Heller's Punishment (39 page)

“Well, it’s
done now,” said a dry voice behind me and I turned to find Will. I
raised my champagne glass to him and smiled with as much goodwill
as I could muster.

“Congratulations, Will. Penny looks . . . radiant. I wish you every
happiness together.”

“What’s going
on with you and that man you’ve brought along?”

“It’s none of
your business.”

He clutched my
arm firmly and hissed at me. “It
is
my business, Tilly. I
want to know who you’re screwing.”

“Let go of me!
People might be watching. It’s your
wedding
, for God’s sake.
Go back to your wife.”

He looked
around cautiously, loosened his grip on my arm and forced a smile
on his face. “Once again, thanks so much for coming, Tilly. It’s
lovely to see you again.” And he kissed me on my cheek.

“Thanks for
inviting me, Will. But I don’t want to hold you up. I’m sure you
have a lot of people to talk to.” And I turned away, pushed my way
through the crowd around Trent and dragged him by the hand to the
dance floor, ignoring the protests of his little band of
groupies.

“Altercation
with the ex?”

“Was it that
noticeable?”

“Only if you
were watching.” I glanced around over his shoulder as we danced and
caught Penny staring at me with a puzzled expression on her face. I
really hoped she hadn’t been watching. I wouldn’t want her special
day to be ruined by anything her cheating new husband did.

Trent and I
spent the rest of the evening dancing together, which at least had
the benefit of staving off the persistent attentions of Aunty Army
Sergeant.

“I’ve had
enough of this wedding, Tilly. We have to get out of here.”

“I agree.”

Fortunately for
us, the bride and groom started making their farewells at that
point. I gave both Penny and Will a warm kiss on the cheek when
they finally reached Trent and me, and congratulated them once
more.

“I can’t wait
to see you again. Have you made up your mind yet?” Will whispered
quickly in my ear, before moving on to the next couple. And the
thought of a man lusting after another woman at his own wedding
turned my stomach. I was ashamed all over again at how I’d behaved
that day with him. Nothing I could do would ever make up for that,
but at least I could ensure that I didn’t compound my error by
repeating it. I wouldn’t see Will again.

After about
thirty minutes the happy couple finally left, quickly followed by
us. Trent hadn’t drunk very much during the evening, so we headed
back to his car, which was parked a fair distance away. The streets
had been crowded when we arrived in the late afternoon, but were
now deserted in the dark evening, the clack of my high heels
echoing on the footpath.

He’d been
forced to park down a small laneway between businesses that had now
closed for the evening. He clicked on his remote key to open the
car, the flashing indicators silhouetting a bulky shadow that
stepped out in front of us. I shrieked in fright and Trent clutched
me harder around the waist. The sweeping beams of a distant car
turning illuminated the laneway for a brief moment and we both
recognised who was standing in front of us.

Beyrer.

Chapter
26

Oh hell!
I didn’t kid myself for a second that he’d waited in the dark to
have a friendly chat with us. We were in trouble, serious trouble.
We were also at a complete disadvantage, taken by surprise.
Think!
I urged myself. What weapons did we have? Nothing
except for Trent’s car key and a small canister of capsicum spray
in my handbag. I slowly slipped my hand down towards the clasp of
my bag. It was dark enough that I was able to do it without him
noticing.

Beyrer stalked
around us, brandishing an evil long-bladed knife and gloating at
our fear. “I’ve been following you fuckers for days, waiting and
waiting for my chance.”

He jabbed the
knife at Trent, and from the way Trent flinched, I think he might
have nicked him. It was hard to tell in the dark.

“You!” he
sneered. “Mr Bigshot TV Star! Think you can just ruin a man’s life
by getting him fired.”

He turned the
knife in my direction, jabbing it towards me as I raised my hand
from my bag with the capsicum spray. I pumped the canister in fury,
but only a weak squirt came out.
Shit!
It was empty. I must
have picked up an old canister by mistake from my dressing table.
Why wasn’t I tidier
, I reproached myself uselessly. I
redoubled my pumping effort and managed to get a feeble spurt of
the painful spray into Beyrer’s eyes, not enough to disable him in
any way, but just enough to really piss him off.

“
Run to the
car, Trent!
” I screamed while Beyrer was momentarily distracted
rubbing his eyes. He didn’t argue, but took off at lightning speed,
sprinting to the sanctuary of his car. I promptly followed him. But
affected by alcohol, I struggled to run in my high heels, wobbling
perilously, in danger of breaking an ankle in the dark laneway. The
spray didn’t diminish Beyrer’s reflexes and he was hot on my
heels.

Trent made it
safely to the car, but I didn’t. Beyrer grasped a handful of my
hair and jerked on it angrily, pulling me backwards to the ground.
I landed heavily on my butt, cursing myself. Impatiently, I pulled
off my high heels and threw them at Beyrer as he barged towards the
car, hoping that Trent had remembered to lock the doors.

The stiletto
heel of one of my shoes hit Beyrer in the side of the head.
Unsurprisingly, he didn’t appreciate that. He turned around to me,
then back to Trent, his tiny brain wrestling with the important
decision about which one of us to maim and kill first. The ache in
his head obviously swayed him towards me, and he ran back to me,
faster than I would have expected for a man of his size. He kicked
out, his gigantic steel-capped boot connecting with my hip
viciously.

“It’s all your
fault!” he yelled, swinging at me over and over with his boot. I
scrabbled frantically out the way, somehow dodging most of his
brutal kicks. “You think you’re hot shit, a real know-it-all, just
because you’re fucking the boss! You’re a slut! You’re nothing! I
was ten times the security officer you’ll ever be, you dumb bitch!”
He pulled out his knife again.

Trent flooded
the lane with his car lights and honked the horn in an attempt to
distract Beyrer from trying to kick me to death. It did the trick
in gaining his attention. He sheathed his knife, left me and set
off towards the car again. Despite a few choice screaming body
parts, I didn’t waste any time in hauling myself to my feet,
looking around desperately for some kind of weapon. I reached in my
handbag for my phone and dialled Heller’s number with trembling
fingers, while Beyrer pounded on the windows of the car with his
huge fists. I could see Trent on his phone as well, hopefully
calling the police.

“Matilda? You
want to come home?”

“Heller! It’s
Beyrer! He’s attacking us. He has a knife. I have no weapons –” I
dropped the phone in fright as Beyrer smashed in the windscreen of
the car with a discarded steel rod he’d found in the junk pile
dumped in the lane. Cursing, I dropped to my knees and felt around
on the ground in the dark, my hands eventually closing over it. The
screen had cracked, but it still seemed to be working.

“Matilda!
Matilda?” Heller’s anxious voice spoke out.

“
Shit!
He’s smashing the windows!” I half-sobbed. “Come and help us!
Please!”

I gave him the
best directions I could, not really familiar with this part of the
city and hung up. We were on the other side of the city to the
Warehouse, and it would take Heller forever to arrive. Hopefully he
had some men working over on this side who could come to our
assistance faster than him.

Beyrer moved to
a side window of the car, smashing it to pieces. I watched with
helplessness as he reached in to open the door, dragging a
terrified Trent out, his keys and phone dropping to the road.
Beyrer held him with one hand while he punched him repeatedly in
the face with the other until Trent slumped over, blood pouring
from his nose and mouth.

I searched
frantically on the ground for some kind of weapon, with only the
beaming headlights from Trent’s car to see by. Barefoot, I stumbled
around the dirty littered laneway, treading on broken glass. There
was nothing but illegally dumped household junk lying everywhere.
Despairing and bereft of other options, I picked up an old
discarded VCR player and ran over to Beyrer, smashing it on his
head as hard as I could manage.

It achieved
nothing except making Beyrer drop Trent unceremoniously to the
ground, where he lay in a limp heap, and return his attention to
me. He unsheathed his knife and with a wicked smile playing on his
fleshy lips, held it out teasingly in front of him, jabbing out at
me, laughing when I jumped back, afraid. I’d been slashed before
while working for Heller and wasn’t keen to repeat the experience.
The last thing I needed was more scars on my body. As he thrust the
knife at me again, I noticed the raw, blistered, peeling skin on
his right forearm where I’d previously seen his
Heller’s
tattoo.

“Lost your
tattoo, I see? Heller sorted you out, did he?” I taunted him.

“Bitch! I
didn’t deserve that. It was my whole life working there. Especially
after my whore of a wife left me. You made me lose everything. You
turned Heller against me.” He dived at me, his eyes mad with anger.
If I hadn’t twisted my body away, he would have plunged that knife
into my collarbone, hard enough to strike bone.

All my
instincts screamed at me to charge Beyrer, but I knew from my other
battle with him that it would be a fruitless exercise. Instead I
did something he wouldn’t expect, and I turned and fled from him.
He pounded after me, but I powered on, wincing at every rock and
piece of glass strewn in the laneway that my bare feet encountered.
I wasn’t going to be able to walk tomorrow.

I reached the
main street and threw my head wildly one way and the next, trying
to determine the best way to go. I chose left because I could see
some people walking towards me. I hobbled to them waving my arms,
Beyrer close behind. As I came nearer, I begged them for help.

“That man is
going to kill me. Please help me,” I pleaded with them. They shrank
back in fear, their eyes on Beyrer’s furious face and bulging
muscles. They scurried across the road at a trot, leaving me alone
on the other side. I couldn’t believe it. They weren’t going to
help me.

“Please!” I
shouted. “At least call the police for me. He’s going to kill me
and my friend.” Beyrer grabbed me by my arm and roughly dragged me
back to the laneway. I screamed all the way, clutching desperately
at anything I bumped into.
What was the matter with this
world?
I thought. Trent and I were going to die and nobody
could care less.

Beyrer hauled
me back to the car, kicking Trent’s unconscious body aside as he
did. If I hadn’t been terrified for my own life, I would have wept
for Trent’s. Beyrer leaned inside the car and unlocked the back
door, pushing me down onto the back seat, reaching for his pants
zipper.
No way!
I thought to myself, and wriggled towards
the other door, unlocking it and throwing it open, attempting to
crawl out. Beyrer grabbed me by an ankle and yanked me backwards. I
kicked out until I shook my foot free from his grasp, and took the
opportunity to scramble out of the other door. Breathing heavily, I
stood and faced him, the car between us.

“Don’t try to
run from me, bitch. I’m going to teach you to respect the men in
your life. Heller should have sorted this shit out before with you.
He’ll value what I’m doing here. I mean, look at you. You’re
screwing Heller, but you’re running around with this other man.
You’re just like my wife – nothing more than a whore. A fucking
alley cat on heat! You need to learn how to respect men. You had no
respect for me, ordering me around like you were my boss. But guess
what? I don’t take orders from bitches.” He was hyped up, his
speech scattergun, the words tripping out too fast, his head
darting around. He was obviously on something.

“You don’t
deserve any respect,” I spat out, finding safety in the car-width
distance between us. “You’re nothing but a poor excuse for a man.
What are you using? Cocaine? Ice? Your wife left you for a better
man. I don’t even know who he is, I just know he’s a better man
than you, because
any
man is a better man than you.”

“Bitch, you’ve
got a mouth on you that’s going to get you killed,” he uttered,
teeth gritted tightly. But instead of attempting to attack me
again, he returned to the slumped, prone Trent.

“Think you’re
tough, hey bitch? What about him? He’s not tough, is he? He’s soft.
You going to come around this side and help him? Huh? Bitch? Are
you?” And he picked up Trent’s head by the hair and maliciously
dropped it again onto the bitumen. He picked it up and dropped it
again. I could hear Trent’s head smashing on the ground. “I could
do this all night, bitch. What about you? You going to come over
here or will I keep doing this?” He smashed Trent’s head a third
time. A tide of hatred for him swept over me.

“Put him down.
Leave him alone,” I said in a low, angry tone.

“Don’t you tell
me what to do. A bitch needs to know her place, which is wherever
her man tells her to be. A bitch doesn’t think for herself. That’s
a man’s job. I’m surprised Heller hasn’t sorted out this shit with
you sooner.”

I had to lure
him away from poor Trent before he further hurt him. “Well, come
and get me, if that’s what you want. Or are you too afraid?”

He actually
spat on the ground in contempt. “Afraid of a pussy like you?” And
although it did the trick in redirecting his attention from Trent,
I now had the very pressing problem of a huge, doped-up man heading
towards me with violently carnal intentions.
Hurry up,
Heller!