Jessie Keane - Black Widow

‘I saw her down there. I saw the little girl, I saw Layla,’ Ellie cried.

One of the men barrelled past Ellie, who was being pulled into Dolly’s comforting arms, and aimed a gun down the cellar steps. Annie surged forward, but Constantine held her back. The kitchen door was open and Annie stared at the bloodied corpses on the floor beside the sink.

One male, one female.

Jeanette’s brother and sister, she guessed.

The one down in the cellar killed his partners in crime. He’d shot Darren, and God knew how badly he was hurt. Thwarted, he might now shoot Layla. Perhaps he had hold of her right now. Perhaps, right this instant, he was putting the muzzle of the gun to her head.

Annie shuddered.

The fact that he was trapped would make him even more dangerous and desperate. He knew the game was up, that there would be no payout, no good ending to this mad scheme. And, knowing that, he might decide what the hell? That he would thwart Annie Carter anyway, pay her back for breaking the rules, for having the temerity to come looking when they had told her no. He might even now kill Layla, out of spite.

Constantine’s henchman was looking down the cellar steps. He looked briefly back at Constantine, held up one finger, then passed the finger across his throat.

One down.

Darren , thought Annie painfully. Poor brave bloody stupid Darren.

Then Constantine’s man was gone, moving fast down the cellar steps. Another shot rang out, a ricochet, and a shout.

Oh Jesus , thought Annie. Not Layla. Please, not Layla.

Constantine’s other boy was now at the top of the stairs, peering around the edge of the wall, very cautious. Shooters were being used; he was right to be bloody cautious. As Constantine and the women watched, he started off down the cellar steps.

‘Take Ellie in there,’ Annie hissed to Dolly, and Dolly nodded grimly and led the devastated girl into a shabby old lounge.

Annie exchanged a tense glance with Aretha. ‘Go with them,’ she said.

‘No, girl’

‘Yes , Aretha,’ said Annie firmly. ‘I’ve got one friend down there who could be dead already, I don’t want to have to worry about you too.’

Aretha reluctantly nodded and went into the lounge with Dolly and Ellie, pulling the door closed behind them.

Tony stood there at Annie’s side. He looked at Constantine.

‘What you want me to do?’ he asked.

Fuck it, shouldn’t he be asking me that? thought Annie angrily. She was the boss, not Constantine. It was her daughter these freaks had got hold of.

‘Watch that she stays safe,’ said Constantine, indicating Annie. He threw his coat aside, pulled out a pistol, and started to head towards the cellar steps.

Annie felt a new thrill of fear.

Not for her daughter.

Not for Darren.

Not for herself.

For Constantine. Because he was actually going to do it. He was going to lay his life on the line for her and for Layla.

‘No, don’t go down there,’ she said.

Constantine stopped moving. He looked at her. Leaned in close, just for a fleeting moment. Kissed her lips.

Panic gripped her. She’d already lost Max. She could still lose Layla. She was shocked to find that she didn’t want to lose Constantine, too.

What the hell is going on here? she wondered wildly.

He went over to the cellar door, and vanished down the steps.

‘I’m going too,’ said Annie, starting forward.

‘No, Boss. No way,’ said Tony, blocking her progress.

‘Then you go. Go and help him, for God’s sake!’ Frantic, Annie drew out Max’s revolver. His faithful old Smith & Wesson. ‘It’s a hair trigger, Tone. Be careful.’ She handed him the gun.

Tony weighed it thoughtfully in his hand. ‘You stay up here, okay, Boss? You stay up here where it’s safe. We don’t need too many down there, you got me?’

In other words, you’re a woman, and a woman has no place in a situation like this.

It rankled with Annie, but she knew it made sense. ‘I’ll stay here,’ she promised.

Tony gave her a cheery grin. ‘We’ll get Layla back, Boss. Don’t you worry.’

And Tony too vanished into the cellar’s maw, and she wondered if she was going to see any of them again.

Suddenly she was alone in the hallway. The cellar was quiet. She hugged herself hard and screwed her eyes tight shut. Horrible images crowded into her brain, of Layla scared, hurt, and alone. If ever there was a time when she had to dig deep, it was now.

She opened her eyes and they fastened on the nightmare just visible through the half-open kitchen door.

Two people, brother and sister, lying dead in a pool of blood.

She knew their names now. Vita and Danny Byrne.

She thought with vicious hatred of Jeanette, their sister, once Jonjo’s bit of fluff and now the mistress of that traitorous bastard Jimmy Bond. Jeanette, with her motor mouth and her silly prancing ways: she had fooled them all. She had been the viper in the Carter nest, the insider, ready to turn against her hosts at a moment’s notice, the greedy, treacherous cow. Annie promised herself that she wasn’t even started with Jeanette and Jimmy yet, not by a long shot.

She froze as she saw the back door start to swing inward and she held her breath when she saw who was standing there.

‘Vee? Dan?’ Una called softly.

Una. Una really was in on it too.

Annie felt sick and dizzy with rage.

Una had watched her suffer, had enjoyed her suffering. All that smirking and stalking about the place, and all the time she had known; the bitch had known that Layla was being held hostage by her brother and sister. The whole Byrne family were due to profit from Annie and Layla’s misery and distress, and from Max’s and Jonjo’s untimely deaths.

Bastards!

Una paused in the doorway, looking left and right. Her eyes fell upon the two bodies and her mouth dropped open. She fell to her knees beside them, muttering no no no , checking for pulses, her movements jerky with shock and horror.

Waste of fucking time.

Annie felt a shudder of grim satisfaction as she watched Una’s frantic efforts to rouse her siblings.

No pulses there, not a hint of a breath.

Her brother and sister were dead.

Good riddance to bad rubbish , thought Annie.

For Una, reality sank in slowly. There were even a few tears squeezed out by that cold, hard, hateful bitch. Annie saw them fall on to the broken bodies lying there, heard the guttural sounds of grief emanating from her.

She had made those noises too. She recognized them. They were old friends, those noises of pain and anguish and unbearable loss. Her husband had died. Her daughter had been snatched and subjected to mutilation and incarceration and maybe even worse, how the hell would she know?

So Annie felt no sympathy for Una. None whatsoever. She stood there like a stone, watching as Una realized that her loved ones were gone. Then the blonde Amazon half turned towards the open hall door, and her eyes met Annie’s.

Annie was smiling.

With maniacal speed, Una came screeching down the corridor towards her.

Layla huddled in a dark corner with her eyes closed. She felt safe that way. In fact, it was the only time she actually felt even a little bit safe, when her eyes were closed, because then she couldn’t see anything bad, and if she couldn’t see it, then it wasn’t there.

Now she heard movement very near to her. Layla opened her eyes. It might be a rat. She had seen a rat down here just now. She didn’t mind rats. They were like big mice.

But it wasn’t a rat. It wasn’t the man with the dark eyes and hair either. It was a big, bald-headed man wearing golden earrings with tiny crucifixes dangling from the small gold hoops. The man held a finger to his lips as their eyes met in the half-gloom. His lips moved.