Dauntless (The LockDown Series Book 2) (2 page)

Abigail has no clue whatsoever, that every day when I come home from work, where she thought I was doing paperwork, I was actually in the field, with my men, or some of them at least, killing anyone who fucked with me, anyone who got in my way or interfered with the job at hand. She doesn’t even know that the real reason I am not in contact with my family is because they refuse to associate with me, associate with the
raging psychopath
I cover up so easily.

I have never once delayed in pulling the trigger or plunging a knife into someone’s carotid artery, and I haven’t once regretted or thought twice about it afterwards. Then I go home, clean myself off, and fuck my beautiful woman like the good little slut I now know her to be.

I put my thumb to the control on my steering wheel, turning the CD player up loud to an ear splitting level. If an ambulance or cop car is behind me, wanting to pass, I won’t hear the sirens, and do you know what, I couldn’t give a shit, not in the damn slightest. Guns ‘n’ Roses ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ is playing through the speakers, penetrating my body, causing me to head-bang to the bass drum.

I am closing in on the slip road for the industrial area in which Phillip’s office is. He is a sneaky bastard for sure, trying to hide his little business venture away from prying eyes. But I’m not a total idiot, I have done my homework, well Thomas has done it for me. I know where every one of his men live, where they work, how much money and property they have and even how many fucking kids they have, including those hidden away from their wives.

The thumping in my heart has slowed down and is now tattooing a steady rhythm against my sternum. I have concluded what I will do with Abbi. She is fucking off, I will buy her a house. Sure, I wasn’t about to leave my child without a home, but the girl is gone. I don’t want her anywhere near me.

So, with one down and one to go, I take the third exit on the roundabout off the arterial road, and follow the country lane towards the industrial estate off Sycamore Street.

I can clearly see the huge sign for where I’m entering, most of the buildings for sale or just scrubbed off. As I park my car into a nice big space outside his office entrance, next to the huge shutters, I turn the ignition off. The normal sense of excitement and animalistic adrenalin kicks in, the sadistic smile frames my face like a damn Cheshire cat. I take in a deep breath and rub my hands up and down the contours on the surface.

I take my keys from the ignition and exit the car into the dark winter night. The fresh, crisp air inflates my lungs and stimulates me. I walk to the back of my car, popping the boot open to reveal the beautiful leather case inside. I rub my hand over the smooth surface. God I love this thing.

I click it open and inside sits my guns. Pristine, polished and much needed. I remove two of them, sliding the clips into place and cocking them ready. I slide one into the leg strap around my calf and the other in the holster beside my ribs. The one in the back of my trousers still sits readily.

God they feel so good, the weight giving me a sense of pride in my work. I thoroughly enjoy ridding this god-forsaken world of the vermin that lies around. Within a few minutes, another wanker, hopefully more, will bite the dust.

I close the case, clipping the locks back into place and
close the boot of my car with a nice loud slam. My fingers press firmly on the key fob, illuminating the barren car park with orange lights.

I don’t bother making a sneaky entrance, I don’t need an advantage. I pull the metal handle of the glass main door and yank it open. The clean scent of disinfectant and bleach hits my nostrils.

My only thought, as I walk past the empty main desk, towards the lit corridor is ‘the stupid fuck has an unattended reception’ and ‘I can’t wait to smell the copper tinge in the air as I leave through this very corridor.’

I am worried, sick to my stomach with an unnerving feeling that something is wrong. He is never home late, especially now Melissa is here. I would at least expect him to text or ring me just to let me know where he is and when he’ll be home.

He knows how much I worry for him, with his job being what it is and with Phillip and his gang of animals still alive and breathing. Every second of every day he isn’t home with me, I repeatedly look at the clock on the wall, constantly check my phone and the news for any sign that something awful has happened to him.

After my horrible failed attempt at calling a truce with Phillip three months ago, I have become anxious and panicky as a result. I know, deep down somewhere inside of me, that what I had thought would help may have actually made this whole fucked up situation worse. I am sitting around waiting for the day that they hit back at us again.

Our daughter Melissa is growing so quickly. She is the most precious and perfect thing I have ever seen in my entire life. She sleeps impeccably well during the night, leaving time for Leighton and me. Our relationship has continued to strengthen over the two months since her birth. He is persistent with his romantic gestures, bringing home flowers, chocolate or wine, now that I wasn’t pregnant.

I am undoubtedly the luckiest woman alive. I have the most amazing fiance
on earth, the most gorgeous little girl, who continues to develop and advance at a good pace and a network of family who are supportive and unconditionally loving.

I am pacing around the kitchen, Melissa attached to me feeding. I know I should be sitting down to stop her from getting air through with the milk, but I can’t. I pick my phone up from the side and dial the one person I know who might have a clue as to where Leighton is.

“Hey, sexy milf, you ‘kay?” Jesus, why does he insist on calling me that? It does nothing but make me hotter for him. We haven’t managed to do what we both have been craving for since our little foursome and it is frustrating me to no end.

“Hello, Antonio, have you heard from or seen Leighton at all today?” I lace my voice with worry and angst, so he knows not to joke around right now.

“I saw him at the restaurant around three, but I had to leave early because the kids are staying at ours tonight. Have you tried ringing him?” Antonio has become like a father to those three children, he loves them like they are
his own kids.

“I have, but there is no answer at all, just goes straight to voicemail. I’m seriously worried Ant, what if he’s hurt or worse? Oh God, I feel sick.” I am concocting all sorts of things up in my head, my imagination running a little wild and making me want to spew all over the kitchen floor tiles.

“Babe, stay calm. I’ll find the fucker, I always do. Do you want Debbie to pop over?” he asks me sweetly.

“No, it’s okay. Just find him Ant, I can’t lose him.” I am acting as though he is already gone. I have to remember that he is still living and breathing; he is still here with me. There was no way that Leighton would let himself depart from this earth without me knowing and letting him go.

“Okay, sweetheart, just look after that little girl and I’ll bring him home soon, okay? And have some dinner ready for me sweetness.” I roll my eyes at his requests, men and their bloody stomachs.

“Of course, I know you too well, Antonio Little. Now find him please.”

“Chat soon, Princess.” He hangs up the phone leaving me a little less anxious. If I know Ant like I think I do, then he will hunt this earth day and night to bring him home safe and well. There is no way he would stop searching until he finds Leighton.

“Your silly daddy needs to learn to answer his phone, doesn’t he Princess?” I speak to my daughter as her eyelids lay closed tightly, no way for any light to filter through them. Her gentle snores and the rising of her chest indicate her post feed sleep.

Like all babies, when their tummies are full, sleep overtakes them instinctively. Her thick blonde hair upon her head is soft against my bare chest, her warm breaths soothe my frozen feeling skin.

“Come on baby girl, off to bed for you.” I switch her to the opposite arm, replacing my breast back into my bra.

I walk through the kitchen, into the huge long hallway running through the mansion. I climb the grand staircase to her nursery. Every time I come into this room, I can’t stop the fluttering feeling in my stomach and the warming in my heart. Leighton had made this room perfect for me, accurate to my every dream.

I place her still tiny body into her cot, covering her with her soft blanket and kissing the top of her mop of hair. “Sleep well, Angel.” I switch the baby monitor on and take mine downstairs with me.

Arriving back in the kitchen, I retrieve a bottle of scotch from the cupboard, pouring myself a full glass rather than a slosh. The burn I feel through my entire body, as the liquid seeps its way down my throat and into my stomach, does nothing to settle the anxiety that has once again risen. I can feel myself beginning to panic, my breathing shortening and becoming sharp. The glass in my hand is almost crushing under the death grip I have on it.

I search desperately through the cupboard in the kitchen for the medication I have come to need like the air around me. I have become accustomed to popping one or two clonazepam in order to relieve the state I’d find myself in when something didn’t sit right. Unfortunately, that is becoming more and more often the case.

I find the blister of tablets in the medicine cupboard and pop two out onto my hand. I look down at them with regret as I lift them to my mouth and swallow them down whole with the scotch.

I am so thankful that Melissa has shown no sign of her own addiction, but I can’t survive without them right now. I need them. Leighton has no clue I have become as addicted as I have, in fact he doesn’t even know I still take them.

I sit down at the kitchen island, draining my glass of scotch and then refilling it to the brim again. I hope and pray that the liquid might bring me some kind of relief.

I walk through the only hallway in the building, to the only door that’s situated at the far end. I can’t hear a sound anywhere, the huge metal, clearly muffling any noise from the other side. How many people he has in there with him, I have no clue, but I know for a fucking fact the cunt is in there. The building wouldn’t be unlocked otherwise, unless he is seriously just that stupid.

I don’t bother knocking. I aim my glock towards the pin pad on the wall, blowing a gaping hole into it. The red light switches to a lovely welcoming green, making me smile sadistically at the upcoming events.

I lift my leg and boot through the metal with full force. Although heavy, the thing flies open and smashes against the wall.

I try to hold back the vomit rising in my throat as I see him screwing somebody on his desk; in the same revolting manner he had my fiancée. He has clearly heard the door busting open, he just isn’t bothered.

I aim my gun and shoot him in the leg without a second thought.

“Fuck.” I hear a high pitched scream through the room. The woman spread across his desk is none other than the delectable little slut I had once, okay many times, dipped my dick into. Abigail has no reason to know what I have had with Kalina, our relationship was a lot more complicated than I had made out, but I would never tell Abbi that.

Phillip drops to the floor, his cock falling against his stomach, somehow still hard. Oh, how I want to aim there and shoot the fucking thing off, but that would be far too easy and quick wouldn’t it?

“Now, Phillip, I never took you for being one to have sloppy seconds. But here we are, on the second of them now.”

“Leighton, what are you doing here?” I hear the voice once again from the Bulgarian beauty spread wide open on the desk.

“Oh, didn’t you know? Kalina, this lovely gentleman had a nice little dip inside my fiancée’s tight little cunt, and now, I get the privilege of ripping him apart. I see you’re also one for sloppy seconds Kalina.” I smile maliciously at her, tipping my head to the side. My gun is still aimed at Phillip’s writhing frame on the floor.

“Now, Phillip, this is what’s going to happen. I’m going to sit here, on this chair.” I drag the office chair to sit next to the desk, beside Kalina’s naked body. “And you’re going to place that disgusting mouth on her and make her cum, just like you did with Abbi, make her scream for you, beg for you like she did. And every minute that passes without her climaxing, I shoot you. Understood?” I don’t wait for his answer. I pick his naked body up from the floor and shove his face into her. “Good I’m glad we’re clear, now get to it.”