Hornet's Nest Ch. 09

"No. Don't you fucking dare." My hand shot up to grab her wrist. "Don't leave me again."

"I'm a terrible person."

"Yeah, and I still love you."

She was doing her thing, trying to deflect. It wasn't working. She gave a feeble tug with her wrist and I didn't let go. I watched her crumble. She finally looked into my eyes, then fell into me, hiding her face before I got a chance to see her weakness. "I love you," she strained. "I love you so much. I'm so sorry."

She let out a loud sniff. I wrapped my arms around her, falling back against the pillows and pulling her with me. I'd never seen her cry before, and to be fair, I wasn't seeing it, just hearing it. My own sinuses tingled and I joined her, resting my head against hers. We didn't really sob. Both of us were trying too hard to control it. The room just filled with sniffs, and pained breathing. A couple of whimpers.

She curled up against me, tucking her head between my shoulder and neck. I wiped my eyes with my free hand. It was the first time I had her in my arms after she'd walked out on me, after all the shit she'd put me through. Frustration and relief were a strange combination to feel.

We did talk more, eventually. But not that much. I mostly said things to break the silence, and she replied with short sentences.

"I don't even know if my parents are alive," she said. Her next few breaths were sharper, but she didn't break into a second bout of tears. "I don't know where they are. I don't know if there was any point in anything."

I didn't reply. She was the one I wanted to talk to the most, and yet there felt too much risk of saying the wrong thing. I opted for silence, and she didn't speak again either.

We both could've slept if left there long enough. The door opening cut through whatever drowsiness was forming.

"David," Darren said. "Your parents are here."

I pushed up on an elbow. "Okay."

"Violet, you need to come with me."

She sat up as well, blinking a few times, like doing so could remove any evidence of crying, or bring her back to a sharper state. Or both. She gave Darren a curious glance, but he'd used his authoritative tone that made people do as he said before they had time to question it.

"We'll come again tomorrow," he continued.

I gave Violet a kiss before she walked out. It was brief. She was distracted. I didn't get to talk to Darren. He held the door open, watched her pass in front of him, then gave me a quick look before disappearing.

Their presence was replaced in a matter of seconds.

Dad looked like he'd been dragged through hell and back. His eyes were exhausted, while his posture was tense. He was dressed in black trousers and a white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. Somehow that was enough, just for the briefest moment, for him to look like Driscoll. My mind was an idiot. The involuntary prickle of adrenaline followed whether I wanted it or not.

I couldn't even explain what made my blood pressure go up. Too many subtle hints that hit at once. Darren had just removed Violet from my company. To make room for Dad.

The alarm bells only gave me the sudden realisation that I didn't want to talk to my dad right then. I wasn't ready.

Mum perched on the side of the bed, searching my face for something, and I didn't know what. She only looked tired, and fed up, and nothing else. Her hand reached out to cup my cheek. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

Her response was to seize me in a hug. I mean, I got it, I could've died. But I was in a weird state, and couldn't really get on board with her thoughts. Whatever had happened to me didn't matter because I was right there and I was fine.

This wasn't about me.

"There's a lot of things you haven't told me about," I said.

"Yes." She pulled back and brushed her hand through my hair.

My eyes moved to Dad as he loomed at the end of the bed. "You shot someone."

His thumbs went to his pockets and his head turned away. It wasn't really possible to see his jaw tightening beneath his facial hair, but it showed in the muscles of his neck.

Mum fidgeted. She leant her palms on her knees, then crossed her arms.

"Why wouldn't you tell me that?" I asked.

Dad met my gaze. "Why would I?"

"No. No, don't fucking pull that. That's exactly what Tyler said. It's bullshit."

"David," Mum started.

"No, fuck this. Fuck you, all of you."

"David," she warned a second time, in the tone she reserved for whenever I was being an idiot or misbehaving. "Now is not the time or place."

Shit. I was angry at everybody. The whole abduction, the fighting, the shooting, had been traumatic in its own way. But I didn't care about that yet. What unsettled me were all the things that had been kept from me. Nobody was openly talking, but I needed it. I needed my answers. I needed my explanations.

---

Violet

I took the fact that Amelia brought my suitcase and laptop for what it was - I'd been kicked out.

I'd be taking up refuge with Darren for longer than I initially thought. Tyler even laughed about it - "Look after him, he can't cook for shit."

My future seemed pretty bleak. Not that it was possible to look far ahead, anyways. Life was trapped in a narrow scope, where the events of the next few days would determine everything. I felt pretty numb. Little spurts of emotions came and went.

"Darren," I said in the car. "What's going on?"

"You're staying with me for now."

"Are Zack and Lia angry with me?"

"They have David to worry about."

Right. I stared out the window. I wasn't even mad. I didn't blame them.

*

That evening was a blur. Darren spent much of it on the phone. Always with the fucking phonecalls. He liked to walk around a lot, as well. I could relate to that. I was a fidgeter. With a voice coming in one ear and my brain engaged, the rest of my body didn't know what to do.

I sat in the lounge with my laptop, listening to his conversations get louder and quieter as he moved in and out of the kitchen. It was interesting, at least, to keep track of the sheer amount of bullshit he could come up with, and try to figure out who he might be talking to, to be telling a particular story.

The general consensus was that David and Tyler had been in a car crash, and that was what held his attention the past few days. "Yes,anotherone," he confirmed to someone. "They're fine, yes. Perfectly conscious... yes... no... no. Tyler damaged a shoulder... just a strain..."

When he finally got some peace and quiet, he joined me in the lounge with another bottle of wine.

"Is this gonna make you into an alcoholic?" I asked, eyeing it over the screen of my laptop.

"No, I just need to make sure that I sleep."

"That's the kinda thing alcoholics say."

"I'm not an alcoholic, Violet."

He'd made his way through the first glass when another phonecall came. His frown turned to interest at seeing the name. He got to his feet and I tucked my legs back to let him past.

There was no bullshit in his tone. Less than a minute after wandering into the kitchen, he was back, and looking at me.

"John Lloyd and Eleanor Lewis, yes?" he asked.

I frowned, then nodded.

"Yes, that's them," he continued into the call. He straightened as he listened to Lawrence's voice. An expression passed over his face which I likened to satisfaction, but it faded. His hand went to his jaw, then his forefinger and thumb tugged on his bottom lip. "... Right. Okay. Well, no, but..."

'No' what? I stared at him, not wanting to interrupt but burning to know.

"Okay, thank you... Yes, I have her right here with me. Okay, yes. Bye."

"What's going on?" I asked before he'd barely taken the thing from his ear.

"Your parents are alive, but the police have them."

"What do you mean?"

"They've got some crimes under their belt, Violet."

I didn't know how to react. "So... they've been arrested?"

"Basically, yes."

"What's... what's happening, then?"

"I don't know."

"What's Lawrence-"

"This isn't his case. He's done a lot already."

Darren resumed his space on the sofa, and reached for his wine. I sat in a stunned silence. What was I supposed to do?

"Do you, err," I started. "Have a charger for this?" I pulled my phone out of my pocket - carrying around a phone with no battery, fucking useful, right? My charger hadn't come with my laptop and suitcase. I didn't know where it was.

He briefly examined the port in my phone's case. "Upstairs, the room two doors down the left. Tyler keeps a lot of shit in there. I can guarantee there's a charger for any and every model of smartphone to ever grace this planet."

I got my feet. "I need to make a call."

"To who?"

I hesitated and stared at the black screen in my hands, before stepping towards the door. "Someone in my parents' gang."

"Violet." I looked around to his cold gaze. "Don't get involved in anything else."

His awkward manner around me, like he had no idea what to do with me, had dissipated, replaced with a tone you'd expect from an elder family member. Like he was my dad, or something. Or, hell, my uncle.

"I'm not," I replied. "He just needs to know what's going on. Maybe he knows what to do."

"About what?"

"How to help my parents."

Darren's hand went to his brow, but I walked out.

Upstairs, I located that room. It could be heaven for me, free rein to go sticking my nose in and exploring, but I only wanted to find an appropriate charger and didn't care for anything else. There were boxes and boxes of shit. Wires, computer parts, metal bits of cases. It was like every computer, or laptop, or bit of technology Tyler had ever owned, had been ripped apart, the pieces kept and stored there. What for? What was the point?

I found what I was looking for, after enough thudding and clanking around. I plugged my phone in and waited just long enough for it to come alive. Moments after turning it on, some texts poured in.

A couple were from Harold, one even from Romain.

I had voicemails, too. I could probably wait and get a call, but it was better to take the initiative.

"Flower?" Harold's voice asked as he picked up.

"Hi."

"Holy shit, girl. What's been goin' on? I've been hearin' some crazy shit. Where the fuck are you?"

"Things didn't go to plan," I replied.

"Girl. Alan."

"What?"

"Alan Driscoll. He's been taken out. Is it true?"

"Oh, yeah. I shot him."

"What?"

"I didn't kill him, though. Darren Sörensen did."

"What?"

His spluttering and incredulous tone made me want to fuck with him.

"Vi, you took out a fucking Driscoll? What the fuck've you been doin'?"

"There was a police raid."

"Where's your parents?"

"Police got 'em."

There was a long silence. "Violet," he warned. "You speak clear now. What's happened?"

"I led the police to a raid on Driscoll. He's dead. I got nicked, too, but I'm out."

"What? How?"

"Because I know Darren Sörensen."

Another silence. "Vi, what game are you fuckin' playin' at?"

"I don't even know anymore. The police have Mum and Dad, Harold, and I don't know what to do. They were there, where the raid was. The police found them, and apparently they arrested them."

"Well, yeah. Your parents are wanted, girl."

That didn't really surprise me, but I hadn't directly known. "Are they?"

"Yeah, there was a job that went fuckin' pear shaped in Slough just before now. Shit. Fuckin' shit. This is the definition of out the fryin' pan and into the fire. You're an idiot, Vi. Thick as shit."

"Yeah. At least they're alive."

"Fuck. Now what? You really shot Alan Driscoll?"

"Yep."

"How?"

"With a gun someone gave to me."

"Who the fuck are these people you're mixin' with?"

I studied my thumbnail. "Rich and dangerous, apparently."

"What the fuck are we supposed t' do with this bollocks, Vi?"

"I dunno. You tell me."

"Fuck.Fuck."

He hung up on me. What an enlightening conversation. I was glad it was over. I hadn't been able to do my usual fidgeting, as I was tethered to the end of the charger's wire. I left my phone on the floor and went downstairs.

Darren was right where I'd left him on the sofa, looking at his own phone. The contents of the bottle hadn't changed. His second glass sat half empty on the coffee table. He looked up and cocked a brow.

"And?"

"He's pretty pissed," I replied. "Probably hearing from him again at some point." I dropped back into my seat and picked up my laptop. My eyes stared at the webpage I'd left open, but my brain read nothing.

Fuck this.

There was a layer of relief in knowing my parents were alive, but their situation was hell. I knew both would rather die than go behind bars.

"Darren. What do I do?"

He massaged his brow. "I don't know."

"Can I like, talk to the police, or-"

"I think you need to keep out of anything else, right now."

"I have to do something. Can't you do something?"

"Vi-"

"You've got money."

His mouth made lines in his cheeks with a grimace. "This has nothing to do with me. Yes, money. Not as useful as you think. Sometimes it can slip into the pockets of people in forensics and some evidence magically disappears-"

"Is that what you did? When you got us out?"

There was a stretch of silence. Darren was too busy typing a message on his phone. I tried to see the screen without making it obvious, and caught a glimpse of Amelia's name.

"Violet," he said. "You should've asked for help."

"What?"

"Back when this all started. You should've said something, to somebody."

"What was I gonna say? My parents are crooks, and they're in trouble with more crooks, who're like, ransoming them, for two-hundred grand?"

"Yes, exactly that."

"Nobody was gonna fucking help me."

"Why are you so sure of that?"

"Everybody already thinks I'm a gold digger anyways."

He gave me a long stare. "If it was a matter of saving your parents' lives, I'd give you the money, Violet."

"No. You'd just give me two-hundred grand?"

"If I thoroughly understood what it was for, yes."

"No. You cannot be serious."

"I'm very serious."

"Fuck you."

He let out a deep sigh. Fuck knows how, or why, he had any patience with me.

"Will you use that two-hundred grand to save them now?" I dared to ask.

"Tomorrow, Violet. Tomorrow I will see, about anything. I'm too tired to have this conversation right now." He reached for his wine glass.

"People like you don't exist," I said. "I think you're where David gets it from."

"What?"

"Why are you helping me?"

He gave me a look, then his attention was drawn to another vibration from his phone. "You're someone who needs help."

He had a habit of answering questions like that.

---

David

I needed to break things down into manageable chunks. Right then, my goal was seeing how fast I could get out of hospital. Easy enough. Tyler and I weren't exactly in critical conditions. The problem was that my body reached a point where it refused to sleep any more.

The visits were the only thing to look forward to. Wesley came and cheered me up. Violet came and soothed the internal turmoil I'd soon have to face. I managed to have a conversation with Darren, where he gave me blunt information, and not much else.

Mum managed to make me smile, but she looked more and more stressed with every day that passed. I didn't know what to make of Dad. He almost behaved like each visit was an obligation, and he didn't want to be there. But I saw it in his eyes - he was hurting. And beneath that, he was angry.

Things were lingering, but nothing was happening until I was out of hospital. I could see it. There was a pattern to how the visits played out.

After a few days, Tyler and I were moved into another room together. I didn't know if it was because we requested it, or if it was pure coincidence. With how kind and understanding the hospital staff were, I'm sure the they purposely made it happen.

Having Tyler around 24/7 might be enough to drive me insane, but at that point, I appreciated the company. We bantered back and forth, and there was all the typical clowning around anyone could expect. Tyler kept winding up the nurses, telling them how perfectly okay he was, taking off his sling, leaving the room when he shouldn't, getting chased down the corridor, and making a general nuisance of himself. Normal stuff.

The thing was, any time I chuckled or grinned, it seemed to make him equally happy.

One memorable mealtime he argued with a nurse about how he didn't like his food, and wanted it swapped. She put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows.

"That's what you ordered."

"Yeah, and now I'm eating it, I don't like it."

Since he'd half consumed it, she didn't want to comply. He resorted to some of the worst flirting I'd ever seen to persuade her, and it only lasted until she pulled the confused, "Aren't you gay?" card.

I nearly spat out my own mouthful. She finally took his tray to get him something else, rather than hear his spiel.

"You've lost your touch with women," I said.

"Kid, you've never had any touch with women."

"Hey, I scored Violet."

"No, Violet scored you."

I guffawed. Shit. He was right. "Yeah, well. Her and Wes are supposed to be coming in a bit."

"You mean your dad's letting Wes anywhere near her?"

And just like that, the joking hit reality too heavily. I poked at my food with an awkward pause. "Dad's really pissed with her."

"Yeah," Tyler agreed with a sigh, realising he'd killed the mood. "He is."

The visits involved Dad and Violet dodging around each other. From what I'd picked up on, Mum and Darren were doing everything possible to keep her away from him.

I didn't like it. I felt like I had to get out, to protect her. From my dad. Ridiculous.

"He's never trusted her," Tyler continued.

Him saying that felt like it should be a crippling realisation of nightmares coming true, but I was pretty indifferent. Perhaps because all along, I'd kinda known. "He hasn't, huh."

"No, he looks at her too much. And you don't have the same taste in women, kid."

I managed a smirk. "Do you trust her?"

"She shot the guy who was trying to kill me. We're cool."

I think Tyler was physically incapable of holding grudges. It was always water under the bridge with him.

"Shit, I wonder if the police found my car yet."

"Did they trash it?"

"No, they dumped it somewhere. Overheard them discussing how they'd need a fence." Irritation flashed across his face, the mere thought that they'd steal and sell off his favourite car.

"Tyler."

"What?"

"You know, um. When the police came."

"Uh-huh."

"Thanks for... like, making sure I didn't do anything stupid."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Thanks for not killing me, kid."

"I-"

"It was pretty dramatic, wasn't it? Fucking cops."

"I guess."

*

My stitches came out after seven days. We both got out of hospital right after. They wanted to keep Tyler in for a bit longer, but he wasn't having it. There was talk about things we were supposed to do, or not to do. I wasn't supposed to partake in any strenuous activity, Tyler was supposed to keep his sling until his check-up. Everybody knew that wasn't happening.

I was happy to be getting out, but there was a problem. I didn't know what the fuck was going on.

Wesley turned up with Mum. Violet turned up with Darren. There was some chatter, where Vi and Wes stayed in the room while I gathered my few things, and Tyler disappeared into the corridor. When we left, the three 'adults' were stood there having an 'adult' conversation.

There's a lot you can pick up from intuition and vibes. Tyler looked around to my presence, but Mum and Darren were a little more engrossed.

"Mum," I said, cutting into their voices. "Vi's coming home with us."

She looked at me, and hesitated. Thoughts passed through her eyes. She probably wanted to discuss things, but it still wasn't the 'time or place'. I wondered if it'd ever be the time or place. "Okay," she finally said.