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I kiss her hard, not caring that she can scarcely breathe. All I care about is marking her like a caveman because this wee liar, this wee thief is mine…mine…mine.
She loops her arms around my neck, moaning into my mouth as we tease one another, fighting for dominance. She suckles my lip ring, tugging hard with her teeth, before sweeping her tongue along my bottom lip.
Her aggression is what I need, what I want, and I lift her, coaxing her to wrap her legs around my waist. She does, and when her pussy presses against me, memories of when it was last in my mouth, on my tongue assault me, and I almost lose it right where I stand.
But I can’t. This is just a taste of what’s to come.
Severing our kiss roughly, I’m pleased to see her breathless and writhing in need. Even though she is a liar, and I can’t trust a word that comes out of her mouth, I can trust her body’s response to me. And I plan on exploiting that to get the truth.
“A’ll be seein’ ye awful soon, wee doll.”
“What are you going to do?”
“The only thing I can do. I need to find my uncle Sean.”
“And you trust him?”
With bitter conviction, I confess, “He’s the only person I trust.”
Her eyes narrow, and her worry is replaced with anger, for she knows what I do; her confession has done nothing to pardon her betrayal. Leaving her against the wall, I run inside, on the hunt for the only person who can help me.
Uncle Sean.
To my knowledge, we don’t leave any gear at home, in case something like this happens. But because this has never happened before, I’m worried it’s made Connor complacent. He’s already a cocky bastard, and the two are not a winning combination.
I see Uncle Sean talking to a pretty woman, but it’ll have to wait. The moment he sees me, I gesture with my head that we’re to talk in private. He senses the urgency and is over within seconds.
“Don’t ask me how I know, but we’re about to be raided.”
“Are ye havin’ a laugh?” he asks, but when he sees I’m far from laughing, he curses and runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
He storms away, but I quickly follow because from his response, it’s clear if we get raided, we’re all going down. He takes the stairs two at a time, profanity spilling from him, and when he kicks open Connor’s door, I understand why.
“How could he do this?” he mutters under his breath, fuming at Connor.
Uncle Sean pushes aside the wooden blanket box, and when I see a hole cut into the carpet to make room for a safe, I know things are about to turn to shite. He drops to his knees, punches in a code into an electric panel, and when the door pops open, Uncle Sean shakes his head.
He frantically pulls out brick after brick of white gear. “Flush it!” he orders me while I stand still, unbelieving what I’m seeing. “Punky!”
His scream wakes me the fuck up.
I grab as many bricks as I can and leg it to the en suite, hunting through the drawers for scissors. What I find is Connor’s comb, which I slip into my pocket. When I see Fiona’s silver nail file, I snare it off the vanity. Flipping open the toilet lid, I stab the nail file into a brick and drag it downward, splitting open the plastic.
Tearing apart the seams, I desperately empty the packet into the toilet. Once it’s gone, I do the same to another brick and then another until I’m done. As I enter the bedroom and see another fifteen bricks, I shake my head.
“Why does the aul’ lad have this?” I shout, ragin’ that he could be so stupid.
Uncle Sean doesn’t answer me. Instead, he gathers as many bricks as he can, and I do the same. As we’re in the bathroom, frenziedly flushing the gear, we hear shrieks erupt from downstairs.
She was right. The peelers are here.
“Cub, burn the packets,” he orders, gesturing to the bathtub.
I collect all the empty packets which still have traces of drugs inside. Although the gear is gone, this is still evidence. We need all of it gone.
Throwing everything into the tub, I reach for the pack of matches and light one, tossing it onto the plastic. It sets alight instantly, a wee boney. Uncle Sean continues passing me things to burn. I cannot believe Connor could be this stupid.
“How’d ya know?” Uncle Sean asks between flushes. “Who the fuck tipped the peelers off?”
