ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror(50)

Next up was Jordan. He came at Andrew with his arms wide, embracing him in a crushing bearhug and ramming him into the nearest wall. Andrew lost his breath as his cracked ribs impacted against the hard plasterboard. Unable to free his arms, he did the only thing he could think of: he bit Jordan in the face as hard as he could. Andrew felt his teeth slice through the succulent flesh of the boy’s cheek and felt almost orgasmic as agonised screams – that for once were not his own – filled the living room. He bit down harder, not releasing his grip until a fatty chunk of flesh fell away in his mouth. Andrew spat the morsel onto the already ruined carpet and pushed the shuddering teen away.

Andrew felt as though he was outside of his body now, controlling his rage-infected limbs from far away as they rattled with murderous intent. After being captured and subdued like an animal, Andrew was finally free – and all he wanted now was to see the blood of his captors flowing as freely as his own.

But before Andrew had a chance to sow his vengeance and free his family, he found himself once again powerless. Frankie stood in front of the sofa, a knife around Bex’s throat. She was still bound and gagged but Andrew could tell by his daughter’s eyes that she was terrified.

“Just let her go, Frankie, and I’ll let you walk out of here alive.”

Frankie cackled. “You’ll let me walk out of here alive. It’s you that’s a dead man.”

Andrew shook his head. “Shoes on the other foot now. I’m going to rip you apart first opportunity I get. Best chance you’ve got is to run.”

Frankie stared at Andrew as if he were insane. “You for real? I’d kill you before you even got close to me. I’m Frankie-f*ckin-Walker.”

Andrew shook his head. “You’re just a sad little boy that probably got abused in prison. We should all feel sorry for you, really – but you made a huge mistake when you took it out on my family. I’m ready to die to protect them. Are you really ready to die to stop me?”

Davie entered the conversation, standing between them both. Jordan was still screaming in pain and rushed into the kitchen to tend to the ripped-open wound on his face. His brother Dom lay on the floor, rubbing his shoulder. Michelle was still unconscious. Davie put a hand up to Andrew and Frankie, like a referee at an out-of-hand boxing match. “Let’s just keep things calm, okay? If you stay where you are, Andrew, we’ll all get out of your house right now.”

“Like f*ck we will,” said Frankie, still holding Rebecca at knifepoint.

Davie turned to his brother. “This has gone tits-up, man. We need to leave.”

Frankie stared at his younger brother and eventually let out a sigh. “You’re right. This is an epic fail, isn’t it?”

Davie nodded. “Let’s not make it suck any worse.”

Frankie nodded. “Okay. Dom, get up off the floor and fetch your brother out the kitchen. Then the both of you get Michelle and carry her useless ass out of here.” Then Frankie looked at Andrew, narrowed his eyes. “You come after me, gangster, and I’ll put you down permanently. Then someone will come and sort your family out for good measure. Same thing will happen if you go to the police. You get me?”

Andrew said nothing. He didn’t need to involve himself in worthless banter with a degenerate like Frankie – he could see through it all now. The police would get a call the moment he left, and if anyone came after Andrew’s family afterwards, they would regret it.

“Let my daughter go!”

It wasn’t Andrew who spoke. It was Pen. She’d stood up from the sofa and was clutching the scissors – the ones used to scalp her – in her hands. No one had seen her grab them, but in the earlier ruckus she would have had every chance to take them unnoticed.

“Let her go,” Pen repeated, pointing the scissors at Frankie’s face to further her point.

Frankie sniggered. “Or else what, you bald bitch?”

“Let her go, now!”

Andrew called out to his wife and tried to calm her down. The situation was nearly over and she didn’t need to do this. “Honey, come over to me. Everything is going to be okay in just a minute.”

But she wasn’t listening.

“Listen to your husband, sweetheart. You ain’t going to be doing nuffin.” Frankie spat across the room and hit her chest. “Now f*ck off!”

Pen rushed at Frankie with the scissors, face contorted in a witch-like grimace of utter hatred and malevolence. Frankie spun to meet her head on, holding Bex in front of him as a shield. Their bodies collided and the scissors disappeared.