“Yes,” he leant in for a kiss, “everything is perfect.”
His attention was once again drawn to the tray at the centre of the table. Nash asked, “Eva, what’s with the shots?”
Eva tilted her head. “Didn’t you see the news? Cavendish’s trial ended today.”
“No, I’ve been stuck in school play rehearsals all day.” He clenched his fists. “What was the verdict?”
The press had labelled the prosecution of Ramsay Cavendish as the trial of the century. But given that those seemed to happen every couple of years, Nash wasn’t swayed by their bombast. It was certainly well covered. The prosecution had thrown everything at the man who had once been held in such high regard. The press did so love a tall poppy’s fall.
Eva handed out shots. “They got him on nineteen of the twenty counts. The prosecution estimate at least two hundred years. That bastard isn’t seeing daylight for the rest of his life.”
Not replying immediately, Nash took in the news. He’d told his friends he’d contemplated murdering Cavendish with the shotgun, although he never fully explained how close he’d been to killing him. He was truly the most evil man Nash had ever encountered, and that was saying something. He’d been responsible for the death of Paul and countless others. Nash was sure Cavendish still walked with a limp where he’d shot him in the legs, a non-fatal, but still brutal blast. Nash was a good man, but not that good.
Unlike Cavendish, Nash had decided to trust in the very institutions Cavendish held in such contempt. He’d fought the violent urges and had stayed true to his own beliefs. Today, that decision had been vindicated.
Pushing himself up from the table, Nash walked across the room, everyone watching his movement. Once he reached the centre of the pub, Mason Nash proceeded to dance.
“What on earth are you doing?” Sophia stifled a laugh and shook her head. “Please stop.”
Nash did not stop; he gave himself over to the moves. “It’s the MC Hammer dance from ‘U Can’t Touch This’—what else would it be?”
“An epileptic fit?”
Sabine did her best to pretend to be embarrassed, although she too was laughing along with the rest of the table.
With hands on hips, Nash flicked his head from side to side as he executed his typewriter dance moves. “I promised Cavendish when he went down I would celebrate with this, and I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”
Eva wiped a tear from her eye. “You might be a man of your word, but your dance moves leave a lot to be desired.”
Puffing from the exertion, Nash said, “Either work hard or you might as well quit.”
“I… I don’t know what that means.”
When Nash finished his victory dance, they all shared a shot to celebrate the demise of the once -powerful Cavendish. Sabine had to settle for a lemonade.
As the night wore on, more good cheer and stories were exchanged. Every so often Nash took a moment to appreciate what he had. There’d been times in the past when he would have thought he didn’t deserve this level of happiness. He was glad he’d persevered. Before Tartarus he thought his best days were behind him, that he was an old man who would slowly wither away.
He’d been wrong. His life wasn’t over. It was just beginning.
THE END
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Afterword
Hey there,
This is where Nash’s story ends, but have you caught up on the other stories to be had? If not, you’re in for a hell of a ride!
Eva’s story starts here:
Better shape up Bond. There's a new girl in town and she's come to kick some ass.
Meet Eva Destruction, the only thing quicker than her mouth is her talent for getting into trouble. It's true she's always had an eye for a bad boy but when she falls for billionaire super-villain Harry Lancing, it seems that even Eva may have bitten off more than she can chew. Eva hurtles headlong into terrorist attacks, assassinations, car chases and the occasional close encounter with a dashing spy who seems determined to charm Eva into bed as he is to thwart Lancing's plans to bring down every government on Earth.
As the odds begin to stack up in Lancing's favour the fate of the world lies in Eva's hands. Luckily for the world, Eva Destruction isn't the type of girl to let a super-villain ex-boyfriend with a massive ego, unlimited resources and his own secret island get the better of her.
Bishop’s story starts here:
You’ve never met a spy like this before!
When the Turkish ambassador crashes his car in central London, the incident launches an unforeseeable series of catastrophic events—and a naked body. MI6 spy Charles Bishop flies headfirst into intrigue, gun battles and assassinations.
He’s on the hunt for a mysterious and powerful arms-dealing organisation named Kali—and they have him squarely in their sights. Along the way he falls for a mysterious woman who may just be the death of him.
Fast-paced with whip-smart dialogue and twists at every turn, Kiss My Assassin is the very definition of unputdownable.
Or perhaps you should be introduced to Atticus Wolfe?
Atticus Wolfe is a man out of time.
