Jessie Keane - Black Widow

Shh, Layla. Keep quiet.

Layla stared at the man. He was ugly but he had nice eyes, kind eyes. Probably, Layla decided, he wasn’t a man at all. He was probably an angel, Mummy had told her that she had a guardian angel and that the angel looked after her. Layla had begun to doubt that, just a little. But here the angel was, shushing her. Saying that everything would be all right.

The angel was coming closer.

But what if he wasn’t an angel?

What if he was a bad person, like those other bad people?

She opened her mouth; she was going to scream.

The angel put his hand over her mouth, shook his head.

No, Layla, keep quiet, it’s all right, it’s all going to be okay , he mouthed.

And then there were more loud noises, bangs and things, and that funny smell that guns made when they went off, and Layla buried her face in the big man’s neck and tried not to cry. When she dared to look up, she could see someone moving behind him, someone approaching fast. Someone big and dark and strong. Her eyes widened in alarm but she couldn’t tell the man, because his hand was still over her mouth. She couldn’t tell him there was danger.

Una came at Annie like a thing possessed. Annie just had time to fish in her pocket and to think, Oh fuck, I ain’t got the kiyoga , when Una crashed into her like a ton of bricks, punching, kicking and biting.

Annie fell back, arms up, blows raining down on her from all directions.

Una was bigger and stronger than her and she was enraged. Annie was driven back against the hall wall. A stunning blow caught her on the side of the head and she saw stars. She lost her footing and slid down the wall, dazed, disorientated. She saw Una looming over her, saw Una’s booted foot coming in, swinging in slow motion towards her stomach, and she tried to double over, to protect herself from the blow, but still there was terrible pain, it exploded hotly in her midriff and she screwed her face up in agony.

Rib , thought Annie, nausea flooding into her throat. Has she broken my fucking rib?

Una was coming in for a second kick.

Fuck it , thought Annie. She knew that Una’s boot had only to catch her in the wrong spot and she could bleed internally, bleed to death, in less time than it took to say knife.

Knife.

In the kitchen, there would be knives. If only she could reach the kitchen.

Which she couldn’t.

Annie tried to stand up but wobbled on her feet like a newborn lamb.

Una’s kick landed on her shin.

Bitch.

Annie fell to her knees, turning her body into the wall to shield it from Una’s punches and kicks.

Una was screaming, calling her a bitch , a murdering fucking bitch.

I’m dead , thought Annie. This is it, I’m dead.

Una pulled her leg back.

Annie sagged there and watched her do it.

Should have listened to Dolly , she thought dimly. Una’s not the sort to let a grudge go.

She braced herself for the next kick. There was nothing else left to do.

Tony saw Layla’s eyes widen, saw her staring over his shoulder, knew someone was coming up fast behind him. He half turned, raising the gun, trying to shield her small body with his own much larger one, and found himself staring into the black muzzle of a pistol with a strong steady arm and menacing dark eyes behind it.

‘Drop the gun,’ whispered the man.

Tony put the gun down. From up there in the hall he could hear a commotion, a woman screaming and swearing hysterically. The Boss was in trouble up there and, fuck it, now he was in trouble down here; his brains were about to paint this gloomy sodding hole in the ground, and the kid was going to die too.

‘Put the kid down,’ said the man.

Tony lowered Layla lightly to the ground.

‘Come here, kid,’ said Phil.

Layla bolted.

The man let out a shout and in the same instant there was a deafening noise and the gun spun away.

‘Shit!’ he roared, clutching at his bloody right hand.

Two of his fingers were gone, and Tony couldn’t have given a flying fuck for the man’s pain.

Constantine stepped out of the shadows, holding a smoking gun.

‘Watch it!’ yelled Tony, as Phil Fibbert pulled out a knife.

Annie was waiting for the next kick. It was going to hurt like crazy, and she was bracing herself to take it, or maybe to catch Una’s foot if she could, hold it, tip the crazy, despicable bitch off balance. That was her plan.

It wasn’t much of a plan, she knew that.

She felt very weak and her stomach was throbbing. Una had already done some damage. She braced herself, waiting for the kick.

It didn’t come.

Una let out a shriek of rage.

Annie looked up and saw that Aretha, six feet of solid black muscle, had come out of the lounge on hearing all the noise Una was making, and she had grabbed Una’s leg on the backswing and held it. Una was left hopping there, off balance, peering back in rage and hate at the woman now standing behind her.

‘Hey, stupid-why don’t you just pick on someone your own size?’ Aretha demanded, and gave Una’s leg a heavy sideways shove.

Una went flying and ended up in a tangle of arms and legs beside the kitchen door. But instead of coming back at Aretha straight away, she turned and ran into the kitchen.

Ellie and Dolly crowded out through the open lounge door. Ellie screamed when she saw what was going on in the hall. Dolly fell to her knees beside Annie, fearing she was seriously hurt.

‘Watch out, Aretha!’ yelled Annie, who was still watching Una.

But Aretha was on it. Years of beating up on willing clients had given her strength and speed, and the physique of a honed athlete. She tore after Una, and caught her before she got to the knife drawer beside the sink, bringing her down with a flying tackle.

Una was tough. She wriggled sideways, and booted Aretha in what should have been her face, but Aretha saw it coming and turned aside at the last moment so that it only caught her shoulder. Even so, it was painful. Aretha winced and let out a shout of protest. Then she clawed her way up Una’s squirming body and socked her squarely on the jaw.

Una’s head thudded back on to the hard tiled floor. ‘Bitch,’ she gasped out, and stuck her foot in Aretha’s midriff and hauled her up so that she went flying over her head.

Aretha hit the floor hard, all the wind knocked out of her. She lay there for seconds, unable to do a thing. Una grabbed her chance to scramble up on to hands and knees and come at her again. Una belted Aretha on the jaw, but Aretha shot straight up after that and hit Una between the eyes.

Ellie came flying into the kitchen, trying to pull Una off Aretha, but Una turned and whacked her hard across the face, knocking her aside. Then she turned and socked Aretha again. This time the blow really connected. Aretha’s head spun. She fell back on to the floor and lay there, dazed.

Una saw her moment. She struck Aretha savagely again, then scrabbled above her to open the sink drawer and reach the knives inside. They were right beside the two dead bodies of Una’s brother and sister. Aretha’s leg brushed against one of them and she felt a chill as the skin on the corpse was already cooling. Hell, she’d be cooling too, if she didn’t stop the bitch getting a fucking carving knife out of that damned drawer…

Una’s hand fastened over a tin-opener and she brought it down viciously towards Aretha’s forehead. Aretha rolled, and the tin-opener speared her dreadlocks, pinning one to the floor. Aretha tugged, but she was nailed there. Panicking, she saw Una going for the drawer again, unable to see what she was reaching for, but scrabbling around in there, looking for something, anything, to finish this.