Open Wounds

by Camille Taylor

  ***

  The body fell to the floor, dead weight. A neat round hole in the forehead. Blood and brain matter had splashed across the plastic sheet in a macabre pattern. Wayne Burton stood staring down at the body with distaste as he holstered his weapon.

  “Well done, Wayne,” Coleani praised him. “Now get that disappointment out of my sight.”

  Wayne nodded, surveying the damage he’d just caused before bending over and wrapping the plastic sheet around the body. He had done this before, so many times that he barely had to think about it, the actions merely second nature.

  He had work to do tonight, and there was plenty of darkness left before the sun came up. Plenty of time to get rid of the body. He lifted it over his shoulder like a sack of flour, stopping only when he reached his car. He opened the trunk and placed the trash inside before driving to the local lookout. He dropped the body into the harbour without a second thought or a twinge of guilt.

  The kid had failed Coleani, and that was unacceptable. He was lucky to have gotten off easy, and the kid never saw it coming.

  As Wayne waited for the body to get swallowed up by the water, he thought about what Coleani had told him before the kid had shown up. Kellie Munroe was alive and stirring up trouble. Years ago, he hadn’t bothered to check the newspapers for details on the teen’s death. There had been no need to because she should’ve died. It was certainly not for lack of trying on his part.

  But she was nothing if not resilient. He had watched her from afar all those years ago. Nothing brought her down. No matter what life threw at her, she’d just soldiered on and persevered. Wayne remembered how hard she’d fought.

  What kind of woman was she today? Full of fire and self-importance, he assumed, just like twelve years ago. A slow one-sided smile crossed his face. He would enjoy seeing her again. Like a fine wine, she would only improve with age.

  A slow burn of anticipation spread throughout his body at the possibilities and he hardened in a painful rush. She’d always had that power over him, even as a teenager. He had often lain awake at night, wondering what it would be like to have her. His dreams had been nothing like reality.

  He remembered every detail of that night. How she’d fought him until he’d finally overpowered her. She had no idea how the fight had his blood burning hotly in his veins, making him want her all the more. He still couldn’t believe he’d missed. She should be dead. But he wasn’t concerned. His freedom was proof he’d defeated her. Anticipation ignited a blaze inside him. He would see her again, and he looked forward to it. He’d never been able to recreate that fire, and knew she was the ingredient that made it so fine.

  As a young man, he’d crushed on the blonde angel, fantasised about being with her, for her to look at him and see him. But that was all it would ever be—pure fantasy. She couldn’t appreciate his kind. When Coleani had ordered her to be put down, he’d been overjoyed.

  To taste her again would be bittersweet.

  This time, he would finish the job he’d started twelve years ago.

  He would make sure she died this time.

  Satisfaction filled him, knowing he had a second chance, and he would take the memory of her to his grave. He reminisced over her futile struggles beneath him and grinned savagely. She would fight him harder this time, and the warrior in him revelled at the idea of taming her.

  Soon, my dear, I will be with you again. But first I’ll let you wonder when and where I might show myself.

  Anticipation coursed through him as he planned to savour her fear.

  You’ll be frightened, won’t you? I’d like to see you frightened. There is nothing more intoxicating…

  He turned back to his waiting car, deciding to rectify the problem and make Coleani happy. Otherwise, he’d be the next body to go over the cliff and into the harbour.

  He didn’t plan on letting that happen. He’d worked too hard to gain the man’s trust and dependability. He was loyal to his master and owed him everything he was today. He wanted Coleani to announce him as heir to the old man’s empire.

  One day, he’d be running Coleani’s enterprise.

  But first…he would play a game with his angel. And then…he would kill her.

  Chapter 20

  Dick Coleani sat in the dark, a glass of two hundred dollar whisky in his hand. He took a sip, savouring it before swallowing, letting the honey-coloured liquid warm his stomach. If he drank enough, it would send him to a blissful place.

  He frowned as he thought of all the time and money wasted on Michael Lambert. He had been one of the smarter boys, the one with the highest possibility of return on his investment, and now it was all for nothing. Michael had failed him, just as so many others had, just as Carl Benedict and Kevin Butler had. It was such a waste.

  He couldn’t find good help anymore.

  He was getting old, but not so old that he could ignore such stupidity and greed. After all, he was the man who wrote the book on it. He couldn’t believe the gall Benedict and Butler had. He couldn’t comprehend how they’d believed they could get away with it.

  Surely, they didn’t think he’d simply allow them to poach on his territory. He didn’t get where he was by being soft and forgivable.

  He had worked hard, every day kissing the arse of every man higher than him, which in those days was just about everyone. He’d bided his time, taking notes and watching. Waiting for his time to shine.

  Kids today—no one respected their elders anymore. Coleani had, though. He’d taken what his mentor had given him and been happy with it—right up until the day he had killed him and taken over the business. It was a move no one had tried with him.

  Youngsters today didn’t have the balls to confront him. They didn’t have the courtesy to attempt to knock him off before they tried putting him out of business.

  He showed them. No one crossed Dick Coleani and lived to tell the tale.

  His thoughts shifted from his boys to an annoying blonde. She should have been taken care of a long time ago. He remembered the days when she had been a thorn in his side.

  How she’d walked around his neighbourhood with her nose in the air thinking she was better than everybody else, better than him. He had been petty, though, and had taken his rage out on her mother. Jules Munroe had been so easy to break and use. She had practically begged him to do it. All alone in the world with a daughter to raise. She’d fucked him the first chance she got for a steady pay cheque.

  It hadn’t taken long for the novelty to wear off and the need to punish the teenager again rose within him. Added to her constant interference, he decided it was time to penalise her.

  He had sent his best man to do the job. At the time, Wayne had been in his mid-twenties, Coleani’s right hand man since he’d reached adulthood. He’d recognised the man’s inner brutality from his youth, knowing he’d found an heir. A man he could trust. He hadn’t been disappointed, not once in the years since.

  Not until now.

  But he couldn’t blame Wayne entirely. The situation had been out of his control and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t accomplished the task Coleani had given him. Kellie had been sufficiently taken out of the picture. For the past twelve years, he had been free of her. Until Michael Lambert had inadvertently put Coleani back on her radar.

  And if he knew her at all, she wouldn’t be leaving him alone anytime soon. Kellie would be a pain in his arse until he could be rid of her. He knew she’d been investigating him, and practically declared war against him. He was prepared to meet her on the field of battle, but only one of them would walk away.

  He tightened his hands into fists. Things were quickly getting out of hand. He was losing control over everything he held dear. All his hard work was being flushed down the drain because of stupidity. It was time to rein in his boys.

  They were already making too many decisions on their own, taking stupid risks. Only today a group of his boys took it on themselves to lay siege on the LAC. Morons. Didn’t they have a fucking brain
between them? That was the last thing he needed—Harbour Bay Police parking outside his businesses.

  He needed to clean house. He couldn’t allow such free thinking among his people. They all needed to know who was boss and why. He wasn’t about to tolerate insubordination.

  He had worked too long and too hard to let everything fall apart now because his boys assumed they could do better than what he was offering.

  Years ago, no one would’ve dared defy him. Now he found he was constantly being tested. That fact did not sit well with him.

  He picked up the file Wayne had brought him earlier and studied the photos within.

  What a waste, he thought as he stared down at the pictures of the boys he’d taken a chance on, given opportunities to.

  He wasn’t a man who abided failure or disloyalty and very few got second chances. First they had to prove themselves.

  He took another swallow of the fine liquor as he waited for Wayne to return so that he could assign him another task.

  Chapter 21

  Alec Harris finished his glass of Scotch as he sat in the dark, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the front door, waiting for his daughter to come home. He ground his teeth in frustration. Sophie was already three hours past her curfew.

  He knew she did it purposely to piss him off. But he wasn’t in the mood for it, not tonight—not any night. He was already on edge after the assault on the LAC. The last thing he wanted was a battle of wills against his own daughter.

  Sophie was headstrong, stubborn, and wilful and knew how to push him to the limit in a matter of seconds. She had also inherited more than her fair share of sass from her mother. The things he loved about his wife he hated in his daughter and it was just his luck to have passed on his shortcomings to Sophie.

  He glanced at the small illuminated clock on the DVD player nearby and his blood boiled. If she had been a few years younger he would’ve tanned her hide for such insolence. She knew he wouldn’t tolerate her being late home. The cop in him only enforced the insecurities of the father.

  He knew full well what went on after dark and had no desire to see Sophie caught up in it. Why couldn’t she just see that he was doing his best to protect her by asking her to follow such simple rules as being home at ten o’clock?

  He’d sent Caitlyn to bed an hour and a half ago and his heart ached at the worried look on her face. She was always concerned when he and Sophie argued and knew without a doubt they would argue tonight. Neither of them were able to give an inch and both of them always stood toe to toe. He had a temper and Sophie was a match to his fuel.

  If only he could assure Caitlyn he wouldn’t lose his cool, but the honest man in him knew it was more than likely he would be lying. Just one more year and she’d be eighteen. She’d already told him she couldn’t wait to escape his rules, and that she wouldn’t heed them anymore.

  Alec knew she planned on leaving home the moment she became an adult. It was his fault. It irked him that even when he tried to meet her half-way she pushed him into grounding her for weeks—hell, even months.

  He would always worry about his daughter, no matter how old she got, no matter how capable she was. She was his little girl. Nothing could change that.

  The lock clicked nearby and he instantly became alert. His stomach twisted in knowledge of the confrontation about to take place.

  Sophie, the spitting image of her mother at the same age—all blue eyes and blonde hair—came through the front door, her hair cut severely at the shoulders on a jagged angle. She held her shoes in her hands and was trying not to make any noise.

  “A bit late, isn’t it?” Alec asked from the shadows.

  Sophie jumped. “I thought it was early, actually,” she countered and his restraint slipped.

  She always seemed to have a quip at the ready and always had to have the last word.

  “Don’t push me, girl,” he warned. “One of these days I’m going to bug your phone with my own GPS and show up wherever the hell you are and drag you home kicking and screaming.”

  She squared her shoulders, preparing herself for battle, and Alec inwardly sighed.

  “I’m not a child,” she declared defiantly.

  “You’re my child. You think I like waiting up for you? Do you think I love our little wars each night? Because I don’t, Sophie. I’m damn well tired of them.”

  “Well then, go to bed,” she said, as if that was the ultimate answer.

  “I wish I could. But as a parent I wouldn’t be able to relax until I knew you were home safe. Don’t you have any regard for me at all? Do you like knowing I’m worried about you?”

  “Of course not!” Sophie yelled and crossed her arms under her breasts in a defensive gesture. “But I can take care of myself. I’m not stupid and I’m always careful. I never accepts drinks or lifts from strangers. I never go out alone but God, Dad, you smother me with your rules.”

  “You’ve been drinking?”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “Of course that’s all you heard. Not alcohol, Dad, just soft drinks.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like for me, Soph. I’m a cop. I know what goes on out there. I’ve seen too many little girls never return home from a night out, too many parents broken hearted at having to identify their child’s remains at the morgue. Hell, even Harbour Bay isn’t safe anymore.”

  Why couldn’t he have had a nice, non-troublesome daughter like his goddaughter? The daughter of Caitlyn’s childhood friend, Bethany Bennett, was a few years older than Sophie and never gave her father grey hairs or mini heart-attacks. Not that her father would notice if she did. Bethany was very low on Dirk Bennett’s list of priorities.

  Poor kid. Alec had been surprised she had grown up in to the wonderful well-adjusted woman she was and not into some raging lunatic, or one of those girls who pierced everything in sight and had multi-coloured punk hair. While some might see her life as gifted, he knew it hadn’t always been pleasant.

  But Bethany was not his problem. Sophie was.

  “Many people go through life untouched,” she told him.

  “And many don’t.”

  “I wasn’t alone, okay? Colin was with me. I was perfectly safe.”

  “Colin? You’re still hanging around that lowlife, Soph? I thought you were smarter than that. That guy spells nothing but trouble and he’s far too old for you,” he lectured, knowing it would do no good and more than likely add to the damage.

  “He’s not too old for me. He’s only twenty-four.”

  “That’s too old,” Alec thundered and moved towards her with intent. “He hasn’t touched you has he? If he has—”

  “You’ll what? Put him up on statutory rape charges?”

  “Don’t test me, girl,” he snarled. Where she’d gotten her two-pronged tongue, he didn’t know. Not from him and certainly not from her mother.

  Tears burned in her eyes and Alec wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and hug her like he had when she was a little girl. They had been so happy then. But she wasn’t a little girl anymore and that was the problem.

  “God, I hate you. You’re such a—”

  “A bastard, I know, but I’m a bastard who loves you,” he said simply, and watched as the fight went out of her, leaving her limp.

  It was hard to fight someone who told you that they loved you. Tears leaked over onto her cheeks and she refused to look at him.

  “I love him, Daddy, and nothing you say will stop me. You can’t control me forever.”

  Alec shook his head, suddenly very weary. Discussions with Sophie always sapped his strength. “I don’t want to control you, sweetie, I just want to protect you.”

  She gave him a glare. “Well, I can’t tell the difference with you. I’m not a little girl. I’m almost an adult and you should trust me.”

  “You’re my daughter. I can’t help but worry about you. It’s part of my job, and I’m sorry, but I just don’t like Colin. There’s a quality about him that tells me he’s no good.”
>
  “You’ve only met him once.”

  “Once was enough, believe me. I have a sixth sense about men like that. He’s going to break your heart, sweetie, I just know it. What’s wrong with the guys I’ve introduced you to?”

  “What, those boys?” Sophie sneered. “The ones like Cade Watson who are too afraid to anger you by doing something you might not approve of? I don’t want boys, Daddy, I want a man who isn’t afraid of showing me a good time.”

  “They’re good kids. Kids I can trust my daughter with.”

  “Kids you can intimidate.” She sighed heavily. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Daddy, but I’m not sorry for staying out so late. I hate your restrictions and some days I really hate you. Some days I wish you weren’t my father.” She stormed up the stairs of their old Victorian home, leaving the knife twisting in his heart. A moment later, he heard her bedroom door slam shut.

  Alec sank down into his chair, feeling the fine trembling of his hands. It wasn’t anger that had elicited this response but a dead sense of grief. He had lost his daughter, had pushed her over the edge one too many times.

  “Alec?” Caitlyn’s sweet voice came to him in the darkness. He watched as her silhouette approached and he held out his hand. Caitlyn took it and allowed him to pull her into his lap.

  Alec hugged his wife tightly, pressing his face into her soft hair.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked softly, as she gently stroked his face.

  “No,” he replied, swallowing at the large lump in his throat. “I’ve messed up, Cait. She’s really lost to us. I tried to keep her safe but all I did was push her away.”

  Caitlyn’s arm wound around his neck and she planted a kiss on his forehead. “You did what you had to, Alec. No parent has this easy, and one day Sophie will realise we did what was best for her. We’re all too aware of what goes on after dark.”

  “I miss our little girl, Cait. The one who met me at the door with a smile on her face and her newest artwork creation. Now she can barely look at me and when she does it’s full of resentment and hate.”