The Downfall Series Box Set

by Edie Baylis

  He’d known Bill Benson for most of his life and he’d always been good to him. He’d even seen Marie leave the club an hour or so ago, but hadn’t thought much of it. He was in too much of a rush to get finished and locked up to bother to ask what was going on.

  Seeing the turning for Bill’s house, Barry screeched into the driveway and came to a halt not far from the front door. All the lights were off apart from a faint glow emanating faintly from one of the back rooms. “Right,” he muttered. “We’re here. Let’s go.”

  In unison both men retrieved concealed sawn-offs from underneath the seats.

  SETH WAS ON FULL ALERT as he followed Barry through the unlocked front door of Bill’s large house. “Where the fuck is Bill and this Marie then?” he muttered quietly, not wishing to speak too loud in case there were intruders.

  He glanced up the hall and although the lights were off, could clearly see a body covered up with a beige throw.

  Seth nudged Barry and nodded towards the shape. Well it wasn’t Benson that was for sure. Not unless he wore high heels!

  “Oh shit!” Barry muttered. “That’s Sheila...” He recognised her trademark blue stilettoes poking out from under the blanket. He then saw Marie appear at the end of the hallway and beckon them to follow. “Come on Jim, they’re down here.”

  Seth followed Barry down towards the kitchen, immediately spotting Bill sitting down, covered in blood with a glass of whisky in his hands. “Bill?”

  Bill continued to stare vacantly in front of him.

  “Marie? What the fuck’s happened?” Barry asked.

  Seth’s eyes moved from Bill to search the room. With a jolt his eyes came to rest on the woman Barry was speaking to.

  Blood drained from his face and his ears began ringing. A cold rush raced from his toes up into every strand of hair on his head. It was Jane. JANE.

  Feeling suddenly unsteady, he leant against the nearest cabinet for some support, sure his legs would go on him. Jane?

  Seth felt a tremor rumble through his veins as his eyes travelled over her shapely figure up to her face. Still as beautiful as ever.

  Looking at her expression, he realised she was just as shocked to see him as he was her and time stood in suspended animation as they stared uncomprehendingly at each other.

  “MARIE?” BARRY SHOUTED once more. “What the fuck’s going on?”

  Barry’s voice snapped Jane from her shocked trance and she forced herself to rip her gaze from Seth and stop the urge she felt to throw herself against his chest and take in his scent. To feel his arms around her once more.

  Her mind was unable to process exactly how and why he was standing in front of her. Was she seeing things? No, it was definitely Seth. How?

  “Marie?” Barry shook her shoulder roughly. “Pull yourself together!”

  Jane knew she had to override the crashing in her head and carry on with the job in hand. Forcing herself to ignore Seth’s eyes burning into her, she looked at Barry. “Sorry, sorry. It was Carter. Carter killed Sheila and he, he...”

  She tried to keep her voice low, not wanting to upset Bill further. “It looks like he, you know...”

  “I am here you know!” Bill roared, making everyone jump.

  Barry walked over to Bill and placed his hand on his shoulder. “I know you are, Bill. We’ll sort this ok?”

  “I WANT CARTER NOW!” Bill screamed.

  Barry watched Jim rooted to the spot staring at Marie intently. What the hell was he doing? This was no time to think about dipping his wick. “JIM!” he hissed sharply.

  Seth tried to control his breathing which was trying to escape from his crushed lungs as he stared at the woman who had left him for dead. The woman he’d loved so fiercely. The woman who’d destroyed him.

  He forced his mind back on track and stepped forward. “We’ll need a meat wagon.”

  “I’ll phone Marchant,” Barry whispered, moving away. Marchant’s funeral services would take Sheila and keep hold of her - no questions asked, until Bill had regained sufficient clarity to give instructions. “You deal with Bill.” He quickly pushed past Jim, shooting him a questioning glance as he left the room.

  Jane stared at Seth as he bent over Bill. He was still drop-dead gorgeous. Adrenaline pounded through her veins. Why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t SHE said anything? What would she say? All this time she’d believed she’d killed him when she hadn’t. She fucking hadn’t.

  The mixed emotions coursing through her mind unbalanced her greatly. Relief that Seth wasn’t dead, coupled with anger about the guilt which had wracked through her whole system for years at the responsibility of killing the man she’d loved. But she hadn’t killed him, so why hadn’t he come back for her?

  She’d left him. She’d fucking left him! She’d been sure he was dead. She’d sat there for hours. She’d been wrong. She should have checked harder before leaving him. All of this was her fault.

  Sweat began to bead on Jane’s brow. What had he been doing in the interim? A wave of jealousy surged. Seth still hadn’t said anything. It was almost like he hadn’t recognised her and her heart plummeted.

  Shaking her head slightly, she tried to compartmentalise the torrent of thoughts and feelings crashing through her mind. She had to pull herself together otherwise she’d pass out.

  Feeling the overwhelming urge to turn away, or at the very least go outside for some fresh air to try and clear her mind, she faltered, aware she was trembling.

  How come Seth was so calm and collected, Jane wondered, watching him talk to Bill. Further proof he didn’t much care.

  Her life had been in ruins since the night she’d plunged that knife into his chest, but judging by what she was seeing and that he appeared most unperturbed, it signified he’d managed to get on with his life quite happily.

  Seth stood up suddenly. He made his way over and Jane forced herself to meet his eyes. Keep it real, she chanted silently, urging her pounding heart to slow. Keep a lid on yourself. You need to talk, but not now. Not here.

  She could smell the underlying scent of him underneath the aftershave. The scent that only he had and she swallowed down the need to run her tongue over his skin.

  Jane met Seth’s green cold, hard eyes and her heart ramped up further whilst her gaze moved involuntarily to his mouth.

  Drinking in the full lips she’d dreamt of kissing for all these years she felt herself lean toward him, before quickly stopping. The familiar waves of both overwhelming desire combined with anger coursed strongly through her body and she cursed the fact her hardening nipples were visible through her top.

  “Right, Marie,” Seth muttered, contempt loud and clear in his deep voice. “Me and Barry will stay here with Bill making sure he’s ok and wait for that firm to pick Sheila up.”

  He glanced towards the body and lowered his voice. “She needs to be out of the house. It’s not helping.”

  Jane nodded, hoping her shallow breathing wasn’t as obvious to him as it was to her. She could clearly see the hatred in his eyes when he looked at her.

  Feeling an overwhelming urge to drop to the floor and sob, she forced her voice to remain steady. “What do you need me to do?” she whispered.

  “I don’t need you to do anything, Marie,” Seth hissed acidly. “I think you’ve done enough. Barry can drop you home when he finishes on the phone.”

  Panic began to flood through Jane’s being. “I’ll stay and help.”

  Seth looked into her eyes once more. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” Turning, he walked back towards Bill to top his whisky up and hoped his agonisingly unbearable erection would go away as soon as possible.

  He ran his hand through his hair and angrily watched Jane cross the room to rummage in her handbag for a cigarette. He needed to keep a grip on himself but was failing miserably. The urge to plunge his tongue into her mouth, bite her red lips, rip her clothes off and ram himself into her was so savage and desperate, it was carnal.

  Seth coul
dn’t decipher what was bothering him more. The fact he’d thought she was dead, or the hurt and anger he’d fed off for the last few years over her leaving him to die had been automatically replaced with the powerful need for the woman in front of him. Just as it always had.

  Why had Digger told him she was dead? She wasn’t dead. She was standing here in the same fucking room.

  Seth forced his eyes away. He wasn’t having it this time. Jane had hurt him too much and he needed answers. He’d get them, but they’d have to wait.

  Hearing Barry walk back into the room Seth glanced up questioningly.

  “They’re on their way,” Barry said.

  Seth nodded. “Can you take Marie home and then come back?”

  “Take her home? We could do with her to st...”

  “NO!” Seth interrupted. “She needs to go, Barry.”

  Barry glanced between the pair of them. Something was going on here, but he had no idea what. Frowning he pulled the van keys from his pocket. “Come on then, Marie.”

  “Goodbye, Marie,” Seth hissed through gritted teeth.

  Jane nodded and grabbed her bag. She took Bill’s hand, trying to override the prickling sensation and current of electricity radiating outwards and pulling her towards Seth. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bill. These two will take good care of you tonight. Don’t worry. It will all be ok.”

  She turned, seeing Seth immediately move his eyes from her and fix his stare on the nearest wall. “Goodbye, Jim,” Jane said, allowing her shaky legs to follow Barry back down the hallway.

  Hearing the front door shut, Seth got up and poured himself a large shot of whisky from the decanter. God only knew he needed a fucking drink. He could actually feel the sweat tricking in a rivulet down between his tense shoulder blades. So now what?

  He knocked the whisky straight down his throat and was surprised his hands were not shaking. He took a deep breath. The image of Jane’s face immediately came into his mind and he resentfully realised that he would be unable to function properly until this had been dealt with.

  The only problem was he had no idea how he was going to deal with it. None at all.

  FORTY SEVEN

  “FOR FUCK’S SAKE, CHEER up you miserable bitch,” Ernie growled, his hand roughly grasping at Eliza’s breast as she lay with her back to him. “You say you’ve missed me all this time but now you’re back in my bed you’re not making much of a bloody effort!”

  Eliza swallowed the bile rising up into her throat as Ernie pushed his erection against her buttocks.

  “Get off your lazy arse and come and do something with this will you,” he muttered placing her hand on his cock.

  Trying to plaster a smile onto her face, Eliza turned over and quickly straddled him. He groaned with pleasure as she sank herself onto him and began to move. “Is that better?” she asked sweetly.

  Scowling at his craggy face, she placed her hands on his white mottled flabby chest, liberally peppered with greying hair. At least she didn’t have to kiss him whilst she was up here.

  She wasn’t sure what had gone on last night, but Ernie had been extra rampant and more randy than usual. She’d wondered as to whether he’d dropped a case load of Viagra or something, but whatever he’d done, she wished he hadn’t.

  The same couldn’t be said for Matt or Pete. As usual they’d followed Ernie in last night like a pair of bad smells looking like they’d seen a bloody ghost. Not right those two weren’t.

  Eliza glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Almost midday already. She’d have to get over to her flat soon otherwise Benson’s lot would be putting out a search party.

  Ignoring the horrible grunting noise Ernie was making as he moved her hips faster, Eliza felt like shit. She’d stepped over the line with Seth yesterday and would have to put that right as quickly as possible.

  He obviously still carried a torch for Jane and she’d been stupid to give the game away, but she’d been cross and hadn’t thought through what she was bloody saying. Still, she was sure he saw her in a different light these days and if she upped the charm and opened her legs wider for him he’d soon snap out of his sulk.

  When Ernie started grunting louder, Eliza remembered she’d best start acting like his feeble cock was doing something for her and began to make the right noises to help him along.

  BEN SWAYED SLIGHTLY as he read through the letter he’d put together. He folded the piece of paper and placed it inside the white envelope.

  Outlining the known facts, he’d embellished them a little and although he hadn’t given away everything, he’d certainly given this Benson bloke enough to go on to make things very awkward for Marie. Or should he call her Jane? That bit he couldn’t be entirely sure about from the paperwork the dumb-ass bitch Shelley had lifted.

  It was one of two things: either Marie was an undercover cop as he’d suspected and had been responsible for the case of this Jane woman, hence having some of her police notes and correspondence, or Marie was Jane and therefore a criminal.

  He’d decided to go with the undercover cop story. That would cause more problems, being as she was working for a place which more than likely had shady deals going on behind the scenes. Those types of joints always did.

  He’d deliver the letter personally to the club this afternoon. It didn’t matter that he was banned. He’d just give it to that fucking monkey on the door. He knew what these people were like. They wouldn’t be able to help their inquisitiveness and would open the letter and then the shit would hit the fan. For Marie at least.

  Ben smiled. That was not all. He’d then go round to Marie’s and again offer her the option of putting things right with him so he wouldn’t have to go through exposing her for what she was. It was irrelevant he would have already have done it by then because she wouldn’t yet be aware of that.

  He took another swig from his glass of Tequila on the kitchen table and wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, turned the envelope around in his fingers.

  “What’s that?” Shelley asked as she buttered some bread.

  Ben scowled. What the fuck did she think it was? “It’s a letter Shelley. A letter!” he snapped irritably.

  Shelley sighed. “I can see that!” she said. “I meant who to?”

  “Oh for God’s sake! Do you have to know the ins and outs of everything all of the time?”

  “Sandwich?” she asked, attempting to keep the peace.

  Ben shook his head and downed the rest of the Tequila.

  Shelley sighed loudly. “It’s not even lunchtime Ben and you’ve already been drinking for an hour.”

  Ben slammed his glass down on the table. Why couldn’t Shelley just piss off? Piss the hell off and out of his life.

  He watched her open the fridge to take out a block of cheese and grimaced at the tight top she was wearing to showcase her pregnancy. Like he needed bloody reminding!

  She wasn’t going to get rid of it now was she? Fear and nausea washed over Ben. It was probably too late anyway, he thought, looking at her belly.

  “Ben!” Shelley exclaimed excitedly. “Quick! I can feel the baby moving! Come on, feel it!” Her hand pressed into the side of her belly, prodding it. “Quickly before it stops!”

  Ben unsteadily got to his feet and snatched the envelope from the table. “I don’t want to fucking feel it! I’m going out,” he snapped and quickly walked up the hall.

  BILL WAS STILL NOT himself by any stretch of the imagination, but he couldn’t stay in that house any longer. Ignoring Seth and Barry’s pleas to at least have a day or so off and take some time out, he’d pushed past them and got in his car.

  He’d really wanted to go round to Carter’s place and pull his bollocks off, but Seth and Barry were tailing him in the van to make sure he didn’t do anything ‘stupid’.

  He also knew, despite his rage that he needed to wait. Besides, he’d forced himself to the point where he’d switched off and gone into automation mode. Almost business as usual.

  It w
as the only way he could hold it together because if he fully took on board what had occurred, he’d disintegrate.

  He’d fallen apart enough last night for his liking and that was as far as it was going to go. At least until he’d sorted Carter out and finished it all. Then and only then would he be able to take stock of what he’d lost and perhaps allow himself to grieve.

  In the meantime he’d rationally discuss what was going to be done about Carter and for that he needed to remain detached.

  SETH CHAIN-SMOKED AS they drove towards the Glint. He hadn’t slept a wink and his eyes were only still open thanks to the constant supply of cocaine he’d fed himself.

  Luckily all this business with Bill had kept his mind off what was eating at him - at least to some extent, but he didn’t dare start thinking about that. He’d go insane. Again.

  By 6am this morning once Barry and Bill had finally dropped off, he’d gazed out of the large patio windows at the breaking dawn and come to the decision the only possible way of being able to handle Jane appearing back from the dead was to not allow her to seep back into his consciousness.

  He fully accepted this was futile, being as she’d never actually left his consciousness, sub consciousness or his heart, but if he could attempt to somehow convince himself that was what he was doing, then he at least stood half a chance of buying himself a bit more time to try and work out what the fuck he was going to do.

  He just needed to ensure he remained as cold as ice. He’d keep as far away from Jane as possible and in situations when she was there, he’d avoid eye contact, conversation and not allow himself to even brush against her.

  He only had to cope with this until Carter had been removed. Once that had been done he’d be able to concentrate and force himself to ask her the questions he needed the answers to.

  Seth’s brows furrowed together. He’d have to make sure he advised Benson things would run a lot more smoothly if ‘Marie’ was kept out of it, leaving them to get on with dealing with Carter. It wasn’t a strange or unreasonable request.