by Lee, Mandy
‘Claudine.’
‘Whatever. That did the trick.’
Because I called Lily.
‘I was with her, Maya. Right by Miss Babbage’s skinny little side, all sweaty and naked and post-coital, listening in on your blathering.’
He raises his head, pinning me down with those flint-like eyes. Serious now, he lowers his voice.
‘Now, I’ve asked you before … and I’m asking you again … did you enjoy New York?’
I won’t give him the pleasure of a response. Seeing as he already knows the answer, I don’t see any point.
‘Lost for words, eh?’ He leans back. ‘You should have told me the truth. I don’t like it when you lie to me. It’s very hurtful.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to wait, of course.’ He frowns at me. ‘For Mr Swanky Pants.’
‘What?’
‘He’ll be here soon.’ He points at Lily’s phone. ‘I didn’t just trick you with that thing.’
He wanders off, checking the plastic sheeting, eyeing up the contents of the room, leaving me to deal with another bout of shock and tears. I should have known it. I’m in his grasp again, but that was never going to be enough. No. Boyd won’t rest easy until he’s eliminated the threat, and he’s clearly determined to do it in front of me. In a split second, the life I should have had disintegrates into dust, shock gives way to grief, and my heart breaks for Dan, for his unborn child, for everything that’s good in this world.
‘I’ve had this place in mind for a while.’ Boyd returns to me, kicking at my foot and demanding my attention. ‘Perfect location for a showdown. Lily Babbage, she’s got more money than sense, that girl, and she’s picky too. I thought I’d never hear the end of it, all those plans.’ Ignoring my tears, he goes on as if he’s chatting to his best mate. ‘She’s always over here, you know, demanding personal attention from the boss. Oh, I’m not sure about the lighting. Maybe I should change the bathroom. No, no, no, that kitchen’s never going to do. And that window’s not right.’ He points at the plastic sheeting. ‘How can a window not be right? I ask you.’ He shrugs. ‘Anyhow, she wants to see him again … tonight. She’s sent him a text, as usual, and she won’t take no for an answer, as usual. Well, I say she sent him a text. I mean me, of course.’
He checks his watch.
‘So, here’s what happens next. Mr Foster arrives downstairs, probably with that big chunky bodyguard. He’s greeted by the night watchman, who’s actually my night watchman, your driver … and a gun. The bodyguard’s held at gun point, Swanky Pants takes the lift to the top floor, otherwise, bang, the chunky fella’s dead. And then that door opens … and then, well …’
He pulls a black handgun out of his pocket.
‘Browning 9mm. I won’t bore you with the finer details. I’m more of a shotgun man, really, but I’ve done a wee bit of target practice and I have to say, I’m not too bad.’ He raises it, narrows his eyes and aims it at the lift door. ‘I should have prepared a speech really. You know, the final bad-guy speech. Because I am the bad guy in all this, aren’t I?’ He sits next to me. ‘Trouble is the bad guy always gets foiled, right at the last minute. He’s so busy with his final speech, it gives the hero time to fight back. Big mistake. But I’m sorely tempted.’ Clearly restless, he stands again. ‘So, Mr Foster, you’ve annoyed me for long enough ...’
I hear the whir of the lift mechanism.
‘Oh, here we go,’ Boyd announces. ‘Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt … and Daniel Foster’s dead.’
Chapter Nineteen
He levels the gun at the lift door. The seconds lengthen, drawing out to breaking point, and I register sounds, disparate and unreal. Shallow breaths. The quiet thrum of the lift. A siren wailing. The rumble of London’s traffic. The squeal of a train.
And then it’s all gone, muffled by terror.
I watch from a distance, as if I’m really not here. I’m locked inside my head, in a nowhere land. The door opens. He’s standing in full view, wary, scanning the room, taking in Boyd, the building debris, the open space where a window should be. And then his eyes lock onto mine.
‘Oh come on out, Daniel,’ Boyd calls, carelessly waving the gun. ‘It’s no use staying in there.’
Keeping his vision anchored on me, he advances out of the lift, slow and silent, coming to a halt about ten feet away from Boyd.
‘Put your hands up,’ Boyd orders.
‘They’ve already frisked me.’
‘I don’t care. Hande hoch.’
Dan raises his arms. Breaking eye contact, he scours the room again, quickly searching for possibilities and probably finding none, before he focusses back on me. Lips part. Eyes soften. He’s made up his mind. These could be our last few moments together, and he’s not prepared to waste them on Boyd. Instead, he’ll spend them with me.
‘Nice to see you again.’ Boyd’s words grate against my ears. ‘You’re looking well. Isn’t he looking well, Maya?’
I ignore him. I’m entirely with Dan, silent, defiant, denying Boyd’s existence, not giving him the pleasure of a reaction. But like an irritating insect, his voice continues to buzz around my head.
‘Not bad going. An excellent recovery. I’m impressed.’
Dan smiles, but not at Boyd’s words … at me. And in those few seconds, I see it all: a confirmation of his love, his admiration, his faith. Through the tears, I return it all, a hundredfold.
‘I don’t like being blanked,’ Boyd growls. ‘If you don’t want Maya to suffer, look at me.’
With a flicker of the eyelids, Dan gives me the slightest of nods – a silent goodbye, perhaps. And then, he faces Boyd, full-on, utter contempt taking up residence on his face.
Satisfied he’s finally the centre of attention, Boyd waves the gun.
‘Well done on surviving the crash, but not so well done on trying to dupe me. Careless work. And don’t bother trying to argue the toss. I know it all.’
‘You don’t know anything.’
‘I warned you not to mess with me. You think you’re so clever, but guess what? You’re not as clever as me.’ He moves forward, training the gun back on Dan’s chest. ‘Tell him, Maya,’ he bleats. ‘Tell him how I know. Tell him how I did this.’
I have no choice. It’s clear from his face he expects me to answer.
‘Lily,’ I whisper. ‘He’s been seeing her. I called her … a few weeks ago. I gave it all away. I’m sorry. And now he’s got her phone. He used it to get us both here.’
Dan’s lips twitch.
‘Where is she?’ he demands.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ Boyd snarls.
‘If you’ve harmed her …’
‘You’ve only got yourself to blame, not that you can do anything about it now. You’re about to die.’
My heart falters. My lungs flail. I want to scream, but I can’t. My body’s refusing to follow orders again.
‘I knew. Right from the start. I knew.’ The temptation’s clearly too much for Boyd. He can’t resist a little ‘evil villain’ gloating. ‘Let’s talk about Mr Finn, for example, the one who’s apparently buying that shitty little gallery, the one you sent in on her birthday.’ He waves the gun at me. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t investigate? Did you think I wouldn’t find out he was at Cambridge with you? Stupid, fatal mistake, Mr Swanky Pants. And then New York.’ He tuts and shakes his head. ‘Dearie me. A brazen act of defiance.’
‘I didn’t see him in New York,’ I tell him.
‘Oh, shut the fuck up, Maya,’ Boyd spits. ‘Don’t you get it? I had no proof of that, not until Carl sang like a canary.’
‘Get on with it,’ Dan interrupts. ‘If you’re going to shoot me, just get the fuck on with it. I’m sick of your voice.’
‘What?’ Boyd opens his mouth in pantomime disbelief. ‘No bargaining?’
‘What’s the point?’
He cocks his head to one side, examining Dan, trying to work out if he means it or
not.
‘Look at that, Maya,’ he says at last. ‘When it comes to the crunch, Mr Wonderful just rolls over and gives up. I’ve got to ask, old boy. Do you actually want to die?’
‘If I can’t have Maya,’ he says quietly, ‘then I don’t want to live.’
‘Oh, come along now.’
‘And as long as she lives, I don’t care what happens to me.’
‘But she’ll be mine,’ Boyd taunts him, clicking back the safety mechanism, his hand unsteady.
‘Not for long.’
‘Oh, those friends of yours.’
Bill, Gordon, Clive. Dodgy connections, money and a fierce loyalty. I don’t doubt that retribution will come, and quickly too. But not soon enough.
‘They won’t stop until they’ve found you,’ Dan smiles. ‘And they won’t stop until you’re dead.’ He looks at me, softening his voice. ‘And they won’t stop until you’re safe. I promise. I love you, Maya. I’ll always love you. Whatever happens, remember that.’
Short, sharp breaths catch against my throat. I don’t want to remember. I want to experience it … every single day of my life. And there’s someone else who needs his love and protection. His child. If Boyd never faces retribution, there’s no way he’ll let me keep this baby. Another life damaged by hatred. History repeating itself.
‘She’ll forget you before the week’s out,’ Boyd crows.
‘She’ll never forget me,’ Dan affirms, his attention secured on my face.
‘No,’ I rasp, fighting back a maelstrom of emotion. He can’t die without knowing about our child. There’s no way I’m letting it end like this. ‘No.’ I turn to Boyd, ready to beg one last time. ‘I’ll come with you. Just leave him. There’s no need to do this.’
‘Oh, there’s every need to do this,’ Boyd replies. ‘My doctor once told me to remove all the negative influences in my life.’
‘What made you like this?’ I sob. ‘What fucked you up so much?’
‘I’m not fucked up. I had the perfect childhood, unlike this one.’ He motions the gun at Dan. ‘And yes, I do know about that. Lily told me everything. Very sad. But it’s just the way the world works. Some of us take whatever we want, and some of us have everything taken away. If anyone around here’s fucked up, Maya, then it’s him. He’s covering it all up, but it’ll come out in the end. I’m doing you a favour. I’m saving you.’
‘Please.’
‘Enough,’ Boyd snaps. ‘Shut … your … mouth.’
I look back at Dan. The clouds part again and I catch it in a few moments of moonlight: the slightest movement in his eyes, towards the workbench.
My heart begins to race. I get it. He’s not giving up at all. In fact, at the very least, he’s planning on going out with a fight, and I have my part to play. Determined to do everything in my power to help, I stretch out my legs, slowly, carefully, realising I can just about reach the bench. It’s definitely a long shot, but when I kick, if I kick hard enough, I might be able to provide a second’s worth of distraction. I just need to wait for my cue.
Dan raises his arms further into the air.
‘Any last words?’ Boyd asks with a smile.
‘Just one.’ Dan smiles back. ‘Kick.’
Before I can make a move, a shot rips through the air. I give a start, realising it’s distant, coming from outside. And then I notice Boyd’s confusion. While he glances at the lift, I lash out, kicking at the bench with all my might.
A screech of metal against concrete.
The bench keels over, taking the drill with it.
On top of the gunshot, it diverts Boyd’s attention for long enough. Springing into action, Dan hurls himself at Boyd’s legs and brings him to the floor.
Almost immediately, I hear a second shot, deafening this time, leaving me stunned for a moment before I understand what’s happened. Boyd’s managed to fire the gun. Blinking back tears, I scramble to my knees, and peer into the shadows, breathing out with relief when I realise the bullet didn’t find its mark.
Both men are still moving, wrestling each other, writhing on the floor, throwing punches whenever they can. I have no idea how it happens, but the gun’s dislodged. Clattering past me, it skates to a halt next to the lift. I’m staring at it, wondering if there’s enough time to get over there and grab hold of it when the lift mechanism kicks into life. Someone’s on their way up.
Sixty seconds. That’s all I’ve got. And I’ll never make it. If that’s one of Boyd’s lackeys coming to lend a hand, we’re finished.
Counting in my head, I look back, just in time to watch Dan stagger to his feet, closely followed by Boyd. Neither of them wastes any time, immediately hurling themselves into another struggle.
Ten seconds …
Boyd’s slammed against the wall, and while Dan rains a succession of vicious blows into his stomach, he raises his hands, obviously aiming for his opponent’s eyes. The blows stop. Instinctively, Dan protects himself and Boyd takes his chance, throwing a punch at his chest, sending him backwards, staggering into buckets and falling on his back.
Twenty …
Boyd’s on top of him now, pounding a fist into his face, but somehow Dan manages to wrap a hand around his throat and push him back. Both men roll, stumbling to their feet in unison. Locking together again, they pitch towards the windows, and my heart hammers at my rib cage. Before I can make out who’s got the upper hand, they wheel further towards the plastic sheeting. Either one, or both of them are about to go over the edge. I’m certain of it.
Thirty …
I need to act. And I need to do it now.
Still on my knees, I shuffle to my handbag and nudge it over, spilling the contents across the floor. Straight away, I spot the rape alarm. Manoeuvring myself into position, I pick it up, fumbling blindly behind my back until, at last, I manage to press the button. Immediately, a screech rips through the air, continuing even when I drop the alarm. I look up … and freeze.
There’s only one body silhouetted against the moonlight now. Through the tears, I can barely make out who it is. Pulse racing, I do my best to focus.
The clouds part again.
‘Oh, thank God.’
He’s standing absolutely still, rigid, holding on to the window frame, bent forward slightly and staring down at the ground ten floors below.
‘The lift!’ I shout, eager to knock him back into action. ‘Dan, there’s somebody coming up!’
Gathering his senses, he checks on me, and then the lift. But it’s too late. The door opens.
I hold my breath, then slump in relief at the sight of Beefy, holding a gun. I have no time to ask what’s going on. Dan staggers towards me, crashing to his knees, silencing the alarm and pulling me into his arms. Folded in his warmth, held tight as if he’ll never let me go again, I begin to shake and sob while he rocks me gently, soothing me back to life. At first, all I can hear is the thudding of his heart, the deep gasping of his lungs. And then, as the tears die away and we both steady ourselves, the sounds of the city return: a passenger jet soaring overhead; a train scraping along tracks; the distant roar of traffic.
At last, I hear Dan’s voice.
‘It’s over. He’s gone.’ He pulls away and checks my face, my throat, my arms. ‘Are you okay?’
I nod.
‘It’s over,’ he repeats. ‘It’s over.’
‘Untie me.’
I turn slightly, allowing him access to my hands. As soon as I’m freed, I run a hand through his hair and inspect the damage. A bloody nose, a bruise emerging on his left cheek, an eye that seems to be swelling.
‘You need to get checked out.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You don’t look it,’ Beefy intervenes.
I glance up at him, realising for the first time that Carl’s by his side.
‘What’s he doing here?’ Dan spits.
‘He came to his senses,’ Beefy explains.
‘Came to his senses? He brought Maya down here. I should rip his fu
cking throat out.’
‘Calm down. Once he realised what Boyd was going to do, he swapped sides. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t have Boyd’s minion handcuffed to a gate downstairs.’
Dan’s body grows tense. Certain he’s about to carry out his threat, I grab him by the arm and somehow manage to hold him in place.
‘Leave it,’ I plead. ‘He had no choice.’
Tightening my grip, I give him a determined glare. There’s been enough violence and I’ll be damned if there’s any more. While Beefy and Carl go to the window, I wait for Dan to relax, only letting go of him when I’m satisfied.
‘What happened? I didn’t see.’
He stares at me, breathing deeply, his face taut.
‘I killed him.’
‘You fought. It was self-defence, an accident.’
‘No.’ He wipes blood from his nose with the back of his hand, and stares at the floor.
‘The alarm went off, he looked away and I saw an opportunity … I pushed him out of that window.’ He pauses, just long enough for me to process the information. ‘I killed him, Maya.’
I put a palm to his cheek.
‘You’re confused. You did what you needed to do.’
‘I did what I wanted to do.’ His eyes search mine for understanding. ‘I hated him and I wanted him dead. That’s the truth.’
I frown.
‘But you didn’t plan it?’
His breathing quickens again.
‘No.’
‘It was a split-second thing?’
‘But I made a choice.’ He bites at his bottom lip, a fruitless attempt to maintain control. It doesn’t work. A tear betrays him, sliding down his cheek, and then another. ‘I couldn’t have him tormenting you, not any more. I couldn’t …’
I pull him into my arms, letting him dig his head into my neck, immediately giving him the words he needs to hear.
‘I understand, completely.’
It’s the only thing to say. Because I made him promise not to go down that route, but in heat of the moment, he took his chance and put an end to a life – a fact he could have kept from me – but he’s chosen to tell me the truth. And he thinks I’ll hate him for it. But it’s not that simple any more, because I have this new life inside me, a new urge to protect, a deeper, unshakable love for the man kneeling in front of me. Boyd threatened to destroy it all, and I’m glad he’s gone. In the last few hours, my world’s shifted on its axis, a move so slight it’s barely noticeable … and it’s taken my moral compass with it.