Quiver: Watched by Shadows (Quivering Shadows Book 2) (3 page)

A sudden crash rattled the building, causing the book to fall from my hands as the front door came to a close a floor below.

Chapter Four

T
he stout notebook landed with a soft thud on the carpet, and I stood frozen, still as a statue, with my eyes fixed wide open and still grasping the gun in my hand.

Maybe I’d imagined it. It must’ve been the coffee shop next door… but no, they wouldn’t open till morning. Creeping towards Max’s office door, I strained to listen.

I almost cried when I heard heavy footsteps climbing the stairs, accompanied by muffled conversation.

I rushed back to the desk and fiddled to find the switch for the lamp. Darkness fell, and I was blind. I cursed, panicking – I shut the drawer and attempted to find the fallen book in the shadows. I felt the rough carpet tiles beneath my fingers as I stretched them out, but the damned notebook eluded me.

Where the hell was it?

They would be in the main office by now, and thoughts of hiding in the women’s toilets were no longer an option. I had only a matter of moments to hide if indeed their intended destination was Max’s office. Reaching around once more, my fingers finally found the notebook. I shoved it into my bag and whirled in the direction of the storage cupboard, feeling with outstretched hands so I wouldn’t bump into the wall.

I pulled the cupboard door shut and nestled into the corner, careful not to knock into the vacuum cleaner; it’d just be my luck that it’d turn on, screeching to life, alerting them to my presence.

My right hand clenched the gun tight to my chest. My stomach was doing cartwheels, and I wanted to be sick. Why hadn’t I put it back in the drawer?

“Bloody alarm not turned on…” I heard one say. My ears strained to hear, but I resisted getting closer to press my ear to the door.

I urged myself to calm down; I was sure they’d hear me breathing. My legs already felt stiff from the confined position, tucked under myself, but I dared not move.

“Goddammit! I’m going to kill him!” A male voice yelled as a heavy wooden door slammed shut.

“I’ve told him, time and time again, to keep everything locked up, and he can’t even manage that. Useless…” the voice continued. Deep, thick and like a fog horn: always loud.

I recognised the voice and trembled. It was Max’s father, Terry Quadrello, the real boss. The not-so-silent partner who ran things with a clenched iron fist and had his fat fingers buried deep within many small businesses around the city, not just his own. He would be nice as hedgerow pie to all the assistants in the office, but you could tell his bubbling temper was ready to boil over at any moment. Even when the door to Max’s office was shut, we’d occasionally hear his dad bellowing at him, causing us all to go silent.

I had no idea what he would do to me if he found me whimpering in the closet; I clutched the gun.

“Want me to have a word?” a squeaky voice asked.

“Nah, you’ve done enough. I’ll give him a good talking to when I see him,” Terry answered, “Let’s just get what we came for.”

I had visions of them opening the cupboard door and finding me, but their footsteps moved farther away towards the other end of the carpeted office. One of them had turned the lights on, and the cupboard door was outlined in a soft yellow glow.

“Where’s the other one? We need to get rid of them for fuck’s sake!” Terry cried.

“Max probably has it, for protection, what with Eric sniffing around the past few weeks,” the squeaky one replied.

Terry grunted and asked, “Did you take care of him?”

“Oh, yeah. I got one of the lads to sort it. We won’t be seeing his lanky ass anymore,” Squeaky responded. I wondered, could this Eric be the man I’ve been longing for? I doubted it…

“Are you sure?” Terry asked.

“Have I ever let you down?”

“No, you’re a good boy.”

“Well, we tracked him down. Never guess what he was doing?”

A pause.

“Perving on one of your girls! Er, Kate, I think. Max’s bit, you know, the new one; brunette with the baps upfront,” Squeaky chuckled.

“Anyways, Eric’s a goner, having a whale of a time in the North Sea I imagine.”

“So be it… it had to be done,” Terry sighed, “And the girl? Anything we need to worry about?”

“Nah, Max vouched for her.”

I couldn’t believe my ears and pressed my hand to my dry mouth to stop from crying. They were killers, casually talking about the demise of another human being. Eric. My Eric? I prayed that he was not my stranger. Could he really be dead? God, I hoped they would not find me, as I would surely be disposed of just as easily.

The gun handle was slick with sweat from my tightened grip; I doubted I would be able to use it if they threw open the door and found me. I wasn’t a killer. I was just an ordinary filing clerk. Damn Eric!

A tear escaped. I didn’t want to die. How could the most exciting night of my life lead me to this point, trapped in a cupboard scared for my life, re-evaluating the only friendship I’d been able to cling to?

“Where’s the sodding ledger?” Terry continued.

“Check the other drawer.”

“I did, it’s not sodding there.”

“Max must have that with him, too,” Squeaky voice said.

“Can’t trust him with anything. Get on the phone and ask him, will you?”

I winced, coming back to my senses. If they called Max, he’d tell them he didn’t have it with him. They’d start searching, and they’d find me.

“Straight to voice-mail,” Squeaky reported.

Max would soon receive a brutal talking to due to my interference, but if there was ever a time I felt relief, this was topping the all-time charts: Top of the Pops, eat your heart out!

“Sod it, we’ll have to do without it. We need to be at the docks now. We don’t have time for this shit,” Terry said, temper flaring, patience all but extinguished.

I listened and waited. They’d stopped talking. I couldn’t hear what they were doing. Had they heard me?

A switch was pressed, and what little light had bled through the cracks of the doorway was now gone. The slight shuffles of feet diminished, receding as Terry and Squeaky, to my relief walked away.

Resisting the urge to come out of my hiding place, I started to count. I would wait for five minutes before emerging from the cupboard. I don’t think I would’ve been able to move anyway. The fear I felt pulsing around my body held me firmly in place. And I didn’t have the strength to even lift my arms.

All I could think about was Eric… it had to have been him, right? They mentioned him watching me, I was the only Kate working at the Quadrello office, and now he was gone. When had they taken him? When had he looked upon me without me knowing he was there?

Silent tears streaked down my face; he would never touch me again, never stroke my neck or hold me from behind. Weak with grief and stunned with fear, I managed to stand, unstable in the awkward space. I dropped the gun into my bag and reached to open the door to freedom, ready to make a hasty exit.

***

T
he door creaked open and I stumbled out into Max’s office. Pins and needles surged up my legs, protesting my hurried movements.

I shook my legs to get the blood flowing when a tall, looming figure, too skinny to be Terry, burst through the private office door. His breathing was laboured as though he’d just run a couple of marathons back to back.

I screamed and fell as he approached. He was head to toe in black, coming for me. Searching in the bottomless pit of my bag for the gun, I propelled myself backwards. I drove my legs into the floor and pushed myself away, scrambling towards the wall… towards a dead end.

My fingertips grazed the cool steel of the gun, and just as I was about to pull it out, a familiar voice registered in the air.

“Kate, stop. Kate! It’s me!”

I paused, not believing. His face was bruised, battered and broken. He was more purple than pink. Rapidly blinking, I stared into those crystal blue eyes.

“Eric?” I asked, squinting at the person kneeling over me.

He nodded, puzzled. “Smart cookie. Are you OK?”

He was alive! Anger flared and battled against the pleasure rising within me from seeing him again.

I slapped him hard across his swollen cheek, then unceremoniously fell to the floor, fainting.

Chapter Five

I
woke not knowing where I was. The air was musty, and my head lay upon a soft mound, a jacket; it smelled like leather and sweat. Upon opening my eyes, I saw black beams lining the ceiling above; thick blue smoke swirled in the air. All around, a soft green glow bounced off the unfinished walls.

Where the hell was I? Did I hallucinate, or had I truly seen Eric? The man who’d given me so much pleasure but had tangled me up within a dangerous world.

Sitting up, I reached gingerly for the back of my head – I must have knocked it – and I glanced around the room.

At first, all I saw were bright green rectangular tables in the distance, and canopy lights above directed all their concentration onto the felted surfaces below. It was difficult to see anyone around the edges; the contrast was too stark. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could occasionally see grey, shadowy figures moving like ghosts around the illuminated tables. They’d come into sharp focus, full of colour, as they came close to tables to set up a shot. Everything felt so bizarre, and I convinced myself I was still asleep.

The large warehouse-like space was quiet, with only the occasional strike of balls hitting balls and the swoosh of a net as one fell into a pocket. There had to be over twelve snooker tables, arranged in rows of three, in the large area directly in front of me. I sat tucked away in a corner, hidden. My only company was two bare snooker tables cast in darkness.

“You OK, pet?” asked a tubby man, poking his head around the corner. His hair was thinning, and he wore a crumpled white shirt, his suit trousers tight around his torso, causing his beer-belly to spill over.

“Er,” I stammered, not knowing what to say.

“Where did you come from then? Can’t kip here! Club is for members only you know,” he said frowning. He took hold of my elbow, forcing me to stand, and moved me towards the central hall.

A small but fully-stocked bar on the right-hand side entertained a quiet cluster of men who sat on raised stools, huddled together, talking and drinking.

“Does this belong to anyone?” the tubby man bellowed, gesturing to me and still holding onto my elbow. I wanted to pull away and run, but I stayed rooted to the spot.

The chatter died down, and all heads turned in my direction; questioning faces glared at me.

“Aye, man, she’s with me… leave her be. Had a bit too much to drink if you know what I mean,” said the man standing within the bar’s tiny enclosure. He was surrounded by beer pumps and sparkling chrome optic bottle holders, drying glassware with a rag.

My elbow was released, and my face lit up; it was Eric. Under the spotlights I was shocked to see the full extent of the damage to his face. The whole right side bulged with a mixture of sickening violet and yellow bruises – old and new injuries mingling together. His nose looked a little crooked, too, a little more than usual from what I could remember.

He came from behind the bar to my side, his face not showing any sign of emotion.

“You’re awake,” he noted.

“You're alive! How did I get here? I don’t get it, are you a barman now?” I asked, frowning, as he led me back to the concealed corner. The men at the bar went back to supping their drinks.

“Sit. You hit your head pretty hard.”

“I feel fine,” I growled, touching the back of my skull. I could feel the beginning of a lump forming.

“Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

Where did he expect me to go? I had no plan and so did what he asked. Taking a seat, I watched as he sauntered back towards the bar. He had a slight limp that he was trying hard to disguise, but regardless, he was as sexy as ever, and I took pleasure in watching him move. If I had to be honest, his battered state turned me on even more, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him. I’d make him feel better, I mused.