ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror(45)

Davie wanted to slap Jordan for saying such a horrid thing to her, but knew that he would just take a clobbering. He couldn’t take Dom or Jordan on his best day and their worst – and especially not with a concussion and a stomach that kept threatening to purge itself.

“Okay,” said Frankie, clapping his hands together. “Everybody nice and settled again?”

No one said anything, but all turned in his direction.

“Good,” Frankie nodded. “Then I think this would be a good time to explain to everyone what happens when people don’t follow my rules.” He turned to Andrew and patted him on both cheeks. “Stay with us, hero. I was about to tell your bitches about what a fine display you put on up there.”

“What happened?” Davie asked, knowing that the answer wouldn’t be anything good.

“What happened, little bro, is that this gangster right here took a pole to my skull. Fair play, I say, but it never did him no good in the end. My knife was mightier than his pole.”

Rebecca moaned beneath the tape on her mouth and Davie matched her reaction by stretching his eyes wide. “You stabbed him?”

Frankie shrugged. “Had no choice. Guy was out of control and needed putting down.”

“We need to go, Frankie. This is getting bad.”

“Shut the hell up, Davie,” said Michelle from Frankie’s side. “You’re such a downer all the time.”

Unusually, Frankie did not jump to his brother’s defence, which Davie took as a bad sign. “Okay,” he said, changing tact. “What now then?”

Frankie smiled at him. “Glad you asked. What we’re going to do now is show Andrew the error of his ways. Man took a chunk out of my forehead then tried to take out Dom and Jordan. I think he needs to pay for that.”

“You already stabbed him,” said Davie.

Frankie nodded. “That was just to detain him. If the police catch you and give you a kicking you still go to court afterwards. They don’t take the beating required to subdue you as the punishment for the crime.”

“Yeah,” said Dom. “He still needs to be put on trial.”

“And so here we are,” said Frankie, gushing with amusement, “to preside over the people versus Mr Andrew…whatever the f*ck his name is.”

“What are the charges?” asked Michelle, happily playing along with the charade.

“Kiddie-fiddling, goat-f*cking, and the crime of thinking his shit don’t stink.”

“How do you find?” asked Jordan, laughing till he was out of breath.

Frankie held a finger in the air to silence the room. He seemed deep in thought. Suddenly he thrust his finger at the floor and screamed the word, “GUILTY!”

“What is his punishment?” asked Dom gleefully.

Frankie put his hands together and placed the fingertips under his nose as if trying to gain guidance from God himself. “Through the power invested in me by the courts, I sentence this wicked man to a slow and lingering death…by torture.”

Torture – Davie repeated the word in his head three times. Then he threw up.





Chapter Seventeen


“You okay, man?” Frankie had moved over to rub Davie’s back while he continued to be sick.

Davie spat a wad of saliva onto the carpet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think so. Just came over me all of a sudden.”

“Must be the concussion,” Frankie suggested. “Don’t worry, though. He’s going to pay for what he did to you.”

Davie shook his head and looked up at his brother. “I just want to go. I feel rough, man. Need to go to bed. This bandage is on my head for a reason.”

Frankie examined him for several seconds then nodded. “Okay, Davie. We’ll get you home to rest.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Frankie smiled at him warmly. “Just as soon as I’m done here. Let me finish up.”

Davie took some deep breaths and tried to calm his stomach before he spoke. “Finish up?”

Frankie leant closer and whispered in Davie’s ear. “Got to get rid of the witnesses.”

“No way,” said Davie. “You can’t be serious.” He leant forward and lowered his voice so that only Frankie could hear the question he was about to ask. “You’re not really going to kill anybody, are you?”