Hornet's Nest Ch. 10

---

Violet

Things were going to get sorted. Slowly, maybe painfully. Not likely to end up perfect, but at least bearable.

We got back pretty late. Amelia opened the front door before David got his key in the lock. He was right, that she'd be angry. The first thing she saw was his lip, and she frowned with a trace of confusion. Then she saw the bruise on my cheek, and her eyes went livid. She shot David a glare.

He could've bullshitted about how we ran into some trouble, but of course, he wasn't a liar. The guilt was far too obvious on his face.

"For God sake, David," she snapped. She looked about ready to slap him, but that would be hypocritical, wouldn't it? She did nothing of the sort.

"It's okay," I said. "Please, really, it's okay."

She shook her head, but left us to it. We went upstairs, took a shower together, and went to bed.

*

The next day was mostly spent with Wesley. He was ready to talk, too. He'd been stewing and thinking, and now he finally made his mind up on how he felt... Or not. The three of us sat on David's bed for a couple of hours, going through everything.

"You know what pisses me off the most?" Wesley asked. "It's that I saw this. Well, not this, exactly. But there was always something about you that seemed 'off', Vi."

I couldn't forget him coming into social sciences and having a go at me, nor his very first introduction. "Yeah, I looked like a 'gang kid' to you, huh?"

"Well I was right, wasn't I?"

"Not exactly."

"Yeah, okay, it's your parents' gang, you're still basically in it."

"But I'm not-"

"Look, shut up, stop being pedantic. I thought you were just a bit of a shady bitch, but it was worse than that, wasn't it? I just feel like I had something, like some gut instinct, and I didn't follow on it."

"And you feel like this is your fault?"

"No, not really. Sorta. I dunno. I just hate the whole thing, I hate everything that's happened."

"What were you gonna do? Tell David not to be with me and fall out with him?"

David smirked and Wesley shrugged.

"Well, I did tell you not to fuck with my family, Vi. And you still went and did it. Worse than I ever expected."

"I know."

"It's so fucked up. I want to be angry at you but I just... I can't. I mean, I like you. And it's kinda not your fault, and it kinda is."

"For what it's worth, I'm really sorry, Wes."

"I don't want to be angry, that's what it is. I don't want to hate you, I don't want to lose you as a friend. I don't want you and David to break up. I don't want Dad and Darren to yell at each other. I don't want things to not be okay. And I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. I don't know if I should be taking some kind of stand here, or just letting it all fade into history."

"Everythingisgonna be okay," David said.

"Yeah, I guess. But I'm just really confused. It's like I don't have an opinion."

"You want more time to think?"

"No, I'm done, I'm fuckin' done thinking about this shit, man." He sighed. "I just want to move on. I mean, is that okay? Or does it mean I'm just ignoring this whole thing and not dealing with it?"

"Forgive but don't forget?" I offered.

He chuckled. "I guess that works. I dunno. I wanna know how you feel, Vi. What were you thinking?"

David snorted before I could come up with an answer. "What was going on in her head, right? Wes, don't even bother. I don't understand her.Shedoesn't understand her."

I tossed him a look, but didn't really take any offence. He was right, so what was the point? "What was going through my head, was that I had to do whatever it took to try and save my parents, because I knew they'd do the same for me."

"And that's it?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, you shot people. You killed people. You're not even gonna get in trouble for it. How do you feel about that?"

"Honestly, nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nope."

There was a genuinely troubled expression on Wesley's face, and he looked at David. "Fucking hell, it's just like Tyler. He doesn't give a shit either."

"I know," David replied.

"And Dad. Zero fucks there."

"Darren shot people too," I said.

"Yeah, but he actually feels a bit bad about it."

"Wes, if we didn't kill them they were gonna kill us. Do you get that?"

"It's so fucked up."

"There was one I didn't kill," I said. "Because he was actually, well, nice to me."

There was a pause of silence, and even David looked at me with a frown.

"His name was Alex. When I... when I first got the gun out and shot Driscoll, he just stared at me, I guess in a kinda shock. But when the others went for me, he didn't move. And then when I pointed the gun at him, he just kinda held his hands up," I demonstrated, "and shook his head. So I didn't shoot him. And when I turned my back on him he didn't go for me."

"Well that's something," Wesley said.

"The police got him anyways, so I'm sure his life's not great right now, but at least he's alive, right?"

"So you're not a completely cold-blooded killer. Always good to know."

I had no idea why David suddenly got emotional. His eyes watered and he tried to wipe it away without much success. "God," he muttered. "I hate this too, Wes. I wish it'd never happened. I hate that I was right there through everything."

"Hey, mate..."

"I'm fine, it's just... When does Dad get home?"

"Well he said he was coming home early, so I guess that means three?"

*

Zack did get in around 3pm. David went downstairs to check up with him while I waited with Wes. Five minutes later he was back, and gestured for me to follow.

I was nervous. I didn't know what to expect. I entered the lounge with Zack casually sitting on the sofa in his suit, like he was some therapist and I was walking in to a session. I took an armchair, not sure I wanted to be within a certain distance of him. That hole in the plaster was still there.

David left after I'd sat down. I didn't know how I felt about it, but didn't have much time to think because I looked around to Zack leaning on his knees, staring right into my eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"... What?"

He gave me a look - 'don't waste my time'. "What do youwant?"

"I... I don't know."

"That's not going to get you far." He sat back on the sofa, but didn't take his eyes off me.

"I, err..."

"Does it take you long to think about, or you just don't want to say?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Bullshit, you're not taking the question simply enough. Do you want to go running to the drug gang?"

"No-"

"Do you want to spend your life doing their jobs?"

"No-"

"Do you want to finish university?"

"Yes-"

"Do you want to marry David?"

"I don't know-"

"Do you want kids?"

"I've never thought about it." I frowned at him, finally given a breather. "I want to make things right, that's what I want."

"And how do you think you'll do that?"

"I don't know."

"You want to make me like you?"

"I guess, yeah."

"I do like you, because you're loyal. You think on your feet. I don't like you, because you're a threat to my family."

"Well, how do I prove I'm not?"

"You can't, because you are. This is not up for debate."

Jesus. What was talking with him supposed to achieve again?

"Come here," he said. I frowned at him until he repeated himself. "Come here."

I moved across the room and sat at the far end of the sofa.

"You need to leave it behind, and start a new life."

"I'm trying."

"And it's not easy, is it?" His eyes finally softened. I only saw with a brief glance before I was staring back at the floor. "Your phone." I pulled it out, and he leant forward to take it from my hand, giving it a wave at my nose. "This is the first thing that has to go. Every name, every number, you have to cut contact. Get a new number, throw this one. You have to disappear, and you have to keep avoiding them every time they try to track you down. You don't answer, you don't talk, you never confront. You avoid." He tossed it back onto my lap. "Can you do that?"

"Yeah."

"You know people in your university's town."

"Yes."

"And are they going to make life difficult?"

"I dunno... The main one, Romain. He's in, but he never does the heavy stuff. He just sells."

"Will he leave you alone?"

"Probably?"

"The objective is to make them waste enough time and resources trying to track you down that they decide it's not worth it. You don't make enemies, you don't piss anyone off. You fade out of their immediate thoughts."

"They've known me since I was a kid."

"They knew me since I was a boy."

I gave him another glance. He'd already achieved what I wanted to. I needed to listen to him, it was just hard, and infuriating, to have something that should have provided such common ground, such a connection, and have a wedge firmly stuck into it.

"How many know what university you're at?"

"Not many. My parents, Romain, Harold..."

"And what's Harold?"

"Lieutenant."

"Right. And how big of a threat is he?"

"Big. He's not gonna leave me alone until the mess with my parents is sorted out in some way."

There was a pause. Zack inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose. "Do you think it might be best, if they're locked up?"

My gaze snapped to him in shock. "No...No."

"They're top of your priority list to break contact with."

"I will fucking do it. But they can't go to prison. Please."

He gave me a doubtful look.

"Zack, I can do it. I'll cut contact with them. They might even understand. But they can't go to prison, not like this. If they legitimately get caught one day, they're prepared for that themselves, but not like this."

"Well they were caught by Driscoll's guys, weren't they?"

"It's not the same. The cops didn't put in the effort of catching them. It's not fair." I felt childish, but it was how I saw it. My parents loved each other. They'd been through everything together. This would tear them apart, in every possible way. It was a fate worse than death for them. I couldn't easily explain it to Zack, I couldn't find the words for it. I didn't know if he understood. "Can't you do something?"

"Lawrence is ready to play as their solicitor on Darren's money. He doesn't think there's anything he can do, though."

"If they can get out, and get back to Harold, it will get him off my back and make my life a whole lot easier, too. God, isn't theresomething?"

There was another pause. "I can think of something," Zack finally said. "It depends on if your parents are up to it. It also guarantees that they'll be cutting contact with you from their end. Two birds, one stone."

*

Lawrence came around that evening. He arrived at the tail end of our dinner, so there was some awkward small talk while we finished up and he waited. Then he asked if I would like to go with him for a bit, to discuss certain matters.

David got all defensive, and had to be assured that it was okay. I wasn't in trouble.

"Where'd you get the bruise?" Lawrence asked me as I clambered into the passenger side of his car.

"David."

He scowled. "Good grief. Why?"

"We got into a fight."

"His lip, huh?"

"Yeah."

He shook his head and I stared out the window. I didn't know this man, and wasn't sure how to talk to him.

"Are we going somewhere specific, or are you just gonna drive in circles?" I asked.

"I was going to go to the pub. We can drive in circles if you really want."

"No."

"All right."

"Darren said you would keep me updated on what was happening with my parents. You haven't."

"It's been an absolute mess. I've been making sure your name stays out of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Police have a lot of loose ends they're trying to tie up, it's always very interesting when two criminal sides clash. They wanted to question you about it all. Anyways, Keane says he has a proposition."

"Yes."

"Shall we wait until we're at the pub?"

"Sure."

It wasn't a very long drive. Lawrence ordered himself some food and a drink, and me a glass of Coke. "So," he said once we were comfortably seated. "What've you got?"

"Zack's idea," I started, now wondering if we were in a good place to be discussing it, "is to pay their bail, and they go on the run, and never show up to court."

"... And that's it?"

"Yeah. Not like they've got a chance of winning in court or anything, is it?"

"Highly unlikely... Still, that's a hell of a life."

I dragged my finger through condensation on my glass. "Not exactly worse than what they've already been living."

"Sörensen can't have his name to their bail. He's involved in enough scandals as it is."

"No, Amelia's going to organise paying it."

"Right. Okay. So I guess I'll be speaking with her."

"I guess." I studied him across the table. "What are you anyways? Like some private detective?"

He looked back at me. "I'm a DI. I do some private work on the side." His gaze returned to his plate. "Private clients are always very specific."

"Involved with Driscolls?"

"Yes."

"That's how you met Darren?"

"Sort of. His family used to have a private investigator. He used to be in the force, but quit and went fully private. Apparently the Sörensen family case is what made him quit."

"Why?"

"Police let it go cold. There was just nothing to go on."

"What was the case?"

"Just finding out who the murderers were. Jackson was determined, though. Never gave up on it. He got pretty close, picked up a good lead and was piecing it all together, then kicked the hornet's nest and they lashed out and another Sörensen died. Then shortly after that was the crash with Brendan Driscoll's body. So suspicions did all get confirmed. That's when Jackson got in contact with me, to get me in contact with Darren."

"So that was it? He was done and you took his place?"

"Ah, he smoked himself to death."

I frowned and Lawrence gave me another glance across the table.

"Lung cancer, couple years after the Brendan incident. If he'd just got himself checked out sooner, could've prevented it. But he was one of those blokes."

"Is he that Ted guy I've heard Tyler talking about?"

Lawrence nearly spat out a mouthful of food, struggled to swallow, then coughed and chuckled with a hand covering his mouth. "Tyler used to wind him up so much."

"I think Tyler winds everybody up."

It was the first time I'd seen Lawrence smile, not that I'd seen a lot of him before then. "Jackson was a good man. We all used to tease him a bit. What was it, 'Jack-Of-All-Trades'. He never seemed to know what he wanted to do, so he did everything. One man army. Tough life, though, working for this family who seemed fairly good at all getting themselves killed."

"I guess."

"He took on the impossible and gave it everything he had. He lived through his work. Like I said, good man."

"And I guess it paid well, too."

He snorted, and studied me. "Why, you thinking of becoming a PI?"

I shrugged. "I've never even thought about it."

"Who knows, maybe you'd be good. Your whole takedown of Alan was quite impressive."

"It was all flukes and accidents."

"I don't know, you seemed to make some good decisions in there. Pretty hands-on, though. Might want to get some self-defence training in if that's your style."

He was half joking and half serious. I wondered whether or not to mention parkour. I went out with him expecting to talk about my parents, not about me.

---

David

It was going to be the first and last time I ever met Violet's parents.

Once decisions were made, the police just wanted to get on with it all. As soon as her parents were out from wherever they were being held, Lawrence directed them, and us, to where we could meet.

Dad was taking us. Relations were still shakey, but he was in the process of taking Vi under his wing. It was always in danger of being domineering if she didn't keep a backbone. He would oversee everything, and ensure she did nothing wrong. Likewise, he'd make sure her parents didn't get up to anything. And you know what? The part he'd never admit, but I was quite sure of - he was curious.

I was curious. I wondered if they'd live up to the haphazard expectations I'd undoubtedly formed in my mind. I hadn't heard a lot, but I'd heard enough.

Before we were in the car, I managed to ask Vi if she was nervous. Her response was an informative shrug.

There wasn't much talking the whole drive.

Dad quickly behaved like there was something to be suspicious of. When we pulled into the park's carpark he was already looking around, turning his head and leaning forward for a better view out of the windows.

"God," Vi remarked, noticing it as well.

"Will they have gotten in contact with Harold yet?" he asked her.

"No. They're doing nothing 'til they see me. You can trust them."

He tossed her a look, but stopped the engine and opened his door.

They were there somewhere, and now we had to find them. I didn't understand why the whole ordeal had to be so discreet, but Lawrence didn't want anybody knowing Dad had spoken with them in person. Something about pre-emptive measures to reduce impending hassle.

Violet's parents weren't in trouble yet. They'd be in trouble some weeks from now, when they never showed up.

Vi sped up, spotting a pair of figures on a bench ahead. They took more interest in us the closer we got. The woman got to her feet but stood where she was, as if fighting to contain herself and not erupt in any sort of noticeable manner.

Violet broke it, surging with a sprint. She flung herself at the woman and both staggered, but squeezed each other. Dad and I caught up at a more leisurely pace.

The man stayed on the bench. His expression briefly lit up at the embrace before him, but faded to something blank once we stopped a few feet away. Dad took one more subtle look around, like it was his last chance at spotting any unwanted company. The man either took offence to Dad's behaviour, or something about him put his back up - he sat forward, arms on his knees, and noticeably stared. Dad's gaze only slid over him before paying attention to Violet's mother.

It was safe to say that Ellie Lewis looked close enough to how I'd imagined her, if only because I'd pictured her looking so alike to her daughter. She wore a leather biker jacket, and stood with a sturdy stance. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had tattoos all up her arms. There weren't any obvious piercings, only a faint scar one side of her nose where it looked one may have been ripped out. She and Vi had similar face shapes, but their eyes and hair were completely different.

Vi didn't get those features from her dad, either. It was almost peculiar. Genetics must have carried down from a grandparent somewhere. Either that, or the man sitting on the bench wasn't actually her father.

He was pale, with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes that could've been black. Half his face was hidden behind a beard that didn't look to have been trimmed in weeks. He studied me, briefly, before his eyes darted to Vi, then back to Dad. He had to be her father, the way he sat there silently watching everything.

"Keane?" Ellie asked, holding a hand out to Dad. He shook it and affirmed with a nod.

John finally rose from the bench to physically greet Vi. After the brief hug he was back to watching. He wasn't particularly tall, either. Maybe he just found Dad and I unsettling. A stark contrast to Ellie, who seemed to find us fascinating.

"David?" she said, but it wasn't much of a question. She knew exactly who I was. "Let me get a look at ya, finally in the flesh." She grabbed my chin in her fingers and I wanted to pull away, but didn't. "Why do the pair of you's look like you've been in a fight?"

"My fault," Vi quickly said, and Ellie gave her a mockingly motherly scowl. "I was trying to leave, to sign up to the service."