Chapter Ten
The Beast
“You could have called me,” I said, looking toward Ivan.
“And when I need you, trust me, I will call you.” Ivan was sitting in the far corner of the room, sipping a glass of whiskey.
This was not the kind of place I imagined Ivan seeming so comfortable. It was a rundown farmhouse where we’d taken shelter for the past couple of weeks. I truly didn’t get this man.
The boss of any Bratva did not spend time waiting for threats from a woman who was not even his kin, to help his Brigadier. All the Brigadiers, soldiers, associates, they bent over backward for the boss, for their king.
Ivan Volkov was their king, and yet, in a rundown farmhouse, after killing another two bounty hunters today, with The Butcher taking care of the cleanup, Ivan sat, drinking shitty whiskey after enjoying a boxed takeout meal. This man was full of surprises.
I was pissed off.
Ivan had approached me and The Butcher about taking over his section that had been left vacant from the betrayal of one of his Brigadiers. I knew why he’d approached us, but I didn’t like the offer he’d given us. The Butcher and I didn’t play well together. It didn’t help that I liked to have more kills than her, and I do believe she did in fact rival me on just how bloody she could be.
“So, all the work you had ready was for The Butcher?” I asked.
Ivan chuckled. “You’re feeling jealous.”
I glared at him.
I was aware that when I didn’t get a call to complete a job, it was simply because they needed The Butcher’s finesse. I took a drink of my whiskey. Or, they simply wanted to see her curvy fucking ass doing the hard work. I had a feeling Ivan wasn’t keeping The Butcher around because of her big tits and ass, though.
Ivan sighed and leaned forward. “I’ll break it down for you. You attract too much attention. The Butcher doesn’t attract a lot of attention. A lot of men and women will glance at her, but she is able to blend in. No one gives her a second glance.”
Trust me, I do, but then I know what she is capable of.
“For this, I needed her to distract and kill. I needed someone to get close and handle those kills without drawing attention. She could do that. You’re noticeable. You are a problem, which is why I only called you when the need for the duffel bag was necessary.”
And I had stuck around as well, because I didn’t like the possibility of The Butcher and Ivan getting close.
I couldn’t read this bastard. There were a lot of rumors surrounding him. Talk about him potentially already being with someone, having been married, or some shit. The details were never very clear, and the reason I stuck close to Ivan these past few months, and was even considering his offer, was because of how little I was able to learn.
Ivan took care of himself and his Bratva. He didn’t miss any corner, or leave any stone unturned. He looked at all the details. He knew the risks involved, but he kept doing it.
Like now, he wanted Peter to knock up Finn Byrne’s daughter. I didn’t even see why that was important to him. I got wanting to take out Finn as he was a threat, but how would knocking up his daughter accomplish that?
There was also another little more interesting business, like how the fuck did Ivan even know about Finn Byrne’s daughter?
Finn Byrne was a horrible bastard, cruel, and someone I’d considered very much evil. He kept the identity of his kids very quiet. No one could know about them. Yet, against those odds, Ivan had been able to find out exactly who Niamh was.
How the fuck did that happen? I’d even attempted to do some digging, and I couldn’t find anything. Everyone had a paper trail, everyone left a tiny crumb that was just sizeable enough to follow.
Not Ivan. It was why I respected the fuck out of him. He’d been the one and only person where I had to speculate about rumors, and try to piece together the man who sat before me.
“When I need a distraction of a volcano, you’ll be the first one I’ll call,” Ivan said.
I smiled, because in truth, I did like to make an entrance.
****
Peter
A Few Weeks Later
It was hot as fuck, and I decided to do something I had never done before. It was Sunday, which meant no diner, and no gym.
Niamh and I were in the clear, and to celebrate, I’d packed a little picnic. There was a small fair in town, out near the school’s football field.
There was a small park across from the small church and graveyard, along a small woodland. It was private, giving us some space away from the prying eyes of the locals. Although, there were several people still milling about.
Holding Niamh’s hand, I knew we’d become the local couple. It seemed to have broken down quite a few barriers, which I wasn’t entirely sure I was happy about, but I knew Niamh was happy, and I didn’t want to spoil it.
I also had a feeling Niamh was pregnant. We hadn’t stopped having sex, and I made sure each time that I came balls- deep inside her. Even stopping her from sucking my dick, so that I could complete my mission.
She wasn’t starting to show, however, she’d not had a menstrual cycle in nearly two months. I’d also noticed over the past couple of days, she did start to get tired, and a couple of times this week, she had started to experience morning sickness.
Neither of us had said anything. I wasn’t even sure if Niamh was aware of what was going on. I wasn’t going to spoil our fun by telling her what was happening. There would be plenty of time for that, I was sure of it.
The picnic I’d arranged wasn’t too bi g— a couple of sandwiches, some pastries. A few bits of finger foods I had organized at the local bakery. Nothing too special, but enough for both of us to enjoy. I’d also foregone the bottle of wine for a bottle of water. Niamh didn’t enjoy soda a lot.
Now, perched up against a tree, Niamh between my spread legs, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” she asked.
I knew what she was thinking as she’d mentioned it a few times over the past week. Our time in Pickle Quest was coming to an end. What Niamh didn’t know, was during this time, I’d killed an additional two men.
Ivan and this little group of killers had also dealt with several bounty hunters. I didn’t know what the fuck Finn offered them, but their dead rivals didn’t seem to stop them in their tracks, which fucking sucked big time. It pissed me off. And yet, there was nothing I could do about it.
All I could do was wait and hope Niamh stayed pregnant. She wasn’t ready to know she was pregnant, even though I had a feeling she did know.
“Yeah, we’ve been too busy for a long time. It’s nice just taking our time, slowing down.” I kissed the column of her neck. “Enjoying the views.”
She laughed.
Most Sundays we were naked, enjoying the view of each other. It had taken some time, but eventually I’d been able to break down her walls about being naked in front of me. She was so nervous and embarrassed about her body.
I’d spent an entire Sunday making love, kissing, and fucking every inch of her body. I didn’t give a fuck what other men said. Niamh was fucking beautiful, and I loved her large tits, the fullness of her thighs as they wrapped around me, how juicy her ass was. I didn’t want a woman who complained about how I was hurting her and seeing as I wasn’t a small man, that would undoubtedly happen. Niamh could take everything I gave her and beg for more, which was exactly how I liked it.
“There is something I wanted to talk to you about,” Niamh said.
“If this is about us moving, I already figured you wanted to move. Tomorrow? End of this week?”
“You’re not going to ask me why?” Niamh asked, moving so she faced me.
I reached out and cupped her cheek, stroking my thumb across the delicate skin. “Why would I ask you? You have your reasons, and I don’t care, just so long as I’m with you.”
I never watched romance movies. Niamh did, and I kind of picked up a few tips along the way. As long as I didn’t hold back my imaginary feelings for her, and spoke softly, she fell for everything I said.
I cared about Niamh, but I didn’t know what love was. I’d watched the movies with her, but again, the whole concept of love was so foreign to me. Love was a fairytale people spun to keep others in line.
“When do you want to leave?” I asked.
“Tomorrow. I have already handed in my notice. I can wait, if you need to give your notice at the gym,” Niamh said.
“No, that’s fine. We can both go.”
I was aware Niamh had handed in her notice. I’d seen her sneak downstairs late one night, and when she had fallen asleep, I went to see what she’d been doing, and sure enough, she was being thoughtful, even in running away. I still didn’t know how Finn Byrne was able to create such a daughter, but Niamh was nothing like her parents. She was kind, sweet, loving, charming, and everything I knew I should stay away from.
For whatever reason, Ivan had chosen her for me, and when the truth finally came out, Niamh was going to see that she’d been given to someone who would never be able to give her what she wanted. I didn’t do love. I was not her knight in shining armor. I was a killer through and through.
She leaned up and kissed me. “I need to use the bathroom.”
I held onto her hand, and she gave a little giggle as she pulled away, and I tried to hold on, but she let go.
“I’ll be right back.”
I watched her walk away, heading toward the small building near the church where the toilets were. Leaning against the tree, I took a deep breath, and as I did, my cell phone vibrated. I was tempted to ignore it. Whenever my cell phone went off, it usually meant bad news.
Niamh and I were having a good day.
She wasn’t going to be happy for long, if tomorrow she thought we were leaving. The truth was, I intended to drug her and take her back to my sector. I was convinced I had knocked her up.
Checking the caller, I saw it was Ivan. There was that temptation to ignore it completely, but he was the boss, and I still had to answer to him.
“Hello,” I said, being awfully polite.
“Where’s Niamh?” Ivan asked, and he didn’t sound happy.
This put me instantly on high alert as I sat up. “Why?”
“The slippery fuck made his way into town. Finn Byrne is in Pickle Quest. He intends to get Niamh.”
And that was when I heard it. The scream. Niamh’s scream.
I was on my feet running, and I already knew it was too late. I’d already dropped the cell phone in my hand and retrieved my gun.
One of Finn’s goons was shoving Niamh into the back of a blue truck. I ran as hard and as fast as I could. Aiming my gun, I took a shot, not going for the head, but the knee of the guy waiting to climb into the truck. The truck was already starting to pull away, and the deep growl of the man I shot echoed close to me.
Anger tore through me, as I looked up and watched Niamh fighting for her freedom. She was hit hard enough that she suddenly slumped to the ground. I was not close enough, even though I kept running, but it was no use. All I’d gotten was the guy I’d hurt.
I acted, I didn’t think.
Grabbing the bastard who was trying to get away, I pulled back my fist and hit him hard. I expected I was going to have to hit him again and again, but much to my surprise, he was knocked clean out with one punch.
As if by magic, there was no one around as I dragged his body to the back of my car. Slamming the trunk down, I was tempted to take one of my crowbars and start attacking the knocked-out bastard, but I knew that would not work.
I needed to think clearly right now. Killing him wouldn’t get me back to Niamh.
I’d done the ultimate mistake and let my fucking guard down and now, Niamh was back in her father’s clutches and I was pissed off.
I gathered up our picnic and saw that my cell phone was on the ground where I dropped it. I picked it up and expected the call to be ended, but Ivan was still on the line.
“They have her,” I said.
“We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I hang up, that was more than fine, because for the next twenty minutes, I was going to be busy.
****
Niamh
Peter had a gun. I’d seen that with my own two eyes.
Peter had been chasing me down, and he didn’t seem surprised that there had been men to take me. I should have known this was coming.
Fear traveled up my spine.
I’d already come to, inside the truck where they’d taken me. We were still driving so I didn’t know for sure how long I’d been out of it. There was silence in the car. No one was talking and I was staying perfectly still on the floor, while I came to terms with the fact that Peter had a gun. Why did Peter have a gun? He’d aimed it, of that I was sure. Surer than anything, which was crazy, because that would mean he knew exactly how to shoot a gun, and how was that possible if … he was just an ordinary guy who worked at a gym? My only conclusion could be that Peter wasn’t an ordinary guy.
The truck came to a stop and now I felt the panic rising My dad was not a nice guy even when everything was going his way. I’d been a runaway for awhile now, and he’d come to get me himself, which meant this was going to hurt.
My heart raced and I felt the tears coming, but tears and begging never helped me.
The back of the truck opened and I felt the other men climb out. I stayed perfectly still, trying to perfect my breathing in the hope he would ignore me.
I felt someone climb into the back of the truck and I knew without opening my eyes that it was my dad. He tutted and then pain exploded as he grabbed my hair and began to drag me out of the car. I couldn’t pretend anymore as he pulled at my hair. I tried to stop him, and had no choice but to follow him out.
At least he’d grabbed my hair in one chunk, but that didn’t stop it being painful. Pain filled my head from the force of his grip. I tried not to scream or whimper, but that was impossible. Even as I cleared the truck, he didn’t let go.
My father didn’t let go until I was on my knees, and then he used the grip he had on my hair to slap me hard, right across the face. Once one way, then going back the other way. He did that again, and my face was burning. I couldn’t get away, and no one was willing to help me. They were all my father’s minions. His goons.
Finally, he let me go, but this wasn’t for a reprieve. No, this was for him to kick me hard. I curled up in a ball, and his foot connected with my stomach and then my chest, and I turned over for him to stomp on my back.
“Useless fucking slut,” he said.
Then I heard his belt buckle.
“Please,” I said.
I should have known begging for mercy or asking him to stop wouldn’t do me any good.
“Please?” He burst out laughing and that was when I screamed.
The dress I wore didn’t provide any kind of protection from the buckle of his belt as it hit me. I was in for the beating of my life.
All the while, I couldn’t rid my mind of the memory of Peter with his gun. Who exactly was Peter Shadows?