No Strings Attached

Chapter Thirty

“For what?”

“For loving my brother the way that you do,” she brushed Shannon’s hair away from her eyes before their gazes locked, “I don’t think we’d be getting him back at all if it wasn’t for you.”

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“Where have you even been staying?” Shannon asked thoughtfully from the back of the 4 x 4, her hand absently tickling Ava’s tummy in the car seat next to her. In all of the small talk that they’d made over the past few days, she’d not even thought to ask.

“It’s not far,” Jayden answered, his eyes not straying from the road ahead as he navigated his way out of the hospital car park, “About ten minutes.”

When they pulled up, the apartment looked like something out of a magazine – but the building itself was like some kind of maximum security place, with codes to get into the car park, and wrought iron gates. They were about four storeys up in the building.

Inside was all luxurious gold wallpapers, and carpets that your bare toes sank into – all the mod cons, so to speak.

“Where are we Jay?” Shannon’s eyes were looking around her in wonder, despite the exhaustion that had set in once they’d left the hospital, she really did need a good night’s sleep! That chair had done nothing for her posture.

“It’s one of Franchetti’s places,” he said quietly, almost sheepishly as Tori’s eyes flared at him wildly.

“We’re in a mob residence now then?” she muttered, sighing with frustration as she settled Ava into the travel cot.

“We have to be somewhere, Tor, don’t start,” he collapsed into the chenille sofa, kicking off his boots before throwing his legs over the arm of the chair.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, suddenly kind of sheepish herself. She knew he’d only have been doing what he thought best, “I guess I’m just cranky you never said anything.”

Leaning over him, carefully shifting Ava out of her way, she dropped a long, deep kiss on his lips, and murmured what could have been a token of gratitude, but Shannon was a little too far gone to care.

“I’m off to bed guys,” she said softly, not surprised that they never heard her, and headed in the direction they’d shown her earlier for a nice long soak in the bath.

Her hair was hanging in dank curls – she hadn’t washed it since the accident – Tori was definitely bang on the money that Nate wouldn’t want to see her like this.

Staring into the full length mirror that was steadily steaming up with condensation, she noticed the dark circles under her eyes – and the pale, gaunt look of her features.

Nothing a little rest wouldn’t cure, she thought critically, although he probably would hit the roof that she’d not eaten properly – he already moaned at her for eating like a baby bird.

She moaned at the blissful feeling of the hot water smoothing around her aching muscles when she lowered herself into the bath – she hadn’t realised just how uncomfortable she must have been for the past few nights. It wasn’t surprising though, she’d been so attuned to every sound that she’d barely slept at all really.

Rationally, she’d known that there would be no change – the comatose state was because of the drugs that they were giving him – not something he could naturally emerge from, and yet somehow, she’d so desperately wished for it that she often had to check him to make sure that he hadn’t.

She hoped – with everything she had inside her – that everything would go as planned when they brought him around. She just wanted to fall at his feet and tell him how much she loved him – how she could never live without him.

She finished up in the bathroom not long later, after performing her entire beautification rituals it was a little after eleven.

Jay and Tori were cuddled up on the couch – her head on his shoulder as they watched CSI reruns.

“Do you want food, Shan, or is it a little late for you?” Tori leaned her head back, “I can rustle you up a sandwich or something? His stomach’s rumbling here, so I’ll be making him one anyway?”

Shannon wasn’t even sure he’d heard them; his eyes absolutely enthralled with Gil Grisham and his band of crime beating scientists.

“Sure,” Shannon shrugged, opening the fridge door, “Is there anything here?”

“Cupboards were stocked when we moved in,” Tori winked cheekily, jumping up from her seat, “So we’ve just worked our way through it out of pure gratitude. What do you fancy?”

They made a small buffet of sandwiches and crisps out of the leftover food, and settled down to watch the rest of the programme, but within ten minutes, Shannon’s eyes were slowly dropping, and she set off to bed.

Her room was cherry red and cream – very luscious and inviting, she noted wryly, but as soon as her head hit the soft pillow, she was out for the count.

She didn’t understand what it was that had woken her – just hours later – except that she’d been having nightmares that she’d kept at bay for months.

Nightmares of a dark, masculine figure, standing at the foot of her narrow bed – his breaths hoarse and echoing as they broke into the dead silence that cloaks us while we sleep. 

Nightmares of a man with evil intentions, climbing between the covers next to her – his fingers leeching on to her skin, trailing slime and grease, as he breathed sinister words into her ears.

She’d not had them for months – those dreams of her father – but once she opened her eyes, once her sleepy gaze collided with his, she realised why.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched his approach from the bedroom door, the loose, predatory gait seemed menacing and threatening. He knew, as well as she did, that he could afford to be slow – there is never a more vulnerable victim than that one that is roused from sleep – and he was drawing out the fear – drawing out those helpless, snivelling breaths that she was taking quickly.

“Still a vegetable is he, my little slut?” he was sneering at her, “I’ll soon have you forgetting all about that, don’t you worry.”

Of course, she’d managed to pick up a few things along her way with Nate and Jayden – she’d learnt that one must always know their enemy - and always anticipate their next move.

Which is why she stored the pistol that Jayden had given her under her pillow, just as a precaution, and why, when he saw her clenching the soft fabrics in her fingertips, she laboured her breathing so that he wouldn’t be see it coming when she drew it from underneath the fabrics.

Her eyes turned stone cold when she drew it up in front of her with both hands. While his own dark, menacing eyes had turned somewhat flummoxed at what must have been a very familiar sight to some greedy little shit bag wannabe gangster – the barrel of a gun.

“Wait,” she murmured quietly to herself, cocking her head to the side just like Nate had, “We’re not allowed to kill you yet...”

Victory flared in his eyes as he thought she was backing down – as he figured she probably didn’t have the guts anyway.

With two quick shots to his legs, she took out his kneecaps instead, and he collapsed with a roaring scream of fury.