𝙰𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 | 𝚃𝚘𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚡 𝙾𝙲 (𝟷𝟾+)

12 ~ I Need My Wife

Tom Holland

"I SWEAR I DON'T-"

"FUCKING BULLSHIT!" Two loud shots fire through the air as I shoot the pleading man in the gut and face, blood splattering over my white shirt and the nice carpeting. I sigh, wiping my face with a handkerchief from my suit pocket and turning to face Harrison.

"I'll get the cleaners" He mutters as he looks at my face. I nod him a thank you, gently wiping the barrel of my gun with the cloth as I come down from the adrenalin rush.

It's been about two months since Ruth has gone missing and I'm losing my shit. I find someone who might know where she is, they deny, I torture them, they plead, I kill them. It's been an endless cycle and I'm getting worried... I refuse to stop; I've stopped sleeping, I eat the bare minimum (thanks to Martha who basically forces food down my throat), and only really drink alcohol to clear my flooded brain. All I can think about is her- as creepy as it sounds...

As soon as I pulled up to the gates of the house and saw my men dead on the ground, I panicked. Rushing inside the house as I frantically looked for the black-haired girl with different eyes, looking in and out, over and under anything she could fit in. I found her book outside, page 166 of her new read she gushed to me about before our... Our 'moment' I guess, and that's when it really hit me.

She's gone.

At first I thought she might've gotten someone to get her somehow, but looking at the area surrounding the dirty blanket and book, mud was smeared, she must've tried to do what Haz told her, but she couldn't. All I could see was red from that moment on. All I want to do is get her home, hold her and apologies for being such a fucking dick.

Ever lead we have is a dead end with a limp body in a red puddle at the end of it. Every hall way seems endless, the same with car rides. Rooms seem so small and suffocating that I find myself in her room. My brothers have found me in there multiple times, just laying in her bed and holding her favourite plush. It was a little green dinosaur with a dopey face and smile. It has a stumpy tail with grey 'spikes' trailing down it's back from it's forehead. She said she got matching with her bestfriend, who named hers 'Goose'- Goose the cat from 'Captain Marvel' that scratched Nick Fury's eye out. And, obviously, Ruth named hers 'Jonathan' because of the 'amazing Daddy Paul Rudd' she exclaimed.

That's where I find myself now- after the never ending car ride; in her room, surrounded by her scent that engulfs me. The bed perfectly made, her things arranged neatly as she liked it and a box on her- Why the fuck is there a box on her bed? I step forward from my placing at the door, shutting it gently as I make my way to her mattress. It was a parcel, address to her- obviously. Martha must've put it here for when she gets back.

I want to leave it and be respectable for her privacy- I really do, but curiosity gets the better of me as I slice open the tape at the top of her brown layer with a pocket knife that sat in my pocket. Opening it carefully, I'm greeted with.. Spider-Man?  I pick up the soft red and blue material under it's nubby arms, holding it like you would with a child- but with straight arms in front of me (Not the best way to do it unless they done a shit). It was around the size of a fat, a year old child. It was fucking soft as shit though. I stare at it for a long time, probably too long for it's simple pattern but I take a while to process things..

I put it on her side of the bed- the left, closest to the window, and place it against the pillow that sat there. As I was about to walk away, something under the pillow caught my eye; Pulling it out, it was the shirt I gave her from when she refused the put her shirt back on after a few too many drinks. I smile at the piece of black material, full knowing that I've been looking for it since I gave it to her since it's my favourite casual shirt. It smells faintly like her over the scent of myself, and I couldn't help the giddy grin on my face- I'm some what aware that she wears it to bed from the amount of times I've seen her run down the hallway to get a glass of water, or just from her walking to the kitchen for lunch. I knew it seemed familiar, but I never questioned it whenever I looked at it's In and Out logo.

I fold it and place it back under her pillow, grabbing the box and wrapping on the way out of her room. I shut the door carefully as I descend to the recycling bin outside, throwing open the lid and shoving the box in quickly before the lid came down with a bang.

I wonder if the purple tips of her hair that she's re-dyed whenever it fades has grown out. I wonder if she's smaller, or if they treat her right; if she scarred and bruised with blood around her small body. I clench my jaw, looking over at Harrison who came outside, panting.

"Nick has something" He breathes, pushing me inside and up to my office where my brothers were situated, looking at me with stern yet hopeful looks. It hasn't just been hard on me; it's been hard on everyone here. Ruth has made such an impact on all of us, especially Harrison. We don't talk about her unless there's something new, but I can tell by his bloodshot eyes that he's taking it fairly hard too.

"What've you got, Nick?" I ask, leaning over the phone on the wooden desk.

"You know how all the cameras were cut out when she was taken?" Nick questions, rustling with something on his end.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I've got something, from before the cameras cut out- a number plate" My eyes widen as my mouth parts slightly as I stare down at the phone.

"T-That's fucking great! What is it? Do you know who owns the car or where it is?" I frantically ask, feeling some sort of relief wash over me.

"It owned by this guy- Francis Smith. Lives in Brixton, 7th house on Nursery Road" I write the details down quickly, gaping at the sheet of paper and laugh.

"Nick, Mate! I could fucking kiss you right now! Thank you so much" I exclaim, looking at my brothers and bestfriends relieved faces.

"Heh, please don't... The thanks is enough. Happy to help, Boss" He hung up the phone, the beeping ringing through the room as I clap my hands together happily, ready to hit the road; but I'm stopped by Harrison.

"We'll do it in the morning, yeah? It's late and the guys need some rest Tom.." He gave me a concerned look, knowing I haven't slept either.

"But we can get her. Now. Then rest with her here, Haz!" I smile, eager to go and save my girl. Harrison shakes his head.

"Look, mate, I want to see her too; believe me, I do. But tomorrow when we're energized enough to kill the fuckers that took your wife from you."

"Harrison, I fucking need her." I flared my nostrils slightly, getting impatient but understanding what he meant. Ever since she was taken, none of us have slept, or at least not a good rest; and it's 2:30am now and I feel too awake.

"I get that, Tom. I know you do, but please- In the morning?" He begs slightly. I sigh, looking at my brothers who have the same pleading look, the bags under their eyes look heavy in the golden lighting.

"Fuck- Fine.. But as soon as I'm up, we're gone." I mutter, walking down the hall to my bedroom and shutting the door, ready for a warm shower.

I ended up looking up this guys house and location after the steamy shower. From Kingston to Brixton is about 37 minutes with it's quickest route and that's enough to make me want to get everyone up and go now with how far it is. It isn't that far, but this isn't where Ruth is. This is where the driver is, where the guy that holds the information of where she is.

I sigh, closing the laptop with a gentle thud and put it on my bedside table. Now knowing that we have a fucking good lead makes me feel less stressed, yet the tiredness has caught up. Laying down on the cool material of my pillow, I shut my eyes, stirring and turning under the sheets as I try to get comfortable. I sit in a single spot, counting in my head as I finally lull off.

These fuckers are going to pay.