by K. L. Donn
For the last five years, Bradshaw had been working with drug cartels in both Ireland and England, shipping their merchandise back and forth, taking all the risk with the highest payout. Only the moron forgot one thing…It all traced back to him. Meaning the English and Irish governments were on his trail; hence, the reason Dominic had now infiltrated his organization. He’d slowly and quietly worked his way to guarding the boss, being instructed to take out Bradshaw without it blowing back on him or either government. His chances were slim because Bradshaw liked having an entourage with him at all times, and eliminating everyone else wasn’t part of the job. So he was biding his time.
The little girl was a shock. She was a well-kept secret that not many people outside of his circle knew about. The ex-wife was another story because Bradshaw enjoyed bragging about how he ruined her. Made her suicidal.
Fucking slime ball. What kind of man does that to the woman he should be protecting and loving for the rest of her life? He didn’t get it.
He, himself, wasn’t a hearts and flowers type of guy. He was very possessive of what belonged to him and knew that one day a woman would come along and not only tolerate it but fight back to enjoy it.
Listening to Bradshaw yell at his daughter about some stupid shit grated on his nerves, and he felt bad for the girl as he heard her yell, “But Da, it’s me birthday! I’m supposed to see Mam on that day!” He could hear the tears and distress in her voice.
“I don’t give a shite. You’re my child, and you’ll do as I say.” The finality in Bradshaw’s voice would have had grown men backing down or retreating. Not this girl, though.
“Fuck that! She’s my mam, and you can’t stop me!”
Shit, he thought, making his way to the room knowing what was coming.
“Why you little bitch!” was what he heard as he opened the door just as Bradshaw punched the girl in the face. Closed fist. Motherfucker.
“What the fuck!” Dom stormed in as she flew to the floor with a silent cry.
“Mind your business, Slade. This is between my child and me,” he growled out.
Walking over to the girl, Dom was pissed when she cowered away from him. No child should ever cower from a man. He was ready to kill this fucker right then and there. The only thing stopping him was her.
“C’mon kid, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said gently, bending down so she could see him and offer his hand.
She watched him like a bug under a microscope; her eyes quickly darted to her father before settling back on him. Grabbing his hand, she pulled her small body into his.
“Useless child,” Bradshaw grumbled as Dom helped her to her feet. “Get her the fuck outta here.”
Pushing the young girl’s slight frame in front of his, he guided her out of the office asking, “Where’s your room, kid?”
She shot him a look of horror like he planned god-awful things for her. Laughing at her shocked face he told her, “We’re gonna clean your face up, kid.”
“Me name is not kid,” she snapped. Clearly not afraid of him anymore.
“Oh yeah?”
“’Tis Deidre,” she told him saucily.
“Quite the attitude for an eight-year-old,” he teased knowing full well she was ten.
“I beg your pardon! I’m ten, not eight.”
“Whatever you say, Deedee.”
“Deedee?” she asked.
“You look more like a Deedee than a Deidre. Suits you better,” he explained.
She seemed to ponder that while showing the way to her room. Which was on the other side of the monstrosity they called a home. She was alone on this side. Unprotected and vulnerable. He had a feeling Bradshaw didn’t care much for her and only tolerated her because it tormented her mother.
“So what’s the deal with dear old dad?” he asked her as they arrived at her room, and she went straight to the bathroom. Lifting her onto the counter, he grabbed a cloth, turning the cold water on and wet it, then placed it on her cheek where swelling had already started.
“He’s a stupid jerk,” she mumbled.
“Kind of knew that already. What’s up his ass today, though?”
“He hates me mam and doesn’t want to let me see her on me birthday.”
“That so. When’s your birthday?”
“This Saturday. I’ll be eleven years old, and Mam wants to take me to the carnival. But Da’s not letting me go.” She cried silently.
He didn’t know what to do with crying women at any time, let alone what to do with a crying little girl. Awkwardly patting her back, he muttered inconsequential things to her knowing what he said would never make a difference to how she felt anyways.
“You can go now,” she whispered. “I’m sure Da needs protecting from his stupidity.”
The seriousness in her tone had him laughing out loud. The sad part was, she was probably right. The man was a fucking moron that needed saving from himself. Too bad Dom was going to be the man to ruin him; and hopefully, send this girl back to her mother.
*****
Six months later
“But Dooommm, please, just for a little while?” The hopeful lilt to Dee’s voice almost had him caving to take her to the mall with her friends, but he needed her at home where she’d be safe. Away from anything that could possibly harm her.
Over the past six months, since the day her father had hit her over her birthday, he’d been assigned her bodyguard. Which for a ten-year-old girl pretty much meant confidante, slave, bag carrier, and taxi. He didn’t mind. She was a good kid in need of someone to show her she wasn’t just for show when called upon. That she was, in fact, a person. Someone who had quite a bit to contribute to the world. So that’s what he’d been doing.
Unfortunately, today was going to be his only chance to take Bradshaw out and get away unknown. The boss had a meeting that evening with some new “clients” and said he wanted Dom there...Only Dom. He should have been suspicious, but he’d been around long enough to be prepared for anything. Scoping out the building and planning an exit strategy for any and all contingencies had already been taken care of, so in short, he was ready.
The one part of his plan he didn’t like was that he wouldn’t be coming back, which meant Dee was essentially on her own. Once he returned to England for his debriefing, he planned on calling her mother anonymously, so she knew her daughter needed her. But there would be a delay, and that worried him.
“Deidre!” he barked, needing her to understand she was not going with her friends. “You’re to stay here this evening. I have more important things to do than be your chauffeur.”
Tears welled in her eyes immediately, making him feel like shit. Nonetheless, he needed her to be mad at him, so when he didn’t come back, it would hurt her less.
She flew up the stairs to her room, slamming the door behind her. “I’ll see ya, kid,” he whispered before going to meet Bradshaw in his study. Back to where it all began.
*****
Dom stood outside the abandoned warehouse waiting for Bradshaw to finish whatever business he was conducting. He never cared about the specifics so long as he didn’t have to get his hands too dirty for the scum bag.
It was dark, and they were on the outskirts of Dublin where it seemed civilization had abandoned ship. Only, he knew better. This was where the seedy underworld held its business—in the confines of darkness and under the guise of passing through.
A light breeze carried traces of their conversation to his ears and what he heard he did not like. “Where’s the girl?” An angry voice asked Bradshaw.
Creeping around the side of the building, he pulled out his Glock primed to kill if they were talking about who he thought they were.
“She’s home being prepared to leave for Switzerland as we speak. You’ll have to take her from there. I don’t fucking care anymore. She’s more trouble than she was ever worth,” Bradshaw spit out.
He’s fucking selling Dee!
; The need to kill was running through his veins like wildfire. The son of a bitch was going to sell his child. Edging back to the door, he silently opened it, ready for the night to be over. He no longer cared about damage control, or if anyone found out. He was the one to kill this son of a bitch. He was fucking done.
Following the sound of voices deeper into the bowels of the building, he found Bradshaw standing with three other men in the middle of the room. A quick glance around showed it was just the four of them.
Listening, he waited until they would be caught off guard. “She’s still pure, yeah?” One of the guys asked in a thick eastern European accent. Bulgarian maybe? His blood was boiling knowing just what they were talking about.
“As pure as they come. She’s got attitude, though. You’ll have to whip her into shape.” Bradshaw’s slimy English accent boasted.
Dominic was ready to explode in a cloud of gunfire and rage.
“Good, she’ll make a fabulous toy.” The Bulgarian laughed.
“Sure, let’s get this done, shall we, gentleman? You’ve seen the pictures. She has unique eyes. You’ll never see anything like them again.” He was fucking proud of this shit?
“One million,” the Bulgarian offered.
He lost it. Two shots nailed the bodyguards right between the eyes before either of them knew what was coming. Blood splattered Bradshaw and the Bulgarian as their bodies collapsed. Eyes wide with shock, lifeless. Perfect.
“Don’t fucking move you piece of shit,” he ordered Bradshaw. The Bulgarian was still in shock at his dead bodyguards laying on the ground beside him. “You came here to fucking sell her?” He roared. No longer able to contain his anger, he slammed a fist into Bradshaw’s gut, making sure to hit a kidney.
Bent over and wheezing for breath, Dom slammed his face down against his knee. A satisfying crunch came from his nose. Pushing him to the ground brutally, he turned his attention to the Bulgarian.
“Wait, this was his idea…” The guy tried to backpedal.
Cocking his head to the side, Dom remained silent. Studying the waste of skin as he tried to negotiate his way out of death. “I have money, lots of money.” His stammering just further pissed him off.
“You think I care about money?” he asked in a low, deadly voice. “You were going to buy a child. An innocent child. You were excited about the prospect of her being untouched.”
Resignation finally registered in his eyes. He knew he was going to die. In this life only a few things were certain, and death was one of them. Lifting his Glock, he pointed it between the scum ball’s eyes telling him, “You were going to try and take what was mine.” Pulling the trigger, Dom understood his grave mistake.
Scurrying sounds behind him drew his attention to his boss’s attempt to get up and run. “Fucking pussy,” he mumbled to himself as he fired a shot into Bradshaw’s calf. His screams rent the night air.
“Don’t do this, Slade. I own you. You won’t get away with this!”
“Are you for fucking real? You think you scare me? You think I wasn’t sent to do this very thing to you?” He was truly amazed that he thought he could scare Dom out of killing his sorry ass.
“Think about what this will do to my daughter.”
“You just tried to fucking sell her!” he bellowed. So far beyond anger.
“I know; it was part of the deal. H...he wanted her. He was going to give me a better deal on the gunrunning. I needed the money!” Bradshaw was near tears now.
“Make no mistake, Bradshaw, she is mine. Has been since the day you raised your hand to her. Did you honestly think you could get away with this? That I wouldn’t go to the ends of the earth to find her if you were successful?” His sheer stupidity amazed him.
“I knew you paid too much attention to her!” A sick sneer came across his face.
“Don’t be stupid, you fuck. Unlike you, I give a shit about her.” Pulling out his phone, he texted a buddy of his telling him what he needed before he dragged Bradshaw’s sorry ass back to the car.
“She’s gone.” He grumbled as Dom knelt down to pick him up.
He froze mid-action. “What the fuck you mean she’s gone?”
“I sent her away tonight. Why do you think I wanted you here? You were entirely too close to her. She needs to learn a hard lesson.”
“And what lesson is that?”
“Even when you think people love you, they’ll abandon you anyway.”
“What crack are you smoking, you moron?” He was getting more pissed the longer Bradshaw spoke. But he knew the more he talked the higher he would hang himself.
“Oh, please, I’ve been teaching that bit–. Fuck!” he bellowed as Dom kneed his calf wound for daring to call Dee anything but her name.
“Don’t,” he warned.
They were quiet the rest of the way to the car. When he opened the trunk, Bradshaw tried to put up a fight over going in, but Dom was pissed off, tired, and had some bodies to torch, so he wasn’t interested in his whiney mumblings. Balling his fist, he wound up and nailed him in the temple, knocking him out in one shot. Not bothering to catch the body as he fell to the ground, he gathered the gas can, torch, and small tool kit he kept for just these types of emergencies.
Placing those on the ground, he bound Bradshaw’s hands and feet together, tossing him in the trunk. Slamming the lid shut, he picked up his items and went back to the bodies in the warehouse.
*****
Slamming doors and stomping feet woke Deidre from her fitful sleep. When her door smashed open lodging the handle in the wall, she jumped from bed screaming in terror. Trying to run for her bathroom, she felt a tug on her arm. Crashing to the ground with a thud, she looked up at the men surrounding her taking in every detail she could so when Dominic found her, they wouldn’t get away.
“Wh...who are you?” she stuttered out.
“Get up,” one of them demanded.
The shadows were too dark for her to make out any features other than big. Shaking her head no, another one of the men took a menacing step towards her, snarling at her. “Get up now before I make you.” The threat was clear.
“Me da won’t let you get away with this,” she said weakly.
“Who do ya think sent us?”
Shock worked its way through her. Her da sent these men? What were they going to do with her? Where was Dom? “I want Dominic,” she whined.
Harsh laughter was her only answer.
*****
Pulling up to Bradshaw’s mansion, he shut the car off and went around to the trunk, popping the lid open while keeping his gun drawn waiting for Bradshaw to make a move. Nothing came but a sickening smile to his face when he saw where Dom had taken him.
“Home sweet home,” he mumbled as Dom nudged him up the steps.
Once inside, he pushed him onto the foyer stairs making sure he landed hard. “Deedee!” Dom called, needing to know she was okay.
Laughter caught his attention. “She’s gone,” Bradshaw sang out.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone?” Dom hadn’t actually believed him when he said he had already sent her away.
“I mean, I sent her away the minute we left the house.”
“Where?”
“Why should I tell you? You’re just going to kill me.” His voice held triumph. Like he knew he was going to get out of this.
“Tell me where she is and maybe I won’t.” The impatience was vibrating off of him, and his trigger finger was getting itchy.
“You can have her…”
“She’s already fucking mine.”
“…If you let me live…” he trailed off.
“Her life for yours?” A fucking waste of breath. He was still trying to trade his daughter.
“When she’s 18.”
“Excuse me? You know I could find her whether you’re alive or not.” Dom growled.
“Maybe. Maybe not. But if my guys don’t hear from me in the morning,
they have instructions to execute her,” he said as if it were no big deal killing not only a child but his motherfucking daughter.
“Why do you hate her so much?” He’d never cared before, but he also never thought Bradshaw was as much of a lowlife as he did now.
“She’s not mine. Her mother fucked around on me. I kept Deidre to torment the bitch. The fact that I was able to make her life miserable was a constant comfort to me and being able to sell her daughter would have been icing on the cake. But you fucked that up!” The first signs of anger finally entered Bradshaw’s eyes as he thought of the monetary loss Dom had caused him.
Dom was sickened by what the man had done to her and her mother. He was even more sickened by what he was about to do. “I need to know she’s safe first.”
Two
Deidre ~ 18th birthday
As soon as the clock struck midnight, Deidre was gone. Creeping out the old windows of her boarding school was easy as pie. Climbing the barbed wire fence, not so much. Aside from the cuts all over her legs and arms, she managed to do it.
Not looking back, she ran into the street trying to get as far away from the horrible school as she could before they did the nighttime bed check in an hour. Legally, she was free to do as she wished now that she was eighteen; however, her father and the nuns didn’t see it that way.
She’d been rebelling against any authority for as long as she could remember. The only people to ever give a damn about her had already left, so what was the point of trying to be accepted? She couldn’t live life for anyone else anymore. It was time for her to take control and do what was best for herself.
Since arriving in Lugano, Switzerland a little less than seven years ago, she’d not had a single moment for herself. Every day was planned. Every minute was scrutinized. Maintaining a strict diet and exercise regimen had been expected from the moment she got there. Feeling more like she was being trained for something than receiving an education.