Snake is on the prowl for revenge whilst Patrick, Rachel, Jerry and Megan live in bliss in the Florida Keys. This is a three part multi chapter novella, and if you would like to find out why Snake is hell bent on revenge please read Rattling Snakes Cage and Rattling Snakes Cage Part 2 on Novels and Novellas.
All three parts are under copyright and therefore cannot be reproduced in anyway without the permission of the author.
*
The surf swept gently onto the golden sand as Patrick and Rachel lay on the beach catching a few hours relaxing before going to the bar to open up. Jerry and Megan had the day off, and with only the part time waitress to help out it would be a busy time ahead so they were taking this time to enjoy themselves together.
Lying on his back his right leg bent slightly, his left arm crooked up over his eyes, Patrick lay feeling the sun beat down on his body, his mind just drifting, and the sounds of children's laughter wafting down from further up the beach where a family frolicked in the waters edge. Rachel lay next to him on her side, the middle finger on her left hand gently stroking his hot skin, tracing down his rib cage, over the small ridges of muscles until they met the slightly silvered scar on his side where the knife wielded by Snake in that last fight had injured him.
Biting her lip she shuddered as she remembered that fateful night, and as she always did when the memories threatened to flood her mind she jumped up with energy and tried to do something that would push the thoughts to the back of her mind.
"Come on you big lump, lets go get one last dip before we go back." And she grabbed the arm that lay across his face, pulling at it to get him to stand up, "move that arse of yours you lazy sod."
Groaning Patrick sat up, and then rose up to his feet brushing the sand off his body, "I should have left you back in the UK brat. I never guessed what a pain in the butt you could be."
Rachel stopped suddenly, staring at him with a look of horror, "Do you mean that?"
"No of course not....."
"Then why did you say it?"
"I was joking....come on Rachel, it was just a joke."
"Not a very funny one..."
Grabbing her and hoisting her up over his shoulder so her head hung down his back Patrick ran over the sand towards the sea, "Where's your sense of humour gone....you know I love you...." and laughing he ran into the surf until he was waist high in the water and threw her backwards into it.
When she came up, her wet hair streaming into her eyes, the water gushing from her shoulders, spluttering, Patrick grabbed her around the waist and lifting her up threw her backwards again into the surf, following her body with his, arms twisting around her, legs tangling, his mouth finding hers under the water.
Kissing her he pulled her upright and stood in the water telling her, "I love you, you idiot....and you bloody well know it...."
Smiling she asked him, "And you're not sorry to be with me here?"
Exasperated he told her, "So like a damn woman to not believe what they're told by their man....come on..." and flopping backwards into the water he pushed off from the seabed and floated, the occasional backward swimming stroke taking him deeper into the sea.
*
Setting his Sat Nav to the address on the piece of paper the investigator had given him Snake started the long journey north to Leeds. In the back of the Porsche was the bag holding the bottle filled with flammable liquid, rag and bricks, for he was on his way to deal with the next names on his list of revenge.
It was very early morning and the traffic was heavy, but he wanted to get there fairly quickly to suss out the area before he struck.
And he was determined to strike that very night. Then return home to prepare for the next names on the list.
*
Danny walked hand in hand over the Puente Nuevo Bridge with the beautiful blond girl he had met at his club last week, and looked down into the deep chasm of the El Tajo gorge in the ancient and beautiful town of Ronda in the Spanish Andalusian Mountains where he had brought her for a romantic five days.
He glanced away from the spectacular view of the deep gorge and the mountains in the distance down to her long slim tanned legs that rose from small feet encased in impossibly high heeled sandals, a thin silver bracelet encircling her small shapely ankle, and then followed her legs as they rose up to disappear into the short floaty skirt that ruffled with the slight breeze giving him occasional glimpses of the high firm insides of her thighs.
Thighs that by tonight he planned to have clamped around his head as he ate her in an intimate place, before thrusting his cock deep inside her.
Walking slowly, talking quietly, they made their way to the Tapas bar further into the town proper, and sitting down they ordered their lunch. A selection of Tapas dishes to be washed down by a crisp white cold Spanish Wine before making their way to the small and exclusive Hotel just out of the towns centre and next to the old Arabic baths with beautiful views of the old medieval town.
*
Stopping off at the motorway service station Snake stretched his long legs and back before he wandered into the building, stopping off at the shop to buy a newspaper and then sitting down in the cafΓ© to have a strong cup of coffee. Flicking through the paper as he drunk his drink he looked for a particular news item and then put the cup down when he found it on page five. It was a small article under the heading, 'Mother and son killed in arson attack in their home as they slept.'
Finishing his drink he closed the paper and left it on the table as he stood up and left, making his way to Leeds, the feeling of satisfaction running through him at the news article.
*
Juan stood at the helm of his boat, the tourists drinking beer in the back with their fishing gear and their stories and lies of past glories, and of the ones that got away. He had heard it all before from the many fishermen that hired him and his boat for the day, and he only half listened as he headed out to where he knew the catches would be good.
Tonight he would contact his friend about the extra order of cigars for Patrick and Jerry.
In the past couple of years since the two couples had arrived and taken over the bar/restaurant opposite the apartment where he lived he had increased his income through supplying them with smuggled in cigars and Rum, and he was now preparing to approach the two men with a suggestion on smuggling a little something more lucrative and them selling it on.
Drugs.
Cocaine to be precise.