Hornet's Nest Ch. 07

Calm the fuck down, and see this through.

"I don't suppose you have any idea about the story behind Sörensen, do you?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"It almost depends on which Sörensen we're talking about. There's been a few, obviously, and all nasty pieces of work. My bloodline, we seem to repeatedly have dealings with them, much to our detriment. Whenever we go our separate ways, we cross paths again somewhere down the line."

His driving was aimless. We were cruising around the town without any particular direction.

"Now, Darren, yes? His father, and my father, were involved in dealings, keeping to this century-long pattern. The Sörensen, in typical fashion, displayed his genetic disrespect for everything possible. He intervened with a certain transaction, making sure no shares would reach my father, and ran off with some important information. And a lot of money."

Men behaving badly in the business world. I wasn't even surprised. Perhaps my indifference showed too vividly on my face, because Driscoll tossed me a glance.

"It doesn't end there, lass. He also ran off with my father's wife. My mother, Miss Lewis. My mother. She abandoned us, fancying her chances with this Sörensen cunt."

I swallowed and gave a nod.

"Family is important, lass, and there's a line to be drawn somewhere. My father saw this dealt with, saw two Sörensens removed for their involvement. Unfortunately, his marriage could not be saved. He was bitter, as you might imagine, but as far as he was concerned, that was the end of it. The problem now was Arthur's son, Darren. He rose up and started business, built on his father's dirt. Very disrespectful."

"What's still running?" I asked.

"Yes. My father ignored it for a long time, until he heard it was getting involved with the military. Then he just had to stick his nose in. My father was a good man, lass, he felt as though he had acted impulsively, under the influence of anger. He seemed to think he could make amends. I advised him not to initiate any dealings with a Sörensen again, but my dear father, always very headstrong. He attempted contact with Darren, and was met with violence both times."

There was a short silence, and Driscoll looked at me. "Is any of this surprising you?"

All I could manage was a shrug.

"My father did not react well to disrespect, I hope you can see. We were all quite concerned for him by then. After much pissing around and unlikely behaviour, he struck out and removed another Sörensen, hoping to draw Darren out of his shell. It didn't happen, unfortunately. He drew out the wrong one instead."

He tossed me another glance. I blinked back.

"Darren's uncle, yes? Arthur's brother. Now, my father, he made a terrible mistake."

He paused, turning a corner.

"Which was?" I carefully asked.

"He thought it was a good idea to get into a car, with a driver, who had just lost his last son. Two bitter old men, letting their lives be controlled by irrational anger. That crash took out the pair of them."

Driscoll's tone was unpleasant. I thought I saw a flash of that 'irrational anger' in his own eyes.

"... Do you want to 'remove' Darren?"

"Are you going to back out if I say yes?"

"I don't know." It was a very impulsive, very honest answer.

Driscoll grunted. "He's a queer, isn't he. His family line's dying out with him, with or without my help. This is something I would've left to rest, but when you give me this opportunity, I need to follow it up. On my father's honour. There's some unsettled business."

I offered some slow nods, watching buildings go past beyond the window.

"Now, Miss Lewis, your parents. What are you up for, to see to their wellbeing?"

"Anything."

"Then I think we better discuss how we can help each other."

*

Everything was going fast. I said I'd do something, and now had to live up to my word.

There was no bullshitting, no time wasted. Driscoll handed me over to some of his men. I was improvising, connecting dots with whatever I had. They were almost amused, watching me come up with my plan. Nobody intervened. They did as I said.

I didn't know what would happen if this didn't work.

I was put with a hit group of four men. By the evening we were driving to David's home town - two cars, and I rode in the backseat with the lead man's. I didn't know I could feel so empty, watching the world outside pass by on the motorway.

Maybe there was supposed to be some glimmer to it, something vaguely enjoyable to make it all worthwhile. Some spark of adventure. There had to be a reason why people chose to live these lives. I wasn't feeling it. There was no adventure to what I was doing. I wished I could feel bad about it. I wished I could feel anything at all. It was like all energy and emotion had been drained out of me, and all that was left was a quiet anger at myself.

I didn't want anything to do with this world. I thought I was walking away from it. Here I was, getting myself involved deeper than ever before.

The guys I was with, they seemed quite normal. They kept the cars connected with phones left on loud speakers during the drive, pissing around, overtaking each other on the motorway and bantering amongst themselves. They were just colleagues. Theirs was a job, like any other, unorthodox as it may be.

We stopped off somewere to get a takeaway. The lead man ordered on the phone, and sent me inside to pick it up with cash. They parked down a back road somewhere to eat, lounging around outside the cars, perching on the sides of seats through open doors, sitting on bonnets.

"Don't eat too much," one of them said to the youngest guy there. "You'll be fuckin' throwing up again."

He rolled his eyes and continued to stuff his face.

"Serious, man. We've only got a few hours."

"Shut up."

The lead man chuckled through his mouthful. "No pissin' about tonight, boys. Don't want to see any mistakes. This is the bloke who killed Kowiak."

The mirth faded into silence. I was mostly oblivious to their conversations anyway, poking at the food I had no appetite for.

We had to wait. The summer evening gradually grew into darkness. The group kept themselves entertained, talking about guns and knives like little boys, then demonstrating their combat techniques on each other. Which involved one taking a forward smack straight on the nose.

"Twat!" he barked, clutching his face.

The others roared with laughter, and the lead man sighed. "Fuckin' save it for Sörensen, boys."

I'd normally at least be smirking at witnessing such antics, but that night, nothing.

He checked the time. "Aight, let's get to the station."

I got back into the car, sat in silence. The driver door slammed shut and he looked over his seat at me.

"Which one, girlie? Central? West?"

"The Tilehurst one."

"Aight. Quieter around there, isn't it?"

I didn't reply.

Upon arrival he pulled up against the curb, and looked around at me again. "Right, you're on."

I stepped out onto the asphalt and walked towards the station's carpark. The air was muggy. I pulled my phone out, flicked through my contacts. My hand trembled, but I wasn't even aware that I was nervous.

The time at the top right of my screen said 00:36. No buses by now, right? Fuck, did it even matter?

I spotted a camera overlooking the carpark, and walked away from it, onto some grass. Leant against the trunk of a tree. Finally called the number on my screen.

It rang for a while. When he picked up he sounded very confused.

"Vi?"

"Tyler, I'm really sorry to call you like this. It's just, err..."

"What?"

"It's just, um." I needed to sound more upset. My tone was so bland. This wasn't going to work. "I, err, I've been an idiot."

"Why are you calling me?"

"I need you to pick me up. It's David. We had a huge argument." I needed to cry. I forced my breath to hitch. "I just, err... I've been an idiot. I'm at the station, I got the last train. Please, Tyler, I'm so sorry. I just... there's no buses going."

"Fucking hell."

"I'm sorry, I can walk if it's too much trouble." I was sniffing now, my eyes were watering. "Sorry, don't worry, I can-"

"No. Jesus, girl. I'll come get you."

I was certain no guy, not even one married to a man, wanted to hear a girl upset. It was called the waterworks for a reason, because it worked.

I sniffed again. "I'm so sorry."

"Look, I'll be like thirty minutes, all right?"

"Shall I walk to-"

"No, stay right where you are."

"Thank you."

I heard him mutter a 'Christ' as he took the phone away from his ear and hung up.

I wiped away the tear making its way down the side of my nose, briefly dabbed my eyes, got my breathing under control, then turned and headed back for the car.

The lead man watched me approach through his rolled window. "Aight?"

"He's coming," I replied.

"Good job. Do you know what car?"

"Um, his favourite one, it's a silver sports car. Chevrolet."

"What model? Camaro or Corvette?"

Shit. I'd heard them talk about cars so much and couldn't even remember. "Err, Camaro?"

He chuckled, finding something funny, but I didn't know what it was. "Aight."

"He might not bring that one, it might be another, a black Jaguar."

"I think we'll be able to spot him. You're done, girl. You're free to go. Just be on call incase in boss needs anything else, aight?"

"Okay."

I walked away from the car, hands in my jacket pockets, but didn't leave the scene just yet. My sick, morbid curiosity was too interested in seeing what happened. Seeing what I'd done.

---

David

Tyler was ringing me gone midnight.

"David, what the fuck?"

And he was using my name.

"What?" I asked, a little dazed.

"The fuck is going on there? You had some massive argument with Vi?"

"Mate, what?"

"I just had her fucking ringing me, crying, saying she's at the station. What the fuck is your problem, kid?"

My mind was screaming, I needed a moment to get my thoughts straight. "What... No, no, Tyler, no, we didn't have an argument. Well... like, not exactly."

"Kid."

"She fucking walked out on me to go see her parents. She was in a mood with me, I don't know why, she-"

"Well she's at the station now, and upset."

"For fuck sake." I was automatically moving around my room, looking for clothes. "How did she get your number?"

"I gave it to her, ages ago, when she was in the labs one time."

"Why the fuck didn't she call me? I can pick her up. What the fuck, Tyler?"

"Kid, I don't fucking know!" There were background noises from his end too, the slam of the cupboard where they kept their shoes. "I'm going to get her, anyways."

"Get me on the way, I'll be at the end of the rise."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"What?"

There was the slam of his front door. "I'm just saying. If she's in a mood with you, she can stop over here and you can see her tomorrow."

"She's not in a mood with me, she was in a mood with her parents, she just got moody with me because I tried to stop her going."

"Okay, whatever."

"Pick me up, Tyler."

"Yeah, I'll be there. Fuck my life."

He hung up and I raked my fingers through my hair. She wouldn't reply to my texts, but went calling Tyler? What had I done wrong? There was a sick knot in my stomach. I'd spent two days being pissed off, and equally helpless over all this shit.

I was tempted to take Mum's car and go on my own - if I left right then I'd arrive before Tyler - but Tyler was involved now, so might as well wait for him.

Light from Wesley's room showed through cracks in the doorframe. He was still up this late? I went downstairs as quietly as possible, and shut the front door as softly as possible.

I walked and waited at the end of the designated road. The sound of Tyler's car sounded through the darkness not more than a minute later, roaring above the speed limit. Good timing. The headlights were needlessly bright and I squinted against it, moving around to the passenger door.

I sat down while Tyler gave me a look to match his tone on the phone - that I was a dickhead, who'd been a cunt to my girlfriend. For fuck sake, I wasn't in the wrong over this. I wasn't.

"Is this your first argument?" he asked, stepping on the accelerator again.

"No. Not really."

"So what's so bad about her seeing her parents? Are they pricks to her or something?"

"No, I don't think so. It's just..." I watched the road ahead, bathed in the headlights. I wasn't sure what to say, if I should say anything. I couldn't do what Violet did, I couldn't keep things locked up in my head. It ate away at me. "Her parents are involved in some shit."

"Like what?"

I paused again. There were red lights ahead, the back of a car pulled up on the curb. "Like- Hey, woah!" The car turned out in front of us at a sharp ninety degree angle.

Tyler slammed on the brakes. There was still a collision. My body jerked and slammed against the seatbelt. I was surprised by how loud the crunch of metal was.

... What the fuck?

We sat there in silence against the chugging engine of the car. I swallowed and looked around at Tyler. His expression was equally shocked, staring ahead, but slowly turning into a snarl.

"Are you fuckingkiddingme?"

The car in front reversed away, showing the dent in its side. Tyler snapped his door open, getting out like he was ready to punch the driver into the floor.

I got out as well, leaning an elbow on the roof of the car. There was the slam of a shut door and a man appeared in front. Tyler stood his ground, holding his arms out in challenge.

"What the fuck? You didn't see me, huh? What you playing at, turning out like that?"

The man didn't look bothered. "Mister Sörensen."

Tyler paused, his glare faded, his arms dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Sörensen."

There was a prickle in the air. Tyler's head gave the slightest tilt. "Who?"

"Don't bullshit me. I know your face."

I could feel my brow furrowing, some sort of glare forming. My instincts were reading a lot from Tyler's body language, even if my conscious thoughts were behind.

The two stared at each other for a long second. Tyler was entering a fight or flight mode. He decided on the latter, suddenly jerking back for the car.

"Kid-"

The man lunged in nothing short of a flash, stopping the car door from shutting. He grabbed Tyler by the collar, ripped him out of the seat, and threw him onto the floor.

A fist smacked into my face - a second man had crept up around the car. I staggered back with a rush of adrenaline, managed to dodge the second swing, and retaliated with an uppercut of my own.

A guttural noise erupted from Tyler's throat, pumping me with a second burst of adrenaline.

I had no fucking idea what was happening.

Some quiet, sane part of my brain was wondering why these men were so pissed off about a small crash, while my body desperately tried to fend off my attacker.

He hailed me with punches. Some hit, some didn't. I swung back in an alien state, being forced to fight without having it triggered by my anger first. I landed something heavy that got a reaction, then there was a second guy.

He wrestled with me, slammed me against the side of the car. My shoes scraped against the asphalt, trying to get a grip, trying to fight back. I threw all the weight in my body, twisting and turning, got his fists out of my clothing, and staggered away.

Putting that distance between myself and those two men, it struck me. I could run. I could put everything Violet had taught me to use, and escape. There was no way they could catch me.

But that meant backing down from a fight. And more importantly, that meant leaving Tyler.

I wasn't doing either of those things.

So I lunged straight back into the fray. It was a chaotic, scrambling mess. There were voices and shouts from the other side of the car, and a sharp sound. Someone's head cracked the window of the driver's door. It wasn't Tyler's. Was he winning?

Sometimes, all it takes is one punch. A fist struck me perfectly in the temple. The kind of hit that wasn't fucking around. The hit that's only purpose was to incapacitate. Like how Tyler hit me in the kitchen that time.

I blacked out for a split second. When I came back my body was tumbling, grabbing against the dented bonnet to steady myself. The guy laughed.

I'll always remember that laugh. How he waited, giving me a moment, wanting me to keep fighting back. "Did that fuckin' hurt ya, mate?"

If he wanted to make me angry, it worked. His eyes were alive with violence. I wanted to smack every expression off his face, but injuries were taking effect. I was dizzy, almost sluggish. Every heavy hit I managed didn't matter because I didn't know where to land them. There's having the strength of a bear, and actually knowing what to do with it.

The reality is that I didn't know how to fight. Nobody had taught me, because I was never supposed to be violent.

These guys knew, and they demonstrated it with every aimed punch at my head, the blow to my sternum that felt like my heart stopped, knocking the breath out of me while I choked and gasped. They worked in perfect union to take me down. I was pinned against the car's bonnet, hit again and again, but I wouldn't stop struggling.

There was a sound that stopped me. The sound of a silenced pistol.

Tyler was on the floor. Was he shot?

Shit.

He pushed up on an arm, slowly, like he was in a lot of pain. He glared up at the man aiming the firearm at him. I was looking for the blood on his clothing.

"Stop pissin' around," the man spat. "Or second one don't miss."

The body pinning me lifted, but fists grabbed in my clothing and a hand closed around the back of my neck, digging its fingers in. I wasn't done, and they knew it.

The man slammed the butt of the gun into Tyler's head, knocking him clean to the floor. He kicked him in the stomach. And again, harder, knocking him onto his back with a wheeze and cough of pain. He kept kicking.

He was down. Stop.Stop.

I snapped free from my restraints, slamming into the armed man. He staggered, nearly fell, and shoved me back with a roar of anger.

"Fuckin' control him!"

The hands were on my arms again, tugging me around while I resisted. The muzzle of the gun slammed into my chest. I froze. My body wanted to keep struggling, to fight, but a screaming survival instinct held me still.

The man sneered at me, eyes darting as though making a conscious effort to remember the features of my face. He shoved the silenced muzzle into me again, then stepped back, wiping some blood away from his nose with the back of his hand.

"Fuckin' aggressive one, isn't he?"

"God," I heard Tyler wheeze. "Leave the kid out of this."

"Sorry. Can't."

"Fuckyou!"

The butt of the gun struck me in the head. It was a sharp pain, but not much else. The second hit was dizzying, and I felt my mind starting to separate from my body. The third hit must've got me.

---

Violet

Blood thundered in my ears.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I was stupid beyond comprehension.

It took all my strength to stay where I was, not rush out into the scene. What could I fucking do? I was surprised by the fight they put up, but they didn't stand a chance.

Shit.Shit.David wasnotpart of this deal. For fuck sake, Tyler, why did you bring him? You fucking prick.

I should've said more on the phone. Made it more specific. I should've... not fucking done this.

The youngest man got into Tyler's car to take it with them. The lead man gave a glance around, then got behind his own wheel. I had no doubt people from the nearby houses had heard things, maybe watched out their windows. Police would be called. I sank further into the shadows.

I felt like I was going to be sick. Something cold gripped around my heart.