She handed it over to him.
He turned the beginning of a scowl into a smile of acceptance and reluctantly took the suit. ‘Then we go — and fuck,’ he said. And you give me plenty money.
Her eyes sparkled. ‘Yes, darling.’
Munrow went back into the fitting room and reversed into a cubicle, drawing the curtain behind him.
He tugged the jacket off and dropped it deliberately onto the floor in a little display of petulance. He unzipped his trousers and let them slither down his legs and kicked them off over his shoes.
The curtain was yanked back.
He was about to tell whoever it was to fuck off out of it and maybe give the bastard a push in the chest for invading his privacy, but he didn’t get the opportunity to do either.
‘ No John,’ he gasped instead, terrified. He stepped backwards against the wall and raised his hands defensively. ‘No, don’t.’
They were the last words he spoke.
The gun in John Rider’s hand roared twice and deafeningly in the confined space of Debenhams men’s fitting rooms.
The first of the. 357-calibre bullets left the barrel of the revolver and flashed its short way through the air, entering Munrow’s face by way of his top lip, blowing a huge hole below his nose, destroying the upper set of teeth, tearing through the back of his throat and exiting through the base of his skull.
The next one whacked into his cranium, above and to the right of his left eye. This one did not exit, but remained inside the skull, ripping his brain to shreds with the glee of an angry bull in Debenhams China shop.
Rider was gone before Munrow’s twitching body shimmied to the floor. A mass of blood, deep red, almost black blood, full of oxygen, and particles of bone were smeared down the cubicle wall. A fine haze of pink spray hung in the air, mixing with the smoke from the gun.
His new suits were ruined.
Chapter Eighteen
Henry was never completely sure how it started. He didn’t think he was responsible, nor did he think he did anything to further it. There was a blur, then he found himself almost at the point of no return before his senses clicked into gear.
Siobhan drove from Lancaster, all the way to the NWOCS offices in King Street. It was a fairly uncomfortable journey in the high-seated Transit but Henry, well strapped in, dozed off quickly. His head rolled and jerked with the motion of the van and his partly opened mouth allowed spittle to dribble down his chin and jacket. He was away with the fairies and would have been no use in an emergency.
Before he knew it, they were in Blackburn, pulling into the secure yard.
Siobhan parked in one corner whilst Henry shook himself into wakefulness and rubbed the dried saliva from his face with a sheepish glint at Siobhan to see if she had noticed. She had.
‘ Ole sleepy head,’ she said with a soft chuckle.
He had a painful crick in his neck from his sleeping position and a heavy sensation behind his eyelids, as if grains of sand had been surgically implanted. His eyes were gritty and sore, his chest was throbbing and his ear screaming.
He was not in good shape.
Siobhan unbuckled her seat belt and dropped lightly out of the van. Henry duly followed suit. His movements were like an old man’s. His injuries had tightened him up and the pain in his chest on moving was initially like a heart attack until he straightened up. He was also beginning to appreciate how hard Anderson had punched him in the face during their fight.
A couple of minutes later, having negotiated the alarm system, they entered the deserted offices and signed their guns and equipment back in. Henry was switched on enough to see that Morton had not countersigned the firearms log-sheet. Siobhan told him not to worry. It was something that often happened. He would do it later.
Henry was holding his bulletproof vest in his hand. He proffered it to Siobhan, who was holding hers.
‘ Come on, I’ll show you where we keep stuff like this.’
‘ I thought the other team would be on duty,’ Henry remarked.
Siobhan just shrugged.
They went back downstairs and walked across the car park to a door to the right of the garage doors. She keyed in a number on the pad and opened it. They entered a small vestibule. The main garage was through a door to the left. A staircase was dead ahead. Siobhan went straight up in front of Henry. He glanced into the garage which housed three saloon cars. He assumed they belonged to the unit. Then he was right behind her, with her compact bum at his face level, her flesh packed into the tight jeans she’d been wearing all day. Henry attempted not to notice. And failed.
Upstairs there were two offices. The larger was a store-room-cum-equipment room with shelving and large metal cabinets lining the walls. An old settee and table were also in the room, probably remnants from previous occupants, Henry guessed.
Siobhan unlocked one of the cabinets and hung up the body armour. Henry stifled a yawn.
‘ Am I boring you?’
‘ Far from it.’
A wave of deja vu skittered through him as once again he found himself within inches of her face. Inexplicably he became weak and open for offers.
‘ Henry,’ she said hesitantly, ‘I was terrified today — when Anderson opened up and Dave got shot right next to me. I thought I’d be next.’ The words tumbled out, becoming increasingly shaky. ‘I’ve never experienced anything like that. It happened so fast, too. I mean, suddenly I was on the ground and Anderson was firing. It was all so unreal, yet so utterly frightening. I can’t find the words to describe it.’
‘ I know.’
‘ You’ve been through it before.’
‘ Doesn’t get any easier. I was frightened too. There’s nothing wrong admitting it. If you bottle it up, it’ll do your head in.’
‘ Henry.’
‘ Yes?’
‘ Will you hold me? I need some… comfort. I feel all dithery.’
He nodded.
She fell into him, crushing herself against his chest. Very painful for him, actually. He steeled himself and took it like a man, without complaint. Her breasts pushed up against him and her warm body clung desperately to him, wanting to find some reassurance from him that she was safe now. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, his arms wrapping around her shoulders and gently squeezing.
He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Probably only seconds. Then he became aware that she was looking up at him. She drew back slightly and said, ‘That was nice, Henry. I needed that.’
‘ So did I.’
‘ And I still want to kiss you.’
There was a pause between them when time stood still. And from that moment on, things became very mixed-up and confused for Henry.
He lowered his head, she went up onto her toes, and their lips came into soft contact. An electric shock pulsated through him. Initially they tentatively explored each other’s lips. Then their mouths forced themselves hard onto each other. Hard and passionate. A whimper of pleasure escaped from somewhere deep inside Siobhan’s throat. Her tongue slithered into his mouth. He took it. Bit it. Bit her lips. Sinking his teeth firmly into the soft wet flesh, driving her into a frenzy.
Her fingers gripped his hair. He grew hard quickly. She felt it and responded by spreading her legs around his thighs and grinding herself urgently against him. Her breath came in short pants. Through the denim of her jeans Henry could feel the pulsating heat of her sex.
She threw her head back and Henry’s mouth moved down to her beautiful throat, where he could see her jugular throbbing wildly.
She forced his jacket off his shoulders. He drew his arms out of the sleeves. The garment dropped to the floor with a sigh of air. Her fingers went to his shirt, fumbling impatiently with the buttons, eventually ripping the last one off. She tugged the shirt out of his jeans and her face went to his injured chest. She softly licked the deep purple bruising over his breastbone and she unbuckled his belt.