Aftermath (Dividing Line #6)

by Heather Atkinson

  She walked through the plain black door tucked away behind the stage, which completely blocked out the noise from the club as it swung shut behind her. She took her time walking up the stairs, drawing it out. She wanted him agitated by the time she got up there, it would give her the upper hand. A tiny bit of apprehension niggled at her, she had no idea how he was going to react to her coming here. The weight of the knives strapped to her forearms beneath her hoodie was reassuring.

  At the top of the stairs she turned right to be confronted by a thick metal door, no doubt soundproofed. He was very security and privacy conscious. It opened beneath her touch, just as she knew it would.

  He was waiting.

  The man himself faced away from the door, surveying his domain through the sea of glass, which took up one entire wall of his office. He sipped a neat vodka. Whisky was his favourite tipple but he preferred vodka when he was agitated. It pleased her that he needed some Dutch courage to face her.

  “Hello Dane.”

  “I was wondering when you’d pay me a visit,” he began without turning round. “You took your time.” He was dressed for his club theatrics, or not dressed as the case may be, his costume consisting of a pair of tight black leather trousers and big black boots, his torso left bare. His trademark black gimp mask lay on the desk, awaiting its big moment. She knew he was angry because the muscles in his back stood out with tension, his body moving stiffly as he threw the fiery liquid down his throat.

  “I’ve had to lie low. Mikey Maguire has been making enquiries about me.”

  “So you brazenly walk into my club. Thanks for that.”

  “I’m sure you can take care of yourself.”

  He slammed the glass down on the desk and turned to face her, dark eyes burning. “What the fuck are you doing Jules? You should have got out of Manchester months ago.”

  “I did. Then I came back,” she casually replied.

  “Why?”

  “To say goodbye.”

  “You’re leaving, for good?” he said, torn between hope and dejection.

  “Let’s just say I’m taking a little trip.”

  “Where to?”

  “Never you mind.”

  “I hope you’re not thinking of going to Devon?”

  She flashed him a wicked smile. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me?”

  “I’m worried about the poor bastard you’re about to descend on. Stay away from Devon.”

  “Or what?”

  “I know you’re hurting over what happened to your club but that was Jasper’s fault. He was a fucking idiot.”

  “He was your best friend.”

  “Until I saw him for what he really was. How could you stay with him after what he did to Zoe and the baby? You disappointed me that day.”

  “I punished him for that,” she glowered.

  “He probably enjoyed it.”

  “Where else was I going to go Dane? Back to my loving parents?”

  He sighed. “Perhaps not.”

  “I stayed because I had no choice and you knew what drove him to that act. He snapped and we made him snap.”

  Dane banged both fists down on his desk, teeth bared. “Don’t you dare lay that fucking atrocity at my door. Jasper did that because he was sick and evil. Riley Cutter cut off his nutsack and shoved it down his throat, literally. Did you know that?” He paused, waiting for her reaction, but all she did was shrug. “Is that all you can fucking do? Did twenty years with him mean nothing to you?”

  “Like you said, he was an evil perv so why should I grieve for him?”

  Dane hesitated, twisted into silence by his own logic.

  “We pushed Jasper to the edge when he walked in on us fucking,” continued Jules in her casual, uninterested tone. “He daren’t take his anger out on us so he took it out on Zoe and Riley instead. You left me to deal with him alone.”

  “You could have left with me. I asked you to.”

  “You didn’t really want me.”

  “Yes I did,” he yelled.

  “It’s easy for you to say that but I do believe you called me a fucking nightmare.”

  “Well you are.”

  “And you shot at me outside the clubhouse when you and your little friends attacked.”

  “You shot at me first.”

  “You know if I’d wanted to hit you I would have done.”

  “Why didn’t you get yourself out of there? I sent you enough text messages warning you.”

  “I got them, three hours after the attack. My battery died.”

  He sighed in exasperation. “You tried to kill Rachel Law.”

  “I didn’t. She saw me in that barn and went for me. It made me angry and I fought back. Bitch knocked out two of my front teeth, I had to get falsies.”

  “Serves you fucking right, you shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but it was what Jasper wanted so you did it.”

  “I have my reasons for going there.”

  “There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

  She gave him another infuriating smile. “You’re imagining things.”

  “No I’m not. What game are you playing Jules?”

  “It’s Venom,” she hissed.

  “Drop the theatrics. Your name is Jules.”

  “You’re one to talk about theatrics Mr Leather Pants. Why do you give a fuck what I get up to anyway? Just bury yourself in your little club like you always do, which, by the way, you wouldn’t even have if it wasn’t for me. When we first met you were an innocent little vanilla boy.” She smiled nastily. “Well, maybe not so little, but you were on my leash long before anyone was on yours. You should be paying me royalties for that idea.”

  “Fine, this club is all down to you, Queen Jules. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “There, wasn’t so hard, was it? Anyway, I’d better be off. I’m on a schedule.”

  He placed himself before the door, blocking her exit. “Where are you going?”

  “As if I’m going to tell you.”

  “Stay away from Devon.”

  “Why do you keep going on about Devon?”

  “Because, as you know, Rachel and Ryan Law live there. They destroyed Alex Maguire and his crew so do you think you’ll pose them any problems?”

  “Get out of my way.”

  “Not until you tell me where you’re going.”

  The blade was pressed against his throat with lightening speed and he was helpless to stop it.

  “Stay out of my business,” she spat.

  “If you think your little knives will protect you against the Laws then you’re a fucking idiot.” She pressed the blade harder against his neck but he stood his ground. “Go on then, do it,” he challenged. “Get me out of your life once and for all.” He took a step towards her and she slackened the pressure on his neck.

  She sighed and replaced the blade in the sheath then punched him in the face, snapping his head back. “I repeat, stay out of my business.”

  He glared at her, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth where her chunky silver skull ring had cut him. The look in his eyes warned her of what was to come but the blow still knocked her sideways onto the desk. When he advanced on her she kicked him in the chest but he dodged the follow-up punch, grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her against the wall, knocking the air from her body. As the pain shot through her she arched her spine, a moan leaving her lips.

  “You’ve still got it,” she groaned, undulating her body, enjoying the sensation.

  Dane didn’t respond, eyes hard and fists bunched as he watched her. He made a grab for her arm but she caught it and kicked him in the stomach before punching him in the face. His response was to wrench himself free, grab her by the hair then slam her face down on the desk, the impact sending more pleasurable pangs racing through her body. Something tight was applied to her neck then she was pulled upright by it, grimacing when it was yanked hard against her throat.

  “Now it’s you on
my leash, bitch,” he growled in her ear.

  Planting both feet on the desk she pushed, sending them both staggering backwards but he maintained hold of the leash, gripping it so tightly she was unable to free herself.

  “Let go,” she spat, twisting and hissing on the end of the leash.

  “No.” He pulled it even tighter and she went still when she felt his hot breath on her neck, the adrenaline and pain shooting through her body combining to create a fizzing cocktail that threatened to explode.

  “You make me so fucking mad I could kill you,” he said, pressing his body against hers.

  “What are you waiting for?” she said.

  Her threw her back onto the desk face up and pinned her hands over her head.

  “I’m tempted,” he said. “I’m sure it would save a lot of people a lot of pain, assassin.”

  She looked up at him with her arrogant smile. “You keep talking about it but you don’t have the balls to do it.”

  “Yes I do. I just don’t want to.”

  He kissed her hard, releasing her hands, groaning when her long nails raked down his bare back.

  “Hit me,” he said.

  She slapped him across the face.

  “Properly.”

  This time he received a full-on punch and he kissed her with renewed aggression, tugging down her jeans with one hand while she unfastened his trousers.

  “It’s been too long Jules,” he groaned as he slammed into her.

  “Shut up and fuck me.”

  “Fine,” he spat. He pulled out of her, flipped her onto her front, yanking so hard on the leash she was arched backwards, supporting herself by planting her fingertips on the desk.

  As he pounded into her Jules found herself face to face with that sea of glass, the entire club laid out before her and she experienced a twisted pleasure that she was doing this so close to all his clueless customers.

  It was violent and aggressive between them, as it always was, but fuelled by passion as they hurled each other around the room, both tender and destructive, just like their feelings for each other.

  Just before she came Dane wrapped one hand around her throat and squeezed, putting pressure on the carotid arteries either side of her windpipe. The immediate lack of oxygen ripped the orgasm from her and he released her neck just before it hit, letting the blood flow to the brain again.

  “Jules,” he groaned as he came inside her, pulling her head back roughly by her hair, which he struggled to get a grip on because it was much shorter than it used to be.

  Dane watched her carefully as she shuddered and shook in his arms. She didn’t know it but during orgasm was the only time the emotional scar tissue fell away to reveal the real woman underneath. Jules hung onto him, nestling into him, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his body. He didn’t dare move, hardly dared breathe in case he broke the spell and the shutters came back down and she would leave.

  When her heart rate and breathing slowed she pushed him away, just like he knew she would, struggling to release herself from his embrace, and she began retrieving her clothes from various parts of the room.

  Dane watched her dress in silence, as always fascinated by the almost full length python tattooed on her skin. Its tail started just above her right knee, snaking up her thigh and over her waist, it’s thick body coiling around her stomach, neck stretching up her right arm, head coming down over her shoulder, the face staring at him with red eyes, mouth stretched wide open to reveal two vicious fangs dripping poison. Venom incarnate.

  On the back of her left shoulder was tattooed the name Cara, framed with roses. The only person she’d truly loved her entire life.

  “Is that terrible haircut part of your disguise?” he said derisively.

  “What do you think?” she muttered, pulling her hoodie back on.

  As she fastened up her jeans he grabbed her roughly by the chin, tugging up her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I have somewhere you can go until all this blows over. You’ll be safe.”

  “Do you think Mikey Maguire will ever forget about me, because I don’t.”

  “He will eventually.”

  “I’ll never be safe, no matter how much time elapses and I’m not running away, I have things to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “Nothing you need concern yourself with.”

  “I am concerned.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I care about you. Fuck knows why but I do.”

  “Touching,” she said sarcastically.

  “Why can you never say it back?”

  “Maybe I don’t feel the same.”

  He squeezed her chin harder, making her wince. “Yes you do but you’re incapable of showing it.”

  She slapped his hand away. “Don’t go there.”

  “Why not?”

  “If you want a nauseating conversation about feelings you’re talking to the wrong woman.”

  He grabbed her by both shoulders. “For fuck’s sake Jules will you talk to me? You’re going and I might never see you again.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “After everything we’ve been through you don’t give a shit, do you? Does anyone mean anything to you?”

  “You’re pushing me Dane. Stop it.”

  The look in her eyes told him she was done playing and he released her.

  “Fine. Go on then, leave,” he said, stepping aside, “but if you get into trouble don’t come running to me.”

  “When have I ever?”

  “Sorry, I forgot you’re big, tough psychopathic Venom, afraid of no one. But I’ve seen the real woman underneath, the Jules who can feel and laugh. Why can’t you be her more often?”

  Jules rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Thanks for the shag, it was good, as always,” she said before striding for the door.

  “Jules?”

  She stopped and turned to face him with a dark look. “What?”

  “Look after yourself.”

  Her gaze softened slightly. “Do yourself a favour and forget about me.”

  “You make it sound like you’re not coming back.”

  “Who knows what’s going to happen?” The nastiness returned. “No doubt you’ll get lots of comfort from your bitches. How many are you going to have on the end of your leash tonight?”

  “I’m sure two people live inside you,” he frowned.

  “You sound like my psychiatrist,” she said before exiting, letting the metal door swing shut behind her.

  Dane filled the glass to the brim with vodka and sipped it thoughtfully as he watched Jules’s hooded figure make her way back across the dance floor towards the exit, her scent still upon his body and her taste on his lips. In all the years he’d known her he’d never worked out whether he wanted to kill her or marry her. Hatred and love waged war inside him and he’d no idea which one would win.

  Dread started to overtake him and he despised her for coming here tonight and giving him something to worry about just when everything was going so well. He had a very nice deal going with Mikey Maguire and Jez Law for his methamphetamine and if she went to Devon after Ryan and Rachel she’d kick up a huge shit storm and probably land him right in it at the same time. He’d told no one about their secret relationship, which had been on and off for years. Jasper certainly hadn’t wanted anyone to know his girlfriend had been cheating on him with his best friend so he’d kept it quiet too, but if Ryan and Rachel found out they would be very unimpressed. He was sure they wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate Jules if they thought she was a threat, she didn’t understand the Laws weren’t the usual thugs she was used to dealing with, they were a different breed. But what could he do?

  He put down the glass and picked up the mask. Fuck Jules and her agenda. She was a grown woman, she could deal with the consequences. After pulling on the mask Dane stared at his reflection in the sea of glass and wished he could be like this all the time; anonymous, hidden. He was unable to shake the feeling he was about to be dragged into something
he would much rather be far away from.

  CHAPTER 16

  When the doorbell rang Ryan tensed, one hand on the knife hidden in the pocket of his jogging bottoms. Cautiously he approached the door, standing to one side in order to peer through the spy hole. The security in this house was inadequate, which was one reason why he couldn’t wait to get into the new house with its top of the range alarm system, motion sensors and secure entry, he’d see anyone coming a mile off. Here they were only aware someone was approaching when they were knocking on the front door. They were getting an alarm system installed in this house the following day but he knew it would only give him partial comfort.

  He peered through the spyhole and sighed before flinging it open. “Lexie, what do you want?”

  “That’s no way to greet a long lost sister,” said the glamorous blond, removing her expensive designer sunglasses to reveal pretty light green eyes.

  “Do excuse me,” he replied, hostility rolling off him in waves. “Hello, what do you want?”

  “To meet my extended family. You’re looking good Ryan,” she said, stepping past him into the house. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

  “I didn’t invite you in.”

  “You’re going to keep your little sister standing on the doorstep?” She released a peal of laughter. “Who’d have thought we’d ever call each other brother and sister after the things we got up to.” She ran a hand through her short blond hair, the highlights shining.

  “I don’t know, I barely remember.”

  “Don’t give me that Ryan. I know you remember us writhing about together in the back of your car as well as I do.”

  “Actually I don’t,” he retorted.

  “Yeah, right. You couldn’t get enough of me.”

  “Ryan, who’s this?” said a cool voice.

  He turned to see Rachel standing in the hallway behind him. “Lexie, this is my wife Rachel, Rachel, this is Lexie Cutter.”

  She relaxed. “Your sister.” Rachel stepped past Ryan to greet her. “So nice to meet you at last.”