Festive Dog

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Festive Dog Page 1

by Louise Collins




  Chapter 1

  Hell – there was no other word to describe it. Jake was one song away from throwing himself through a window. There was no variety to the playlist in Stationary Corner, and Christmas music played over and over.

  As soon as Halloween ended, the festive period was flung in Jake’s face. The same tattered tinsel as the year before. The same thin Christmas tree that resembled a horror prop and the stale and damp smell that accompanied it. He had literally pulled the short straw and had to climb into the ceiling space to get it. He'd sneezed more in the following twenty-four hours after reclaiming the tree, than his entire twenty-two years of existence, and for three days after, dust itched his throat.

  “You do know it’s Christmas, right?”

  The third time Jake had heard those words that day. The first time he'd forced a laugh, the second time he'd shot a fleeting smile, but the third time, he stabbed at the till extra hard, flaring his nostrils.

  “Is it?” he snapped. “Never would’ve guessed from the tree, tinsel and baubles, the fake snow sprayed on the window and the elf costume I’m being forced to wear.”

  It was a hideous outfit. He'd gotten there late that morning and had been left the elf. Stupid green t-shirt, and hat with a jingly bell. Rachel had further humiliated him by drawing two red circles on his cheeks with a marker pen.

  The woman recoiled from the counter, shaking her head in disgust. “No need to be rude.”

  “No need to state the obvious, but you did,” he said back with sassy head movements that jingled his bell.

  “Jake!”

  The bellow had his head sagging forward and he muttered a ‘shit’ under his breath. He turned towards Sam, vision blurring as he focused on the wagging finger in his face.

  “The elf’s had a hard day in Santa’s workshop,” Sam said to the woman before tugging Jake away from the cash machine. “Go re-stock the shelves.”

  He nodded at his boss, amazed he could still greet the customers with smiles and god-awful Christmas puns.

  Sam was halfway to Santa Clause with the white hair on his head and his rosy red cheeks. A Santa Clause that age had caught up with, creases in his skin and a jitteriness in his limbs.

  Jake dragged his feet down the aisles and huffed at the tacky Christmas gifts.

  Each year his only Christmas cards were from his colleagues, and each year he didn’t return any. There was nothing joyous about Christmas, and their good wishes felt like mocking. They had families to spend time with, partners, friends, and parents. Jake had an all-in-one Christmas dinner to prise from a tin and warm in a microwave.

  Every Christmas Sam invited him for dinner and Jake always declined. There was nothing more humiliating than spending Christmas with his boss, surrounded by people that were no relation to him. He made an excuse, said he was spending the day with friends, but Sam always saw straight through his lies and gave him a comforting pat.

  Christmas was always a shit time of year for Jake, except that year it would be different. He was spending the day with Maddox, not that he celebrated the festive season.

  There was no tree set up in his house, no baubles or tinsel, just the same moody themed interior. Jake had suggested getting some brighter art work for the walls. Maddox had glared until Jake surrendered and praised the colour scheme of his house.

  Jake actually had someone to spend the day with, and that left him with other anxieties. He didn’t quite know how to define their relationship, but he didn’t feel right not getting Maddox a gift.

  But what could he possibly buy the man who had everything? Jake spied in the bags of the customers for ideas. The men favoured teddy-bears with hearts, and he shuddered at the soppiness. He and Maddox were definitely not lovey-dovey like that. Jake sought inspiration from the women shoppers, but the majority of them walked in with lingerie branded bags. They opted for sex over romance, and although Jake knew Maddox would be satisfied with that present, he didn’t want to cross that line. Once he dressed in lacy underwear, Maddox would expect him to wear it all the time.

  He sighed while replenishing the rows of diaries. He didn’t know why the diary was a popular present, imagined half of them were abandoned after January. Everyone started the new year with the best intentions, but few lasted past February still optimistic about life.

  “Excuse me…”

  Jake stilled, then moved his attention to the man beside him. “How can I help?”

  The man gestured to the diary in his hand. The smell of leather rolled from it, and gold trim covered the edges of each page. “Is this the most expensive diary you sell?”

  Jake studied the man in front of him. Suited, styled, and a badge with the words manager and the bank he worked at. A flashy watch circled his wrist, shimmering jewellery fastened the cuffs of his shirt and a huge gold ring was on display as he held the diary. Jake had no luck getting inspiration from his customers, but he could always rely on himself. He could steal an expensive gift for Maddox and get a shot of adrenaline to go with it.

  Jake hummed himself back to attention. “Yes, that’s our luxury range.”

  The man opened the book, flicking through the pages with a frown. Jake watched, eyes jumping from each gleaming possession. What to steal? The ring, although shiny and expensive looking, had initials engraved, and they weren’t MH, not to mention there was no guarantee it would fit, no.

  The watch, Maddox already favoured one, one which Jake slipped from his wrist on more than one occasion to get a growling reaction.

  That left the cufflinks, but Maddox had buttons on the end of his sleeves and Jake doubted he would appreciate the superman insignia.

  The man slapped his hand on the diary and Jake jolted to attention. “Do you have anything that can be personalised?”

  Jake shrugged. “You could write a name inside, what’s more personal than that?”

  “That’s not what I meant…”

  “Then no, all of them have diary written on the front, all of them display the days for next year…”

  The man huffed and turned his back. Jake’s opportunity slipped from his grasp. The man shoved the inadequate diary on the shelf and walked away. Not the ring, watch, or cufflinks, but a man like that would have money, a fat wallet overflowing with cash. Jake’s feet started to move, and he shadowed the man to the door of the shop. Back pocket, the wallet bulged in the man’s black trousers. Easy to pick-pocket from that position, to tap the man’s shoulder and suggest another product, walk him back into the shop with an arm around his back, fake a trip or a bump from another customer and the wallet was Jake’s.

  A hand closed on his shoulder, and he was yanked back with his outstretched arm flailing.

  “Don’t even think about it.” The voice sniggered.

  Jake shrugged the hand away, spinning around to glare at Carl. “What you do that for?”

  Carl rolled his eyes. “You know why, I saw you eyeing him up, and for your sake I hope it was the wallet that interested you not the man himself, or the boss will whip your arse.”

  There was another difference that Christmas, Stationary Corner had a new employee. Much to Jake’s annoyance, Maddox was paying Carl to babysit him. It could’ve been worse. Tom and Amber flashed in his mind, making him shudder. But still, Carl watching his every move irritated the hell out of him.

  “You wanna get locked up today of all days? It’s Christmas Eve.”

  Jake pushed past. “Wouldn’t have got caught.”

  He stomped into the staff room, hoping Carl would get the hint and leave him be, but he didn’t, or he did and didn’t care. Carl called back to Sam they were taking their break and followed through the swinging door.

  “Where’s your Christmas cheer?”

  Jake threw himself into a chair
and yanked the elf hat off his head. “I’m all out of Christmas cheer, thank god it ends tomorrow.”

  Carl pursed his lips and sat down in the opposite chair. “You gunna tell me what’s up?”

  “Nothing.” Jake snapped, turning to stare at the wall rather than Carl’s amused face.

  “You can’t need the money, Maddox wouldn’t let you go without if you wanted something.”

  There was no one else in the room, otherwise Carl would not have mentioned Maddox. It was odd hearing the name from Carl's lips. He only ever said ‘boss’ in Maddox’s presence.

  “It’s not about money.” Jake hissed at the wall.

  It was true, he only had to ask and Maddox would give him some, but that wasn’t the point. He couldn’t get a gift using Maddox’s money, it was on him.

  “So…it’s the excitement of getting caught?” Carl said, tapping his chin.

  Jake shook his head. Maddox fulfilled his adrenaline addiction with a different kind of excitement. Stealing the wallet would’ve given him a small dose, but incomparable to Maddox.

  “What is it then?”

  Jake snorted, and turned his attention back to Carl. He hadn’t been forced into an elf costume like him, but a reindeer’s face was printed on his t shirt and antlers poked out of his dark hair. He had dyed his naturally blond strands, but when Jake had asked why, Carl only shrugged in reply.

  “It’s Christmas tomorrow-”

  “No shit.” Carl said before holding his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, keep going…”

  “It’s traditional to get a gift for someone right? Like a present…”

  Carl widened his eyes, his lips parted and a laugh burst out of his reddening face.

  Jake throttled the elf hat in his hand and threw it in the shaking man’s direction. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything…”

  Carl waved his hands, slowing his laugh to a stop, “Sorry, I’m sorry… He doesn’t give a shit about Christmas; do you even know Maddox?”

  Do you even know Maddox?

  Jake’s scrunched expression relaxed at those words, and a coldness expanded in his chest. No, that was the answer. Maddox kept himself to himself. Each time Jake asked about him, needing something, he received a warning glare and stuttered to change the subject.

  “I don’t know him, do I…” Jake whispered.

  “Hey…” Carl’s voice softened, and he no longer grinned at Jake’s expense. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and the boss, none of us do, but he’s got me working here to keep an eye on you, he has cameras set up along your route home and in your flat. He wants to keep you safe, and he won’t care about a gift on Christmas day, you're enough of one for him.”

  “I just…I don’t know anything about him.” Jake muttered to his fidgeting hands.

  Carl scrunched his nose. “That’s not quite true, is it…”

  He stared at Carl, beckoning with his hand for him to elaborate. Carl sighed, shuffling to the edge of his chair and Jake did the same, leaning in.

  “He killed a guy to save you.”

  Jake threw himself back into the seat with a huff. He knew Maddox had finished Richie, but that was the only information they'd told him. They'd arrived, and Maddox had sorted his rival out once and for all. When Jake had asked how the wrinkled old man died, Maddox had told him it was none of his concern.

  Carl didn’t sink back into his seat, he stayed forward and a frown cut through his brow.

  “What?” Jake snapped.

  Carl ignored his bratty tone and continued to speak softly, quietly even though no one else was in the room.

  “You were being strangled when we got there, Maddox ran from his car…. he smashed Richie’s head into the concrete and his skull exploded like a watermelon.”

  Jake’s mouth opened but no words followed. He knew he had been strangled, remembered that pain and the compression suddenly vanishing, but he didn’t see what Maddox had done to Richie. Couldn’t imagine a skull breaking and splitting.

  Carl smacked his lips with a grimace, as if remembering the taste of something unpleasant. “It wasn’t a pretty sight Jake, and afterwards Lewis and I tracked down all Richie’s men that had seen your face, and Maddox ensured their silence too.”

  Jake’s throat closed in and he swallowed to relieve the ache. Maddox had killed for him, with his bare hands.

  The door swung open and Rachel rushed into the room. Carl leaned back, serious expression gone and replaced by his open one. In Rachel's hands was a tray of mince pies. Carl perked up, shooting from his seat.

  “What you got there?” he asked with his nostrils expanding.

  Rachel swung towards him, and her cheeks burst with red pigment. Dressed as an angel, the tinsel halo sparkling on her head complimented her silver eyeshadow.

  “They-they're from the bakery across the street, I got one for all of us.”

  Carl hummed, a sound of pure ecstasy as his eyes roamed the treats. Rachel placed them on the table, still pulsing red, and swept her hair behind her ears.

  “You like them?” she asked Carl.

  He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what Christmas is about, the food.”

  Jake shook his head. “I think Jesus has something to do with it…”

  “Yeah,” Carl said in a bored tone, “Christmas…it’s about the big feast he had with all his men.”

  “Nooo,” Jake said, narrowing his eyes, “that’s not it.”

  Carl turned towards the still blushing Rachel. “Isn’t that right? It’s about a big feast…”

  She nodded at Carl's coaxing. “Yeah, Jesus had a big feast.”

  “Thank you.” Carl said, picking out the biggest mince pie, “see Rachel knows what Christmas is about…”

  She smiled, all giddy, with sparkling eyes before Sam’s voice boomed her name beyond the door.

  “Oh,” she said, rushing out of the staff room.

  Carl sat back down, biting into the mince pie, still smiling.

  “You know what the story of Christmas is right?”

  Carl lifted his eyebrow and swallowed his mouthful. “Course I do.”

  Jake narrowed his eyes and Carl grinned in reply, then sank his teeth back in the pie.

  The rest of the shift droned on, and Jake hated the excitement in all his colleagues, all smiling even though they had said ‘have a good Christmas’ about a hundred times that day. Sam kept him on stock; the elf was far too moody to serve customers.

  Carl was on the till at the counter, grinning and polite. He flicked his head towards Jake and the woman he served looked over.

  “Look,” Carl called for Jake to hear, “It’s an elf stacking a shelf…”

  The woman laughed, the other customers in the queue joined in, but Jake glared, and his eye twitched with anger.

  “Look,” he said pointed towards them, “it’s a reindeer serving an…an old dear.”

  The queue rocked back on their heels, the woman scowled, and Carl pressed his lips together holding a laugh.

  “Jesus Jake,” Carl breathed a few seconds after the awkwardness had passed. “This present problem is really getting to you, isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s just Christmas, I hate it…”

  Carl rolled his eyes and laughed.

  Chapter 2

  The worst shift of the year had ended and Jake sighed in pure relief. He breezed into the staff room and threw the elf hat in the bin. The others squawked at his anti-Christmas protest but he didn’t care, would’ve stripped off the elf t-shirt too if it hadn’t been so cold. He zipped up his jacket, mumbled a happy Christmas that dripped with loathing, then strolled to the front of the shop.

  The street bustled with the late shoppers, and like the thieving predator he was, his eyes tracked their movements. Christmas Eve, a pick-pockets paradise, but there was nothing that screamed out Maddox to him. He lingered outside shops, wondering what Maddox would appreciate, but no inspiration came.

  “Shit,” he muttered, leaning forward and pressing
his forehead to a window.

  “How about a nice big hamper?”

  Jake breathed deep through his nose and turned to face the man who’d been shadowing him. Carl wasn’t watching him; his gaze was stuck to the food delicacy shop. His lips smacked together, and his throat bobbed with phantom swallows.

  “Is there not somewhere you're supposed to be?” Jake asked.

  Carl shrugged. “Sure, but the boss pays me to keep an eye on you. Right now, you're looking shifty as fuck. I’m just doing my job…”

  “By stalking me.”

  “Yup,” Carl said with a smile, “that’s about the gist of it…”

  “So you’re gunna follow me around here?”

  Carl bobbed his head. “Yeah, until you give up on this present idea and go see the boss.”

  “So if I walk up there, you’ll walk up there,” he said, pointing up the street.

  Carl looked in the direction his finger pointed and nodded. “That’s kind’ve how following someone works.”

  “And if I run down there, you’ll run down there too.”

  Jake’s eyebrows jumped and Carl’s mocking attitude was swept off his face. “Don’t run-”

  “Following, kinda like chasing isn’t it…and I love being chased.”

  “Jake!” Carl snapped in warning, but it was too late.

  Jake’s heart quickened, his skin prickled and the addictive buzz took over. He ran, light on his toes as he skipped around, dodged in and out of people with Carl stomping after him with no grace. His name was growled, before growls gave way to desperate pants.

  Losing Carl was embarrassingly easy, and Jake slowed his run and slipped down a side alley. The short burst of adrenaline was followed by a sagging drop of hollowness.

  He was no closer to figuring out what to get Maddox, and he hung his head as he thought bitterly about how little he knew about the man he was to spend Christmas with.

  Except, he did know some things…Maddox drank whiskey, chucked the amber liquid back like a pro. He smoked fat cigars and blew the grey smoke towards the ceiling after sex, and above all else, Maddox loved classical music. It flowed through the house, sometimes calm and soft, other times blaring and dramatic.

 

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