Relent

by Nina Levine

  He glanced at me. “Good.” That was King’s signature word to convey his pleasure at his directions being carried out. You never got much more than that from him.

  I left him to it, figuring Brittany now had less than fifteen minutes before her shift at the bar ended.

  I also figured we’d be getting new paint in here soon.

  ***

  I cut the engine of my bike and assessed the street. I’d never come to Bruno’s house to collect before. Usually, I visited the bar he frequented, but I’d gone there earlier and hadn’t found him so figured I’d give his home a shot. Bruno lived on a quiet street which was a good thing for me, and even more so today because there was no one around. Not that I really gave a fuck but it did make things easier when there were less witnesses to take care of.

  I left my bike and headed to the back door. I’d almost expected him to have a dog to harass me but he didn’t. His yard was a fucking mess of overgrown grass and rubbish that had just been dumped out the back. Filthy, junkie pig.

  The back door was unlocked which I’d been counting on. The number of idiots who left their back doors unlocked never failed to amaze me. I entered and the smell of pot hit me instantly. I fucking hoped he wasn’t entertaining; I really didn’t want to have to deal with more than him today.

  I’d entered through the laundry room, which then took me to a hallway and I followed that along until I came to the living room. Bruno sat on the couch staring at the television, sucking hard on his joint like he couldn’t get what he needed from it. He was so engrossed in the joint and the television he didn’t hear me approach.

  I walked behind the couch and smacked him on the back of his head. He jumped a fucking mile and almost propelled himself into the television before turning around to glare at me.

  “What the fuck, Kick?” he demanded, still clinging to that fucking joint as if it were worth a lot to him. I guessed it probably was. This dickhead had nothing in his life but drugs, debt and a whole lot of regret.

  I advanced on him and he must have read the look on my face clearly because worry crossed his and he began backing up to get away from me. “You think you can escape this?” I asked as I kept walking towards him.

  “Escape what?” he said on a beg. If there was one thing Bruno was good at, it was convincing himself his problems weren’t as bad as they were.

  I moved into his personal space, glaring down at him. “Escape the world of hurt you’re about to be in.”

  Terror filled his eyes. “No! I’ve got the money!”

  “Really? You expect me to believe that, Bruno? You never have the fuckin’ money.”

  His head bobbed up and down rapidly as he nodded at me. “I have it! It’s in my house...I’ll go and get it for you.”

  He attempted to move, and I raised my hand to grip his shoulder and halt him. “Not so fast, motherfucker. You don’t move unless I say you can move. We got that?”

  He gulped and sweat beaded on his forehead. As he moved his arm to wipe the sweat away, he agreed, “Yes.”

  I let go of his shoulder and asked, “Where is this money? What room?”

  “My bedroom.”

  I pulled my gun out and aimed it at his forehead. His eyes widened and I took in the accelerated rise and fall of his chest. “You lead the way, but the minute you don’t do as I say, I’ll shoot. And it won’t be to kill to start with. We clear?”

  He tripped over his words to get them out fast. “Yes, I get it, Kick, but there’s no need to - ”

  I pressed my gun hard against his forehead. “There’s always a need, Bruno. With dickheads like you, anyway. Now shut the fuck up and start fuckin’ walking.”

  He did as I said, and I followed closely behind as he led me to his bedroom. The house was a fucking mess with crap strewn all over the floors. His bedroom was no different. As he began rummaging through his drawers, the only sounds that could be heard in the house were the ticking of his bedside clock and his breaths that were coming hard and fast now.

  I moved to stand behind him and pressed the gun into his back. “I hope to fuck you’re not looking for a gun,” I said, not really expecting him to be that smart, but you just never fucking knew.

  He shook his head. “No, the money is in here somewhere. I’ve just got to find which socks I hid it in.”

  “You hid your money in your fuckin’ socks?”

  He turned his head to glare at me. “Well, where the hell else would I hide it, smartass?”

  “What the fuck did you just say to me?” I bellowed. Assholes like him annoyed the absolute fuck out of me. First, he was too stupid to keep his shit straight, then he had the balls to think he could get out of dealing with the consequences, and to top it off, he wanted to call me fucking names? Fuck that shit.

  The look of recognition that crossed his face was priceless. That moment when your target realises just how much shit they’re actually in never failed to pump excitement through my veins. “Shit, sorry, dude. I didn’t mean it.”

  I raised my gun and shot at the roof. What I really wanted to do was shoot him, but I needed to get that money first so the roof was the next best thing to hurry him along. Pointing the gun back at him, I roared, “Hurry the fuck up. I don’t have all day.”

  Sweat had started to take over his face and his shirt stuck to the sweat on his body. He began rummaging faster until, eventually, he located the cash. Dragging it out of his sock faster than a virgin ejaculated, he shoved it at me. “Take it!”

  “Calm the fuck down,” I suggested as I took the wads of twenties and tens from him. “And let’s move this to your kitchen table so I can count it.” He owed us six grand and I wanted to make sure it was all here before I took care of him.

  Once he’d given it all to me, he began walking to the kitchen. I indicated for him to sit at the table and then I sat opposite him and started counting. He surprised the hell out of me by managing to keep his mouth shut while I did this. Bruno usually babbled shit the whole time when I came to collect cash.

  I counted slowly. The bastard had come out in me today and I enjoyed feeling his fear while he waited for me to finish.

  He was fifty bucks short.

  I glared at him before pointing my gun at his foot and shooting.

  He screamed out in pain as blood started going everywhere. Wild eyes landed on mine and he yelled out, “Why the fuck did you do that?”

  “You’re short,” I said calmly, leaning back into my chair and extending my leg out to stretch it.

  “Well, you should have just said so. I’ve got more!” His face had contorted in pain and he gripped his leg tightly. Sweat now poured down his face and his clothes were a wet, sweaty mess.

  “I shouldn’t have to fuckin’ say so, Bruno. You should know by now that when I come to collect my money I want all of it. What I don’t want is to be fucked around.”

  “It’s hardly fucking you around, asshole,” he muttered. “How was I to know that sock was fifty bucks short?”

  I shot his other foot and watched him writhe in pain. “Where the fuck is the rest of your money stashed? And don’t screw me around anymore,” I demanded.

  He struggled to get the words out. Jerking his chin at the kitchen pantry, he stuttered, “In there, top shelf in the brown container at the back.”

  Pushing my chair back, I raised my brows and said, “Funny how bullets encourage honesty, isn’t it?”

  “Fuck you,” he spat out, clearly not giving a shit if he pissed me off anymore.

  I ignored him and reached up into the cupboard in search of the brown container. My eyes widened in surprise when I opened it. I whistled and murmured, “Fuck me, Bruno. You’ve been holding out on me.”

  There had to be twenty grand in here.

  “Just take fifty and leave me the fuck alone.”

  My gaze flicked to him. Was he deluded? “You really think I’m gonna walk out of here today without this cash?”

  His fight wasn’t gone. “I swear to fucking God,
Kick, if you take my money I will hunt you down for it.”

  I chuckled and cocked my head to the side, giving him a questioning look. “You really think you’ll be alive to hunt me down?”

  Finally, he realised the depth of shit he was in today. He pushed his chair back and attempted to stand. I watched as he collapsed onto the floor, his body twisting in pain as he did so.

  I walked to him and looked down over him. “You’ve been screwing our club around for years now, motherfucker, and my president is finally done with you. And besides, you’re a junkie criminal who preys on the fuckin’ elderly and disabled so I’d be ridding the world of a scumbag we can do without.”

  Hi voice pleaded with me. “Take the money, Kick. You’ll never hear from me again. And I promise not to rob or hurt those people anymore.” His meaningless words fell out of his mouth. I knew they meant nothing, because Bruno was a creature of habit and he’d never made good on any of his promises before.

  “It’s too late for more shitty promises.” I looked around his kitchen. “I won’t miss chasing you for cash. Between the dive of a bar you drink your life away in and this dump, you’ve really outdone yourself in life.”

  He spat at my feet before giving me a filthy look. “Fuck you!”

  I pointed my gun at his forehead and pulled the trigger.

  He fell backwards as blood went everywhere.

  I pointed the gun at his chest and fired three more bullets into him. Just to be certain King got his wish to never have to deal with him again.

  Then I grabbed the money from the brown container, and the money off the table, stashed it in my jacket and left the way I’d come in.

  Bruno’s body may not be discovered for days, weeks even, depending on the stench it caused. He had no family or real friends I was aware of, and in the world we lived in, no one gave much of a shit about anyone unless you were part of a club or gang. Bruno belonged to no one and so no one would care.

  That was the cold hard truth of our world.

  ***

  Two hours later, after I’d been home and sorted Bruno’s cash out and then delivered King’s amount to him, I pulled up at the cemetery. I had no idea why, but I’d felt the pull there. It wasn’t where Jeremy was, his family had organised for him to be cremated. As I left my bike and began walking across the grass, it hit me.

  Shelly’s here.

  I’d almost made it to her grave when a little old lady stumbled and fell on the path in front of me. She landed on her knees and struggled to get back up again. I quickly walked to her so I could kneel down and help her up.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, assessing her to see if she’d done much damage.

  Her eyes came to mine and while I saw a small amount of pain there, she smiled. “I’m a silly old fool,” she said softly, “I’m always falling over these days but I haven’t hurt myself. If you could just help me up, I’ll keep going.”

  She raised her arms and I placed my hands under her shoulders and helped her up. A little unsteady on her feet to start with, she regained her balance, but I kept hold of her until I could verify she wouldn’t fall again.

  “Can you stand on your own now?” I asked, watching her intently to make sure she could.

  Nodding, she said, “Yes, I’ll be fine. Thank you for your help. It’s hard to find good people like you these days.”

  I ignored her incorrect assumption about me being good and slowly let her go. When I could see she was all right on her own, I asked, “Where’s your car?”

  She gave me a smile. “I can manage on my own.”

  I shook my head and reached for her elbow to help guide her. “No, I want to make sure you get there without falling again.”

  “Thank you. Even my own son doesn’t look out for me like this,” she murmured as we began walking.

  The journey to her car took some time because she couldn’t walk very fast, but that was okay with me. I was just glad when we got there and she hadn’t fallen. Once I had her settled in the car, I shut her door and stepped back. She smiled and gave me a wave as she drove off. I stood lost in my thoughts while I watched her go, and didn’t hear the approaching footsteps on the gravel.

  “Kick?”

  I spun around.

  Evie.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked before I said anything.

  “I really don’t know.” In that moment, I felt lost. Suddenly, and out of nowhere, I felt alone in this world, like I had no one in my corner.

  Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me?

  She frowned. “Are you okay?”

  I scrubbed my face and blinked my eyes a couple of times. “Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck it is, but I’m okay.”

  The hardness she tended to look at me with these days eased a little and she said, “It’s Jeremy’s death, I’d say. I feel the same way.”

  I didn’t say anything, just stood and watched her. Fuck, I could watch her forever and never grow tired. She seemed so vulnerable at the moment, though, and I wanted to wrap her in my arms, but I knew that would be a bad move so I kept my arms by my side and stayed silent.

  Her body relaxed and she raked her fingers through her long hair. “Why did you two have that falling out years ago?”

  She caught me off guard. I hadn’t been expecting that. My body stiffened and I blew out a long breath. “It’s a long story, Evie, and there’s no point rehashing it. What’s done is done, and Jeremy’s gone so I can’t fuckin’ fix it now.”

  “I feel like whatever happened between you two had something to do with me, and I hate that. I hate thinking that I came between you guys.”

  Fuck.

  I hated the tinge of sadness I could hear in her voice, and the way her body slumped.

  “It wasn’t your fault. We were just stubborn assholes and couldn’t see past a disagreement. It was a fuckin’ waste of a good friendship and if I could go back and change it, I would. Instead, I have to live with it now. Live with the fact I fucked up.”

  She shifted on her feet and slung her handbag over her shoulder. “Okay, I can respect that, and I’m glad it wasn’t because of me.” She took a step away from me and added, “I’ll catch you, Kick. I’m gonna go visit Shelly now.”

  I’ll catch you, Kick.

  Those fucking words warmed my heart.

  “See you, baby.”

  She blessed me with one last smile and then headed towards Shelly’s grave.

  Fuck, that shit with Jeremy would haunt me for the rest of my life.

  ***

  Kick

  30 years old – 5 years ago

  “What the fuck are you doing, asshole?” Jeremy’s thunderous voice echoed around the room. He’d just barged into my house and we stood glaring at each other in my living room. I knew why he was here.

  Evie.

  She and I had just gotten back together, so of course he was in my face.

  He loved her as much as I did.

  I glared at him. “I’m fucking the woman I love, and, one day, I’m gonna make her my wife. I walked away from her once and I’m not gonna let anything or anyone come between us again. I’m not gonna let you come between us again.”

  His fist connected with my jaw a moment later, and I stumbled back, caught by surprise. Jeremy and I had never had a physical fight before. I held my jaw as he roared, “How the fuck can you talk about Evie like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “I asked you what you’re doing, and you say you’re fucking her? What kind of a pig are you, anyway, Kick? Most men would say they’re dating her, not fucking her.”

  I spat out some blood and reminded him I wasn’t like most men. “I’m an asshole, remember? That’s how assholes obviously speak.”

  “You were never an asshole before, Kick. Storm has made you that way and I fail to grasp what Evie sees in you.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not Evie, then. Don’t try and come between us, Jeremy. I swear to fuckin’ God, if you do . . . if you fuck
this up for us, it won’t be pretty between you and me.”

  He fumed. His body tensed as if he was about to punch me again and the vein in his neck pulsed. “Things haven’t been pretty between us for a while now and this is the end of it for me, unless you walk away from her.”

  What the fuck?

  “You’re fuckin’ kidding me! You’d throw our friendship away over this?”

  “No, Kick, you pretty much threw our friendship away when you joined Storm. When you sold your soul to the devil and said to hell with everything and everyone. If you drag Evie into that world, I will spend the rest of my days fighting to get her out of it.”

  I moved closer to him. Into his face. “I suggest you get the hell out of my house and never come back. I never want to see your face again,” I snarled, my eyes boring into his, screaming at him how much I meant every fucking word I’d said.

  I was done with him.

  He stood rooted to the spot for a moment, his eyes searching mine. I saw it. I saw the moment where he decided he was done, too. Something flashed in his eyes and he took a step away from me. “Done,” he snapped. And then he added, “If you love her like you say you do, you won’t drag her down with you. You won’t give her a life of shit and grime. Think about that.”

  And then he was gone.

  And I’d been thinking about that for five fucking years.

  I’d let those thoughts convince me to walk away three years ago, but the pull to her was too strong to resist any longer.

  As much as I now believed every word Jeremy had spoken to be true, I was a selfish bastard and wanted Evie with me.

  I couldn’t deny it even if I tried.

  Chapter Five

  Evie

  Despair swirled around me, and the four walls of the room closed in on me as my father admitted his latest fuck up to me. As I stood in his sorry excuse for a home, I squeezed my eyes shut and wished we could go back nineteen years and change the course of history. Change the fact he lived alone with threadbare carpets, worn couches with holes in them, clothes that hung off him because he didn’t care about eating, a career he’d let go of, and a fucking gambling addiction that ruined any chance of changing and improving his life.