Don't Look Back: Clytemnestra Stone Series

By R M Nicholls

An action-packed short story in the Clytemnestra Stone series.

Ness Stone is retired at the grand age of twenty three. The hitmen, the psycho ex-boyfriends, the nights in the cells, the criminal connections that her gangster father left behind – all that is behind her now. She donated her ill-gotten billion dollar fortune to charity and settled down with her gorgeous non-psycho boyfriend. Yet when she gets a call from her ex she runs straight back into danger. She was wrong to look back. But can she really escape her past or will it finally kill her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: R M Nicholls
• Release date: Dec 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519928405

Book preview

I should have known better than to pick up a call from my ex-boyfriend.

My phone trilled insistently from the bedside table. I half opened my eyes to see who was calling, then closed them again for two blissful seconds. A fuzzy headache was pushing against the inside of my skull. If I slept for just another hour the headache would disappear. My bed was warm, soft, and had a gorgeous French man in it. I should have stayed there.

Yet I staggered to the bathroom with my phone, glancing back at my boyfriend lying on the bed. Antoine's long sun-tanned limbs were tangled up in my blankets. His black brows knitted for a moment as he stirred in his sleep. Merde avec ton putain de mobile, mais qui est-ce alors?

Personne, mon amour, It's no-one, my love, I replied.

I deleted the voicemail without listening to it. But then, after a moment's hesitation, I pressed 'Return Call.' I can't explain why I did that. There was no good reason to call him back. Owain was not likely to have called me for a friendly chat. Our rare conversations always left me feeling resentful and guilty in equal measure. Occasionally I saw a vestige of the man that I used to lust after, but I didn't want to be tempted back into a relationship with him. Things were going so well with Antoine. I thought that an affectionate conversation with Owain was the worst thing that could happen. I was wrong.

Ness, there's a dead girl in my mother's bed.

If I was anyone else this would be shocking news. Drop that dead donkey, hold the front page, because. well gosh, I never got involved in a murder before. Except all those times when I did. I found my father's dead body and was suspected of his murder for years. Another ex-boyfriend of mine was stabbed to death right next to me. And once, only once, I killed a man. I will never go to jail for that, but I will spend the rest of my life trying to atone for it. The last thing I needed was to get involved in another murder. So my reaction wasn't exactly compassionate.

Owain, fuck off, I'm sleeping. You woke Antoine. It's... What is it, urgh, four in the morning. Are you sure she's even dead? Most decent people are trying to sleep. She's probably asleep. Are you high? I kept my voice low, but the tiled ensuite bathroom amplified my whispers.

She's not sleeping. Someone's removed her heart. Her chest is all... wide open.

Oh. Now I was awake. Suddenly I was 'four espressos and a bucket of ice water' wide awake. This wasn't new to me, either. I had seen these guys before. The Repo Men's operatives hunted me all the way across the USA. While on the run, I saw one of their victims in a morgue in Los Angeles. That image still haunts my nightmares. These guys are high-class loan sharks. Their clients are black market billionaires and rogue states. My father used them for cash flow, or when he needed some dirty money scrubbed until it shone. Trouble is, if you don't pay up, they send a Repo Man. And he doesn't just take your TV. He cracks open his victim's ribs and slices out the heart, draining every drop of blood from the body Taking the heart of a debtor is the Repo Men's trademark, and it ensures that the debt rarely goes unpaid.

I still had a debt with them, of sorts. I didn't owe them money, but I had crossed them and I had done it publicly. I also brought down the two criminal organizations that  provided most of their work and protection.

I wasn't sure how they had got to Owain, but, as the sleep unfogged from my mind, it occurred to me that I might be the link. This could, yet again, be my fault.

I had left this life behind. The life of murders and endless police investigations that circled around me like so many hungry sharks. I was spending a relaxing weekend in Devon with my boyfriend. In the evening an old friend was coming over for a civilized dinner. Normal life. I wasn't used to it. I felt a pull of familiarity towards the mess from where Owain was calling me. It was the world where I grew up as a child with my billionaire crime boss father. It was also the world in which I came of age. The tangled web of my father's funeral games had left my soul barely intact. I shouldn't get involved in this, You have to call the police.

I can't. Ness, I'm in trouble. I need your help. I'm at my Mum's old holiday cottage. I know you're nearby. I saw you in the local paper.

Yes, the local paper had been good enough to print my whereabouts. 'Philanthropist Clytemnestra Stone Visits Devon.' Well, in the old days the headline would have read, 'Psycho Stone At Large In Devon.' It's an improvement, but I would still prefer not to be famous. 

How much do you owe them? I asked him.

I don't owe—Well, okay, a little. Ness I need you to come. Please, can I borrow some money, just for a month? Not much, just twenty thousand, maybe thirty, if you can spare it?

My student loan doesn't stretch to that, Owain. I gave all my money away, you know that. 

You must have kept some. And your boyfriend, he's rich, he could give you some money.

I resisted the temptation to tell him exactly what Antoine would say to that idea. Call the police.

I can't. Ness, I need you to come over. Please, please, help me. You're the only person that I can turn to.

"I am not 'the only person you can turn to.' I am your ex-girlfriend with emphasis