Heller's Revenge (22 page)

“Who was that man with you at
the ceremony? It seems that every time I turn around there’s some
guy with his hands on you.”

I sighed. “He was my client. I
was looking after him for the two weeks I was away.”

“What do you mean ‘looking after
him’? You’re not an escort are you?”

“No! I was his bodyguard.” Will
made the mistake of laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“You? A bodyguard? Looked more
to me like he was wanting to guard your body!”

I sat up and glared at him.
“That’s my job, Will. Looking after people. It’s not a joke. I
disarmed a man who was threatening his life. How do you think I got
these bruises on my face?”

He was smart enough to
immediately realise that he’d made a big mistake. “Tilly . . .”

“I have had the shittiest day
you could possibly imagine. And I don’t need yet another man making
a joke about my job. I’m not a fucking hooker!”

I jumped out of bed and
furiously pulled on my clothes.

“Tilly, please! I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean to insult you,” Will pleaded. I ignored him, grabbed my
shoes and handbag, and stormed out of his house, slamming his front
door behind me. I threw myself into the car and drove off with a
screech of burning rubber. Have I mentioned that I have a real
temper?

I slammed the car door when I
parked back at the Warehouse and stomped loudly up the entire four
flights of stairs. I checked my mobile. Will had left two messages.
I deleted them without listening. I poured myself a very large
glass of wine and sat down on my lounge and flicked on the TV.

There was a knock on my
door.

“Go away!” I yelled out. I
wasn’t in the mood for socialising. Another knock. I ignored it.
Then he just walked in. It was Heller of course. Who else monitored
my every move?

“Why do I even bother having a
door?” I asked him angrily.

“You’re home early. Weren’t you
going to the boyfriend’s house?”

“Mind your own business.”

“Lover’s tiff?”

“I said, mind your own
business.”

“You gave your brother the
photos?”

“Yes.”

“How did he react?”

“
How do you think he
reacted?
” I yelled. He smiled cruelly. “He wants you to know
that you’re a motherfucking prick and that it’s not over, not by a
fucking long shot.” He laughed. “Piss off, Heller. I’m sick of
you!” I shouted at him. “
I hate you!
”

He stared at me for a long
moment, then spun and left, closing the door quietly behind
him.

Chapter 15

My mother rang early the next
morning. She was in tears, almost hysterical.

“Mum, what’s the matter? Is
everything okay?” I asked anxiously, knowing full well what the
matter was.

“No Tilly, everything’s
terrible! Brian and Gayle have separated. He moved out of their
house last night and came back here. He won’t tell me what’s going
on, but I think that she’s had an affair.” Another torrent of
sobbing.

“They’ll sort it out, Mum,” I
said, although I found it hard to muster any level of optimism in
my voice.

“How could she do that to him?
He’s been a good husband and father, and to treat him like that.
You should see him. It would break your heart. He’s so upset.”

I listened to another ten
minutes of the same thing, repeated over and over –
how
could she? I should see him. It’s terrible. What about the
children?
I felt like a lowlife.

After she finally rang off, I
went down to the office with the intense feeling that my life was
rapidly unravelling. It’s difficult to think or work when you’re
furious with both of the important men in your life.

Niq was already at his desk,
quietly completing his schoolwork. I smiled at him, sat at my desk
and watched him fondly as he chewed on his pencil and scratched his
head over a maths problem.

“Hey sweetie, remember I
promised to take you shopping when my job with Clarrie was
finished? And we were going to spend all of Heller’s money?”

He looked up and nodded
eagerly.

“If you put in a good morning’s
work, how about we go this afternoon?”

“That would be great, Tilly!
Thanks.” He returned to his books with renewed enthusiasm.

Daniel walked in and I smiled at
him. Heller followed soon afterwards and I pointedly ignored him.
But he was probably getting used to that by now and it didn’t seem
to bother him.

I spent the morning finishing my
report on my two weeks with Clarrie so that Daniel could finalise
the account. Clarrie had already paid a hefty amount for my
services, but there were always incidentals to settle after a job
finished, including the unexpected cost of the six men who’d
attended the awards ceremony. I dropped my signed report on his
desk and went upstairs to make Niq some lunch. We ate it
unhurriedly, before moseying down to the garage. I grabbed the keys
to the little hatchback that Heller let me drive.

We had a lot of fun together at
the shopping centre. Niq bought some t-shirts and a pair of jeans.
He also bought some CDs, DVDs and books, even though he usually
purchased most of those things electronically. The kid loved to
shop.

I only purchased a few
unimportant things that Heller didn’t supply, including more
concealing makeup and some female hygiene products. I’m sure he
would supply me with those too if I asked, but he didn’t think of
it and I was too embarrassed to actually face him and ask. So I
bought them for myself. I didn’t mind – after all he provided me
with everything else.

We stopped for a coffee and a
milkshake at a small cafe and chatted about his schoolwork, the
Warehouse and life in general. We discussed Heller and Niq admitted
that he thought of him like a father.

He looked at me shyly, his eyes
peeping up at me through his black fringe. “I sort of like to think
of you as my mum, Tilly.”

I was extraordinarily touched.
“Oh Niq. That’s one of the loveliest things anyone has ever said to
me,” I replied, suddenly emotional. “I don’t think I’d be a very
good mother to anybody, but if I ever was one, you are exactly the
kind of son I’d want.”

We smiled affectionately at each
other and finished our drinks. Heading back to the car, I kept my
eye out for trouble. Last time we’d been at this shopping centre,
we’d been hassled by a gang of losers and I hadn’t handled it well.
After that episode, Heller had threatened me with not being allowed
to take Niq out anymore if I led him into danger again. I never
wanted that to happen and so was now extra vigilant.

I helped Niq carry his
purchases, as there were far too many bags for him to manage by
himself. We flung them in the hatchback of the car and made our way
out of the carpark. I drove for a few minutes, Niq and I singing
along loudly to a My Chemical Romance CD, when on checking the rear
view mirror, I noticed a black sedan following close behind us. It
didn’t look like an ordinary suburban car with its dark tinted
windows and its licence plate that merely read ‘SS-6’. I thought it
was slightly menacing in appearance. I couldn’t see who was driving
or how many people the vehicle contained because of those tinted
windows.

Warning myself not to be so
paranoid, I pushed it out of my mind for a minute, concentrating
instead on navigating us through a congested, multi-lane,
dog-eat-dog roundabout. I had to move into the right lane from the
left lane and then had to battle oncoming traffic to make the third
exit, a smaller, less-known road to the freeway. It was a manoeuvre
that required primitive aggression, blatant disregard of every
other driver’s needs and sheer gall to attempt. In other words, it
was a normal traffic situation for this city. I was only flipped
off once while I performed this tricky move and that was probably a
record. Before too long, we were finally on the small road,
speeding towards the freeway for more city-driving fun.

I checked the rear view mirror
again and was jolted to see the black sedan still behind us. It
wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that I wasn’t the only
person in this city of four million inhabitants who knew of that
little shortcut to the freeway. But on the other hand, maybe it
was.

On the spur of the moment,
without indicating, I turned left into a side street. The car
behind followed us, its tyres screeching slightly as it made the
unexpected turn. I then made a few further unpredictable turns, not
indicating at any time, and was disconcerted when I noticed that
the sedan kept following, even though I had virtually travelled
around three blocks back to the same street I had initially been
travelling on towards the freeway. It couldn’t be a
coincidence.

“Niq sweetie, I don’t want to
alarm you, but there’s a black sedan behind us and it looks as
though it’s following us. It’s been behind us since the shopping
centre. Look casually into the side mirror. Can you see it?” He
looked and then nodded. “Ring Heller, please.”

Niq took his phone out of his
pocket, eyes wide in his face with apprehension, and rang
Heller.

“Put him on speaker phone,
please sweetie.”

“What’s up, Matilda?”

My growing anxiety made me
forget how angry I was with him.

“Heller, there’s a black sedan,
a Toyota I think, tinted windows, number plate SS dash 6. It’s been
following us since the shopping centre. I just took a detour right
around a couple of blocks, doubling up on myself and it stayed with
us the whole way. It’s definitely following us. We’re still about
twenty minutes from home.”

He took me seriously and his
voice was tense and grave when he spoke, which made me even more
nervous. “I’m deploying some men immediately. Don’t stop under any
circumstances. Keep driving. Stay on the main roads. I can track
your vehicle from here.” A pause. “Please take care, my sweet.”

I tried not to worry, knowing
that some backup was coming, but it was unsettling to know that
someone was following you and not knowing who or why. I briefly
wondered if they’d followed us to the shopping centre as well. I
hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary on the trip there or
while we were shopping. But then I hadn’t really been paying any
attention either.

“They’re still there, Tilly,”
worried Niq, checking his side mirror.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” I soothed.
“Heller is sending some men right now. They’ll be with us soon.
You’ll be back home showing Daniel the things you bought before you
know it.”

I merged onto the freeway and
for once I didn’t mind the heavy traffic. It made me feel safer
travelling with the crowd. I wished my whole trip was on the
freeway, but we had to exit after five minutes to follow our route
home. The sedan exited also, trailing us. I sped up a bit, trying
to put some distance between us. It sped up as well. My eyes darted
between the rear view mirror and the windscreen.

“Keep a look out for our guys,”
I asked Niq. “They should be here any second.”

I zipped down a minor arterial
road, not caring if I was pulled over for speeding. That would be
absolutely perfect as far as I was concerned. I would have welcomed
the sight of flashing blue and red lights at that point in time,
and would have gladly paid the fine with a dazzling smile.
Unfortunately though, we hit one of those bizarre patches where
there was no traffic around. The street was deserted, both sides of
the road. I glanced in the rear view mirror and noticed an arm
appearing out of the front passenger window.

“
Niq!
” I screamed,
leaning over to push unkindly on his head. “Get down, now!” He
ducked low in his seat just as a bullet shattered the back window.
I sped up even faster, my speed moving into the reckless section of
the speedometer.

The next shot almost made me
lose control, smashing through the car into the rear view mirror.
The exploding glass caused me to involuntarily jerk the steering
wheel in fright, and the car swerved dangerously close to the curb
before I was able to regain control. I searched desperately for a
side street, but the road was a long straight arterial between two
major suburbs, surrounded by scrub, with no deviations and no
houses anywhere close. I sank low in my seat, but that only made it
even more difficult for me to steer, especially at high speed. I
weaved the car unpredictably to make it harder to aim at us, but
decided that was making the trip even more treacherous for us
both.

I felt the third bullet whiz
past my head. It shattered the windscreen. I couldn’t see out. I
tried to do what I’d seen Heller do once and punch out the broken
glass with my fist, but I only managed to make a small opening. I
couldn’t see enough of the road to drive safely at the speed I was
going.

“Niq! Help me!” I shouted and he
frantically began to pound on the shattered glass as well, trying
to create an opening. But the fourth bullet caught Niq in the hand
he had raised to punch the windscreen and he screamed in agony at
the pain, blood splattering the interior of the car. He began to
cry with fear and shock, our faces speckled with his blood.

“It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay,
sweetie. It’s okay, sweetie,” I chanted in sobbing panic, my hands
slick with nervous sweat on the steering wheel. Niq whimpered in
pain, huddled into the corner of his seat. I wanted to reach over
to console him, but I needed both hands on the steering wheel if we
were going to get through this alive.

I managed to continue to punch
at the windscreen, my fist running with blood, until there was a
larger space cleared. But I knew desperately there was nothing else
I could do except stop the car or I’d end up killing the both of
us. I stepped on the brakes slowly, steering the car as best I
could through the hole in the windscreen. The car slowed down and
the black sedan gained on us.