The NSC Boxset: Heart of Stone (229 page)

Chapter One

Kade

Current Day

THE ROOM WAS spinning again and I grabbed hold of the edge of the bar to try and bring it back upright. “Go home, mate, you’ve had your fill tonight. Time for bed.” The barman, Bod or Brock or something similarly stupid told me and I curled my lip at him.

“Do I look fucking twelve?”

He smirked at me, the fucking arsehole and shrugged as he still refused me another drink. What the fuck was his problem? “You’re getting no more tonight. Go home.”

“What? . . . Oh, fuck it!”

I spun round on the stool and frowned. Where the hell was I anyway? This wasn’t Pulse or even The Loft. It was somewhere new, well new to me anyway, and I perused the opulence of the place, respectfully admiring the high quality fixtures and luxurious décor, their rich but subtle tones relaxing you but at the same time feeding a desire to party. The abundant deep red and classic cream features were welcoming and pleasant yet at the same time stimulating and thrilling and I pursed my lips reverently as I noticed the faint stylish use of chrome arranged here and there, making the building appear more open and clean.

I slid off my stool, my eyes darting around as I took in more of my surroundings whilst I tampered with my memories, trying to assess exactly where I was. I hadn’t been here before, I knew I hadn’t. I would have remembered such a place, especially the guys scattered about with pieces hidden in their waistbands. Did they really think they were inconspicuous or did they even care, come to that? They definitely looked casual but at the same time aggressively prominent and the conflicting vibes they gave off made me queasy.

Gazing around the room, looking for the little boy’s room, I spotted at least six tooled up men, each directing their gazes out towards the room of swaying patrons, each alert and outwardly hostile and I eyed one in particular as his fierce stare fixed on a couple of blokes arguing across the room.

The music was blaring and my head was starting to thump with the vibrations of it, my gut giving me bother over the last whisky as it tried to acidly chuck it back up my throat.

Shit!

I swept my eyes around the walls, desperately looking for a door to escape through before I humiliated myself and tossed up all over the dance floor like a pubescent teen.

Big guy narrowed his eyes on the two clowns who had been arguing as they now rolled around on the floor. He moved swiftly across the room, his empty post revealing a door. Perfect! Even if it was the fucking broom closet, I could spew up in privacy.

I dived through it, one hand covering my mouth as my eyes watered with the fumes of the rising alcohol and I groaned loudly when I appeared to be in another room with the same lavish furniture. Although this replica area was eerily unoccupied it still made my heart sink when I knew I couldn’t cough up in here.

“Fuck!” I hissed as I frantically scanned the room looking for the little plaque that displayed a male figure. “Fuck! Do they not believe in bogs?”

I scrambled through another door and fought back the urge to scream when I emerged into a long corridor. Where the hell were the toilets?

I could hear voices down the hallway and I made my way towards them to ask directions or at least ask if they could provide a bucket but my footing stalled as the voices became louder and fiercer, their tones becoming aggressive and slightly sinister as one specific male voice laughed with cold cruelty causing the hairs on the back of my neck to vibrate.

“You really thought that you could fuck my daughter and I wouldn’t find out?”

“I . . .” The terrified stutter trickled ice through my veins with its unpolluted fear. Whoever was in trouble was
in
trouble
and I stilled outside the slightly ajar door, hoping to—fuck, I don’t know what I was hoping for but I suddenly couldn’t move when I heard a loud crack before the guy cried out in pain.

“You disrespect me Alex, and that in itself screams of your insult.”

The poor guy whimpered with a faint high pitched gurgle and my eyes widened when he let out a loud grunt after a heavy thud rocked the floor under my feet.

“Please . . . Gr . . . Mr Baxter, please, it was Elizabeth, she . . .”

I could feel the temperature instantly drop around me, the waves of fury carried in the tiny dust particles hovering around me, seeping into my pores with the potency of the thunderous silence and triggering a hot shiver. Even I wanted to slap the fucking goon. Who the hell begged for their lives by casting the blame on the daughter of the man threatening to beat you to a pulp? What a twat and I shook my head as I released a small chuckle.

The chuckle morphed into a small whimper and erupted from my mouth with some vomit as it trickled down my body, sliding fluidly over my clean blue shirt and down the crease of my trousers, pooling on the toe of my stupid shiny shoes when the gunshot shook the air around me and I lurched forward with the shock.

Holy fuck! Had they shot him just cos’ he’d fucked someone’s daughter?

“Fucking cunt. Get rid of him, he makes me wanna slice his throat and I don’t need the fucking mess to be honest.” The blasé way it was said flicked a sense of dread through my system as my whole body stiffened in terror.

Shit they were coming out!

I dived through another door opposite and as quietly as I could, pulled it closed at the same time as I pushed a hand against it to soften the sneck. At last, a broom closet! “Always too fucking late, Kade.” I whispered to myself as I rested my ear on the door and squinted as I listened to what was happening.

“Yeah, I saw it; did you see that brunette’s tits?” One guy laughed as the other guy then went into a discussion about some movie and how he thought the violent scenes were too mechanical. “Well the twat won’t be making any more
stiff
movies . . . get it?”

What the Fuck? Just . . . what the fuck? Oh my god, was the guy they just shot Alex Ingot from the Hollywood blockbuster, Stiff?

I started to panic and wonder if I would get out of here alive as I glanced around the tiny cupboard. There was a toolbox at my feet and I rummaged through it, looking for anything I could use as a weapon in my bid to get out of here alive—unlike the other poor guy and spotting a screwdriver, I shoved it into the waistband of my trousers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

I opened the door quietly and marginally before risking a peek out. It seemed clear but my trembling knees made me well aware it might actually not be.

The door squealed and I cringed, bracing myself for the attack but nothing happened so I risked venturing a bit further. I shot looks both ways before rushing down the corridor and burst through a door marked with an exit sign that brought me out into a side alley.

“Shit!”
I gasped, panting rapidly as the cool night air assaulted my terrorised lungs, the sudden drop in temperature causing a wheeze in my chest as my body tried to battle against my anxiety, however I couldn’t risk giving it a rest and I rushed awkwardly towards the main street, the smooth soles of my pathetic shoes gliding along the frosty ground perilously in my rush to flee.

I slid on some ice in my desperation, making me stumble on my knees, my hands breaking the contact for me and snapping my wrist painfully as the screwdriver dug painfully into the flesh of my thigh. Coins, condoms and my phone skittered across the gravel and I bit down on my lip to stop the roar of both agony and frustration as it all disappeared under one of the industrial bins. “Bollocks!”

Could this night get any fucking worse?

Of course it could!

I tensed when the door behind me opened and a huge hefty guy emerged, his icy eyes as cold as the night as they zeroed in on me and an evil smirk curled his lips.

Fuck! FUCK!

I scrambled up and lunged for the front of the club as the thug behind me fired a bastard shot at me. “HOLY FUCK!” I cried out as another bullet zipped right past my ear, searing an agonising tear through the top part of it.

“Shit!” I grabbed at it, the pain causing my knees to buckle but I made my legs drag me further.

It’s funny how your body suddenly becomes almost superhuman when death laughs in your face and taunts you. I could almost hear my brain ordering my muscles to grow some balls and get me the hell out of there but whatever, because it worked as my legs powered extra harder and my stomach steeled and hardened, driving a desire to live through me.

I cried out with fortitude as I pushed myself on, hauling up what bit of extra energy I could muster and used it to allow me to live a little bit longer. I propelled my body forward with resolve making it to the roadside in front of the club as I heard a small curse behind me. I turned to see him slip on some ice and slam into a lamppost, his knee cracking loudly on impact and hurtling his gun across the other side of the alleyway. I toyed with the idea of leaping after it for all of point two seconds before I turned back round and scuttled into the nearest taxi.

“MOVE!” I barked which triggered a jolt of shock from the driver who just stared wide eyed at me through the rear-view mirror. “Mate, if you wanna live then you need to get our arses outta’ here like NOW!”

He nodded frantically as he rammed into gear and took off like a whippet, the wheels screeching hotly on the freezing road as I looked up at the night sky through the side window, the stars twinkling brightly in the clear atmosphere. “Thank you” I said openly with no embarrassment at showing my gratitude to an invisible being. “Maybe you do like me after all.”

Chapter Two

Grace

MY EYES FLICKED casually over the scene as I tapped my nails against the crystal champagne flute in my hand as dreariness well and truly set in.

The pomp and grandeur of these conceited people even made my boredom, bored. A flamboyant false ladylike chuckle here and an arrogant flashy laugh from some egotistical twat there and I was eager for suicide by whichever means painful enough.

I scowled at the man in the corner of the room who smirked before turning back to his companion for the night. Twat! He knew I hated the up your arse niceties and fake pleasantries that were expected at such puffed-up parties.

The music playing was some foreign classical shit as a waitress in a tight fitted skirt and blouse tilted her silver tray towards me. I declined with a small shake of my head but smiled when I felt the approach of someone behind me.

“Now that exquisite beauty has arrived, we can finally make this sombre excuse of a gathering into a party” a molten voice whispered in my ear and I grinned widely as I turned. “Mademoiselle Beaumont, it is such a privilege, thank you for illuminating my heart with such a beguiling smile.”

I quirked an eyebrow at his charm and leaned in to kiss his warm leathery cheek, the scent of spice and port assaulting my nostrils and producing a small pang of melancholy to tighten my heart as I moved across and replicated a kiss on the opposite cheek, “Monsieur Moreau, you flatter me, sir.”

He smiled merrily, the roguish twinkle in his eye initiating a small smirk to lift my lips, “Ah, non, my dear Grace, it is
you
whom flatters an old man with such a bewitching kiss.”

I laughed loudly this time, shaking my head in humour but he winked playfully and held out his elbow for me to take. “Come my dear, and let me introduce you to some fine specimens.”

“Specimens of what exactly, Alain?” I asked sceptically as I hooked my arm through his and allowed him to lead me into the terrifying mass of stiffs.

He pursed his lips as he perused the room, his eyes narrow yet perceptive as he inclined towards me and deliberated which man deserved our attention, “Just . . . samplings, varieties of the male variety that may flutter your delicate feathers a little.”

I shook my head and sighed, “Now, now, you know me better than that, sir. I am not one of your projects, Alain and I am definitely no little bird.”

He smiled playfully and I braced myself for his reply. “Non, no, you are exceptionally far from a little flight of fancy, Grace. Yet, maybe if you would allow a gentleman to occasionally ruffle your feathers you may discover that you are more of a vibrant, passionate and utterly stunning peacock. Your enchantment captivates each and every man in this room, Mademoiselle Beaumont, yet you are amusingly unaware of this.”

I gave him a faint knock of my elbow making him laugh loudly. All heads turned to us and suddenly my tight red cocktail dress seemed more body-hugging and brash as I yearned for my customary jeans and boots.

“Potential risk, upper six o’clock.”

I ran my tongue over my teeth and turned in a circle, surveying the area around me, “Come now Monsieur Moreau, can a lady not choose a potential companion for herself?”

My eyes slowly travelled over the large room as I lowered my chin and took a sip of my champagne. I caught the flicker of moving blackness and the glint of silver when I upturned my glass and sipped the liquid as I explored the banister on the upper level through the distorting crystal.

Fuck!

I spun round towards Alain and bumped into him purposely, spilling the contents of my glass down the front of his expensive suit as I stealthily shielded him. My eyes flicked to Liam before I started to wipe Alain down with a napkin. “Oh, I’m so sorry Alain, forgive a clumsy girl.” I flushed before I dipped my chin towards my pendant. “You look a
positively
awful
sight.
”

He smiled warmly and waved me off as Liam approached hurriedly, “Mr Moreau let me help you get that cleaned up.”

Alain started to speak but Liam took no refusal as he swept him across the room and through another door.

I casually placed my champagne glass on a nearby table as I feigned a yawn and made my way to the stairwell.

Checking everything was in place as the door closed behind me; I slipped off my heels and cleared the steps two at a time, praising Mary for her foresight to alter my dress and give it a thigh high split up the side.

I pulled my Beretta from inside my bodice, the familiar feel of the pistol appeasing the urgent rush of blood through my narrowed veins as soon as my fingers curled around the piece. I shivered with the adrenaline spike as my skin touched the cold ribbed metal and I stilled beside the door, the gun at my side and my hand on the door handle.