Fury - Page 83

“You’re welcome, doll.”

I didn’t turn around again. I couldn’t let him see the tears that dripped down my face.

Chapter Thirty Eight

I watched her go. Again. Watched her walk away from me. And this time I could have stopped it, could have said something to make her come back. But I didn’t. I just let her go. Gradually her frame disappeared from my view, the navy suit that pulled across her arse, the navy jacket that pinched in at her waist. Everything I’d missed so desperately, yet denied myself of the next chance I got.

I didn’t know why. Why I just couldn’t say what she needed to hear. Maybe it was the fear she’d leave again, that I couldn’t feel like this again. That it was easier not to let her back into my life, because she could walk out again at any time. Fuck. I’d wanted her back, my brain and my cock thinking of no one else but her, for all those weeks. But right then, I just couldn’t tell her. The words clammed up. Fuck.

The truck rumbled noisily, pedestrians staring at me, unable to see me through the tinted glass, but I could see them. Watching, most looking at the noisy truck with contempt, with sneers. I might as well be out there in the street in my leathers and my cut. And maybe that’s why I couldn’t bring myself to stop her from walking away from me. Knowing we weren’t the same breed. Nudging the recovery truck into gear, I rumbled away from the curb, winding through the myriad of one-way streets till I was moving southeast through the city, back to the abandoned industrial estate and the three fuckers who were waiting for me.

They were kneeling when I got back. Their wrists bound behind their backs with the same blue rope they’d tied Heidi with.

“You rang Dave?” I asked the men who stood around them.

“Aye. Depending how much of a clean-up we need, he’s got a couple of fresh graves in Leverett’s graveyard,” Magnet answered, his voice muffled behind the helmet.

“Good. Leverett ain’t gonna say no. Not after we got him off those fraud charges. He’s in our debt for the rest of his life now.”

“Can we get on with this, then?” one twin whinged. “Feel like I’m fucking suffocating in this thing.”

“Quit whinging like a bitch,” I warned, stepping forward and inspecting the men on their knees. “Who are you?” I asked, watching them all stare up at me, expressionless, accepting, but not scared, not obviously.

Professionals. Possibly. Although professionals would have done a better job, and I thanked all the fucked-up Gods out there that this lot were shit. Otherwise, Heidi would have been long dead.

“Fine. Who employed you?” Nothing. Still silence. “Look, fellas. I want to know who hired you. Tell me that I’ll cut you loose and you’re free to go. Don’t tell me and I’ll make you eat your own eyes.”

One of them faltered, just a little. A tiny flicker of fear across his face. But then it was gone, and he breathed.

“Fuck it. Demon. Give them a demonstration.”

Demon nodded, stepping forward and slamming his fist into the man kneeling before us on the right-hand side. He yelled, his nose exploding, falling backwards onto his back. Demon pulled him to his feet, giving him just enough time to sway left and right before another fist slammed into his face, and then again, and again, the man squealing like a pig at a slaughterhouse. And then when the man crumpled to the floor, the wailing stopped, his body not quite limp. Demon jumped on top of him. The men in the helmets didn’t falter, only the twins shifting slightly, their first real taste of Demon the monster. At our feet, the man convulsed, a hideous scream ripping from his body, and then a gurgling noise. And then quiet.

I glanced down at the mess, the man’s face barely recognisable. A hole where his eye had once been.

“Now,” I started again, my voice a growl in the warehouse’s silence. “Who hired you?”

The man kneeling on the left hiccupped and gasped. The one in the middle stared at me with disgust and fear. As it should be.

“My boss,” lefty choked out on shaky words.

“And who is that?”

“Mike Mason.”

“Uh, huh? And who the fuck is that?”

“The Masons? You haven’t heard of the Masons?”

“Nee fucking idea who they are.”

“Group east end gangsters. This is our patch.”

“The fuck it’s not.” Demon stepped forward, his forearms tense and the men on the floor at our feet stuttered, shuffling backwards on their knees.

I held my hand out, not letting him get closer. He’d done his job. The fuckers in front of us were petrified.

“What has that got to do with Heidi Fischer?”