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‘Only a little.’
Moving to the sink, I washed my hands thoroughly to remove any remnants that might cling to my skin. ‘Who are they for?’
‘Mick Johns.’
‘Harriet!’ I said, exasperation filling my voice. ‘He’s an MP, you can’t poison him.’
‘All the more reason. He was abusing his wife. He deserves it.’
‘They’ll suspect her, you’ll put her in more danger.’
Harriet’s eyes narrowed. ‘They can’t. She’s dead. He killed her, and it’s being swept under the rug because of who he is.’
The muscles in my jaw tightened at her words. ‘How do you know?’
‘The coroner is a friend of Nancy’s. He told her that the wife came to him in a hell of a state. Bruised. Broken. He wasn’t the one assigned to her, but he helped with her autopsy. He’s sick of seeing people turning a blind eye.’
‘So, you’re just going to walk up and give him muffins? He’d be an idiot to accept them.’
Harriet placed the muffin tin into the oven, and turned to face me, a wicked smile stealing over her face. ‘It’s his birthday tomorrow. One of his buddies is sending him a pretty escort to play with, to cheer him up after his wife’s death. Just so happens that we’ve intercepted that request, and we will be sending one of our own women in her stead.’
‘What if he hurts her?’
‘He won’t get the chance. His buddy ordered the muffins to contain something to give his friend an extra boost. From what I hear, he’s struggling more these days in that department. It’s a shame he wasn’t more specific.’
My beautiful terror. Dissuading her would be impossible. Vengeance was what she lived for. Hers, and for all the people who couldn’t seek it.
I only wished I could find a way through her granite exterior and give her more reason to live. To make her happy.
‘So, what’s the plan with Alfie?’
Harriet leaned back against the oven, her tongue briefly sweeping her lower lip in a way that made me want to go trace its path with my own. ‘We make our little caged bird sing.’
‘How?’
‘Everyone has a weakness, we just need to find the right one to exploit. I doubt money will work; he has plenty of that. Pain, perhaps. Threaten the people he loves. We’ll find the crack and prise it open until he gives us the information we need.’
I folded my arms over my chest, watching her thoroughly clean the mixing bowl and spoon before putting it into a bin bag. Another one for the incinerator.
Letting my thoughts wander, I pictured us in a different life. In a proper home, not stuck below ground living as society’s rejects. Being able to come into a room and sweep her into my arms. For the muffins to be edible. To have her all to myself without our crushing pasts. Would finally getting revenge on the right people allow her to accept kindness and love? I had it oozing from every pore, and it was all for her.
But she didn’t want it.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
FIVE
ALFIE
A deep heaviness tugged at my wrist as I tried to roll over. Cold seeped into my back, the skin feeling like I’d been lying on ice.
‘What the hell?’ I mumbled, forcing my aching eyes open.
The ceiling above wasn’t the one at the McGowan mansion, nor my room at home. Curved dark metal met at an apex above me, my eyes taking in the riveted edges. Following the edge of the wall downwards brought my eyes to a series of floor-to-ceiling bars. Bars which separated me from a decadently furnished room. The large, green leather sofas wouldn’t have looked out of place in my hedonistic castle. What were they doing in whatever this place was? A groan escaped as I pulled myself to sitting, taking in the thick metal bands that were locked about my wrists and ankles. Chains snaked away from me before disappearing into the floor. Lifting my arms was a workout in itself with the weight of the thick metal bonds.
Waking up nearly naked and in chains wasn’t exactly unusual for me, but it usually came with a night of decadent fun. All I had were chilled bones, a thumping head and confusion.
