by Sam Crescent
Catherine gasped, her eyes overflowing with the tears that she’d managed to contain earlier. She finally understood everything and knew that Cyril needed to be stopped.
As she was about to answer, a bullet penetrated the wooden door, followed by the sound of men outside, yelling out warnings.
“Get down!” Lance shouted and pushed her to the floor as a spray of bullets dotted the door.
The noise was loud and scary. Catherine tried to contain her screams, but it took a hand over her mouth to dull the sound.
“On three, we must move. Trust me, Catherine, I’ll keep you safe.”
No longer having a choice, she listened to his count.
“One…two…three!” They stood up and ran for the opposite door. “We’ve got to get out.”
She watched him slam the door shut and lock it. He went straight to the window.
“No! Even from here I can see we’re on one of the top floors. There’s no way we’ll make it out alive.” Catherine screamed as more shots were fired, and she covered her ears to try to keep the noise out. Please be a dream, please be a dream, she chanted over and over again in her mind.
“Praying will get us nowhere but shot.” Lance took her arm and tugged her towards the open window. “We need to climb down the fire escape.”
Should I mention now I’m afraid of heights?
He pulled her out and a gust of wind had her holding on to the railing. Near the furthest window, the drop-down stairs would lead them to ground. Catherine closed her eyes and attempted to count to ten to calm her nerves.
“No more counting!” He forced her down the steps.
“I can’t, I can’t!” she cried but he forced her to go, regardless of her struggles. Finally she got a firm grip and wouldn’t budge.
“Do you want to die? Is that it?” His anger was like a slap across the face.
Catherine shook her head. She couldn’t open her eyes. “I’m afraid of heights. I can’t do this.” She was panting and sweating even though the temperature was near freezing.
Their breathing steamed the air around them.
“Look at me, Catherine. I’m not going to die on a fire escape, and Sidney wouldn’t want you to die this way, either. So what do you say we dodge a few more bullets and get the fuck out of here?”
As speeches went, it was the worst one she’d ever heard, but, with bullets intended for them not far away, she could only admire him for attempting to drum up some encouragement.
They went down the fire escape and Catherine was doing all right until the first bullet ricocheted off the stairwell just above them.
She shrieked, and Lance yanked her round the waist, moving faster than anything she’d ever seen.
“Get them!” she heard. Lance yanked her this way and that while bullets pelted down at them. None hit, and when they were at the bottom—mercifully at the bottom—they ran. Lance took her hand and together they kept moving. The heels that had been put on her were painful and she was slowing them both down.
Just when she was about to have to quit running, a car drew alongside them. The window lowered. Catherine couldn’t see the person inside. Her entire body was shaking with nerves.
“Well, you never do anything by half measures, do you, Lance,” a man said, laughing.
Lance, panting, grabbed the side of the car. “Please tell me this is for us to get to safety?” He curved his hand round her waist and brought her up against him.
“And who is this tasty morsel of goodness?”
Catherine shivered and turned away in distaste to look for the men who’d been firing at them.
“For God’s sake, Ben, now is not the time to be testing God’s will. Now are you here for us? Because, if not, bloody well shoot us.”
Chapter Four
Lance was in no mood for Ben’s games. Out of all the endings he could have thought possible, being taken out like animals hadn’t been on his list. He held Catherine, who was shaking uncontrollably. In only a cheap, slinky dress, she looked like she’d catch her death in the cold December air.
He glanced down the street, thankful they weren’t being followed, but he imagined it would only be a matter of time.
“Get in.”
Lance piled Catherine into the car without even bothering to second-guess the reason Ben was here and willing to help.
“We don’t know him,” she whispered in his ear.
If he hadn’t been holding her, Lance would have believed she was handling herself really well. However, her nervous tone revealed otherwise.
“We can trust him.” Not entirely believing what he’d just said, Lance still settled them into the car, then they were shooting away through the London streets.
It had been over three years since he’d last seen Ben, and the other man looked different. There was none of the softness of the playful friend he’d known, just the hard shell of a man who had fallen on hard times.
“What brings you here?” he asked, while Catherine pulled away, trying to push her dress down her legs but only succeeding in exposing more of her full breasts. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“You’ve missed a lot, mate. In the last hour alone, while you sat in your fancy penthouse suite, Cyril Woods put a price tag on your head. Dead or alive—he doesn’t care. He wants you gone. I got the word from a contact.”
“Is that what you’ve gone back to? The life of a bounty hunter?”
“Please. I wouldn’t kill a friend. Besides, we both have the same mission in mind. The death of Cyril Woods. I want him gone. I take it that’s Sid’s sister?”
“Why is it everyone knows my sister?” Catherine snapped, evidently coming to attention at the mention of her sister. “She was one of the dozens of whores employed by Cyril. And, while we’re all discussing this, where the hell are we going?”
“All in good time, princess,” Ben answered just as a car came and bumped them, making all three aware of its presence. “Fuck, that was fast. I’m going to need one of you to take the wheel,” Ben called, already moving away from the steering console.
Lance, cursing at everything going wrong in his life, dived into the front seat. “Get down, Catherine.”
The last thing he needed was another death on his conscience. He was the one responsible for Sid’s death. Lance couldn’t afford to let Catherine find out how closely involved he and her sister had been, though they’d never had a physical relationship. Sid had become tired of running and tired of keeping her sister safe. Most had thought her a common whore but, on closer inspection, people would have seen the sharp mind Cyril had put to use.
Lance shook his head and pressed down harder on the accelerator. He didn’t have the time to dwell on his problems. He needed to help get them both out alive.
“Fuck off, you bastards!” Ben yelled, firing his weapon out of the window.
Police dotted the entire area yet did nothing. Life in London truly was going to shit.
They fought their way out of the city and managed to lose the ones following them. Ben ducked back inside and pushed Lance out of the way. Catherine lay on the back seat and Lance could see her shaking with fear. He pressed a hand to her back to reassure her it was all right.
“Where are we going?” he asked Ben.
“To my safe house. Providing it hasn’t been found out.”
They drove on through the night. Catherine stayed still, crying her eyes out. Lance felt his reaction to the tears in his gut—they were horrid to witness, especially knowing he’d been the one to put them there.
* * * *
Several hours later, they stopped at a house in the country, far away from London. It was small and could have been mistaken for a tiny farm.
“Best part of hiding, pretending to be mindless to everything that is happening around you.” Ben shut off the car and got out.
Lance helped Catherine with an arm around her middle.
“I can walk.”
She tried to fight hi
m off but he was having none of it. He liked having her body close to his.
“I don’t want you to walk. I want to carry you.” With that, he lifted her into his arms and walked the rest of the way into the house.
In the living room, Ben was already preparing a fire. “In this weather we’re going to need more than just paper to keep us warm. I’ve got some logs in the kitchen.”
“So this is the big plan? Hide out and wait for Cyril to come and kill us?” Catherine faced the two men, hands on hips.
She looked sexy as sin, and Lance had to move his hands to cover the stirring in his pants, his cock deciding to take notice while she got on her high horse.
“Look, baby doll—Cyril wants to kill you and my buddy here. Now, unless you have a better idea than freezing to death or getting shot, be my guest. I’m all ears,” Ben shouted at her.
Lance wanted to tell the other man to back off, but he knew Ben had a point in what he was saying.
Catherine folded her arms beneath her breasts and sighed. Lance couldn’t help but yearn to be her arms right now, to be the one to cup those delicious mounds and kiss them. He turned away, going to the window. It was icy outside and it would hinder any plans to kill Cyril for a few days. At least it was the weekend.
“Fuck you,” Catherine spat, the shake in her voice giving away her fear.
“I’d gladly do the honours, but I’m busy.” Ben walked past her. “No fancy shit for dinner but I’ve got tinned soup.”
The door slammed, and Lance kept his back to the woman who had been thrust in the centre of some serious shit.
“Why am I here? What have I done?” She was behind him now.
Her scent surrounded him, and, for the first time since the death of his sister, Lance felt comforted. He would have liked nothing more than to turn and take her in his arms, but he couldn’t do that. He needed to be strong and fight the urge.
He spun around and saw her flinch away. Women didn’t normally flinch from him, but, for all of her bravado, Catherine was still a vulnerable innocent in the current scheme of things.
“You’re the younger sister. You have answers to Cyril, whether you know it or not. Men will hunt you in order to kill you to keep those answers secret, and other men will use you.”
“You mean, like you?”
“I don’t want what Cyril has, baby. I want his head.” He touched her cheek, running his thumb along her lip. Any other time and he’d have courted her with flowers and chocolates, devoted his time to her. They no longer had that luxury. Maybe one day it would be possible for them to be together, but not yet and certainly not in this moment.
“Let’s get you something to wear. You must be catching your death.”
He took her elbow and tried to tune out the sensation of her being so close to him. He would protect her, but he still had to keep his mind on killing Cyril.
* * * *
They sat round a table, holding bowls of lukewarm tomato soup, a single candle alight to help them see in the dark. Catherine was thankful for the clothes Lance had managed to find for her. The slutty dress and heels did nothing for her at all. With the jumper and trousers she finally felt protected against outside forces.
“Right, let’s get to it. Catherine, you have information and I need it. The police force is corrupt, but there is still a small circle who can stop him. I need your help.” Ben slammed his bowl on the table, spilling some of his soup, and focused his gaze purely on her.
She bit her lip, not knowing what the man wanted from her. She’d known nothing about Cyril before tonight, and she’d gladly have all of this night’s memories erased.
Slamming her bowl down with equal force—she also spilt some of her soup in the process—she squared off with him, tired of being intimidated and frightened. Being damn well spoken to like shit had finally taken its toll.
“When are you going to get it into your thick skull? I know nothing of Cyril Woods and his shit-for-nothing business. I’m a student. I study business. I lead a boring life. What more can I give you.” Running a hand through her hair, she winced on encountering a knot. It was all too much for her to deal with. The anger built inside her until it finally exploded. Without any thought of her action, she swiped the bowl of soup off the table. The bowl crashed to the floor in pieces and the soup spattered the surrounding area.
“That was childish.”
“I don’t give a fuck! Up until twenty-four hours ago, my life was perfect to my standards. I had my sister, my studies and my life and now it’s not there. So tell me, Ben, what more can I give you?”
“Perfect you say? Your life was perfect? You selfish little bitch!” Ben yelled back, getting to his feet.
Lance broke in, “Ben, come on.”
“No! She thinks life has been perfect. It’s time for a reality check. You see, sweetness, while you were off swanning it in college and university and dreaming of the fancy career and all the shit life entails, Sid—a woman I actually respected—was out working her butt off fucking everyone Cyril told her to, doing the business he forced her to. Your parents, who died so suddenly, were on his payroll and the debt he was going to collect from them was you two. Sid struck a bargain with him and, in return for your safety, she sacrificed everything. There were nights she was beaten and broken, and by the time you came home for a break, she’d finally healed over. Are you so stupid to believe it’s been easy? Open your eyes, sweetheart. Life has turned to shit and it’s about to swallow the world whole.” Ben upended the table, showing her his power, then charged away.
Catherine didn’t know that she’d been holding her breath until he left the room and she slumped down in a heap on the floor.
Every word he’d said was true. She’d known it and had still done nothing.
“You must hate me,” she whispered to Lance, somehow keeping herself together.
“I don’t know you.”
Catherine gazed up at him. “Yes, you do. Sid talked about me. I’ll bet she hated me, too.”
“No, she never hated you. You made her want to do better. She knew it would only be a matter of time before Cyril brought you in, the way he brought your parents in. We were working together trying to figure a way out.”
Tears dropped down her cheeks. She couldn’t handle his comfort at the moment. She needed to bruise herself, to feel the pain Sid must have felt so many times.
He came to kneel before her and wiped the tears from her face. “Don’t let him do this to you. Don’t let him break you.”
Without thinking, she wrapped her arms round his neck and sought the comfort he offered and the comfort she craved. For a few moments she wanted to be safe, and with this man, for some reason, she felt safe and protected.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Lance stroked her hair, offering her soothing noises.
Catherine didn’t know how long they sat on the floor and held each other but she came awake as he was lifting her. “What are you doing?” Her entire body ached and her head thumped to its own beat.
“I’m taking you to bed… Don’t worry, I’m not going with you.”
Catherine let him carry her up the groaning staircase and through a set of doors. The mattress smelt stale and unused but she preferred it to sleeping on the floor.
Lance tucked her in and went to move away, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Please stay with me,” she asked. Tonight, after everything she’d been through, she didn’t want to be alone. Fear was a nasty way to hurt someone, and for her it was alive and pouncing at her from every corner. No matter where she turned, all she could see were the blurred images of Sid.
The vision of Sidney being shot, Cyril and his men, bullets… Every awful part of the night’s events was clear in her mind. She shivered and brought her hands up to cover her face.
“Hey, hold on, baby,” Lance said, pulling the blanket back and snuggling in behind her. “I’ve got you. Nothing is going to happen.” He curved his body round her.
Taking a deep breath, Catherine then released it slowly, trying to regain control.
“I can still hear her, the fear in her voice. She knew he was going to kill her and she still turned her back on him.” Above anything else, she had to get this out, and, with Lance having lost his own sister, he was a kindred spirit of sorts.
“It must have been awful.”
“Did you…see your sister being killed?” she tentatively asked.
“No. I just went and identified the body…saw her broken and battered. The police reports and the medical they do on the dead…” He stopped to cough and ran his stubble across her cheek. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. A bit of stubble never hurt anyone.” She should be ashamed. Her body came alive with his touch, her dormant emotions going into overdrive, even after everything that had happened and the sombre topic. In a way, Catherine was relieved to know her body wouldn’t have any long-lasting damage, but the intensity with which he affected her still frightened her.
“Did you love your sister?” she asked. Stupid question, but she had to pull her thoughts out of the gutter.
“She was my life, and I was responsible for her. Go to sleep, Catherine. We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow,” he whispered.
She knew he hurt as much as she did. Instead of asking him more questions, she let her mind drift and her body sag until she fell into a deep but troubled sleep.
Chapter Five
The following morning Lance awoke to the sound of something pounding in the kitchen. Careful not to rouse Catherine, he moved out from under her arm to go see what was causing the sound.
He found Ben going through bags of weapons. “What are you doing?” Lance asked, amazed at all the weaponry.
“Preparing. Cyril must be stopped.” Ben didn’t bother to turn around, continuing to check the weapons.
“I thought we’d agreed, bounty hunter days and all that shit was to be left behind us. Missions, protocol… Was I the only one out of us two who stuck to that agreement?” Before settling in to his comfortable life as a millionaire bachelor, Lance had fought in the army, becoming a soldier of the Crown, completing missions no one should have to face, before becoming a bounty hunter and chasing, capturing and killing the worst kind of scum living on the planet. Five years ago, way before the death of his sister, Ben and Lance had agreed that they’d complete one more mission and that would be it. Sanity, settling down, having children and families would take over.