Durability (The LockDown Series Book 3) (38 page)

Then, like the fucker has some kind of death wish, he laughs, a maniacal lark right in my face. “It’s good I killed that fucking whore, your new wife is much better, Leighton. I applaud you for your taste in women. How did it feel, watching her die and you couldn’t do anything about it?” I huff a single laugh before punching him again.

His head smashes to the side with the force of my assault. I take a few steps back, picking up my beloved glock from the floor. I check the mag in it, checking its quantity, but more so to torment him. I actually like the fact he hadn’t died before, it gives me the sick pleasure of killing him all over again. “Does anyone else want a go, you know, before I blow his fucking head off?” I ask, watching as his face remains the same, unaffected arsehole.

In turn, all of my men, including the newly acquired ones, take a piece of him, smashing into him, until his body is limp, bleeding and broken entirely. His jaw hangs loosely, his nose splattered against his shattered cheeks. His eyes are puffed and shut tightly, black and blue with his injuries.

It is perverse, enjoying the way his body is right now, seeing him so defeated and broken, but with every hit to him, every break of a bone that crunches loud enough to hear, my heart is swelling with happiness and pride.

“This is for everyone, you lousy piece of fucking shit. I will never think of you, I will never take a second to miss you. I will enjoy your absence and celebrate your death, you stupid fucking cunt.” I raise my gun, looking down the barrel to aim. I take one shot, the boom echoing through the tin can building, a bullet piercing his thigh sharply. He whines in pain as blood trickles around the hole in his flesh, the metal non-existent.

I shoot another round at the other thigh, deliberately missing his major artery. I want this slow and painful. “Feel that burn, how it feels like fire is taking over your body, attacking your nervous system? That’s what it feels like to have a bullet in your body, father.” I laugh out, watching as he begins to fight back.

I un-strap him, pulling him from his seat. He stands, barely, his arms hanging down by his sides. “Let’s see, will he fight for his life or will he submit and give up?” I say, my own sadistic side coming out to play. I give him a light slap to the face, his body almost falling over. I help him to remain standing. “Sorry daddy, can't have you giving up that quickly.”

“My turn?” Luke asks, cracking his knuckles loudly. They are already cut and bleeding from his relentless attack on my father’s face and now, they are going to get worse.

I nod, laughing as Luke lets out a huge lungful of air. Here is his chance to release everything. I have already emptied my sorrow years ago, doing this. Now, this is his turn, his time to take revenge for his brother’s death.

“You a big man, James? You think it’s okay to kill an innocent man when his back is turned? You think it’s okay to kill my babies' father and my brother? You think that’s acceptable?” Luke walks around my father, tormenting him as he cracks his knuckles, his neck and back.

“He’s... better off... dead,” James Lock grumbles out, blood laced spittle dribbling from his chin.

“YOU FUCKING CUNT!” Luke snaps, losing the plot completely. I let him get on with it, let him take every ounce of hate he has out on this useless piece of shit. He kicks, punches and smashes into my dad until he falls to the floor. Even when he lay unconscious to the world, Luke repeatedly kicks at his face and stomach, final gasps of desperate air being dragged into my father. Luke is killing him, beating him to death and every person in the room is happy about the fact.

“CUNT!” he shouts one more time, pulling his blade out. He crouches onto the floor beside my father, getting into his face. “See this; I am going to kill you with it, James. In a few moments, you will cease to exist and I will celebrate the fact with a nice fucking brandy. Take one last look at the world, arsehole, because you’re dead as of now,” he bites out, his voice more aggressive and sadistic than I have ever heard before.

He grips the knife, plunging it deep into my father’s stomach. A gasp leaves his throat, his eyes opening wide as he twists it and then pulls it out. Blood gushes from James Lock’s stomach onto the floor around him. A pool of red surrounds him, trickling further towards us.

Luke stands, wipes his blade off and tucks it back into his boot. Then he turns and leaves through the doors we had entered. One by one, the men follow, until Antonio and I are the only ones left. “I can't believe we had to do this again. Was one time not enough?” Ant asks, squeezing my shoulder supportively.

“It’s the end for good, this time. I’ll make sure of it,” I say, before aiming my gun at his head and releasing three bullets into his skull. The
pop, pop, pop
sound, chills my soul before calming me and releasing all of my past anguish and hurt.

“Sort this out please?” I ask Ant, looking to the man that had sired me, that had robbed me of love and life, had disrespected and killed my mother and my fiancée. He is dead, for real, and there isn’t a thing in this world that I have ever been as happy about.

I walk from the building without looking back.

It is finally the end.

My life, as I had known it has changed drastically. Six months have passed, the memory of Bradley still strong in everyone’s mind, but we are now able to cherish his memory rather than feel so bitter and depressed about it.

Maria and Luke are moving past everything, focusing on their babies who are, without saying, beautiful. JT’s hair is the same colour as his father's, bright blond with his intense blue eyes gives him the same look as Bradley and Luke, which is a beautiful thing to have. Everyone knows and understands how much Brad loved the babies, how much he treasured them. He would be so glad to see how they have both come on in the world, how they are both growing and now eating solid food. Behaving the same way Mel had when she began eating food. Hands and faces are the main instruments of eating, according to babies.

My own daughter is now 15 months old, walking, talking and bossing everyone around. Her attitude is adorable and I can’t ever begrudge her. It is funny to see how Leighton deals with his daughter back chatting him, he promptly puts her back in her place, regardless of the puppy dog eyes she always gives him.

Joe, as always, is brilliant. Now eight years old and shining brightly. He is so intelligent, one of the smartest, if the not the smartest in his year. Sometimes, it takes me a while to understand what he is talking about when he talks about space and medicine and whatever other stuff he has studied. Not at school, no, he sits at home on the iPad or the laptop, searching and studying random things. He wants to be a doctor, to help people who desperately need it. I think, after losing his mother and his uncle he is inclined to make sure it never happens again.

I am in my bedroom, getting ready for a party. Leighton has organised it to start anew. Everyone is invited, including his new partner; Lucas. I have become very good friends with Paris, learning some ways to drive my own husband insane with her dominance. She is perfect, so confident and free it is refreshing to know her.

Antonio’s little girl, Chloe, is just like him. The same attitude and loving personality. Her skin, so glowing and bronze is like his and Maria’s, her dark hair in wisps all over her head. I sigh, thinking about our family and how we are finally at peace to live our lives.

“You ready Angel?” Leighton asks from the doorway. I’m seated at my dresser, putting a pair of earrings in
, that trail down and rest against my neck.

“Yes, almost,” I reply, standing to smooth my gown out. When we party here, we party properly. Nothing is casual, everything is posh and pristine. Everyone wears suits and ball gowns, because that’s just how we do it.

I spray a first squirt of my favourite perfume, the beautiful scent of flowers filling the area. “God, I love that smell. It always drives me crazy. Do you know, when I’m sat outside, I get this raging fucking hard on for you, every time the scent of the roses wafts past. That’s what you do to me, baby. You make me hard for you, all the fucking time. And now, I’m going to be driven mad all night with you in this dress.” He trails a finger down my spine, the back opening to the dress revealing a lot of skin.

“You like it, baby?” I ask him, lacing my voice with seduction. My entire body, once again, is a rush of excitement and arousal. I will once again have to fight with my own desire and need all night to stop me from jumping him in the middle of our party. With children around, it isn’t exactly the best thing.

“Are my parents here?” I ask, slipping my feet into a pair of Jimmy Choo’s.

“Yes, they are. They are enjoying some time with Melissa and Joe. They have taken to him rather quickly. They look at him and treat him like he is their own grandchild, it’s wonderful. I never imagined I would have this life, let alone be able to gift my son it.”

“I can’t wait to see my little sister, I bet she’s grown so much.” I smile happily, so content with my life now.

“Yeah, grown into a little shit,” he replies and I slap his arm.

“LEIGHTON, you can’t say that. She’s only a little girl. Plus, I’m her big sister so I’ll kick your arse if you hurt her.” I poke my tongue out, but then giggle and kick out as he begins to tickle me.

“Stop, please,” I beg, almost screaming.

“Say sorry. Say I’m the best husband in the world,” he orders me and I comply immediately, wanting the torture to end. “Good girl.” He taps my head patronisingly.

“Get out of here, arsehole. I’ll be down in a second,” I say, wiggling from his grasp.

“Oh no you don’t.” He grabs me to him again, my back to his front, melding perfectly into his firm body. “I am escorting you down, my angel.” He kisses my neck gently, his lips causing an immediate zap of lust and love through my body. Every nerve ending is on end and turning my heart into mush. “I love you baby, forever and always, until my last breath in the world,” he whispers, trailing kisses along my skin, his tongue and teeth joining the mix and making me squirm with need.

“Leighton,” I moan out, unable to stop myself from expressing my need for him. He brings one of his hands down to my parted thighs, cupping my sex erotically.

“That’s right, say my name baby. Always my name.” He continues to torment me, stroking through my dress at my heated flesh.

“Always,” I answer, pushing against his attack on my pussy, needing relief.

Suddenly he removes his hand and backs away. “Come, malady
, the party is starting.” He holds his elbow out to me, very gentlemanly. I take it, smiling at him, but cursing him inwardly for leaving me in such a state of arousal before having to spend the evening struggling for his time and attention. With so many people here that need to see him, I will be lucky to get a few dances in. I don’t begrudge him for it, I just hate the fact I am now horny as hell and he has deliberately done it.

I love my husband, more than life itself, but sometimes he can be a torturous bastard. “I promise, everything will be perfect tonight,” he tells me as we walk from our master suite and through the upper halls. We take the grand staircase, as we had on my twenty-second birthday, my high heels clinking against the surface, sounding through the expanse of the mansion, echoing and bouncing from wall to wall.

The large chandelier above the staircase, glistens in rainbow-technicolor as the lights around hit and bounce off of it. I smile and sigh happily at all of the happy memories I have in this house, everything bad that has happened has only proven to me how strong my family is, how resilient and perfect they all are. I’m so happy to have them all, even the new additions.

“Let’s start the rest of our lives all over again, Angel,” Leighton tells me as we arrive at the ballroom and the entire thing has transformed into a heavenly sanctuary. The back doors lay wide open with a carpet down the middle, leading outside.

“May I have her?” my dad asks Leighton, slipping my arm into his. Leighton kisses my cheek and then disappears outside.

“What’s going on dad?” I ask, my face obviously laced with confusion.

“The start of the rest of your life. I love you princess, I will always love you,” he tells me, kissing my cheek and fixing a stray piece of hair from my up-do. My
white
ball gown shimmers, the lace and intricate sequins dancing in the lights.

My father leads me through the ballroom, already set out with tables and a dance floor.

A gasp leaves my throat as we arrive to the open double doors and every person important to me is standing and watching as I walk down a white-carpeted aisle. My daughter steps before me. “Mamma, love you,” she says, reaching her arms up for me. I bend down and kiss her tiny lips.

“What’s daddy up to baby?” I ask my fifteen month old daughter.

“Daddy says, tell mummy, loves you and marry you,” she speaks, her words morphing together but I get the picture.

“Go and tell daddy, mummy loves him and yes, always and forever.” I kiss her again and she runs down the aisle to my husband at the end. He leans down and smiles as Melissa tells him what I have said.