Chapter Thirty Nine
My body shook, no matter what I did to stop it. A hot shower. A glass of gin. Five cigarettes. Nothing stopped my flesh from convulsing. I poured another drink, the neck of the clear bottle chinking off the lip of the tumbler, the sound tinkling in the room’s silence. Night had surrounded the hotel, a deep red sunset followed by thick darkness. Ever creeping darkness, like it was gathering around me, crushing me, suffocating me.
My heart pounded again, thundering in my chest, each beat pulling my ribs tighter, squeezing. I sank to the floor at the foot of the bed, staring out the windows I hadn’t blocked with the curtains. And I sobbed again, fresh tears flowing over the salty tracks left by the last lot. The tumbler pushed against my lips, my hand suddenly convulsing, splashing my face with the neat gin. Gin that burned my throat, stripping the top layer of cells off my palette.
Three big bangs at the door. I jumped. My heart stopped and started again. Casting a glance over my shoulder, all I could do was sit and look at it. Not able to get off my arse or onto my feet. The bangs came again, heavier and more urgent. I pulled at the duvet on the edge of the bed, wrapping the end around me protectively like it would muffle the sounds and send the person assaulting the hotel door away.
I hadn’t ordered room service, not since the bottle of gin. I wasn’t expecting anyone. I didn’t want to see anyone. I just wanted to sit here, till the gin washed away my memories, the feel of a needle against my skin, of my helpless arms pinned to a chair, of the men whose faces were covered in black. The balaclavas were all I could see every time I closed my eyes.
Another knock. A voice.
“Heidi. Heidi, it’s me. Let me in, doll.”
His voice. My heart fluttered, just enough to stutter the incessant thumping.
“Heidi. Let me in, please,” he said again.
I nodded. Even though he couldn’t see me unwrapping the duvet, draining the last of the gin in the tumbler and gagging as it burnt my throat and my tongue and my cheeks. My legs shook, like they were just columns of jelly, but slowly, shakily, I walked across the room. The chain rattled loudly as I slid it off, the lock turning, clunking in the frame like a heavy iron bolt. I tugged at the door, my arms too weak to pull it open very far, the heavy fire door sticking slightly on the carpet.
Fury stood on the other side, strands of hair dangling loose from the ponytail, dropping down his face. His t-shirt was ripped across the middle, the black material giving way to the bronzed tone of his skin underneath. I should have asked him if he was ok. If he was hurt. But instead, I stood there, gazing up at him, tears filling my eyes, clouding my vision, my body still shaking.
“Doll,” he whispered, stepping towards me. “Fuck. Look at you.”
I felt my bottom lip tremble, and the arms and hands that had never stopped shaking in the last few hours kicked up a notch. And then I felt his arms around me, his skin warm against mine, his body hard and strong, the embrace enveloping every inch of me. His scent was warm, familiar. Safe. I felt safe. Safe to let go of the terror that had plagued me, safe to let go of the anxiety and uncertainty, safe to admit I’d nearly been killed today and had no fucking life to show for it. That when my life flashed before my eyes, there were no memories of note. Only him. His smell, his voice, his flesh.
I sobbed. Wracking, shaking sobs into his chest. Fury didn’t move from me, didn’t say anything. He stroked my hair. His hand smoothing it continuously, his other holding me into him, holding me up.
I don’t know how long I stood in his arms. But eventually the sobs turned to hiccups, and my eyes were as dry as a desert, despite the tears I’d spilled into Fury’s chest. And now I was so tired. Fury coaxed me backwards a step, my legs wobbling, someone pulling the bones out of them altogether, and I faltered. His hands scooped around the back of my legs, lifting, picking me up and pulling me into his chest. And now I was warm, nestled against him, safe in those big arms. Taking the few steps towards the window, where the small settee looked out over the River Tyne, he carefully set me down.
Fury dropped to his knees, nestling between my legs, placing his hands on either side of my face and tilting it up to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft. Still dark, still deep with richness, flooded with concern, searching mine for answers to questions I didn’t know. His eyes roamed my face, brushing away the streaks of tears with the tip of his thumb. And then, gripping my face just a little harder, not enough to make me wince, but enough to inhale, he pushed his lips against mine. They were soft, tentative, gentle caresses, a little flick of his tongue, tasting, not eating me alive. A little pluck of my bottom lip, still gentle, slow. Different. It was like we’d never kissed before, and it was forbidden, and that one of us would pull away at any second.
I kissed back, feeling the heat of his mouth against mine, the chill that had set into my bones after he’d rescued me from the warehouse ebbing away, each brush of his lips and swish of his tongue making it retreat further. A ball of warmth settled in my chest, radiating outwards. And my body, which shook relentlessly, and my mind which had been swirling around like the drum of a washing machine, slowly, slowly became still.
Fury pulled away, his face not moving far, placing his forehead to mine and now we sat our eyes closed, listening to each other breathe. His breaths were slow and long, mine still erratic, an involuntary sob pulling at my chest every few seconds. But my heart was slowing, the pulsing against my ribs no longer hurting as it retreated deep inside my flesh.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Hmmm?” Fury asked, as if I’d pulled his mind from somewhere else.
“Thank you for saving me, Fury.”
“I’m sorry you needed to be saved.”
“I’m scared, Fury.”
“There’s nothing to be scared about. Not anymore.”
“They’ll come for me again.”
“They won’t, doll. No one will touch you ever again.”
“How do you know, Fury?” I searched his face, but there wasn’t a hint of arrogance. Just sincerity.
“I’ve made sure they can never hurt you again.”
I pulled backwards slightly, like having more space to look at him would confirm what I thought he was saying to me. But I couldn’t tell. His face was steady, his gaze unwavering. But I had to know. I had to know whether these men would come back for me, that whatever Fury had said to them would scare them off.
“What did you do?”
Fury’s eyes dropped to where his knees sank into the thick carpet. It was just a moment, just the tiniest movement, looking away from me. Then his eyes were back on mine, the dark orbs sharper now, keener.
“Do you really want to know, doll?”
“I do, Fury, please. I have to know.”
He sighed, dropping his eyes from mine again, only this time it was longer, like he couldn’t look me in the face.
“One of the three men who came after you is dead. His friends watch us kill him in front of them. A demonstration of what we would do to them if they ever even thought about going after you again.”
He killed someone. Fury’s hands were on my face. A killer’s hands.
“You killed someone?”
“I’ve killed lots of people, Heidi. I fought in the army. I pulled that trigger. People, men, dropped dead because of me. Some of them were innocent, they didn’t deserve it. But this fucker deserved it. And the rest of them needed to know they’d be next. But this time, it wasn’t me that made that man draw his last breath. But it was on my order.”
“Was it easy?” I whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“To give the order. To watch him die?”
“Yes,” Fury answered, his eyes fixed on mine again. His face wasn’t smug or proud. It was careful, matter of fact. “This time it was easy. Because then I knew you were safe. Or as safe as you could be till I found out who’d ordered them to come after you.”
“Ordered them?”
“Yes, doll. These people were sent after you. They didn’t just wake up and select you randomly off the street. They were sent to you.”
“And d…did you find out who that was?”
“Yes.” Fury looked away again, and I knew what was coming next was much worse.
“It was Gordon, wasn’t it?”
He shook his head, his gaze still on his thighs. “It was Mark, Heidi.”
“What? Why? Is he…”
“No, he’s not dead. He’ll have a black eye in the morning, and he’ll be rinsing blood out of that expensive white shirt of his. But he’s not dead.”
“Then he’ll still come after me, won’t he?”
Fury shook his head. “No Heidi. He was working with a local organised crime group called the Masons. Small fry compared to us. Those men that came after you were part of that. They now know never to come near you again.”
“Are you an OCG?” I asked the question that had been in the back of my mind for months, in my periphery, not quite within reach.
“No. But we don’t always do everything legally. We have connections, people who pay us to keep secrets safe.”
“Like Tommy?”
“Like Tommy,” Fury answered. “We don’t always come by items in the normal way. You could say we’re like Robin Hood and his merry men, just with bikes and leather, and perhaps slightly naughtier.”
Fury flashed a smile, a big wide grin, almost laughing at his own words, but with that grin came those dimples, lighting his face. The most beautiful face I’d ever seen. I leant towards him, reaching my hands up into his hair, and pulling his bobble free, letting the long dark hair spill around his shoulders. And then I pulled him to me, pushing my face towards him.
“I don’t care what you are, Fury. Or what the Kings are. I don’t give a fuck.”
He pushed his lips against me, not gently this time. Hot and fast, pulling and plucking at me, forcing his tongue into my mouth before I’d even had a moment to make space for it. His hands pushed at my shirt, pulling it out of the waistband of my skirt, his fingers skipping over the buttons. Fury broke the kiss and glanced down, fumbling on the shirt, swearing under his breath and then he yanked, the fabric screeching, a button hitting me in the forehead. But I didn’t care as his fingers dived on my breasts, tearing the satin that covered them free, dropping his head and sucking a nipple into his mouth. Tingles rushed across my chest, fiery, electrified, his fingers finding the other, swirling and moving as he sucked and licked.
I pushed myself into him, feeling the scratch of his beard against the sensitive skin prickling over my areola, and now those tingles cascaded all the way down my stomach to the space between my legs. I groaned loudly, and he sucked harder, scraping the very end with his teeth, making me jump.
I slid from the sofa, pulling the hem of my skirt up to my waist, straddling my legs over his thighs, and feeling the denim bulge pressing against me. I could just rock back and forth here, rub myself over him, and fuck how I need that, this, him. My fingers pushed at the bottom of his t-shirt, peeling it over his hardened torso, his hand breaking free of my boob just enough that he helped me get it off him. And once he was free again, his fingers back on me, winding across my back, flicking the clasp of my bra, the satin releasing and I pushed the straps down my arms.
For a moment, Fury pushed away from me, his eyes only on my breasts, his tongue dipping out and licking along his bottom lip, like he was starving. Then he dived forward, pushing his face into the middle of my chest, nipping and sucking at my flesh in a frenzied attack. And between my legs, that dull throbbing fire built, the wetness pooling against the lace covering my pussy, soaking the material.
Reaching underneath me, I felt for the button on his jeans, popping it loose and wrenching them open, the tip of his cock ready and waiting, a bead of pre-cum right at the very end. I swirled it over the satin tip, feeling over the bulge of his head and the throb of the veins on the underside. Fury growled into my chest. I edged my knickers to the side, sliding my wet pussy over the head.
“Heidi,” he warned, his words breathy. “I don’t have a condom.”
“I don’t care, Fury. I need you.” I slid down the shaft, the first inch pressing inside. “Now,” I moaned, another inch sliding in, the ridge at the base of his head prizing me open for the rest of him.
My insides boiled, stretched, yelled, and gasped as I slowly settled onto him, balancing onto his thighs, his entire shaft inside me. I stopped a moment, adjusting around him, closing my eyes at the heat and utter fullness, biting my lip as I tried to control the need to come on his cock right then. I needed this to last a little longer, to remember the way he made me feel, that no toy or other cock ever had.
I closed my eyes, gently rolling my hips back and forth, letting the orgasm build. But with each movement of my hips, Fury grunted into my neck, his hands tightening around my hips and the fire in my pussy grew and grew.
Fury’s pubic hair tickled at my clit, and I pushed myself forwards dragging it over his flesh with each movement. A hand wrapped lower, to the flesh of my arse, gripping painfully, and I shot forwards sending a bolt of electricity up my spine, a yell spilling from my throat.
“Fuck, Heidi,” Fury growled, forcing his hips and his cock up into me, filling and pummelling my flesh and I yelled out again, a strangled whimper, a veil of shadows crossing my eyes.
“Fuck!” he continued; each thrust accompanied with the word. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuuucck!”
Fury’s head dropped back, his hips still thrusting, filling me with the last drops of his cum, until he grunted for the last time, his arms clasping round by back and his lips finding mine. Then we kissed, little nibbles of the lips, the tips of tongues, our chests rising and falling together as I sat in his lap still filled with his cock.