45% Hangover [A Logan and Steel novella]

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45% Hangover [A Logan and Steel novella] Page 6

by Stuart MacBride


  ‘I am no’ short! Perfectly normal size for a Scottish woman.’

  ‘Keep telling yourself that.’ Logan stuck his free leg out of the bed and put his foot on the floor. Pushed. Nothing happened. A second time, harder this time, and the bed frame creaked, then shifted half an inch to the right. Big brass bed with two fully grown adults in it – of course it was going to be a sod to shift. Especially with only one leg.

  ‘Hoy!’ Steel hit him. ‘Stop shoogling about. Sodding handcuff keeps digging into my wrist.’

  Again. Gritting his teeth and shoving.

  ‘Ow! What did I just tell you?’

  He stopped and stared at her. ‘I’m trying to move the bed, that OK with you?’

  ‘No’ if I end up with a broken wrist, it isn’t.’

  ‘God’s sake … Fine.’ He took hold of her hand, lacing the fingers together. ‘Happy now? This way it won’t tug at your delicate skin.’ Logan dug his heel in and pushed.

  She peered over the edge of the bed. ‘What exactly are you trying to achieve?’

  ‘If we can get to the wardrobe, there’ll be clothes. That OK with you?’

  Another shove. Another half inch. And already the muscle in his thigh was shouting at him. One more shove and it was screaming.

  ‘Going to take all sodding week at this rate.’ She stared at the window. ‘What time do you think it is?’

  ‘How should I know …’ A final push and he slumped back, panting, leg dangling. Just going to have to take it in stages. They’d probably moved about as far as a fun-sized Mars Bar.

  ‘Supposed to be back on shift at five.’

  ‘Good for you.’ He dug his heel in and pushed again.

  ‘Someone’s going to notice we’re missing.’

  If anything it was getting harder. ‘Come on you wee sod …’ Maybe the rug was bunching up under the bed’s legs?

  ‘And then they’ll come running. Batter the door down. Barge in here with their …’ She slapped a hand over her eyes. ‘Nooooo. They’ll see me in the nip. In bed. With you.’

  ‘How? How will they even know where we are? You were half-cut to start with. They’ll think you’re just hungover and copping a sicky.’

  ‘I am hungover.’

  ‘And whose fault is that?’

  ‘Oh shut up.’

  ‘You shut up.’

  Another push. More panting. One more … and cramp tightened like a fist around his calf, twisting the muscle into a burning knot trying to rip its way free of the bone. ‘Aaaaaagh.’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake. Stop it.’ Steel thumped her other hand against his chest. ‘Not getting anywhere.’

  The pain tightened again. He had to force the words out between clenched teeth. ‘Well I don’t see you doing anything.’

  She stared at the ceiling. ‘Fine.’ Then a deep breath. ‘Close your eyes. And keep them closed till I tell you. Because if you even think of peeking …’

  ‘Why would I want to peek? Bad enough imagining it, never mind seeing it for real!’

  ‘Close your sodding eyes!’

  He did, and the duvet shifted as Steel slipped out of the bed. He grabbed hold of his half and held on tight before it slipped and everything was on show.

  Her feet made a soft slapping sound as they hit the floor. ‘Stark, bare-arsed naked and handcuffed to a man. Never been so embarrassed in my life.’

  Then there was some grunting. Some swearing. And finally the bedframe shifted, moaning in time to Steel’s heaves. Groan. Squeal. Groan. Squeal. Groan—

  A clunk from the other side of the room and a man’s voice. ‘What …?’

  Logan’s eyes snapped open.

  Alec Hadden stood in the doorway, mouth hanging open, a newspaper tucked under one arm and a bottle of water in the other.

  ‘Aagh!’ Then Steel leapt back into bed, burrowing under the duvet as if her life depended on it. But not quick enough to protect Logan from an eyeful.

  He shuddered. Oh God …

  Her cold skin slapped against his leg, then she recoiled to the edge of the bed, taking as much of the duvet with her as possible.

  Logan held on for grim death.

  She let go of his hand.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Alec stepped into the room. Closed the door behind him.

  Steel stuck her head above the covers. ‘WHERE THE HELL ARE MY CLOTHES?’

  ‘Ah.’ He settled down on the edge of the bed, shoulders drooped, head bowed. ‘They’re in the wash. You were sick, like, everywhere. I mean on the car seat, in the footwell, on yourself, on your friend here. Everywhere.’ A shrug. ‘So I bunged everything in the washing machine.’

  ‘YOU SAW ME NAKED!’

  ‘Only for a little bit.’ A sigh. Then he took out the newspaper and held it up. The headline ‘UNION BACK’ sat over a big union jack flag. A shocked Salmond in one corner, a smug looking Cameron in the other. Alec gave another big, theatrical sigh. ‘Forty-five percent “Yes”, fifty-five percent “No”, and they’re calling it a decisive victory. How? How is that decisive? Yeah, it’s a decision, but that’s all it is.’

  Steel jabbed a finger in his direction. ‘You just abducted two police officers, sunshine. You think that’s a good idea?’

  ‘Now they’re talking about backing out of all that Devo-Max stuff they promised. It’s rash. It was unwise. England won’t let Scotland have anything if they don’t get what they want first.’

  ‘Listen up, chuckles: you’re no’ getting away with this. They’ll already be out there looking for us. How long do you think it’s going to take them to kick in your door, eh?’

  ‘They lied to the Scottish people. They laid out this bowl full of promises: more power, more influence, more money, and now Westminster wants to take it all back.’

  Logan shuffled as far up the bed as he could. Which wasn’t far with the handcuff fastening his right leg to the frame. ‘Politicians lie, Alec. It’s what they do. Not exactly a shocker, is it?’

  ‘We could have been free …’

  ‘I know it’s disappointing, but it’s the way it is. This is what democracy looks like. You just have to accept it, put it behind you, and move on.’

  He turned and stared out of the window. ‘Why should we? Why shouldn’t we arm ourselves and take back our country? Referendum didn’t work. It’s time for revolution.’

  Steel grabbed a pillow and battered it off Alec’s head. ‘Don’t be so sodding wet.’

  ‘Don’t—’

  ‘Unlock these handcuffs, now.’

  ‘You’ll arrest me.’

  She looked at Logan. Then at Alec, eyebrows up. ‘Of course we’ll sodding arrest you! What did you think was going to happen? You abduct two police officers, you strip them, and you chain them to the bloody bed, did you think we’d bake you a cake?’

  Logan held up his other hand. ‘OK, OK, let’s all calm down. No one’s starting a revolution, and no one’s arresting anyone.’ He pointed at the handcuffs around his ankle. ‘Alec, can you unlock them, please? They’re cutting off circulation to my foot.’

  ‘I don’t understand why everything went wrong.’ He dropped the paper on the bed. Ran a hand through his long brown hair. ‘I didn’t want any of this. I just wanted …’ His bottom lip trembled. ‘I didn’t mean to hit you. I just … I panicked. I didn’t …’

  Steel rolled her eyes. ‘Oh in the name of the wee man. Don’t be such a big girl’s blouse.’ She shook her fist, making the handcuffs rattle against the brass bars of the headboard. ‘Unlock these things and we’ll talk about maybe getting you into a nice low-security prison.’

  Alec licked his lips. Opened his mouth …

  Whatever he was about to say, it was stopped by the sound of a doorbell somewhere on a lower floor.

  Alec stood. ‘I have to go.’

  ‘Unlock these sodding handcuffs!’

  But Alec didn’t. Instead he stood. Chucked the paper onto the duvet. ‘In case you get bored.’ Then he grabbed Logan’s side of the bed and dra
gged the thing back into the middle of the room. ‘Don’t move it again. You’re scratching the floorboards.’ He turned and marched out, closing the door behind him. The thump was followed by the click of a key turning in its lock.

  Logan thumped back into his pillow. Then winced as the lumps on the back of his head got squished. ‘Oh very clever. That was a spectacular bit of hostage negotiation, that was.’

  ‘Kiss my—’

  ‘You don’t threaten the person you’re negotiating with! Yeah, let us free so we can arrest you.’

  ‘Of course we’re going to arrest him.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell him that!’

  ‘Close your eyes.’ She grabbed his hand again, then slipped out from beneath the duvet. There was grunting, creaking, and swearing again as the bed moved. But they weren’t going towards the wardrobe this time, they were going in the direction the bed was pointing.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I said no sodding looking!’

  ‘I’m not looking.’

  More grunts. More creaks. More swearing. Then clunk.

  Then the mattress springs twanged as Steel climbed back on the bed. ‘Keep them closed!’

  ‘Then tell me what the hell’s going on.’

  ‘Looking out the window … Down there. Can just see past a bit of roof, there’s a car parked at the kerb.’

  ‘Thrilling.’

  ‘Shut up. Want to see who’s visiting.’

  ‘Open the window and shout for help.’

  ‘Hold on …’ Thump. Bang. A growling noise. Then, ‘Open you wee sod …’ More straining noises. ‘Gah. It’s locked. We … It’s Rennie! And DC Stone. You wee dancers!’ She banged on the window. ‘BUGGERLUGS, UP HERE! HOY! UP HERE! LOOK UP YOU PAIR OF MORONS!’

  ‘What are they doing?’

  ‘NO! DON’T GO BACK TO THE CAR! WE’RE UP HERE! HOY! RENNIE YOU SODDING IDIOT!’

  Silence.

  ‘What?’

  A long, rattling sigh, and then Steel collapsed back on the bed beside him. ‘They drove off.’

  ‘Oh, that’s just brilliant.’

  ‘We’re going to be stuck here for ever, aren’t we?’

  10

  Logan stared up at the ceiling as Steel climbed under the duvet again. ‘How could they just drive off?’

  ‘Because they’re idiots.’ She groaned. Covered her face with her free hand. ‘No’ that this situation isn’t dramatic enough, but it’s about to get worse.’

  ‘What now?’

  ‘I need a pee.’

  Breath whooshed out of him. ‘You are not peeing the bed.’

  ‘I’m peeing in, or on, something, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘Well … pee in the wardrobe then. Or better yet: tie a knot in it. You don’t …’

  She frowned at him. ‘How am I supposed to “tie a knot” in it? Have you no idea how a woman’s body—’

  ‘Shhh …’

  Logan stared at the door.

  Click.

  It swung open, and there was Alec Hadden back again. With a length of chain in one hand and a padlock in the other. His mouth tightened and his eyes widened. ‘What did I tell you about moving the bed? You’ve scratched the hell out of the floor! Look at it. LOOK AT IT!’

  ‘Think it’s bad now?’ Steel sniffed. ‘Wait till I pee on it.’

  He dropped the chain and the padlock. ‘You horrible … How …’ He clenched a fist. Took a deep breath. Nodded. ‘I see. What we have here is a lack of respect.’ Alec unbuckled his belt.

  Steel stuck her chin out. ‘If you think you’re putting your dick anywhere near me, you’ve got another think coming!’

  He pulled his belt from his trousers. Curled one hand around the buckle, and wrapped the leather around his fist a couple of times, leaving the end dangling. ‘I didn’t want to do this. You made me.’

  ‘You sodding dare!’

  Logan held his hand up again. ‘Come on, we all need to calm down here. This isn’t going to solve anything. We …’

  Alec lunged, swinging the belt overarm at Steel, teeth bared.

  She dodged to the side, grabbed the belt and yanked him towards her. Then slammed her forehead into his face.

  There was a wet crunch and he went sprawling across the bed. Steel was up on her knees, everything airing in the breeze – pale, swinging, and wobbling – as she hammered her fist down into Alec’s head. Once. Twice. Three times. He struggled up, and she mashed her fist into the bloody mess of his nose.

  Thunk.

  Alec wobbled. Rocked. Then his eyes crossed and he slid backwards off the bed. Thump onto the floor. Lying spread-eagled on the scarred floorboards. Not moving.

  Steel let out a shuddery breath. ‘God, now I really need to pee.’

  ‘So search him again.’ Steel pulled the duvet up beneath her chin. Her free hand was swollen and curled, the skin darkening from red to purple. Probably broke something.

  Logan heaved Alec over onto his back again. It was cumbersome and awkward, but nothing compared with the effort of hauling him up onto the bed in the first place. ‘It’s not here.’

  ‘Then where the hell is it?’

  ‘I don’t know, do I? Maybe he didn’t keep the handcuff key on him? They’re not his handcuffs, they’re ours. Maybe he doesn’t even know what the handcuff key looks like?’

  ‘Oh this is just great. Thank you very much.’

  ‘How is this my fault? You’re the one who battered him.’

  ‘What was I supposed to do?’

  Lying on the bed, Alec groaned. His face was a mess – swollen and bloodied, a couple of teeth missing. Most of his nose wasn’t where it was supposed to be any more.

  ‘He’s waking up.’

  Steel sooked a breath through her teeth. ‘You hit him this time. My hand hurts.’

  Logan rolled him into the middle of the bed, getting scarlet smears on the duvet cover, and stuck his free leg out. Reaching with his toes for the dropped chain. Holding his breath and stretching for it. The handcuff dug into his other ankle. ‘Got it.’

  He wrapped his toes around the cold metal and pulled it, clinking back to the bed. Reached down and grabbed the end.

  Steel looked over his chest at the floor. ‘What about the padlock?’

  ‘Give us a chance …’ His foot reached, and reached, and reached. Logan’s tongue poked out the side of his mouth.

  But there was no way he could even come close.

  ‘You need to push the bed closer so I can reach.’

  ‘For goodness sake. Do I have to do everything?’

  ‘Yes. You have to do everything. I’m contributing absolutely nothing here.’

  ‘You’re such a whinge. Close—’

  ‘I know. Close my eyes.’ He shuddered. ‘Trust me, some sights I never want to see again.’

  ‘Oh: ha, ha.’ She slipped out and the bed groaned and creaked and gouged its way across the floorboards. ‘This … was … easier … when … there was … just … your fat … arse on … there.’ The bed came to a halt and Steel climbed beneath the duvet again. ‘Right, you can open your eyes.’

  He grabbed the padlock with his toes and together they chained Alec’s hands behind his back. Then wrapped the rest of it around his ankles, before pulling it tight and padlocking the two ends together. Leaving him trussed up like a turkey.

  Steel put her foot on his shoulder and shoved him over the edge of the bed.

  Alec tumbled to the floor with a thump and a groan.

  ‘Serves you right.’ She wriggled down into the bed and scowled up at the ceiling.

  ‘What now?

  ‘Still need a pee.’

  ‘Wardrobe?’

  A sigh. ‘Wardrobe.’

  ‘What do you mean there’s no clothes in there?’

  Steel’s voice came out muffled. ‘I mean, there’s hundreds of clothes. Millions of them. It’s like a branch of Markies in here. What do you think I mean?’

  ‘Wonderful.’

>   ‘Hey, I’m not enjoying it much either …’ A pause. ‘Urgh. I’ve got pee on my feet!’

  ‘I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with “B”.’

  Lying next to him, Steel sniffed. ‘Better no’ be “boobs”. You promised no’ to peek!’

  ‘It’s not “Boobs”. And one glimpse was enough to scar me for life, thanks.’

  ‘Blinds?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Don’t stop!’ Steel gripped his hand, the cuffs digging into his wrist as the bed moaned and creaked beneath them. ‘Harder!’

  Logan grunted and put his hips into it as the whole frame swayed and clanged.

  ‘Come on, come on, come on …’

  ‘Argh …’ He slumped back against the mattress, sweat prickling between his shoulder blades. ‘It’s no good.’

  ‘We can do this!’

  ‘No we can’t. The frame’s not going to fall apart. Doesn’t matter how much we shoogle it.’

  ‘Sodding hell.’

  ‘Because I’m thirsty, OK?’ Logan wriggled as far as to the left as the cuffs around his wrist and ankle would let him, right hand groping at the floorboards. ‘Little more …’

  ‘Sodding hell.’ Steel grunted and groaned, and the bed gouged its way across the floorboards again.

  ‘Come to Logan …’ The bottle of water Alec dropped was just out of reach.

  More grunts and groans.

  ‘Got you!’

  ‘OK …’ Steel frowned at the ceiling. ‘Shoot Gordon Brown, shag Nick Clegg, marry David Cameron.’

  Logan raised an eyebrow. ‘You’d marry a Tory?’

  ‘He’s worth millions, isn’t he? Soon as we’re married, there’s going to be an unfortunate accident and I’ll inherit the lot.’ A grin. ‘An unfortunate accident with a wood chipper. Hello Daveyboy, I’ve made you a lovely cup of tea. Come out into the garden and drink it next to this dirty big chunk of machinery. Whoops! Shove. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrind!’

  ‘Urgh.’ She curled her top lip. ‘Your hand’s all sweaty.’

  ‘So stop holding it, then.’

  ‘Can’t. Every time I let go you shoogle about and I get a chafed wrist. You’re like a ferret in a carrier bag. A sweaty ferret. That can’t hold still for two minutes.’

  ‘This is hell, isn’t it? I’ve died and I’ve gone to hell …’

 

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