ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror(46)

Frankie looked at Davie and nodded very slowly, very seriously. The cold cubes of ice that were his brother’s eyes chilled Davie to the bone. He finally realised that he no longer knew the person standing in front of him. Something had changed inside of Frankie when he went away – or was it that he came back with something missing?

What the hell happened to you in that young offender’s nick, Frankie? What the hell screwed you up this badly? You were never like this before. You were just my big brother and that was enough.

“I don’t want to kill anybody,” said Davie, tears forming in his eyes.

“You don’t have to, little bro. Leave it all up to me. Haven’t I always looked after you?”

Davie nodded. The urge to vomit was rising up from his guts and he fought hard to contain it.

“This is getting boring, Frankie. Let’s f*ck something up.” It was Michelle. The sound of her voice was like a squealing pig to Davie’s ears. If someone really was about to die, Davie wished it could be her.

His upper lip curled up in a snarl. “Shut the hell up, Shell, you coked-up whore.”

Michelle marched forward and grabbed a hold of Frankie’s arm. “You going to let the little wanker talk to me like that?”

Frankie shrugged away from her grasp and turned to Davie. He let out a short laugh but looked deadly serious. “You got to learn to play nice, man. That was out of line, you get me?”

“Is that it!” said Michelle, stamping her feet and waving her arms like an outraged cartoon character.

Frankie slapped Michelle viciously across the face. It wasn’t hard enough to injure her but had enough force to knock her to the ground. “How many f*cking times have I told you to leave it out, you skinny cunt?”

Michelle fell to the floor and cowered, raising her arms up to deflect any further blows. “I…I’m sorry, baby. Please…”

Frankie clicked his fingers at her. “Get the f*ck up and be quiet. You give my brother shit one more time and I’ll end you.”

Michelle nodded and hurried away to the far side of the room. Davie noticed that Dom and Jordan were sat watching the television again but were keeping one eye on the argument and giggling between themselves.

Davie shook his head. You’re all just a bunch of crack heads.

“Okay,” Frankie rubbed his hands together. “It’s getting cold in here so I’m going to go and put the heating on. When I get back it will be time to carry out sentencing. Dom, Jordan, sort your shit out and wake up. You’re sat watching the snooker championships and you’re giggling your bloody arses off like it’s the funniest thing you ever saw.”

Dom and Jordan suddenly looked like naughty children and struggled to their feet quickly. Frankie left the room and Michelle ran after him, no doubt to fawn over him and try to make up. Davie sat down on the sofa between the women and worried about their fates.

A garbled murmur let those in the room know that Andrew had regained consciousness. He was looking across the room at Davie through his swollen eyelids.

No, not at me. He’s looking at his family.

“Everything will be okay,” Davie told him, hating himself for lying. “We’re all going soon.”

“Yeah,” said Dom, “after we deal with your pasty, white ass.”

“Why…why do you follow him?” Andrew asked the room. Davie wasn’t sure who it was directed at, but he figured it was a valid question for all of them.

“We don’t follow no one,” said Jordan. “We just hang with Frankie ‘cus he’s got the supply.”

“So you…help him terrorise innocent people just because he feeds you…drugs?”

“That about sums it up, blud.” Jordan couldn’t help himself but to laugh. “Sucks for you, huh, whitey?”

Andrew laughed – it was a thick, throaty sound, full of derision. “I think it sucks for you…that you let another man own your ass. You’re all just Frankie’s bitches.”

Andrew started to laugh harder, despite the obvious difficulty he had taking in air through his crumpled nose. Dom and Jordan seemed furious, but were lost for words. It wasn’t very often anyone had the balls to sound off at the twins. Davie looked down at the floor and grinned.

Frankie re-entered the room, carrying a tea towel that seemed to be wrapped around something. He moved to the centre of the room and placed the tea towel on the coffee table, before unravelling it to reveal a set of various-sized knives, a corkscrew, screwdriver, and a pair of pliers.