Dirty Bad Savage

by Jade West

  “Sorry,” she said, though she had nothing to be sorry about.

  “Look, Vicki, I’m the one who’s sorry, but you’re a mate. Ain’t no good trying to be something we’re not.”

  “I love you, Cal. I just fucking love you.”

  I met her with tired eyes. “Please, Vick, not now, right?”

  She shifted in her seat, coming closer. “Kiss me,” she said. “Just once. If you don’t feel anything then fine.”

  “Ain’t no point,” I said. “Ain’t gonna make no difference. I know what mates feel like, Vick, and this is mates.”

  “Kiss me, Callum, please babe, just try it.”

  She pursed her lips and closed her eyes, like something from pissing primary school. I leaned in close enough to give her the briefest peck on the lips.

  “Properly!” she snapped. “Kiss me proper, Cal.”

  “Fucking hell, Vick, it ain’t gonna make no fucking difference.”

  I slammed my mouth on hers, shoving my tongue all the way in. It was fucking wet, and she was so keen, moaning in the back of her throat like it meant something. I pulled away. “Told ya,” I said, “just mates.”

  “Not to me, babe,” she whispered. She touched her lips with her fingers as though I’d given her the kiss of fucking life. “This isn’t mates, Cal, this is so much more than mates.”

  I stood up. “I said not now, Vick, how many more times?”

  “We’d be good together, you and me.”

  “I ain’t good for anyone, and this ain’t fucking right.”

  “Stay with me!” she begged. “Please!”

  I walked away but she followed, grabbing my wrist by the door and coming in for another kiss. I shoved her away harder than I meant to. “What’s fucking wrong with you?!”

  “I’m in fucking love, Callum! That’s what’s fucking wrong with me!”

  “You’re fucking crazy, that’s what you are.”

  “Love makes people do crazy things, Callum Jackson, real crazy things.”

  My stomach was tumbling. My brain was swimming too, swimming in pain, and hate, and rage, and love. Love for Sophie fucking Harding.

  “Yes, it does.” I hissed. “It really fucking does.”

  I slammed the door behind me, ignoring the whines from the shed.

  “You’re staying here, tonight,” I said, holding a hand up to the little window. “You’ll be better off here.”

  Casey cried as I left, then barked over and over. I could hear her from down the street, Vicki too. Both of them calling for me.

  But I had a calling of my own.

  ***

  Place gave me the creeps, no wonder they condemned the shithole. The tarmac was cracking all over, weeds poking through. I climbed the ramps slowly, taking care to stay in the middle, away from the crumbly edge. My paints were heavier than I thought, wrapped in a dirty tarpaulin tied up with rope. Got it from the garage, so it must have belonged to that dead guy. I raised the bottle of vodka in a toast.

  “Cheers, dead guy. Nice one.”

  Stupid little bitches needed the drink less than I did. Just as well they didn’t argue the point, neither. Weren’t in the mood for it.

  The roof of the multi-storey was higher than I remembered. Leaning out on the railing showed me the whole of fucking East Veil.

  “You were right, Jimmy,” I laughed. “They’ll never reach to clean this one off.”

  I untied my makeshift hamper, wrapping the rope round my waist. I tied it tight, threading the other end through the railings and looping it into a knot. I checked it once before I set myself over the edge, spray can in one hand and my heart in the other. It creaked like a bitch before it held. I scuffed my heels against the concrete, sending chips flying to the floor below.

  This would be my legacy.

  The piece of art worth fucking dying for.

  I leaned back, arms stretched wide, head dangling into nowhere while I thought of Sophie, and Jimmy, and Vicki, poor Casey too.

  They were all gone from me now.

  I let the darkness take over.

  ***

  Sophie

  No amount of make-up would fix my face. I’d cried myself to hysteria and back again, leaving a pair of panda eyes and blotchy, swollen cheeks in its wake. I hadn’t moved all weekend, didn’t want to. Instead I’d been sitting in the darkness breaking my fucking heart over Callum Jackson.

  It hurt so fucking bad.

  I dragged myself into the office, sloping to my station without eye contact. Leave me the fuck alone, world. Just leave me the fuck alone.

  No such luck.

  Christine wasn’t alone when she approached my desk. She had Millie from HR on one side and one of the East Veil community support officers on the other.

  “We need to speak with you,” Millie said. “About Callum Jackson.”

  “What about Callum Jackson?!” My heart was racing so fast.

  “There’s been an incident, in East Veil.”

  My mouth was like paper. “An incident?”

  “The multi-storey,” Christine said. “You’re aware of it, yes?”

  I nodded.

  “He was up there, on Friday evening. We found his paints below.”

  “Found his paints?! What about him?!” The tears were welling up, I could feel them coming. I breathed slowly in through my nose and out through my mouth.“Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me? Is Callum ...?!”

  Three faces stared at me, eyes wide at my reaction.

  “No,” Christine said. “Of course he’s not.”

  She slammed down a glossy photo and my eyes shot as wide as theirs.

  “Callum Jackson isn’t dead,” Christine seethed. “But you’re fucking suspended.”

  ***

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sophie

  I couldn’t answer Rebecca’s calls, not until I’d signed out of the office. I was still reeling at the image.

  There was no point denying it was me. It was too pissing obvious. He’d captured me perfectly, from the point at the end of my nose to the awkward bit of hair that would never stay flat on my head. I guessed it was his heart I’d been eating in the picture, and he’d captured that perfectly, too.

  Suspended on full pay, at least they’d granted me that.

  It wouldn’t take them long to find the missing articles from the files, or locate Callum’s garage.

  My career was screwed.

  “Don’t ask how I am, Bex,” I wheezed. “Just don’t fucking ask.”

  “Shit, baby, that good, hey?”

  “Everything’s fucked,” I cried, no longer giving a shit who could hear me. “I fucked things up with Callum, I fucked things up with work, I fucked things up with my parents.”

  “Back up,” she hissed. “Just back the fuck up a second. You fucked things up with Callum, when?!”

  “Friday,” I said. “Would have let you known, but I was kinda tied up sobbing my heart out.”

  “Where is he now?” she said. “You did give him the money, didn’t you? For the Stoney brothers? Please fucking tell me he’s got the money!”

  I froze.

  “What fucking money?”

  ***

  Callum

  I watched Vicki’s place from the wall across the way, just in case the Stoneys showed up early. She was going to her mam’s for the afternoon.

  I was fucking done for.

  I’d been heading over with Case when I noticed them at the garages, them people from Sophie’s work. They padlocked it up tight, writing on their stupid pads.

  Another dream over.

  My phone had been flashing all morning, but I didn’t want to answer. Not until it was time.

  It was time now.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Where’s the meet?”

  But it weren’t Trent Stoney that answered me.

  “Don’t you fucking dare, kid, you hear me?! You go anywhere near them before I reach you and I’ll skin you my fucking self.”


  I didn’t know whether Raven was going to hug me or hit me as she charged across the street. As it turned out she hugged me first, then hit me. A hefty punch as well, right in the arm.

  “You fucking dipshit,” she snapped. “Why the fuck didn’t you come to me? I’m not that pissing hard to find.”

  I shrugged, and she sighed so fucking loud, slamming an envelope in my hand. I raised my eyebrows.

  “Twelve hundred,” she said. “From the dealer. Call it an advance.”

  “What?”

  “He loved your shit, kid, just like I said he would. Wants to put you on at the Southbank opening. Media viewing is tomorrow night so you’d better get your fucking act together.”

  I stared blankly at the envelope, too stunned to open it. “What’s this for?”

  “Standard advance,” she said. “Well, almost. Persuaded him to throw in an extra two hundred to help sort your unfortunate predicament.”

  “Take more than that.” I smiled sadly. “Might as well keep it, Raven. I owe them fifteen and they ain’t gonna take any less.” Her sparkly eyes filled with horror. “It’s alright, like. I’m good with it.”

  “Don’t be so pissing soft, you bloody idiot.” She jammed a cigarette into my mouth and lit the end before lighting one up for herself. “Told you before, the pity party doesn’t suit you, kid.”

  “Trent’s gonna cut my fingers off,” I smiled. “Great for a painter, eh? That’s me fucking done for.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, fucking sure he is. Follow me and shut your bloody mouth.”

  I shoved the cash back at her, shaking my head.

  “Don’t even try and say no,” she hissed. “Take it.”

  She’d dragged me to the cashpoint down by the subway, taken three hundred out of her own account. My cheeks burned with the shame.

  “This ain’t right, Raven.”

  “I’ll take it out of your first sale. There’ll be plenty of opportunities to pay me back, trust me. Your shit’s the best in the whole fucking gallery. You’re going to be a star tomorrow night, kid, I promise you.”

  I put the cash in the envelope with the rest, heart on fire. “Dunno what to say.”

  “Thanks is the standard answer,” she smiled.

  “Ain’t much good with thanks,” I said.

  She hugged me tight, and I hugged her right fucking back.

  I left Casey with Raven when I went to meet Trent Stoney. She waited across the way with her phone in her hand. Any longer than fifteen and she’d be calling the pigs, she said. I didn’t doubt it.

  Tyler was beaming like a fucking lunatic, face red and sweaty as he made his way into the garage block. The other arsehole didn’t look bothered either way, and Trent looked like he usually does, keen to get his money and get the fuck out of there.

  I handed it over, the biggest wedge I’d ever seen in my life. Broke my fucking heart, but the relief was so fucking worth it.

  “Impressive,” Trent said. “Didn’t think you’d have a tin pot to fucking piss in.” He threw the wedge to the arsehole at his shoulder. “Make sure it’s all there.”

  We stood in silence until it was counted.

  “Like to say it were nice doin’ business with you, soft lad. But we both know it wasn’t.”

  “We’re done now then, yeah?” I said. “No more debt, no more interest?”

  “Not unless your little slag wants to borrow again.”

  “She don’t,” I said. “We’re done.”

  “Fair enough.” He nodded his head for the others to follow and my breath loosened just a touch.

  It was Tyler who started the trouble. His gobby mouth ran away with him, chattering around Trent like an old mother goose.

  “Spit it out, you stupid cunt,” Trent said. “What’s the fucking problem?”

  “Jackson,” Tyler spat. “He’s the fucking problem. We’d cut his fucking fingers off, you said.”

  “Not if he’s brought the money, you fucking muppet.”

  Tyler’s jaw slammed shut, eyes like tiny black marbles. “He fucking owes me,” he growled. “Stole me girl, and me kid. His dog fucking bit me arm as well, yeah. Can hardly move the fucking thing.”

  “Heart bleeds,” Trent scoffs. “We’re fucking done here, Jones. Let’s move it.”

  He didn’t shift, not until Trent slapped him across the side of the head. “D’you fucking hear me, you thick cunt, we’re fucking done here.”

  I couldn’t hold back the smile, it swept across my face like a summer’s fucking day.

  “I’m coming for you, Jackson,” Tyler spat. “That’s a fucking promise.”

  “Not gonna be around much more,” I laughed. “Not now I’m a fucking artist. Got my work in a gallery and everything. What a treat, ain’t it?”

  He brandished his bandaged arm, but I no longer gave a shit.

  “I’ll be coming soon, Jackson, don’t you worry about that.”

  “Address is one two three kiss my fucking arse street,” I said, flipping him the bird.

  “I know where your address is,” he barked. “And I’ll be fucking coming.”

  I wouldn’t lose any fucking sleep over it. I could take that cunt all day fucking long.

  I’d enjoy it, too.

  ***

  Raven left me with a kiss and a shitload of instructions. Where to be, what to say, what to do. She’d meet me in the afternoon next day, she said, all ready for my great gallery opening. I’d be so fucking scared I wouldn’t know what to fucking do with myself. Loads of reporters would be there, celebrities and posh people too. Didn’t know quite how I felt, but it was better than feeling fucking dead about Sophie.

  I spotted Vicki and Slay in the distance as they made their way home. They’d left it until evening, enough time to count on the Stoneys being gone again. I ran up the street, shouting Vicki’s name until she spun around gawping, hardly believing her pissing eyes. Casey nearly knocked her off her feet, stopping just shy of sending the pushchair flying.

  “Fucking hell!” she screeched. “You’re in one fucking piece!”

  I lifted her up in my arms, spinning her around. “The art came through, Vick, fifteen hundred quid’s worth. Stoneys cleaned me out, but it don’t matter. Raven says there’ll be more where that came from.”

  “That’s fucking epic, Cal,” she smiled. “Really fucking epic.”

  We walked towards her place, talking about the gallery, and the Stoneys and everything but the craziness on Friday night. It suited me just fine.

  “Got some bread here,” she said when we got to hers. “I’ll make you a sarnie. Give me a hand with Slay, though, will ya?”

  I made Case wait outside, her mouth slavering as Vicki started grating cheese. “You’ll have one too,” I said. “Chill your fucking beans.”

  I played drawing with Slay while Vicki made us toasties. She put the cheese on thick this time, too, thicker than I’d ever seen her make it.

  “Well, it’s a celebration, innit?” she said. “Callum Jackson the famous artist. It’s so fucking awesome, Cal.”

  Yes it was. It really fucking was.

  I whistled Case as I stepped outside. “Come on, girl,” I said. “You’re gonna fucking love this one. Got loads of fucking cheese on it.”

  She didn’t come, didn’t even move.

  “Come on, Casey, don’t be a sulker, it’s cheese, look.”

  I stepped closer to notice she was panting. Panting really fucking hard.

  “You alright, Case? What’s up with ya?”

  My foot kicked into something, something tough and slimy. I grabbed at it, and it felt rank in my hand. A sicked-up piece of meat.

  “Jesus, Casey, where the hell’d you find this from, eh? Vicky ain’t even got her bin out here.”

  And that’s when I knew.

  I stepped up to the gate just in time to see Jones disappear round the corner at the far end.

  I was out like a bullet, already halfway up the street, steaming and raging and fucking gun
ning for him, but I didn’t get chance before Vicki screamed.

  “My God, Callum, you’ve gotta get back here right fucking now! Casey’s having a fucking fit!”

  ***

  Sophie

  My phone flashed in my hand, exclaiming the ridiculous.

  Callum.

  No fucking way. My heart could hardly believe it.

  “Cal?” I rasped. “Is that you?”

  His breathing was ragged, crazy, like he was climbing a fucking mountain. “Help me. Please, Sophie, you have to fucking help me.”

  The line went dead, and my fingers skidded all over the keypad as I tried to call him back.

  He picked up on the first ring.

  “What’s happened?!” I said. “Jesus, Cal, what is it? Are you hurt?”

  A pained growl sounded from his throat. “Not me. It’s Casey, that cunt Jones gave her something. She’s shaking, and she’s sick, and she’s crying. She’s really fucking bad, Soph, really bad.”

  My blood froze. “Where are you? Where is she?”

  “Going down King’s Road, to the vet at the bottom. Going quick as I can, but I’m carrying her, can’t get there any quicker.”

  “Call a taxi!” I screeched.

  “Got no cash. Got nothing, Soph. Please come. Please.”

  “Just get a taxi, Callum, please, for God’s sake! I’ll pay them when I get there!”

  I’d never moved so fucking fast.

  ***

  My taxi arrived just as Callum was getting Casey out of his. Her legs were rigid, twitching with strain, and her head was lolled back, eyes flickering. She was crying and panting at the same time, a terrible sound that punched me straight in the gut. It was so much worse than I’d imagined, and my eyes filled in a heartbeat, rushing to her side as he struggled to lift her out. He burst in through the doors, muscles tense enough to match hers, and I stared in horror at the vets’ faces. The way they looked at Casey and then each other spoke volumes.

  They ushered us into an examination room and Callum laid her flat on the table, stroking her head and talking to her all the time.