without a second thought. If only life were that easy. How could the girl be so blind to the problems they’d face here on out? One apology didn’t wipe the slate, and send them running into the sunset through a field of sunflowers. The past had a funny way of catching up on people. Wasn’t Pete’s mother proof of that?

  Steph looked over at Trevor; his thick arms crossed over his chest, and a slight furrow in his brow making the task of sleeping appear to be such a chore for him. Was this how the future would be for her? Random visitors whose chosen line of profession wasn’t exactly the kind of thing she would want her kids to aspire to? Would you bring kids into this world? And if she did, would it be selfish of her to expect a kid to grow up in such a dangerous environment. Maybe not dangerous everyday, but when their father’s past came knocking, it would surely be more than their school-mates ever had to contend with.

  She shook her head at the enormity of the problems she faced. There were so many things to think about if she honestly thought a future with Pete was the way for her. Despite his complexities, there was an honest, big-hearted man inside of him. He was loyal, and always the first to help a friend; the kind of guy who’d give someone his last dollar before he saw them go hungry. But the little part of him that wasn’t so great—the polar opposite of what she loved about him—was the part that scared her. Could she trap that side of him without the risk of it breaking free? What would happen if he lost his hold on it? Especially if they did have a family by then …

  She’d had a lot of time to think while Trevor slept, and most of all, a lot of time to think about what they’d discussed after Pete left for work. Deep in her heart she trusted Trevor. After all, the guy had been allowed in the same house while they slept, and he hadn’t made a move to hurt either of them. He seemed utterly genuine when he said he didn’t want to harm Pete. But he was still a criminal. Steph’s gut argued with her head. Sure, the guy said he was heading back to Ireland to take care of Mickey, but why? He didn’t get anything out of it. So why would he risk himself to help Pete when he could just as easily walk away, and be done with it?