Trust Me (Trust Me, Find Me 1)
Sion nodded.
“I’ve gotta lay low for a bit, but as soon as I can, I will.”
Sion kissed her cheek.
“Look after him, Annie.”
Jac put his arm around Annie as Sion made to leave.
“And none of that stubborn bollocks, alright?”
His laugh cut through the melancholic air.
“‘Cos I won’t be here to sort it, so don’t go screwin’ it up. Either of you.”
Annie’s face reddened. Jac coughed and rubbed his face.
“Take care, bro. Send word.”
Sion gave them a wink.
“I’ll see you again. I promise.”
CHAPTER 24
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Claire had been up all night. At four a.m., she’d made up her mind categorically that she wasn’t going. She didn’t know the guy. He’d consistently lied about himself. Plus, there was the teeny-weeny, microscopically-minuscule fact that he was a professional assassin. Even if he was working for the good guys.
No, Sion Edwards was not exactly ideal boyfriend material.
Yet, there was something between them that she couldn’t deny. It wasn’t just she could talk to him about stuff and he made her laugh. It was more than that. And more than an attraction. It was something visceral between them.
She’d felt it in their kiss. He’d held back at first, she could tell, and he’d let her kiss him. But then his guard dropped, and when she sensed his passion for her it had thrilled her to her core. No-one had ever made her feel like that before.
This enigma of a man was too confusing, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make up her mind.
So, in the middle of the night she’d dumped her things into her backpack anyway. She didn’t have a lot. But it was heavy enough; lying propped up against the wall, waiting. Waiting for her to finally settle on what to do.
She’d decide when she saw him, she told herself, as she parked her old two-door Suzuki in The Cross Keys car park.
Locking the car, she walked across the tarmac to the pub’s kitchen. Glenda, the cleaner, had finished mopping the floor in the bar and was carrying the bucket to empty down the drain outside.
“Is Kevin about?”
“Upstairs, chuck. If you see him, tell him I’m off now, will ya?”
“Yeah, no worries. See you soon.”
“Kevin?”
Claire called out his name again, then started up the stairs to the accommodation wing above the pub.
“Kevin?”
The door into the flat was ajar.
Slowly, she pushed it a little wider, opening into the kitchen area.
“Hiya? Kevin? You there? It’s Claire. I’ve come for my wages.”
???
Sion spotted Claire at the back door of the pub as he drove into the car park. He was certain that she hadn’t caught sight of him before she quickly disappeared inside. And he didn’t want to look like he was stalking her, so he stayed in the car.
Turning on the radio, his stomach churned again. He’d been on tenterhooks all night wondering what she was going to do.
He couldn’t call it.
Her eyes had been clouded with doubt. And he didn’t blame her for that. He’d be the same too, in her situation.
But then, she’d put her soft lips shyly on his. And then more passionately. Wow! He’d been right about her. Claire had hidden depths he was desperate to explore. He’d have to accept it if she didn’t want to go with him. But it would be a damn shame, all the same.
Claire’s car was next to his. A battered old Suzuki one litre job. His heart sank. He couldn’t see any travel bags on the seat. They could be in the boot or back at her flat? Or, the sinking feeling returned; she was staying.
Something over by the pub suddenly grabbed his attention.
A middle-aged woman had come running out of the kitchen door and was now scanning the car park frantically, looking like she needed help.
Without hesitation, Sion rushed out of the car.
Something was up.
Jogging over, he called over to the woman. She was in a state.
“What’s up?”
“Help! He’s hurting her. I heard her scream.”
“Who?”
“Claire.”
Sion’s blood ran cold.
“She went to see Kevin. And I was puttin’ my mop bucket back and there was this loud thump on the ceiling. And then I heard her scream.”
“You got a phone?”
The cleaner nodded.
“Call the police.”
Squashing his instinct to race up there immediately, instead, he bolted back to the car. Grabbing his bag from the boot, he then raced swiftly across the car park, into the pub, to the door of the upstairs flat.
Why did Kevin want to harm Claire?
At the base of the stairs, he unzipped his bag and loaded his handgun. Checking the safety catch, he slipped it into the back of his jeans.
Grabbing a handful of cable ties, he shoved them into his front pocket.
Bag in one hand, gun in the other, there was no time to waste.
“Arghh! Please! Let go of me.”
The voice was unmistakably hers. And she wasn’t far away.
Another cry.
Fury rose up within him. If he touched her again, God help him!
He had to keep it together. He needed to stay calm. Focussed. For her sake.
Creeping soundlessly up the stairs, he stole forward and peeped in through the open door into the kitchen area. Kevin and Claire were both directly in front of Sion facing at ninety degrees away from him and about twelve steps towards the middle of the kitchen area.
Kevin had Claire pulled down onto her knees. He’d grabbed her from behind and was now holding her tight with her head yanked back by her ponytail, exposing the full length of her neck.
The bastard!
She was struggling to get free, trying to resist him but he could tell that she was wary too of the sharp, steely blade held firmly at her throat.
Fierce, primal anger welled up again, and he battled hard to quell it. It pained him beyond words to see her like this. But losing his temper would do more harm.
He stood out of their sight by the open door. He needed to bide his time.
“Where is he?”
Kevin sounded revved up. His movements were agitated too.
“Who?”
“Don’t gimme that, you dumb bitch.”
Kevin pressed again.
“Where is he? You got your phone? Call him. Get him to come here. Now.”
Yanking her hair harder.
“Oww!”
Sion watched silently. So that was it. He was one of them. He’d seen the Scouser’s wanted post. He was trying to get hold of the reward money.
A wave of nausea washed over him as he saw the back of Claire’s head pulled back. He’d told her last night he’d keep her safe. And here she was, with a knife to her neck because of him.
Kevin had definitely been sniffing something. Coke or Meth? If he sprang the gun on him, he was wound up so tight, he could easily slash Claire’s throat. And that could be fatal. His only chance was surprise.
He crept up further to the door jamb.
“Why d’ya want Sion?” he heard Claire say through gritted teeth.
“Friends of mine wanna word with him.”
Taking a deep breath, he stole forward into the middle of the room, stepping soundlessly behind Kevin’s back.
Claire hadn’t seen him, either.
The closer he was, the easier it would be to spring himself on him and get the knife.
“Sion’s a computer geek. He works in an office.”
“Don’t gimme that, sugar-tits. There’s a finder’s fee out on him for twenty big ones.”
“You’ve got the wrong man.”
“He’s a grass. And I’m the lucky son of a bitch who gets to cash him in. Now where’s your phone?”
He ki
cked at her legs, spurring her to check her pockets, get out her phone.
“I’d hate to spoil that pretty face of yours. So for the last time, where the fuck is it?”
“It’s in the car,” Claire screamed at him.
He had to stop him, but he couldn’t get any closer. If he jumped him, she’d be scarred for life.
He had no choice.
“You looking for me?”
The pig-eyed manager spinned around, Claire with him.
Sion was five steps away, towering over them.
The gun was in the back of his trousers. Could he grab it? Shoot him at close range?
“Let her go and then we’ll speak.”
He was trying to be as calm as he could be, taking in the man’s amphetamine-wired state, and the sharp blade that was still hovering by the side of Claire’s face.
“Why do you want me, Kevin?”
“Friends of mine wanna speak with you.”
“So, you’d like me to wait here for them, with you. Is that it?”
He stepped closer and Kevin grabbed onto Claire hard.
Sion froze.
“Let her go.”
Kevin ignored him, clinging onto her hair.
“Are they on their way? These mates of yours?”
Beads of sweat began forming on Kevin’s brow and Sion noticed his hand by Claire’s nose beginning to twitch. He was cracking.