by Luke Delaney
‘You all right?’ Brown asked.
‘I’m fine,’ he answered unconvincingly. ‘I’m fine.’
‘What others?’ Brown repeated. ‘You said he would have killed her like the others.’
‘It’s nothing,’ he lied. ‘I meant there will be others, if we don’t teach him a lesson.’
‘There’s already been others,’ Williams reminded them, trying to convince himself that what they were about to do was justified. ‘And there’ll be more, right? He won’t be able to stop himself. That’s what they’re like, yeah?’
‘Right,’ King confirmed and swung a kick into Swinton’s rib cage that made him fold in two on the floor. King leaned over him, grabbed his collar and lifted his head off the stone floor. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, you nonce? There’s already been others, hasn’t there?’
‘I … I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Swinton pleaded before King again punched him in the bridge of the nose and sent a spray of blood flashing to the ground. He gargled and spat blood before being able to speak again. ‘Why are you doing this? I haven’t done anything.’
‘Liar,’ King spat into his face before taking a deep breath. ‘If you admit what you’ve done it’ll go easier on you. Your punishment won’t be so bad.’
‘Admit what?’ Swinton panted, unwittingly fuelling King’s rage. Without warning King punched him hard in the mouth – the sound of teeth falling on the hard floor and scattering away like fleeing beetles seemed to fill the large room. King sprang to his feet and kicked Swinton hard in the stomach and again quickly in his exposed ribs as he writhed to escape the beating.
King turned to the two passive onlookers. ‘Well?’ he questioned them. They looked at each other before reluctantly stepping forward and each tentatively kicking Swinton in his torso – the lightness of their blows making him flinch, but little more.
‘What you doing?’ King moaned. ‘Like this,’ he ordered and aimed a full-force kick into Swinton’s unprotected kidney that made him straighten in pain before recoiling back into as tight a defensive ball as he could make with his hands still tied behind his back.
Brown and Williams understood it was impossible to avoid the inevitable and began to stab kicks into the prone body – without conviction at first, but with increasing ferocity as King looked on, nodding his head and voicing his encouragement. Swinton’s beaten body was the vessel he could pour months of fear and frustration into as he drifted ever further from the person he used to be. His new-found acceptance of the brutality and ruthlessness of existence was shaping him into a new and stronger man who could not only survive its harshness, but thrive in it.
Their dark demons spent, Brown and Williams’ kicks lost their vigour and slowed to nothing more than prods. ‘What you doing?’ King asked them – confused by their mercy.
‘He’s had enough,’ Brown told him, stepping back from the body on the floor that could do little other than rock slightly from side to side.
‘Enough?’ King questioned. ‘I’ll tell you when he’s had enough,’ he told them and spun towards Swinton, kicking him hard in the side of the head.
‘Jesus,’ Williams complained, turning away, unable to look.
‘Don’t go too far,’ Brown tried to warn him, but King fired another kick into Swinton’s head. Brown quickly stepped forward and grabbed hold of him and pulled him away. ‘For Christ’s sake, you’ll kill him. You kill him and we’re as good as dead ourselves. We can’t hide a murder.’
‘Can’t we?’ King rounded on him.
‘Jesus,’ Brown asked. ‘What’s happening to you?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ King snarled and pushed him away, bending down and punching the unmoving Swinton in the face. But Swinton didn’t respond – not even with a quiet moan.
‘You’re wasting your time,’ Brown tried. ‘He’s passed out.’
‘He’s not …?’ Williams asked, unable to bring himself to finish his question.
Brown kneeled close to the tortured wreck and listened carefully. ‘No,’ he declared with a sigh. ‘He’s still breathing.’
‘Thank fuck,’ Williams said, shaking his head in disbelief at what he was involved in – the last remains of the cocaine having long since faded.
‘Fair enough,’ King relented. ‘He’s had his punishment. Take him out and dump him somewhere on the estate.’
‘Aye,’ Brown agreed. ‘Funny though.’
‘What?’ King asked.
‘He never did confess,’ Brown reminded them. ‘He never admitted it was him who touched the girl, even when you said it would go easier for him if he did. He never said it was him.’
King sniffed to let them know he didn’t think it was important. ‘His type don’t,’ he tried to explain. ‘They don’t even know what they’re doing is wrong. They think we’re the sick ones because we see children as children – not things to be abused and preyed on. Fucking nonce.’
‘Aye,’ Brown said, although he didn’t agree. ‘Maybe. Come on. Let’s get this piece of shit out of here then get the fuck out ourselves. I need a drink and I mean I really need a drink.’
‘Fucking right,’ Williams agreed.
‘Just don’t go round here,’ King warned them. ‘Don’t use the Trafalgar. You don’t want to run into Marino. Best stay out of his way for a while – at least tonight anyway. Go home. Use a pub local to where you live.’
‘Fine,’ Brown reluctantly agreed, stepping over the stricken Swinton, unlocking the cuffs from his wrists and taking hold of an arm. ‘Give us a hand,’ he told Williams who duly obliged. They draped the hooded figure between them and started to drag him away before Brown stopped and turned to King. ‘You coming or what?’
‘No,’ King replied. ‘I need to be somewhere else.’
‘Oh aye,’ Brown looked him up and down suspiciously. ‘And where would that be?’
King’s red eyes narrowed with anger. He didn’t like being questioned. ‘None of your business,’ he warned Brown. ‘Just get rid of him and then drop your gear back here. I’ll take care of it in the morning. Anyone asks where you’ve been, tell them we were doing close obs on Ubana’s flat and had to keep our PRs off. Understand?’
‘Aye,’ Brown didn’t argue. ‘Whatever you say, King. Whatever you say.’
King knocked on the door of the maisonette in Millander Walk and stepped back to wait for an answer, straightening his uniform and flat cap, having left the boiler suit and mask behind in the basement. The curtains were drawn, but light and sounds from the TV leaked through the gaps and spilled out across him. His stomach was tight with anticipation, but it felt good – he felt good – alive and wanting to live – really live – in the extreme zone of pleasure, pain, intensity and recklessness that few would ever experience. And he knew now without doubt that the girl inside the maisonette would help take him the rest of the way to where he now wanted to be. He felt a presence on the other side of the door – someone looking through the spyhole, checking him out for what seemed forever – before finally he heard the locks being clunked open and the door pushed slowly ajar. Kelly looked through the gap smiling, confident – as if she’d known he was coming, sure she had the same power over him as she did all the men in her life.
They looked at each other for a long while without speaking, neither wanting to be the first to blink in the game of dare they both knew they were playing. To her own surprise it was Kelly who cracked first. Normally if the man in front of her couldn’t find his tongue she would have simply closed the door on him, but there was something different about this one. She’d had her share of wannabe gangsters before, but King’s blend of menace and intelligence was something new and she found it intoxicating.
‘Haven’t seen you in a while,’ she said, opening the door a little wider so he could better see her.
‘I’ve been around,’ he answered, trying to remember how long ago it had been since he’d seen her, sure it had only been days at most as his eyes lingered on her bod
y for a long while – every inch of her perfection. Her small red silk shorts and matching cropped top left little to his imagination, but enough. ‘Is your mum in?’ he continued.
‘No,’ she answered casually, swaying the door back and forth slightly. ‘She’s round at Chris’s.’
‘Oh,’ King nodded.
‘Was it her you wanted to see?’ Kelly asked, ‘or …?’ King just shrugged his shoulders, but his eyes never left hers. ‘You wanna come in?’ she offered.
He gave it a few seconds before answering. ‘Sure.’
Kelly opened the door to allow him to enter and leaned on the doorframe – the harsh fabric of his body armour brushing against her as he entered – the smell of fresh sweat and deodorant further piquing her desire. Once he was inside she closed the door and secured the locks before trailing close behind him like a falcon stalking a dove.
‘You want something to drink?’ she asked, keen to rush through any pre-functionary niceties he may expect. ‘Tea or something?’
‘I was hoping that offer of something a little stronger might still be on the table,’ he replied.
She smiled and led him into the kitchen, opening the cupboard where her mum stored their booze supply. ‘Whisky? Vodka? My mum’s got all sorts in here.’
‘Whisky’s good,’ he told her, still deadpan and expressionless.
‘D’you have anything with it?’
‘No,’ he answered flatly.
‘Don’t say much, do you?’ she teased him.
‘I say enough,’ he finally smiled. ‘Where’s your brother and sister?’
‘Mum took ’em with her,’ Kelly explained. ‘Chris likes having them around anyway for some reason. Spoils them rotten. Mum don’t care.’
‘But not you?’
‘I like the time on my own.’
‘And you can be trusted?’ he asked, taking the glass of whisky she was offering from her hand and momentarily allowing his fingers to entwine with hers, the sensation from the touch of her skin firing a bolt of pleasure straight to his groin.
‘With some things,’ she answered before taking a sip from her own glass. ‘Sometimes.’ She moved a little closer and reached out with her spare hand, running her index finger over the back of his knuckles that gripped his glass – some fresh signs of bruising already possible to see. ‘You been enforcing the law again?’
‘Something like that,’ he answered as he watched her finger draw increasing circles on the back of his hand. ‘You got something to smoke?’
‘Sure,’ she told him, gently releasing his hand and taking the things she needed from a kitchen drawer – her well-practised fingers quickly going about preparing a joint. ‘How long you been smoking this shit for? Isn’t it supposed to be illegal?’
‘Round here,’ he told her, ‘it’s only illegal if I say it’s illegal.’
‘So that’s what you are now?’ she told him more than asked, between dabbing her pink tongue tip along the edge of the cigarette paper and rolling it neatly. ‘The law?’
‘I’ve always been the law.’
‘Judge, jury and … executioner?’ She lit the joint and took a deep hit before passing it over to King who accepted it, his hands shaking slightly. Kelly noticed it. ‘You all right?’
He sighed before speaking. ‘Just … just maybe things have gone too far, you know. I let things go too far. Fuck.’
‘So,’ she asked, stroking the side of his face with her fingers, ‘what you gonna do about it?’
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘Just make things how they used to be. Normal policing again. Play it completely straight again. You break the law, you get nicked. Simple. Some of the things that have happened have … have been bad. Really bad. I need to turn it around before it’s too late.’
‘You can do that?’ she asked, sounding unconvinced.
‘I have to try,’ he told her. ‘I have to try and find me again. People don’t look at me the same any more. I’m not sure I know what I am now. Nothing’s straightforward any more.’
‘Why you telling me all of this?’ she questioned, looking confused, but unconcerned.
‘I’m not sure,’ he answered, smiling a little. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Smoke some,’ she told him, glancing at the joint in his hand. ‘A last taste of badness before you go back to your safe little world.’
He did as he was told. ‘Strong,’ he told her as he exhaled the thick smoke.
‘I don’t buy crap,’ she smiled. ‘Dealers round here always looking to palm you off with crap if you don’t know what you’re doing.’
‘But not you?’
‘I just know what I want,’ she told him.
‘And you always get what you want?’
‘Always,’ she warned him, picking the joint from his fingers, holding it softly in her naturally red lips and inhaling deeply. ‘Take this,’ she told him – talking while holding her breath, dropping the joint in an ashtray and snaking a hand behind his neck, pulling his mouth towards her – her lips shaping to kiss him, but instead gently blowing the smoke from her lungs past his lips. He inhaled it as if he was drawing the soul from her body. He held it in his lungs until there was nothing to exhale.
‘That felt good,’ he admitted as he looked at his own reflection in her black eyes.
‘Not as good as this’ll feel,’ she assured him and gently pressed her lips into his, the tip of her tongue exploring the opening of his mouth, brushing his teeth and the underside of his lips. The pleasure in her mouth was like nothing he’d ever felt before – as if she was a different species from another world. His arms coiled around her back and pulled her close and tight – a sound of thrill and surprise escaping from her. He could feel her lips tighten into a smile as his hands stroked and explored her back then he moved one hand between their clasped abdomens and slid it into her shorts and under her tiny pair of knickers. As his fingers slipped between her legs and gently moved back and forth she broke away from their kiss and rested her head on his chest and body armour – gasping and moaning softly as she began to tremble more and more until she finally reached climax for the first time in her young life. She’d been with other men and boys, but none had ever taken her here. They’d always been rough and rushed, only interested in themselves or had been inexperienced fumbling fools. King’s touch was altogether different.
‘Fuck,’ she told him as her fingers worked fast to remove his utility belt. Next she quickly and expertly opened his more conventional trouser belt and fly – her fingers eagerly searching him out and pulling him free. She stroked his penis a few times before realizing he was already fully erect, at which she slid like a dancer to her knees and took him into her mouth. The pleasure he felt bordered on painful, and all the while she looked up at him with eyes like ink wells filled with black oil.
‘Jesus,’ he complained against the almost unbearable pleasure before he gently took hold of the sides of her face and pulled her carefully off him. He lifted her from the floor, bending to meet her lips with his own as she rose – the sensation in his groin now turning to a desperate need to release.
As she reached her full height he quickly spun her around and held her tight, kissing the back of her neck and biting the perfect skin of her shoulders, one arm wrapped around her breasts as the other hurriedly and roughly pulled at her shorts and knickers until they were around her knees. Her back arched as she reached over her shoulders and cupped her hands behind his neck – feeling for his erection with the gap between her buttocks, trying to guide him into her. ‘Yes,’ she almost pleaded. ‘I want you to do it to me. I can’t wait any longer.’
He lifted her from the floor and carried her the few feet to the kitchen table then bent her over it, watching her spread herself over it – arms out to her side, her face largely obscured by the long waves of her dark hair.
‘Fuck me,’ she whispered. He leaned forward and allowed his weight to push him into her as deeply as he could sink, making her moan out loud and parti
ally push herself from the table before crashing back onto its surface. ‘Oh fuck, yes,’ she encouraged him. ‘Don’t stop. Don’t stop.’
He moved rhythmically now – sliding deep inside her before pulling almost all the way out, before again pushing as deeply as he could into her body. He couldn’t help but think of all the other women in his life he’d slept with, including Sara, who all seemed so lifeless in comparison. With Kelly it was different – how it should be: an uncontrollable urge to physically devour each other and form a bond between two people that could never be broken. Even if they never saw each other again, neither would ever forget these few minutes spent together for as long as they lived. Too soon he felt the irresistible urge to ejaculate and she felt it too.
‘Come in me,’ she pleaded, looking over her shoulder at him as they moved together. ‘I want to feel you come inside me.’
‘But …’ he hesitated. ‘But what about …?’
She guessed his chief concern. ‘It’s OK,’ she panted. ‘I’m on the pill.’
It was all he needed to hear and he quickly increased the rate of his thrusting, making Kelly call out in approaching ecstasy each time he pushed deep until he could delay no more. Even once the burningly wonderful moment had passed he held himself deep within her. For Kelly, it was the first time in her life a guy she’d just had sex with hadn’t immediately wanted to abandon her to return to the pub, or his friends or just the TV. They always came back begging for more once their balls were full again, but she’d never been held like this before. It was the best feeling she’d ever had in her short life.
‘Jesus, Kelly,’ King was eventually able to speak.
‘What?’ she asked, concerned, as she eased his shrinking penis from inside her and twisted around to face him. ‘You don’t regret it, do you?’
‘Fuck, no,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t regret any of it.’
‘Good,’ she smiled a little, leaning forward, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and gently pulling him forward to kiss her. ‘Now take me to bed.’