Dauntless (The LockDown Series Book 2)

by Dobson, Shannon

  “Leighton,” she says when she sees me again, running into me. Her head only lines up with the underneath of my chest. I squeeze her hard, my arms wrapping around her and holding her close. Fuck, I feel the tears in my eyes approaching and I try my hardest to keep them at bay.

  She was always there, always like a best friend to me. When I lost the most important person in my life she stood by me, kept me tall and proud, made me into a man I loved.

  I hear her sobbing into my chest, her body shaking as she releases her hurt. “Shhh, George, it’s okay baby girl.” I lift one of my hands from around her back to wipe away my own tears. God, it hurts so much being here, the memory of my mother’s withering and dying body as I said goodbye to her and learnt the truth of Josie’s death.

  “God, Leighton, fuck I’m so sorry I blamed you. I never once thought of how you were feeling. God I hate myself right now.” She continues to cry into my chest, her tears soaking my shirt.

  “Shhh, let’s just forget it, flower.” I don’t blame her for blaming me. Neither of them knew the truth of what really happened. They both assumed that our father had died because of me, that someone I had fucked off was taking revenge. Neither of them knew I had actually killed our father myself.

  “I can’t forget it Leighton, I can’t forget his bloody body, the screams as Brandon blamed you and you walked away. I can’t forget how I have sat here for five years and blamed you and made you feel so fucking worthless. I can’t forget how I abandoned my own brother when he was hurting just as fucking much at losing his parents.” She screams, frustrated into my chest, her fists punching repeatedly trying to release some of the anger she feels.

  I don't feel sad at the loss of my father, he deserved everything he got. My mother on the other hand, the woman who had always protected me, brought me up and respected all my decisions. I mourn her loss every day, but also the loss of my own self. The day my mother left this world was the day I went with her, my spirit flying with hers as I let my humanity take a leap.

  I pull her away from my chest, clasping her face in my palms and lifting her head to face me. “Georgia, you listen to me, and you listen to me good. I do not blame you for anything; there is nothing to be sorry for darling. You are my sister and I fucking love you so goddamn much it hurts babe and Brandon, Jesus the man is infuriating but I love him. I just want to put this shit behind us, let mum rest and be a family again. I want you do know my daughter and my fiancée.” Her face lights up at the mention of Melissa, then sadness covers it as she thinks of Joe. I know she is probably thinking I’m a selfish bastard, moving on and finding a new love, not coming back for the ones I already had.

  “You’re a dad?” she asks me, her eyes sparkling behind the water sheet covering her irises.

  “Yup, her name is Melissa, she is absolutely perfect. She is tiny, just like you were, but not as small as Joe was. She looks a lot like you and me. And Abigail, my fiancée, fuck the woman is amazing, you’d love her.” I stroke away a stray tear as it falls; I’m not sure if it is still from pain or if it is from happiness and memories.

  “I’m so glad you’ve had someone there,” she says lowering her head in heartache. There hasn’t been anything I’ve regretted more in this world, than leaving my family behind, moving on and forgetting the things I already had.

  “I’ve got some very close friends that have kept me strong, who have helped me out in dad’s business.” It was sick of me, but the day I drained my father of his fucking life, I took his business as well, taking his clients, his weapons, his resources, making them my own. Ant and I had been planning to make our own company for a long time, but it was perfect and almost a trophy to me, to take one that was already fucking successful, and has continued to be for the past five years.

  “Antonio?” she asks me. The girl has always been like a bad smell around him. Since I have known Antonio, my little sister has been obsessed with him.

  “What about Antonio?” I ask, wishing we weren’t venturing into this topic. I can still remember her teenage strops she threw every time I told her to steer clear of him.

  “Well, how is he?” Her face is scarlett red, the blush spreading across her cheeks and throat.

  “He’s awesome. Got a girlfriend, he’s godfather to my daughter. He’s built like a brick shit-house, covers my back in everything I do.” I try to elaborate on the whole girlfriend part, try and steer her away from the thoughts she is clearly having, when the smile etches on her face at his name.

  “He’s never gonna want you Georgia, so fucking forget about it.” I hear Brandon shout from the kitchen down the hall, his voice echoing through the house.

  “Stop being a fucking cock, Brandon.” I shout back at him, pissed at the attitude he has today, and fucked off at his tone with our sister.

  I hear his footsteps in the hall as he walks towards us.

  “Finally, he shows his face,” I say as I see him, his body powering towards me. He is angry, frustrated and hurt. I can see it all on his face. The death of our parents has fucked his head up something chronic, and I think in some ways he just wants someone to blame, someone to stop him feeling so fucking shit.

  I deserved all the blame; I had completely driven this family apart by my desire to protect my mother. If I hadn’t caught James Lock fucking that bitch nine years ago, threatening him to stop, then my Josie wouldn’t be dead, my mother would have gotten the help she needed to fight her illness, and in some ways my dad would probably still be alive.

  “You think you’re something special Leigh, think you’re fucking God? You are a worthless cunt, you got my dad killed and you, you can just go fuck off mate, coz I couldn’t give a shit about your existence.”

  Georgia steps in front of me, her tiny body trying to block Brandon’s from mine. Her fist rears back and smashes into his cheekbone, a loud crunch permeating the air. “You just don’t give up, do you Brandon. How about you say sorry to your brother, love him like he deserves. Why do you always have to be like this. You have never ever sat and thought about how he coped on his own, without his family, without Josie and Joe. You haven’t sat and thought how it felt for him to sit with our mother for three months whilst she got weaker and weaker, Leighton at her beck and call, until her last fucking breath.” I can see the tears trickling off her chin as she’s caught in the middle of this battle.

  I am struggling hard, I want to lay him the fuck out, knock some sense into him and then I want to hold him, to wrap my arms around him and feel him once more.

  “MURDER GEORGIA, OUR FATHER’S MURDER, AND YOU’RE STICKING UP FOR THE FUCK WHO MADE IT HAPPEN,” he shouts at her, his face close to hers.

  I step in front of her, getting into Brandon’s proximity, I can feel the waves of absolute rage rolling off him. His eyes are black and aggressive.

  “Sit down Brandon,” I command him.

  He ignores me, trying to heighten himself to scare me. “I said, SIT the FUCK down NOW!” He cowers a little, drawing back into himself. I walk towards him causing him to step back. I carry on walking until he is in line with the sofa and then I place my hand on his shoulder and push him to sit down.

  “Now, Brandon. You are going to sit there and you’re going to fucking listen to the truth. It’s going to hurt and most probably disgust you, but you are going to listen nevertheless. You are not going to talk until I am finished and you, if it’s the last thing I do for you, are going to drop this childish, petty façade you’ve got going on.” He nods, his fists tensed slightly.

  “Now, I’m going to start at the beginning, the point that caused our father to lose his life.”

  “You have five minutes Leighton, and then you’re gone. You understand?” he tells me once again, trying to act the big man.

  “Our father was not the straight-laced, perfect husband/father you thought him to be. He was a criminal, a murderer and a fucking asshole. He fucked people over, killed them and left no trail behind. There were always other
women in his life. He didn’t give a shit for our mother. He paid for her luxuries to keep her happy, but I knew, hell I caught the fucker more than once. How do you think he got most of his black eyes?”

  “I don’t believe you,” he tells me, always the naïve little brat.

  “That’s your problem, but I’m telling you the truth you fucktard.” I roll my eyes at his insolence. “Anyways, the last time it happened I caught him. I threatened to throw him out; I packed his stuff and left it on the doorstep. He threatened me back, told me if he came home to his stuff outside, I would pay.” I hear the breath Brandon inhales through his teeth.

  “I just don’t get why he’d do it, Leigh, he loved mum.”

  “He did once upon a time, but power changes a man. He became the animal most power-hungry men do. The man who would take and use anything he wanted to. He was a fucking asshole, Brandon; you were just too quiet and self-absorbed to see it. I’m glad in a way that you were so into your computers to even notice the wreck he was turning our family into.”

  I saw his head lower in sadness, his childhood perfect family images ruined. “Brandon mate, look at me. I need to tell you the rest. I know you’ll hate me after, but at least you’ll know the truth.”

  He nods slowly, still looking to the floor.

  “I killed our father, Brandon,” I say aloud, hearing both of them gasp in shock. They have always believed it was my fault, but never thought it was actually me who took his life.

  “WHAT THE FUCK!” my brother shouts, standing up and puffing his chest out.

  “Sit down, let me finish,” I order him, standing myself up to make him cower.

  “Our father got back at me, like he always promised he would. He got back at me by killing my fiancée, Brandon. He was the person who ripped Josie from me and nearly killed Joe in the process,” I bite out, needing him to hear me.

  “What? No, he’d never do that, Leighton.” Brandon defends our father, whilst Georgia bursts into a violent flood of tears, her heartbreak evident. She had seen me at my worst and weakest, dragging me through it, to find out she had done so all because of our father. I knew she disliked him, even thought of his death herself, but I knew her finding out how bad of a person he was, has destroyed any trust she has in this world.

  “Mum told me, she knew. That’s why she couldn’t bear to come to the hospital, because she knew he had killed Josie. Our mother told me the day she died. That’s why I left, that’s why I abandoned everything. I needed to have revenge, Brandon. I had to find peace after everything, and then, well after that, I kind of went mad, thought of nothing else than killing. It wasn’t right for me to be here anymore, Brandon. I couldn’t allow for you all to see me in such a way. It’s only recently that I’ve calmed down, I don't need to do it anymore. I have a reason to live again, Brandon.” I let it all out, telling him everything, how I felt and how I feel now.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me all this back then, Leighton, why did you hide all this hurt and try to deal with it yourself? You didn’t need to go at it alone, I would have been there, fuck I would have helped you.” His eyes are filled with regret and absolute disgust for himself.

  “Two reasons buddy, first you were just a kid, I couldn’t let you help me murder our father, you would never get past it, Me I’m tough as old boots, I don't possess any humanity, well I didn’t and second, I didn’t want anyone’s help, didn’t want anyone, to be honest. I wanted to be alone, at least that way I can't lose anyone I love.” I shrug at him.

  “You stupid fucking prick.” He stands from his seat and pulls me into a hug. “God, I can't believe this. I can't believe I stood up for that bastard, I abandoned you when I should have helped you.” I wrap my arms around him, the gesture being a little harder with him, than it is with George. The guy has built out a lot since his weedy, nerdy days.

  “You been hitting the gym, bro?” I ask him, clasping his enormous biceps. The change in atmosphere and tension is incredible; it is like nothing had ever happened, but it has, so much has happened and I for one can't forget the pain I caused both of them.

  “Yeah, a little.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

  “Aha, a little, are you trying to please someone?” I ask him, wiggling my eyebrows.

  “Yeah, my wife you shit face,” he says, pushing me back a little, jokingly.

  “Your wife?” I ask him in total shock. I have missed so much these past few years.

  “Yes, Leighton, my wife. Fuck, this is total bollocks; we’ve all missed so much.” He walks to his drinks cabinet, filling us all a glass of scotch and then takes a seat on the sofa in front of me.

  “Yeah we have mate, but now we have time to make new memories okay. Let’s forget the shit that’s happened, and be a family. Deal?” He raises his glass to me and my sister jumps on the sofa next to him, pulling him into a side hug and kisses his cheek.

  “DEAL,” she squeals on behalf of Brandon. “Eeekkk, this is so fucking awesome. You’re going to love April.”

  “April?” I ask unclear of who April is exactly.

  “My wife, April Hurley, well now April Lock.”

  “April Hurley is your wife?” I ask, utterly shocked that my brother is married to one of the most famous glamour models in the UK.

  “What? Didn’t think your little bro could tap something so fucking sexy?” He bites his lip, clearly imagining her naked, just like I am right now.

  “Oi fucker, stop thinking of my wife naked.” I chuckle at him, feeling so at ease and so fucking happy that I now have my family back.

  “Can’t help it mate, but wait till you see my fiancée you’ll be mind-fucking her yourself.” I miss Abigail and Melissa so goddamn much. I hope she is okay at home on her own, I know she still panics about people being after her.

  “We’ll see mate, we’ll see.” He drains the last of his scotch as he snuggles my little sister to his side, protecting and comforting her. I am assured she won’t need too much protection, she is a feisty little madam and I am proud to call her my family.

  “Georgia, who’s that man?” I hear the small, quiet voice of someone behind me. I turn my face to the sound. A young boy with the brightest blue eyes, dark brown hair and perfect pale skin, looks back at me.

  I couldn’t mistake him, never in a millions years would I not be able to see who he is. He looks like her, like his mother, so perfect and flawless, so beautiful and innocent.

  I have screwed up monumentally missing this, missing seeing this face growing and developing.

  I am a shit person, a coward of a man.

  I look to the boy and smile sadly, smile at my loss. It breaks my heart that he doesn’t know me, doesn’t know who I am to him.

  My own son doesn’t even know his father.

  Abigail

  I am now paranoid as hell. I can’t sleep; my eyes refuse to close in case something happens. They keep flicking back and forth to the mirror where the edge of the lipstick heart lays smudged. I am sure it wasn’t like that when I had left earlier. It was a perfect, beautiful heart made from the love my man had for me.

  “Fuck, Abbi, pull yourself together love.” I toss and turn for another hour, trying my damn hardest to sleep. It finally greets me at two in the morning, my eyes finally dropping closed.

  I awake to Melissa’s screams through the baby monitor, high pitched wails I am sure I have never heard before. I jump from the bed as quick as I can, trying to get to my daughter. My heart is palpitating and thrumming in my chest. I am finding it so goddamn hard to breathe. “I’m coming baby girl,” I call out from my room, as I walk from my room to hers.

  “Come on baby girl,” I say as I lean over her cot to get her. I scream as I see her bed empty.

  I sprint to Maria’s guest room to see if she has her. As I open the door, I find her bed also empty. I relax a little, as I think she must have gotten up to feed her. I walk downstairs to the kitchen to see where my baby is.

  “Isn’t Auntie
Maria lovely getting up to help you?” I say aloud as I walk into the lounge.

  Sprawled out on the couch sound asleep, is a very fat, very pregnant Maria.

  Holy fucking shit!

  “MELISSA!” I scream loud, jolting Maria awake.

  “Abbi, what’s wrong?” she says, as she wipes the sleep from her eyes. I am already halfway out of the room and darting up the stairs at a dangerous speed.

  “Mel, where are you baby girl?” I cry, tears streaming my face as I look into her room again finding her cot still empty. I sprint the length of both wings, searching every room for her, slamming the doors against the walls as I power through the wood to find her.

  “Oh fuck, please god no. Melissa, baby please.” I punch a hole in the landing wall as I continue my search.

  “ABBI!” I hear Maria scream for me from the opposite wing. I run the length of the corridor towards my bedroom and Melissa’s.

  “Abbi, sweetheart, she’s in bed,” Maria tells me, causing my heart to drop into my stomach.

  “No she fucking isn’t, Maria,” I call out as I near Mel’s room.

  “Yes, she is honey. She’s asleep right here.” I walk into the room cautiously, my heart pounding beneath my ribcage. I lean over the cot once again to see my little girl wrapped in her blanket, her little lip pouted as she snores gently.

  “You’re going crazy angel face,” Maria tells me as she walks past me, stroking my cheek. “I’m going to bed, hun. Try and sleep some okay. You look like shit.”

  I stand stock still, trying to sort through my brain at what the fuck has just happened. I am a hundred percent certain she isn’t in her bed. I am also certain that I heard a hideous scream through the monitor. Jesus I feel so fucked up right now, I don’t know which way is up or fucking down. I sink to the floor, lifting my knees to my chest as I pull gently at my hair.