ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror(53)

“Exactly,” said Damien, “and Frankie owes me. Consider yourself rent for the bunch of you staying here. You may be a bit of a bruised-up mess but you’ll do, I suppose.”

“No f*cking way! Frankie wouldn’t let anyone else have me.”

Frankie entered the room and Damien winked at him. “Is that right Frankie? Seems your woman is playing hard to get.”

“Just get your ass upstairs,” Frankie told Michelle. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Michelle glanced around the room as if looking for someone to add something else to the conversation, but the twins just shrugged at her and Davie wasn’t about to offer any assistance either. Far as he was concerned, Michelle had done far worse in the time he’d known her. Maybe it was about time for her to learn a lesson.

Michelle stood up, looking confused but unable to find an argument. She turned to Damien. “You serious? You want me to go upstairs and f*ck you?”

Damien laughed. “Oh no, sweetheart, I’m going to be the one f*cking you.” He offered out his hand and Michelle took it. Damien turned to Frankie and winked. “I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and that other favour you needed from me…you’ll find it in a box beneath the sofa. Have fun, kids.”

“You too,” said Frankie, although he didn’t seem to mean it.

“Oh, I will,” said Damien as he disappeared with Michelle.

Frankie collapsed down onto the sofa and kicked off his trainers, letting out a loud sigh as a tired breath escaped his lips.

Davie looked at his brother and waited for him to say something, but it appeared that he was quite content to go straight to sleep. Apparently murder and mayhem wasn’t enough to keep Frankie awake.

Davie asked him a question. “Are you okay with Damien hitting your girl?”

Frankie didn’t move or even open his eyelids as he spoke. “I was the one that suggested it, bro. Easy way to settle a debt, innit?”

“She’s your bird, though.”

“Fuck Shell! She’s happy as long as she’s got coke in her nose and a cock up her ass. Who gives a shit?”

“Didn’t look like she wanted to go,” said Dom. “Look on her face was classic.”

The sound of frantic f*cking suddenly emanated from above them. The ceiling began to vibrate and the light fixtures swung back and forth. Two voices could be heard moaning in ecstasy – both Damien’s and Michelle’s.

“She sounds alright to me,” said Frankie. “Now everyone just get their heads down for a few hours. I can’t be doing with anymore thinking right now. We’ll sort shit out in the morning. I’ll make some calls and get a few ears to the ground – see what’s happening.”

Everyone seemed more than happy to oblige. It had been a long and frantic night for all of them and no one wanted to get some shuteye more than Davie. Before he did, though, he had one last question for his big brother.

“What’s in a box under the sofa, Frankie?”

Frankie’s voice was dreamy, already half-asleep. “You’ll find out in the morning, little bro.” Then he was fast asleep and snoring. It was a long time before Davie managed to join him. The sound of Michelle getting f*cked upstairs kept him awake for hours.





Chapter Twenty


The nurses made Andrew wait outside in the empty corridor while Pen and Bex were rushed into separate operating theatres. Nurses now flitted back and forth between the two rooms, glancing apprehensively at Andrew each time they passed by him. Their expressions were always grim and pitying. A bad sign.

Andrew’s own wounds – serious in their own right – needed looking at too, but he had refused anyone that tried to take him away. He was unwilling to move until he knew the fate of his family.

If only he could take their place. If Andrew died, Pen and Bex would still have each other, but if they died, then Andrew would have nothing to live for anyway – his life would remain an empty husk forever, containing nothing more than the memories of things torn away from him.

Frankie will pay for this, one way or another.

“Mr Goodman?”

Andrew looked up to see a pair of familiar faces. He smiled at them as best he could. “Officers, what are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” said Dalton. “We’ve had reports of multiple stabbings. A man, his daughter, and wife.”

“We were really hoping it wasn’t you,” said Wardsley, shaking his head solemnly, “but we had a bad feeling.”