Everything to Nothing

by Mark Henthorne

  Still standing in front of the mirror she parted her legs a little and ran a finger over her pubic area making sure that he had not cut her. She also briefly slid a finger gently into herself and checked the entrance to her vagina for any sore spots and was pleased to discover none. While the tip of her finger was inside her, her thoughts switched unintentionally, but instantly, to Simon, his gorgeous face and fantastic body. Her finger slid just a little bit deeper into her and she found herself involuntary rubbing her clitoris with her thumb. After a couple of seconds she quickly drew her hand away and mentally scolded herself.

  Then she spoke out loud, ‘No! NO masturbation! No matter how you feel! It is more motivation to go out and find a boyfriend!’ She stamped her foot again, a habit that she acquired from Sally and had never quite been able to get rid of, and walked a few steps over to her bedroom door.

  Hanging on the back was a towelling dressing gown that she put on and fastened. Opening her door she walked lightly across to the bathroom, halting briefly to listen to her parent’s voices, her father’s voice now singing along with his wife’s, as they both worked together in harmony to prepare for the party. Michelle sighed another sigh of contentment and she stepped into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her.

  After showering Michelle returned to her room and by now the Chili Peppers album was about half way through. She instantly knew the song and picked up the lyrics. Still humming and singing along, she got dressed in to comfortable, cheap clothes from a local supermarket, no horse riding in Armani for Michelle, and slipped on a pair of trainers.

  When she was ready she turned off the music and practically skipped across her room to where she had flung her handbag. She got her mobile and purse out of it and then practically skipped back across her room to the door. Then she made her way downstairs and followed the now talking voices and found her parents sitting in the large conservatory at the rear of the house, both of them drinking what appeared to be sherry.

  ‘Hi dad.’

  ‘Hello my darling. Come and give me a kiss!’

  ‘Oh dad, alright then.’ Michelle walked across the conservatory and pecked her father on the cheek. ‘I’m going to stay at grandfather’s tonight. Can I take the Z4?’

  ‘Cheeky little monkey! You can if you tell me where you spent last night?’

  Michelle glanced at her mother but she did not look like she was listening, she had her head buried in the Times, but Michelle knew she was listening. ‘Did mum not tell you?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘I’m sure she will later! Pleeeaaassseee! Where are the keys?’

  ‘Okaaaaaaayyyyyy then,’ her father replied, mimicking his daughter’s long drawn out plea. ‘In my jacket pocket, in the utility room.’

  ‘Ohhh, thank you! You are a great dad!’ She gave him another peck on the cheek.

  ‘Now, now, no need to twist my arm using those little tricks, I have already said yes! Be on your way. Tell dad that I will be there to see him tomorrow about oneish probably. You sure you don’t mind staying there on a Saturday night? Not messing up your plans are we?’

  ‘No, of course not. I enjoy it. We’ll go for a walk with Jack and we’ll stop at the Rose for a meal. We’ll play pool and I will try to take his mind off things by being my charming witty self! I know how lonely he gets at this time of the year.’

  ‘Good girl. Go on then before I find out where you spent last night and change my mind!’

  ‘Okey dokey then. Bye. Bye mum.’

  ‘Bye sweetheart. Be careful in that car. Don’t be daft!’

  ‘I know. I won’t be! Bye.’

  Michelle walked out of the conservatory, into the kitchen and then to the utility room. She rooted in her father’s pockets for the key and then left the house.

  ‘She seemed in a good mood. Where did she spend last night?’

  ‘I think it best for her to be in the car and away before I tell you!’

  Michelle’s father simply rolled his eyes and said, ‘In that case, I don’t think I want to know!’

  Chapter 16

  ‘DO I LOOK LIKE A BITCH?!’

  ‘Wh… wh… what?’

  ‘Say what again! Go on, I dare you Tommy, say what again?’

  ‘Wh… wh… what?’

  There was a loud explosion right next to Peter’s ear and he instantly thought he was going to die. Instead all he saw was a smoking gun move across his range of vision. He then twisted his head upwards and he saw the bullet hole in the ceiling.

  ‘Yeah, look boyo. That’s what a bullet hole looks like. Next time that hole will be in the back of your… FUCKING… HEAD if you say what again! Now, think carefully before you attempt to answer this next most simple of questions. Are you ready?’ Peter managed to quickly nod his head. ‘Do… I… look… like… a… bitch?’

  ‘N… n… no, you don’t.’

  ‘Good, I didn’t think I did. So, tell me Tommy, why you treating me like a bitch?’

  ‘What?’

  Peter did not see the fist. All he could presume once he gathered his senses was that the punch had come from behind him. After he scraped himself off the floor back into the kneeling position he had been told to assume and his vision cleared, he looked directly into the eyes of his questioner. They were blue, ice blue and cold with no trace of emotion. Contrasting the eyes were the flaming red hair and red goatee beard. Peter’s eyes glanced down to the gun in the man’s big hand and recognized it as a Luger pistol. The history of this pistol was well known to Peter but he really did not want to think about it at that time. All he definitely knew was that he was in big trouble but he did not know the reason why.

  ‘I think the drugs he has been stealing from you have affected his common sense. Shall I hit him again to knock the sense back into him?’

  ‘No, leave him for now. I just trust he won’t say what again will you Tommy?’

  ‘Who the fuck is Tommy? Is it any wonder that I am a bit confused?’

  ‘Right now boyo, you is Tommy. I think I can call you whatever I want to can’t I Tommy? Considering I am the one pointing the Luger at your right temple right now don’t you think that gives me the right to call you whatever I want to Tommy?’

  ‘Ye... ye… yes.’

  ‘Good. Now that we have cleared that little bit of confusion up we go full circle and come back to the original problem that we have here, this problem being why you are insisting, insisting upon treating me like a bitch. So, go on then Tommy, why are you treating me like a bitch?’

  ‘I’m, I’m sorry Reg…’ Again Peter’s face slammed into the carpet as another punch landed on the back of his head.

  ‘Today, he’s Mr. Maxwell. Savvy?’

  ‘Wh… what the fuck is this? Pulp fucking Fiction?!’

  ‘All I want, Tommy, is some respect to be shown to me today. You know what respect means don’t you Tommy or you gonna say what again?’

  ‘I… I know what respect means Mr. Maxwell.’

  ‘Good Tommy. I’m pleased about that. Jesus Christ, one day, preferably before I’m drawing my pension, we’ll finish this conversation!’ This got a laugh from the surrounding people but certainly not one from Peter. ‘So, once again I will ask a question and I expect a respectful answer Tommy, which does not involve the words Reg or what. Why are you treating me like a bitch?’

  ‘I’m not Mr. Maxwell.’

  ‘He’s not apparently Kevin. He’s not. So Tommy, why then does it feel like that I am being FUCKING SCREWED BY YOU?!’

  At the end of this question Reg pressed the muzzle of the Luger firmly into Peter’s temple. Peter, panicking now, screwed up his eyes knowing that his next few words would seal his fate one way or the other. ‘P… p… please Mr. Maxwell. Just, just explain to me why you think that and I’m sure we can sort it out.’

  ‘Mr. Luger here is itching to sort it out Tommy, itching. Not very often that he gets fired in anger, but believe me when I say Tommy he is very close to striking down upon thee with g
reat vengeance and furious anger! You’ve been screwing me for months now Tommy. Scraping a little bit off the top here, and a little there, thinking to yourself that the thick Scottish bastard won’t be any the wiser. But I know, Tommy, I know.’

  ‘I swear I have not been on the take sir, I swear. Everything is straight, I ensure it is. I tell you how much I have sold and give you your cut every Saturday night just like tonight. Why is tonight any different from any other night? Why, tonight, do you think I am on the take? I swear sir, I’m not. Honestly sir, I’m not.’

  At this Reg, and the others not in Peter’s view, started to laugh quietly, then more loudly until there was general hilarity. Peter just knelt there and looked around and saw everybody in the room laughing. Reg was in fact laughing so hard now that he was wiping tears away from his eyes.

  ‘Did you see his face? Did you? When the Luger went off?!’ Everybody laughed.

  ‘We will be talking about this for years!’ commented someone else.

  One of the men put on a feminine voice and mimicked Peter, ‘“Please sir, yes sir. Yes Mr. Maxwell! Please don’t shoot me Mr. Maxwell. I love you Mr. Maxwell. Bend over Mr. Maxwell while I ram my head further up your arse Mr. Maxwell!”’

  Another large bout of laughing followed this and eventually Reg waved them to stop while wiping his own tears away. ‘Let this be a lesson to you Peter. I don’t like takers and I don’t like people with brown noses. You’re getting a bit cocky and I don’t like it. If you are with us for the long ride you treat me, and everyone else with respect. You’re a good little salesman, but that is all you are. You’ve got a long way to go until you get to play with the big boys. Just you remember your position which for now is nothing, nothing within this organization. You got it boyo?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve got it Mr. Maxwell.’

  *

  He had left his grandma’s house in good time to make his appointment with Reg his supplier. On the drive he was thinking about Sarah, about how good she had been last night, how willing she was to do anything he wanted, and how much he was looking forward to more of the same on Wednesday. His parents were away for two weeks and he fully intended to make the most of his time with her. Let her take lots of drugs and have lots of sex with her. Sounds like a perfect night in his eyes.

  The drive took about half an hour to reach the out of town house. It was a large house, gated, high walled and secluded. He approached the gate slowly knowing that to drive quickly to these gates was a bad idea. The guard nodded at him as he opened the gates and Peter drove in, leaving his car in the corner of the front courtyard out of the way as he had been instructed to do. He walked down the side of the house to the kitchens where he knew he would be checked for weapons and like usual his knife that he had started to carry ever since he had started dealing was taken away from him.

  As soon as Peter walked into the house he knew something was wrong. Nobody acknowledged him or said hello like they usually did. He was unusually searched again before being allowed to enter the room Reg was in which immediately set his alarm bells ringing.

  When he did enter and stand in front of the chair where Reg was sitting, he was not acknowledged for a minute and when he opened his mouth to speak somebody behind him hit him across the back of his knees with what he could only presume was a bat of some kind, maybe baseball. Of course, he collapsed to his knees and it was then that Reg first asked Peter whether he thought he was a bitch.

  *

  ‘He says he’s got it Kevin. Do you believe him?’

  ‘I don’t know Mr. Maxwell. Perhaps I should rough him up a bit just to make sure.’

  ‘That’s not necessary Kevin. I’m certain I’ve got it. Can we get down to business now or do you want to humiliate me some more?’

  ‘Believe me when I say that this is nowhere near humiliation Peter. If I wanted to humiliate you I would have one of my Great Danes mount you!’ This crudeness gained another laugh from the men.

  ‘Either way, I would like to finish up here so I can into town and start making us both some more money.’

  ‘Stand up, sit down there.’

  Peter gingerly stood up, the pain across the back of his legs was severe, and he hobbled over to the indicated chair.

  ‘Business is good for you, yes?’

  ‘Yeah, getting better all the time Mr. Maxwell.’

  ‘Good. Hear you getting quite a good reputation?’

  ‘Yes, I think I am. Regular customers every night in the clubs, more and more non-regular and regular contacting me all the time.’

  ‘Good. Anybody contacting you for a large deal?’

  ‘No. Nothing. You told me not to draw attention to myself in that way.’

  ‘Yes, I know I did. And I still want it to remain like that. As soon as someone does, and they will, what you going to do?’

  ‘Exactly what you said Mr. Maxwell. Say I don’t have the resources to do that.’

  ‘And the reason why I don’t want you to do this?’

  ‘Because I need to remain small time for now. Two reasons. One, I am not ready to start hanging with the big boys yet. Two, I will get noticed and then get heat off the police. And if I get heat, you get heat.’

  ‘Yes, we will. However, I think it is time for you to expand a little. Kevin, go and get Harry.’

  ‘Harry? Who’s Harry?’

  ‘You’ll see. Been following the football?’

  ‘Yeah, a little bit.’

  They chatted for a few minutes about the ongoing football season until Kevin returned. Peter looked over Kevin’s shoulder expecting someone to be following him and it was only when Kevin placed a package on the table that something clicked in Peter’s mind.

  ‘Expecting a person?’

  ‘Yeah, at first, but I think I know what Harry is now. I’m not too sure about this Reg. I mean, going from small time coke and E dealer to dealing the big-H is a big step as far as I am concerned.’

  ‘It is in some ways, yes. However, I want you to come to the house and pick up a package like this on Saturday as usual.’

  ‘And do what with it?’

  ‘Sell it. It is up to you how, who or where you do it. I am leaving it in your hands.’

  ‘I don’t know. I might be standing on people’s toes. I thought you didn’t want me drawing attention to myself. In my eyes dealing heroin is drawing attention to myself.’

  ‘What if I told you that more than one of your regulars contacts another one of my agents for a stash of heroin more than once a week?’

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me. But I will standing on your, erm, agent’s toes if I suddenly steal his customers.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about him. Turns out he has been treating me like a bitch.’

  ‘Oh, right. And?’

  ‘It is easier for me too. I would only deal with one agent but still be getting the same return.’

  ‘So all I do is put the word out to my regulars and see if they would like to enhance their purchase?’

  ‘You could even do incentives at first, buy one get one free for example. You know as well as I do that once they have that first hit they will be begging you for some more the next time they see you.’

  ‘Right. I suppose it is a good idea. Two things though. First, I know nothing about heroin. I want to be taught about it without needing to experiment with it. Do they smoke it? Inject it? Snort it?’

  ‘Not a problem. That would take two minutes to tell you that. Second?’

  ‘I want more protection. If I am going to be dealing heroin at some point it could turn nasty.’

  ‘You’ve got your knife.’

  ‘Don’t patronize me. You know exactly what I mean.’

  ‘We thought you would say that. Kevin.’

  Kevin placed a gun on top of the package and explained, ‘This is a Colt Defender. It is a pistol, not a revolver or gun. Small so it is discrete, yet accurate and reliable. It is a stopper too. Damage is high. Be careful if you ever have to use it at close range. I
t will pass straight through somebody and keep on going.’ He picked it back up. ‘Load like this.’ The ammunition cartridge dropped out of the handle and Kevin showed Peter how to load the cartridge. ‘Slide it back in, safety here, pull the slider, point and pull the trigger. Bang, bang.’

  ‘Right. Seems pretty straight forward.’

  ‘It is.’ Kevin placed the gun back on the table and picked up the package and opened it. ‘This is white heroin…’

  ‘It looks more brown to me?’

  ‘It is really a tan colour but it is classed as white heroin.’

  ‘Right. Okay.’

  ‘There is five hundred grams here…’

  ‘But I can cut it to make more right?’

  ‘Yeah, you can. We leave that up to you. You want to get a good reputation at first so don’t cut it too much. I would say two parts heroin, two parts crap.’

  ‘About fifty percent pure then?’

  ‘Yeah. Strong enough to give customers a nice good rush but not too strong so you start getting overdoses. But it will overdose a newbie if they take too much so warn them if you want to, but usually we wouldn’t bother with warnings. It is not like we can put a government health warning on H is it?!’

  Peter laughed. ‘I suppose not. All sounds okay. What should I mix it with?’

  ‘Anything you fucking want. Flour, washing powder, salt, sugar, ant powder, rat poison, anything at all.’

  ‘Tell him how to take it.’

  ‘Yeah, Reg. I was coming to that. If you want to you can keep some of the purer stuff aside and sell it for smoking. You can sell the less pure stuff too for snorting but they won’t get as a good hit. Understand?’

  ‘Yeah, all good. What about injecting?’

  ‘Easy. Dilute the powder with water, heat up the mixture, suck it up with a syringe, place needle of syringe in vein and let the good times roll!’