ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror(57)

Frankie thrust the revolver forward, shoving the muzzle right up against Damien’s forehead. “Not another word! I’m warning you.”

Damien continued anyway and Davie dreaded what he was about to hear. “Your big tough bro here was the prison bitch for a whole year. Fell in bad with the top dogs when he arrived – mouthing off and acting like a gangster before he even knew the score. Spent the next year getting it up the shitter by half the guys on G Wing.”

“Bullshit,” said Davie. “You’re talking bollocks.”

Damien winked at Davie. “God’s honest truth, little man. When I arrived my dad’s rep was enough for me to be one of the top dogs straight away and I put a stop to all that stuff – shit-stabbin’ ain’t my thing, you get me? Your brother was so grateful that he offered to do anything in return. Just so happened that I needed some help shifting gear when I got out. The rest is history.”

“Is this all true?” Davie asked his brother. It seemed like he was going to go off like a firework; veins were bulging through the hot redness of his skin.

Frankie sniffed back a nose full of snot. “Guy’s full of it. He did me a few solids during our time together, that much is true. In fact the only reason he ain’t dead right now is because I owe him.”

“Owe me big time,” Damien added. “Big time.”

Frankie nodded. “Lucky for you, I honour my debts – but consider us even.”

Damien smiled behind the gun barrel. “Fair enough; guess I can let this slide. Say goodbye to your supply, though.”

“Whatever,” said Frankie. “Come on Davie. Let’s get the f*ck out of here.”

Still pointing the revolver at Damien’s face, Frankie backed out of the room. Davie followed after him, shell-shocked by what he’d just heard. There was every chance that Damien was just making shit up to mess with Frankie – Davie prayed that was the case. But if it was true…

Then my brother is messed up for good reason.

“Hey, Davie,” said Damien. “Don’t end up like your brother, okay?”

Davie said nothing. He left the room after Frankie and together they navigated the house’s long hallway towards the front door. Frankie turned the Yale lock and pulled down the handle. The door opened silently and the cold air of the afternoon hit Davie in the face like a punch, making his teeth ache.

“Getting cold,” he said, rubbing at his shoulders.

Frankie shrugged. “Going to be snow this year, apparently. Other things to worry about now, though.”

“No shit,” Davie agreed. Yet somehow he couldn’t help but think about the weather. Perhaps it would start snowing soon, but Davie had a feeling that before any snow started to fall there was going to be a storm of epic proportions.

And the first drops of rain had just started to fall.





Chapter Twenty-Two


Officers Wardsley and Dalton had refused Andrew’s request to locate Frankie for him. They didn’t want him taking the law into his own hands. So now he was sat at his wife’s bedside wondering what to do. It was approaching 5pm, the morning having come and gone in a whirlwind of grief and emotion. Bex was yet to wake up but the Doctors had assured Andrew she would soon – that her body was just taking the opportunity to rest. Pen’s condition was less optimistic.

Her surgery had ended a couple hours ago and she was now lying deathly still. Stitches and gauze covered her throat while a drip entered the artery of her right arm, supplying her body with whatever it was the Doctors thought it needed.

“I’ll make this right,” Andrew whispered to her. He grabbed her left hand tightly in his own, unsure of whether or not she could hear him. “I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done to you – for what they’ve done to Rebecca.”

Andrew sat for a while and listened to the silence, wishing beyond all hope that his wife would just sit up and say something. It wasn’t going to happen, though – might not ever again. Tears fell from Andrew’s eyes and stained the thin, white cotton sheets that covered his wife’s injured body.

“I failed you, Pen. I’m your husband and it’s my job to keep you safe. How can I ever forgive myself for any of this? If you die, how will I go on? I’ve loved you since the day we met. Life wouldn’t make sense without you.”

Andrew leant forward and laid his head against her stomach. He could hear her heart pumping – slow and steady – the pause between each beat a balancing act between life and death.