Ex-soldier Birmingham-gangster bets his life on luck and illegalities, adroit wit and burning passion streaking his blood-stained fingertips as a dire quarrel commence between himself and the disturbed Dane who purloined his lover.
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JANUS-FACED
A DAY LATER AND Nikolaj had not yet returned to the Frankfurt manor. While his absence ought to put a certain peace to her heart, it did nothing but worry Ines Lenz all the more. God knows what Nikolaj was up to, and frankly, she feared he might not be very happy to see her. But natheless, he did walk through the front door exactly 6 o'clock.
Ines had spent the whole night, tossing and turning and grumbling for she could not sleep. First, it was too cold, then too hot. Then her Dobermann barged into the bedroom, first terrifying her wildly, then it wanted a place in the bed and soon began snoring. Her night was terrible, to say the least. She got no peace and was worried out of her mind.
What was Nikolaj out doing?
Why was he not home?
When would he come home?
Did he even want her home?
Would he still be mad?
The questions were endless and kept coming, tremendously perturbing.
She worried about what he would do, and what she would do. What she would have to do if she did not want to end up like Peter Karlsen. She worried if it would ever get to that and if she would even have a chance. Anxiety coursed her veins and it was then she remembered Thomas' letter. In the early morning, she finally got out of bed and began packing her bags. Two large and she collected Motley's leash. The growing Dobermann thought it was time for a walk and began jumping around, little did she know they was going a lot further than down the gravel road.
Ines and Motley were going to Birmingham. They were fleeing in a scare, Ines frightened and the smaller creature ever-joyous. She was taking up Thomas Shelby's offer and could only hope he would help her out of this strenuous situation.
But it was just then the doors opened, and Nikolaj let himself in, mentally cursing his wife for not locking the doors when no maids appeared to be around. He noticed a suitcase standing by the door, and his eyes narrowed, speculating. Reminded of their previous fights it was not difficult to piece together the puzzle and he grew exceedingly furious.
Dared she leave him?
He marched up the stairs, walked right into the bedroom and found Ines on the floor, packing another suitcase with clothes for days, months even. His tomato red face matched one which one could imagine to be that of a satirical angered character on the comic strips in the newspaper. He only needed the smoke emitting from his ears to fit the profile. Ines knew right then she was in for it.
"I was ready to forgive you!" screamed he. It was the first words he had spoken in hours.
"Nik, please—"
"You think you can leave me?"
"You're not well—"
"To hell with 'well'!" bellowed Nikolaj, flipping over an electrical lamp so that it shattered on the floor. The phone stand was next and Ines gasped, scrambling to get onto her feet. "I gave you everything—everything you could ever want, and this is how you repay me? I need you more than ever now!"
"You need a doctor, you need psychiatric help, Nik—please, just let me help you with this and we--we can be happy again—"
Attempting a sardonic smirk, disgruntled, his imposing frame slowly and menacingly striding to meet her; she had never felt so weak and he had yet to say a word, yet to strike her as his cynical features promised, venturing to a derisive, bellowing laughter, his hard glare turned into one of utter contempt and his lips curled up in a skeptical smile.
"Happy?" He tasted the word. "You were—you want to leave me! How can I trust you then, Ines? Tell me!"
Ines distanced herself with a table to separate the two, her breath hitching in her throat.
"Please calm down, Nik—"
"Oh, I'm calm," secured Nikolaj. "More than ever. But I can't have you go anywhere. Not now."
"Nikolaj, let's just sit and take a moment—"
"No, no, no—not now, you were going to leave me!"
Her eyes flickered to Nikolaj's bedside drawer. She needed to get out.
"Nik, I wouldn't—"
"You would! You were right in the middle of it, Ines! Don't deny it! I can't have that—Ines!"
A second later she stood with a gun in her hands. Trembling she cocked the gun, that much she knew and was fairly certain how to pull the trigger. She could not. There was no prospect in which she would possibly pull the trigger of his Smith & Wesson. Bearing in mind she is a woman who never in her life had been in a situation where she needed to shoot a gun. Her hands were shaking, adrenaline stuck in her throat.
Nikolaj chuckled.
"You wouldn't—"
"Not another step, Nik!"
"Put the gun down, Ines."
"Nikolaj, I swear if you don't stop right there—Nikolaj!" screamed Ines, pleading and she shot.
A moment of silence, then a gasp.
She missed.
"I can't believe you did that—Ines, what the fuck—" he said disconcerted, angry, and he was threateningly striding towards her.
She shot again, point-blank and this time he landed on the floor, bleeding heavily from his stomach.
Fuck.
She dropped the gun and was a split-second from running to aid him in his pain, but then she halted.
Cursing, she ignored Nikolaj's voice and got the suitcase. She closed it, half-full and got Motley who patiently had sat still, barking only when their voices were raised. It was not until she made it to the ajar front door she felt the dampness resting just by her eye. Tentatively, her hand lifted and a finger delicately stroke the skin, picking up a wet, red bead.
Nikolaj's blood.
And here she thought she had shed a tear.
Hastily getting the dog and her bags into one of Nikolaj's parked cars, she got into the driver's seat. The car set for the train station bumped on the gravelly road, and she wept then.
The very thought she moments ago had shot her husband, fatally perhaps, was more than alarming, unsettling, too. But after all, who was to say what he had done next. So deceitful through the years, so insincere. And it was droll, for he had once admitted to enjoying the dramatics of modern art, but she never, not once, had stopped to consider he himself played the biggest role of all.
and a happy new year (with loads of updates (maybe))
