ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror(52)

“My mate lives a few blocks up,” Frankie told them all. “It’s pretty late so he should be in. Mind your manners, though, because this guy would kill you as soon as look at you. In fact he’s the only geezer in the world that actually scares me. ”

Everyone nodded their understanding. Then they got going again, cutting through the paved-jungle of the housing estate and disappearing into the night.

***

Frankie knocked the door and shushed everyone. The house they were stood at was bigger than most of the others on the street with a long driveway and an overhanging porch that had a light that lit their approach.

“He going to be mad?” Davie asked, trying to fight away the feeling that things were somehow getting worse than better.

“Maybe,” said Frankie, “but once I tell him the deal, he’ll understand. Last thing he needs is his best dealer going away for a long stretch.”

A light came on in the hallway. It shined through the frosted glass of the PVC door. After a few seconds of clinking sounds, of deadbolts and chains being unlocked, the door opened up.

Blinking out at them through sleep-fuzzed eyes was a shaven-headed youth about the same age as Frankie. The lad was well-muscled and wearing nothing but a pair of designer boxer-shorts.

“Fuck, Frankie, is that you?”

“Yeah, Damien, it’s me. I need to lay low for a couple days. Some shit went down that’s pretty heavy.”

Damien glanced at a glinting watch on his wrist and narrowed his eyes beneath the glaring porch light. “Two-o-clock in the morning, gangster. You pick your goddamn times, you know that? I ought to whoop your ass for waking me.”

“I know, man. If I wasn’t desperate, I wouldn’t be here.”

Damien opened the door wider and let them all in. “You’ll make this up to me, Frankie. We’ll discuss how later.”

They all entered and Damien closed and locked the door behind them. Then he ushered them through into the lounge. Davie peered around the room in awe. A plasma screen TV as big as any he’d ever seen hung from one wall, while opposite was a huge wraparound sofa deep enough to bury a body in. Everything in the room seemed expensive and tasteful; the fact that it belonged to someone only a few years older than Davie made it even more unbelievable. He could see why Frankie had allowed himself to get dragged down the same path of dealing drugs if these were the rewards.

“Take a seat,” Damien told everyone. “I’ll get some beers and put the heating on. They say it’s going to snow this year and it’s already getting too cold for my liking. Frankie you come with me and we’ll talk business.”

Davie watched his brother leave and sat himself down on the extravagant sofa. The twins and Michelle did the same.

“What a f*cking trip,” said Dom. “Never seen anything like what happened tonight.”

“We’re all screwed,” said Davie.

“Stop stressing, D,” said Michelle. “Frankie will sort everything out.”

Davie didn’t want to talk to any of them; he’d just be wasting his time. They understood what they had all just been a part of – and they simply didn’t care. Davie, on the other hand, couldn’t help but recall the images of Rebecca hitting the floor with scissors poking out her guts. She hadn’t hurt anyone and neither had her mother. Now they were both probably dead.

And I’m partly responsible.

Davie wondered what it was about Andrew that had consumed all of Frankie’s focus. The torture of that poor family had been like an obsession once Frankie had gotten into their house. Davie thought about Andrew now and considered the pain a man would feel watching his family get destroyed like that. Maybe it was the worst pain imaginable. It certainly seemed like it at the time as Davie had watched Andrew’s grief.

“You think Frankie will let us score some more?” Jordan asked the group.

“I hope so,” his twin added. “I’m starting to come down big-style. My cheek is killing me. Can you believe that crazy f*cker bit a chunk out of my face? It’s still bleeding now and I feel well-sick.”

“I just want to sleep,” said Michelle. “I’m f*cking knackered and my face is mashed-up. Think I’ve lost a tooth. I guess that’s pretty hardcore, though.”

“You ain’t getting no sleep tonight, sweetheart,” said Damien, re-entering the lounge. “You and me are going upstairs.”

Michelle frowned at him. “The f*ck you talking about? I’m Frankie’s girl.”