Screw you too, p.17
Screw you too!, page 17
“Maybe she was smart enough to step over the blood spatter?”
“I imagine that axe got stuck in places,” I scoff. “I’ve helped Craig break down some old furniture and even then, I had to kick off some pieces to dislodge the axe. Where are those footprints? What was her motive?”
“She was his partner; it was assumed that it was a domestic dispute gone wrong.”
“For this much rage? That want to be some dispute.”
Nick groans, covers his mouth and looks about ready to cry, “they got the wrong person for this, didn’t they.”
“By the look of it, yes,” I hold up the crime scene photos. “How did she even get convicted?”
“Eyewitnesses,” Nick drinks half of his mug of coffee in one desperate gulp, “three of them.”
“This happened at night, right?” My focus is on the files again, I flip page after page until I get to the eyewitness statements.
“Between ten-thirty and eleven.”
“It says here that this witness is a known crackhead, how reliable.” I look through all three statements, each one is less dependable than the last. “How long has this poor girl served?”
“Five years.”
“Fuckin hell, Nick!”
“I didn’t put her there!”
This is… disgusting. It’s disgusting. I’m ranting to Tiffy about this later on because someone needs to work on getting this girl out. “Joe obviously thinks that she’s innocent or he wouldn’t have asked for your help.”
“It’s proving her innocence that’s the problem. If they slapped her away on circumstantial evidence, we would need something solid to bring to the table.”
Again, Tiffy comes to mind. Her father is a high-ranking judge. We could have more leeway with Charles than anyone else. Then I get another thought that makes my stomach churn, “if someone is setting her up to take the fall then Joe will not get close enough to prove her innocent, unless—”
Nick nods, “I can get her out into protective custody. But I need a reason. I can’t just sign anyone out.”
“What’s that you got there?” I point to an unopened file on the edge of the table.
“One of Tommy’s friends bit the big one, much like Tommy, it was… vicious.”
“And Éabha knew this guy?” Nick nods in response, finally, we’re getting somewhere. “Use that. Say she has information on him, and you need to transfer her or get her temporarily released into your custody.”
“If she is being set up,” Nick glances out the window into the back garden to see the kids playing in the back garden. “This is going to be dangerous. Someone in power has obvious pull here.”
“You’re worried for Joe.”
“If he digs and gets on the wrong end of this—”
“I get it, I do,” reaching for my cup I take my first mouthful of warm frothy coffee.
“How’s Craig?” Nick asks, he looks like he could use a distraction right about now.
“He’s good, well, as good as he can be… he’s trying.”
“Yeah, he seemed a little off the other day.”
“He won’t see the doctor, but he agreed to see a counsellor and talk to someone about everything that’s going on. Sometimes it helps to talk to a stranger rather than those closest to you.”
“He’s lucky to have you.”
“Wow,” I almost choke. “Can I have that in writing?”
A teasing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Nick scrubs his face in his hands and begins to tidy up the paperwork.
“Nick?”
“Yeah?”
“Just be careful. I know Joe is a friend and I understand wanting to help, but you have Abbie and Maddie to think of. If this is what we think it is, tread carefully.” I will not cry. I will not cry, I’m a very tired woman with a severe case of writer’s block. That is all. Nick is fine. Craig is fine. Everything will be ok.
“I will.”
I reach for his hand, “promise me.”
Nick looks me over, his tired eyes softening as he gifts me a smile that reminds me of dad, “Lottie, I’ll be careful. I swear it.”
My phone buzzes, I look down and see Craig’s name flash on my screen. “Hey, handsome.”
“Hey, baby!”
“You sound perky, I take it that everything went well?”
“Yeah,” I hear the car unlock and Craig opening the door to climb in. “I feel a lot better after talking about it, surprisingly.”
“That’s good to hear!”
The engine starts up, followed by Craig asking, “are you home?”
“No, we’re at Nick’s.”
“I’ll drop over if you’re going to be there a while?”
“Sure thing. I’ve yet to give Maddie a cuddle.”
“Is Ellie hijacking her again?” he chuckles, his voice is a bit more muffled now, I must be on Bluetooth.
“Wouldn’t you know it,” I roll my eyes to the heavens.
“Ok, I’ll be there in about half an hour.”
“Ok, see you then. Love you.”
“Love you too, my little Ivy goddess!”
I snort, hang up the phone and catch Nick eyeing me suspiciously. “Craig?”
“Yep.”
“I’m ordering out. There is no way that I’m cooking for this mob.”
I laugh and watch him leave the room to make the call for food. Downing my coffee, I take the cup to the sink and rinse it out before going out to Abbie for some girl time.
CRAIG
Falling back against the cushions, I’m still seeing stars. My legs are all tingly. There is no way that I’m walking for at least ten minutes after that.
I’ve no idea what I did to deserve that welcome home but I want to do it again.
My wife can suck like a Dyson.
“There is something I want to speak to you about,” Lottie kneels beside me, pushing her chest out and worrying her lip.
Oh no!
She lured me into a false sense of security with oral and now I can’t fucking move!
Shit, what did I break?
Whom did I offend now?
I gulp, “what about?”
“I was speaking to Abbie today,” she starts.
We’re on babysitting duty, aren’t we? Four kids in one house, bollocks.
I only got this blow because two of ours are outside playing while Satan has a nap.
“Yeah?”
“You know she and Nick had a lot of trouble conceiving. Maddie is a miracle baby.”
“I remember.”
Do they want one of ours? I’ll give them Satan… part-time. Life wouldn’t be the same without her Bulldogs charging my bollocks at least once a week.
“Abbie wants another,” Lottie continues.
“They need money for IVF?”
“Not exactly.”
“Adoption?”
“Is an option.”
I push myself onto my forearms and demand, “what aren’t you telling me?”
“Abbie wants another baby,” Lottie repeats. “And I offered to be her surrogate.”
Wow, I did not see that coming. “Huh?”
“Craig?”
“You want to have another baby?”
“Not for us, three is enough.”
“Thank God for that,” I fall back against the cushions once again.
“It would be Abbie and Nick’s baby. I’ll just be the oven.”
I think it over. I’m not surprised Lottie jumped at the chance to help, she’s impulsive like that. “I think it’s an amazing thing that you want to do for them—”
“But?” Lottie presses.
“Are you sure that’s what you really want to do?” I sit up again, pulling her onto my lap. “I mean, think about it. Nausea, heartburn, birth… plus,” it’s my turn to chew the hell out of my lower lip. “Baby, you suffered from postpartum depression and anxiety after having our three. I just want to make sure that you know what you’re signing up for.”
Lottie smiles, putting her silver lining spin on it that she always does, “I know, but it will be worth it.”
“If that’s what you want to do then I’m behind you 100%.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Only Lottie could be so selfless. I’ve no idea where I got her from. I witnessed all three births and I can safely say I would not be signing up to go through that for someone else.
She’s on me, her lips fusing with mine. I pull her closer, deepening the kiss.
“I awake!” Tilly calls from her room.
“I can’t move.”
Lottie wiggles off my lap, “fix yourself before she charges in here.” She smirks and steps from the room.
The effort. I assume tucking myself back in is the equivalent of Lottie putting on a bra. I couldn’t be arsed.
But needs must.
I hear Tilly sing from her bedroom, “M.I.C.K.E.Y M.O.U.S.E.”
Stupid fucking mouse. At least she can spell that if nothing else.
“Daddy!” she sprints into the hallway.
“Yes, Satan?”
“Where’s my sippy?”
“Ask your mother.”
“I asking you.”
Cheeky little—
“Craig,” Lottie calls.
“Yeah?”
“Nick is on the phone!”
I hurry downstairs and grab my phone off Lottie while she sorts Satan out with a drink. “Hello?”
“I need a favour.”
Like what? You’re already getting my wife pregnant! “What’s up?”
“Remember Joe?”
“Hot Joe from your wedding?”
Nick chuckles lowly “that name stuck, huh?”
“Well, they’re not wrong. I mean, he’s not exactly my type but if I decided to swing that way, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for farting.”
“Big spoon or little spoon?”
“Switch. I’ll take it both ways,” I snort, watching Lottie look at me like I’ve finally lost my reason.
“You can stop now,” Nick is still laughing.
“Sometimes a guy just wants a cuddle.”
“Right now I need you to fight.”
“Fight?” I echo. Lottie stops dead in her tracks; she’s making a beeline for me so I do the only thing I can think of. I run away.
“Well… teach someone else how to fight,” Nick mumbles. He’s obviously trying to keep Abbie from overhearing this conversation.
“This is about the girl.”
“There’s been a big drug bust. A lot of people are pissed off. Joe says she’s very jittery. PTSD most likely from all the shite she’s been put through.”
“You want me to show her how to defend herself.”
“Yeah.”
“Why not Jason?”
“He’s helping me with something else.”
“Which would be?”
“Classified.”
“Oh, don’t go pulling rank on me now!”
“I can’t talk about it.”
Which means it’s most likely illegal. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”
“Don’t act pissy.”
“Who’s being pissy?”
“You’re annoyed because I’m not telling you.”
“Nope, I’m just thinking of how I’m going to violate your sister later,” I turn around to spot Lottie staring at me from the adjoining room. “I’m thinking double penetration—hello?”
Who’s being pissy now? I’m not the one who hung up the phone.
Lottie’s folding clothes and getting ready to bring them upstairs.
“I might be leaving soon,” I mumble.
“Where are you going?”
“Erm, self-defence classes.”
“Nick asked you to help Éabha?” her hands slam down on her hips. My unzipped, oversized hoodie hits the top of her thighs. She looks sexy as hell right now, just my hoodie, and a sports bra and a pair of sinfully tight shorts. Her eyebrow raises, daring me to argue with her.
“Yeah.”
“Be careful!”
“I will be.”
Her eyes narrow as her gaze travels over the hard contours of my face. “Craig, I’m serious!”
“Lottie, baby, calm down. I’ll be fine.”
Her jaw clamps tight, and she practically growls out, “ring me when you get there.”
“I will.”
Her chin tips back as she peers up at me over her lashes, “and when you’re leaving.”
“I will!”
“Check your mirrors!”
“Babe! No one knows where she is, ok. Calm down,” Nick just transferred her out of prison to a safehouse, if anyone looks into it, it looks like Éabha’s been moved to another prison. Lottie walks to the bookshelf in our room and starts packing books into a bag. “What are you doing?”
“She likes to read. I’d say she will run out of material soon. Give her these.”
“Hey,” I grab her shoulders and make her look at me. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” her lower lip wobbles. It breaks my heart to see her this anxious.
“It’s ok, doll. Everything will be ok,” my arms circle around her waist, pulling her against me. My lips fuse with hers in a gentle caress. When I pull back, she offers me a woeful smile. Looking over my shoulder, I call out, “come on, Satan!”
“You’re bringing Tilly!” Lottie is pulled from her anxiety and instead, looks about ready to throttle me.
“Yeah, if anyone starts, she’ll knock the bollocks off them.”
CRAIG
Dean is on the warpath when Jason and Tiffy arrive. “No! Where do you get off in telling me my son needs a specialist school? Where is your qualification to make that assessment? Oh, you’re just saying. Well, I’m just saying Alex is well able to stay in your school. We’ve been told you wouldn’t even know he’s there half the time. He’s not the only child to disrupt a class! You know what? I’ll take this up with the board of education! Because you’re discriminating against my son because he’s different! Oh yes, you fucking are! I hope you have full pockets because when I take this to court, you’ll be paying out the nose!” Dean hangs up and then scrolls through the phone. “Shit, did you see this?” He points the phone at me.
A video of a black Honda Civic tearing rubber all over the city centre last night.
“Gangland thing most likely,” Dean mumbles as I watch the car dart from one lane to another. “I’d drive that fast too if someone was trying to fill my ass full of led.”
The car skids around corners and masterfully dodges incoming traffic. No wonder Joe was as white as a sheet when they got back last night.
Tiffy bounds into the room and turns on the TV so we’re all watching the Civic tear arse towards oncoming traffic. “Did you guys see that bloody lunatic?”
I’d love to point out that that lunatic she is referring to is her husband, but Tiffy doesn’t know he helped us last night. She knows about his past but I’m pretty sure she thinks the street racing he was referring to is more Grease Lightning when in reality it was more Fast and Furious.
I’ve been in the car with Jay when he used to race. It’s fucking terrifying. I’d lose my lunch quicker in the car with him than on the waltzers at Funderland.
“I’ll give it to the driver, nerves of steel. I wouldn’t be able to do that shit, I’d total the car,” Dean admits.
“Apparently the car was found burnt out near the N7,” Tiffy adds.
Someone’s going to claim big on their insurance.
Jay… commandeered another car, so it couldn’t be traced back to him should anyone go searching. The owner would have reported it stolen and cashed in when it was found in flames.
Jay steps into the room with James in his arms, “what are we talking about?”
“Apparently some lunatic robbed a car and turned the city centre into his own private racecourse,” I smirk up at the TV.
Tiffy turns on me, eyebrow quirked, “How do you know it was a he? It could have been a woman?”
Jay snorts.
“What? You don’t think a woman could drive like that?” Tiffy presses.
“I never debated it. So, I take it they never caught the guy,” Jason feigns ignorance as he kisses Tiffy on the cheek.
They wouldn’t, would they?
Jay was never fucking caught.
Ever.
Try as they might, Jay always outran them.
“Nope,” I smirk. “Got away Scot free.”
Jay grins smugly and offers an oat bar to James who happily takes it and darts into the sitting room.
Tiffy is still ranting, “dragged up little toe rags.”
“Hey!”
“You had the sense to give that shit up!”
I snort into my mug of coffee; Jay gives me the death stare. I could seriously hang him by the bollocks right now.
Kind of tempted.
“Where’s Jamie?” I ask.
“With my dad,” Tiffy declares.
“Ah.”
“What are you doing here?” Jason asks, turning to Dean.
“Tailing him, method acting and all that jazz.”
“And emptying out my presses while he’s at it,” I add.
“Lottie?” Tiffy asks.
“On her back with her legs in the air.”
“I’m sorry?”
“At the clinic getting checked out for the surrogacy thing,” Dean clarifies.
“Just use a turkey baster, same result,” Jason adds.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty.”
“You’re lucky I love brats.”
My phone flashes and Jessica’s name pops up, “hey.”
“Hey! The guy here is finished, well mostly. Do you mind coming by and fitting those last parts for me now?”
“Is he there?”
“No. I promise you that.”
“Ok then, yeah. I’ll swing by with Jay and fit that for you.”
“Thanks, bro!”
That still takes some getting used to.
I arrive at Jessica’s with Jay and Dean. Safe to say, Jessica is only too happy to have Dean land on her doorstep. She turns all fan girl on him and is practically swooning.
Dean doesn’t seem to mind though, I guess he’s used to the attention now. He happily poses for pictures and signs some shit for her while I finish fitting the cabinets.
