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Who was Jack Hughes?
Why was Jack Hughes so damn fucking important?
The questions danced around her mind as she watched him. All ultimately answered by the same answer on another twisted thought. Destroy Jack Hughes to destroy The Wolf.
**********
Sarah McAllister's body ached in excruciating pain.
Bent double into the thick wooden beam which dissected in two by a hinge. He made her place herself into the device he'd called a Pillory, which now locked across the back of her neck and wrists, trapping her.
His right hand wrapped around the ponytail she'd scraped her hair back into, he snapped her head back against the thick wooden beam, his left hand clamped down with his fingers digging into her left shoulder.
Grimacing, tears in her eyes as she felt his dick slamming hard into her. Short of breath, riddled with pain, semi naked her body coated in sweat.
Her skirt forced up over her hips he'd ripped open the fishnet stockings he requested she wear. Her legs held apart by the unseen device he' locked between her boot clad ankles.
"Make me cum," he demanded of her, "Make me cum."
He filled her, she felt him deep in her, the angle of penetration causing stimulation she found impossible to ignore.
He was merciless, he was brutal. Sarah didn't fight him. She obeyed him.
"Fuck," he groaned as she clenched her rapidly moistening walls around his girth as he forced himself deeper and deeper. His brutal penetration forcing her shoulders against the restraint, forcing rasping air from her lungs as he mercilessly fucked her. "Oh, fuck yesss"
Sarah's own breath short and rapid as she succumbed to his latest abuse; giving herself to him as he demanded.
"Fuck me... oh god fuck me" she heard herself say barely able to believe the words she thought, let alone stated aloud through her jaw as it briefly parted having been set hard against the sensation she felt building deep within her core.
"Oh, fuck me", she gasped again as he responded by increasing the pace and intensity of his constantly invading thrusts.
Sarah's mind blurred as her orgasm took over, she felt guilt, she felt shame, she felt alive. His grip increasing on her hair, his own body rigid, she felt her hair pull painfully at the roots. She felt her body explode her tense arms and legs quivering uncontrollably in their restraint. She came hard as she panted for breath the electricity coursing through her body as her eyes rolled in her head unable to focus. She released balled fists and she felt him cum deep inside her. The warm thick deposit mixing with her own release as he held himself deep inside her.
"Good girl" she heard him state "Good girl"
**********
"What if everything you thought you knew turned out to be a lie Jack?" Chloe narrowed her eyes pushing past him to the metal steps that led to the top of the fourth tier of Shipping Containers.
Reaching the top of the stairs Chloe stared out across the City that had become her adopted home as it sprawled across the horizon.
"What do you mean?" Jack stated reaching the top of the steps himself, his brow furrowed into a scowl.
"What if I'm not me and you're not you ... just constructs of another... both of us slowly manipulated... moulded like plasticine ... the playthings in a macabre and desperate game."
She grimaced
"A game we can't win... a game that we can only lose."
"Stop talking in fucking riddles Chloe." Jack raised his voice over the wind that whipped across the roof of the Warehouse and past her, blowing her red hair across her face. "If you've something to tell me ... fucking tell me."
"None of this is real Jack," she stepped backwards.
"Why'd you bring me here Chloe ... the constant string of messages near begging me to meet you... what do you want?"
"It's not me that wants you Jack?"
"Who then..." his scowl not softening "...Who wants me?"
"The...The Wolf," she stated her voice wavering.
"The Wolf." Jack laughed "The Wolf ... who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf ... not fucking me... too much coke... too many of them little blue pills Chloe...your mind is rotten... There is no Wolf."
Jack closed the gap between them as he spoke. Chloe stepped back further to the point where without looking she sensed the sheer drop behind her off the side of the stacked Containers.
"There is no Wolf," Jack angrily stated again. "There's no fucking Wolf ... What's the time Mr Wolf? ...What's the fucking time Mr fucking Wolf?"
Chloe could see the rage in his eyes now. His face flushed with anger. He had no idea how wrong he was. He had no idea how pivotal and central he was to everything. The proximity in which he found himself to The Wolf.
Distracted she turned from Jack as beneath them she heard the now overly familiar sound of a metal Storage Container door swing open. Looking back over her shoulder across the open concrete between the Warehouse and the haphazardly positioned Shipping Containers on the far side of the yard she saw the blonde leave through the doorway and the familiar form of The Wolf despite his face being obscured by the mask he wore stood watching her from the same doorway. The blonde paused turning back to him words being exchanged that she could not hear. Another girl, another capture in his complex web of deceit, another threat to Chloe's place at his side. The blonde crossed the concrete now her black skirt, tight little top and black boots so typical of The Wolf's particular preference. Making her way to a small silver car parked up between the Shipping Containers; Chloe had no idea who she was.
"There is a Wolf," Chloe stated, "And there you see him in his natural habitat."
"Sarah?" Jack muttered, standing closer to Chloe than she had realised
"Sarah" Chloe repeated back realising that he obviously recognised the blonde. From this distance it was hard for her to recognise any features.
Suddenly Chloe didn't need features to realise, this was the blonde who visited the Mills, this was the blonde. She started laughing a deep dark chuckle of a laugh that grew in astonishment.
"Hold on, Hold on... Not the Sarah... Thee... Sarah ...Gang Bang Sarah from the fucking house party Sarah?"
Jack watched, as did Chloe, as the little silver car reversed up before driving away through the Docks heading for the main entrance and exit. She sensed more to the situation than just a passing recognition of a one-time fuck.
"Oh Jack ... Oh, Jack don't tell me that you're..." Chloe chuckled again slowly steady chuckle that grew into a mocking laugh that caused her to cough on cigarette scarred lungs. "That's... that's fucking priceless."
The ferocity with which he grabbed hold of the front of her vest shocked Chloe into silence.
"What's she doing here?" He hollered his warm breath on her face as he dragged her close to him. His rage controlled him she had him where she wanted him by the cruellest twist of fate, a twist of fate for him that played out to her favour.
"So masterful," Chloe purred playfully biting the side of her mouth, "Just like him."
He didn't rise to her verbal baiting, too consumed she didn't doubt by the anger and confusion of what he'd seemingly just witnessed.
"Oh yes you do so remind me of him at times" Chloe reiterated her point using different words.
"Remind you of who?" His grip on her vest tightened as he physically shook her in his anger. Chloe misplacing her footing briefly but all she could do was smirk once again at the little lost boy so far out of his actual depth it was untrue.
"You remind me of your Father... at times... that anger ...that anger that was always just under the surface with him as it is with you... instability...The anger that made him the vile obnoxious unstable cunt that took a young girl and turned her life into a living nightmare"
"Bullshit my Father wouldn't have touched you"
"You'd have thought that about Mica Wise... but look at what he did to her... knocking up his own son's girlfriend."
His sneer, the contempt in his eyes, his face flushed with anger. She had Jack where she wanted him.
"He ruined so many lives ...you've read that diary ...you know how many innocent lives he ripped through like a cancer"
"Shut ... shut up Chloe" his words stuttered she knew she was getting to him.
"The same anger that made you stave in Spider's head with that metal bar"
Jack shook his head gritting his teeth. She had him, had him just where she wanted him.
"Don't worry you'll never truly be like him though ... because you'll never be cleverer than him... and do you know why?"
"Enlighten me Chloe?" Jack hissed.
"Because you're not better than me ...and I was better than him... when it mattered I out Logan'd Logan Hughes ... it was me..."
She saw his expression change, confusion crept across his face
"It was me Jack ...76 times ...76 fucking times I stuck the blade of the knife into him, and he begged me ... oh, how he begged me for salvation"
"You're a fucking liar"
"You don't know the half of what I've done..." she reached into her back pocket and slipped the 4-inch flick knife blade into her grip. Holding it to her side watching his eye line drift to the blade
"I killed your Father with this knife ... I've killed so many with this knife ... but none of them compared ... none of the deaths compared to the satisfaction of watching him bleed out..."
His eyes wet now as she continued to goad Jack
"You should know ... you should know he repeated your name towards the end... over and over again begging for forgiveness as the blood gargled past his lips spilling down his neck."
Chloe smiled, as Jack clenched her top so tight, she could feel the straps cutting into the backs of her shoulders. He pushed her or pushed himself away from her.
"You're a lying fucking whore Chloe"
"Am I?" Chloe placed a foot back.
There was nowhere to step back to.
She saw the immediate look of horror on Jack's face, his instinctive reach far too short of her to offer salvation.
Chloe was fully aware she was falling, the sensation of near weightlessness as falling backwards wind rushed past her ears as the shade of the navy-blue storage containers then consumed her. Looking up at Jack silhouetted against the sun overhead.
She felt a moment of calm, her mind free of the insanity that ravaged her, the insanity that had controlled her for as long as she could remember. Faces from her past mingled with faces from her present, her Parents, Beth, Jack, Spider, Logan in her last seconds she saw the face of the man who'd driven her insanity.
Now she was free.
Chloe's skull shattered on impact her limbs coming to rest at sickeningly obtuse angles.
No one heard her body strike the floor, no one rushed to her assistance. Her broken body strewn across the concrete floor of the Docks.
Amongst her dyed red hair, a steady trickle of thick dark claret blood spilled from her skull across the ground, as her wide lifeless eyes stared up to the clear blue sky above her.
**********
Reaching out her hand she hesitated
Hesitating contemplating what this represented, this conscious decision.
With her slender knuckles she softly tapped on the door of Room 525. The room number he'd sent her by text message only hours earlier.
The hotel in which she was attending a charity function, the hotel in which she had her own room only two floors down. The convenience of the event for local children's charities offered the perfect cover. A worthy cause to hide her further promiscuity. Closing her eyes realising the web of deceit she already spun balanced against the genuine feeling of anticipation that she'd felt all day.
She straighten the fitted pencil skirt of the black halter neck dress to her knee.
The door unlocked from inside the room, instinctively she looked left and right to check she hadn't been spotted.
He swung the door open gently and Rose Callaghan without a moment's hesitation stepped into the room, the high heels of her strappy shoes confidently struck the floor of the room. Ahead of her she saw two champagne flutes sat on the dressing table built into the wall of the room, the layout identical to her own that she had checked in to earlier. Next to the flutes in an ice bucket sat a bottle of Champagne
"Celebrating something?" she turned to Andrew Baxter and said while meeting the gaze of his dark brooding eyes set in that rugged face as he unashamedly looked her up and down.
"That dress..." he stated shaking his head, "Damn you wear that dress well."
Twenty minutes later the dress lay on the floor of the hotel room, half the contents of the Champagne bottle had been consumed.
Dressed now in only her heels and a pair of black hold up stockings Rose Callaghan straddled him, her hands pressed down on his toned stomach, feeling him penetrate her as she lowered herself on to him with a soft whimper. Her eyes flicker shut as she felt him fill her.
His hands move firmly over her breasts as she swirled her hips to accommodate him.
"It wasn't the dress..." he softly whispered slipping his hands from her breasts up Callaghan's neck drawing a shiver of nervous excitement as she leant forward craving the caress of his lips. "...It was the body in the dress."
Gently his right hand stroked her left cheek, as she let down her hair, letting it cascade over her shoulders while she leant back, arching her back and he raised his hips.
Callaghan's eyes met the ceiling, she bit her lip, his hands gripped her hips as she knelt astride him. His engorged manhood pushed deep into her slender body. She wanted him. She needed him.
"Fuck me," Callaghan whispered, "Fuck me Andrew."
**********
Laura Mancini felt the cool of the night air as she stepped through the fire exit into the poorly lit alley to the rear of Servitu, dressed in a figure hugging dark red spaghetti strap dress, her slick black hair fell perfectly straight to her shoulders.
It had been a quite night, the height of summer had that effect with more alternatives more distractions than a hot sweaty nightclub. She had no doubt that the Cafe Bars based along the canal side locations in which her apartment was based would be full of terrace drinkers. She may even pop for a drink herself having left a little earlier than normal much to the apparent surprise of Jamie Pierce her Bar Manager who she'd asked to ensure the end of night routines were adhered to and that all monies were placed in the safe in her office in her absence.
Pulling a little silver cigarette holder from her handbag she flipped open the hinged lid and was about to pull out a cigarette when she spotted the White Van parked across the alleyway, parked as such as it would be impossible to manoeuvre her Audi R8 around.
Her heels click clacked on the rough tarmac backstreet the smell of refuse bins hung in the air with a choking stench.
Approaching the Van from behind she realised from the reflection of the driver's side mirror that someone sat behind the steering wheel. Furiously tapping her knuckles against the driver's window, the shaven haired youngster in a black track suit top snapped his head around as she continued to tap her knuckles.
Slowly he lowered the window "Where's the fire beautiful?"
"You can't park this here" she bluntly stated "You're blocking my access"
"Sorry my love... I'll get a move on"
His use of words and his eye-line meeting her chest, not her face, infuriated her.
"What are you even doing here?"
"Well... we're waiting ... waiting on a pickup."
Laura Mancini never heard the male approach from behind and to her left, she certainly never saw him approach. The first she was aware was when one strong arm grabbed her from behind clamping a hand over her mouth while another arm wrapped around her waist.
Her silver cigarette box fell to the floor spilling its contents as she struggled. She heard the door of the van slide open as she continued to struggle a second pair of arms wrapped around her lower legs as she kicked. Lifted from the floor she was dragged on muffled screams into the darkness of the back of the Van.
Industrial tape run around her ankles, her wrists and her mouth, in her frantic struggle she could make out only silhouettes before a thick material bag was pulled over her head and she was dumped on her side in the back of the Van.
Minutes later the White Van pulled from the Alley way onto deserted streets followed by an Orange Audi R8.
The dark-haired girl driving the Orange Audi bore a passing resemblance but was not Laura Mancini.
Chapter Three; Set to pounce.
Laura Mancini lay strapped to what she could only describe as a chair in the confines of the wide long metal prison in which they held her captive.
Hours had passed since being strapped down upon the rigid piece of furniture, her legs aching from being raised and strapped apart into stirrups. She shivered in the darkness, shivering in both fear and from the coldness of the environment; the Dolce and Gabbana dress she'd worn removed from her, she had been pinned down and restrained completely naked. She'd struggled with all her might when they'd brought her here but against the combined strength of the four of them, she'd not stood a chance. They'd offered her water which she'd sipped from the bottle placed to her lips, she'd then drunk thirstily to sooth her throat raw from screamed protests. Sleep had taken her, an inexplicable deep troubled sleep that fuzzed her mind, causing desperately haunting visions and dreams; she'd been foolish they'd drugged her, earned her compliance and now the gag she'd woke to find was drawn tightly between her parted lips, preventing any further protest.
Once again, she pulled at her wrists even though she knew full well that the restraints around them would not give; she'd tested them countless times previously. Within the gloom her wide green blue eyes searched for any clues as to where she was. Raising her head, she could tell the room was long and narrow the metallic echoes suggesting this wasn't a room as such, not one within a building. Daylight filtering through the crack of a doorway now, the brightness of morning sunshine. As her surroundings illuminated ever so slightly, she made out the silhouette of an object between her and the doorway. The familiar contours and lines of her metallic Orange Audi R8. Whoever the fuck held her hear why the fuck did they have her car here as well? She couldn't process or comprehend what has going on, her thoughts confused by the effects of whatever drugs coursed through her bloodstream, addling her normally sharp mind.
Who would take her? why would anyone take her? She reasoned; panicking once again with a tear now in her eye as her Fathers words echoed in her mind "My enemies dare not harm a hair on your head my Princess". The tear fell silently down her right cheek. Her Father, her 'Babbo', over six months since his passing she missed him by the second, missed his warmth, missed his strong arms around her. Never had she felt so alone, never had she missed him so. The tears fell steadily as she sobbed into the gag.
An alien sound, a lock opening and then a shrill prolonged creak as the doorway opened. Blinking her bloodshot eyes against the brightness she could barely make out the figure that entered the darkness; the door closing swiftly behind him and locking.
Footsteps hard and steady causing an echo throughout the room. Her sobs stifled as she craned her neck forward. She couldn't see him, but she could hear him moving ever closer. Flinching as she felt a glove covered hand slip up the inside of her right thigh.
"It's been a traumatic few hour," his voice sinisterly whispered, "I apologise ... but you could be just the release I need."
The sound of his zipper seemed to fill the room, panicking once again struggling in restraints which she knew offered no reprieve. She couldn't see his face it was obscured. Was he wearing a mask?
