by Horn, Marc
‘You’d better apologise,’ Dave stuttered, trembling with rage and fear.
Ryan covered his face and willed himself to relax. He couldn’t punch Dave – it was unfair and he’d feel bad for a long time. Dave was a friend he didn’t want to lose. Though that didn’t detract from the fact that Dave had let him down.
‘Dave, I overreacted and I won’t say it again. But you let me down and I’m disappointed.’
Dave released the tension inside him. It was as close as Ryan got to an apology. ‘I was talking about you to her. It’s ridiculous me referring to you as “Col”. I know you as Ryan.’
‘Yeah well, that’s the way it goes. If it hadn’t been for me, you never would’ve met her anyway, so the least you could’ve done was call me “Col” when you were with her. It wasn’t difficult.’
‘So how do you feel about Stacey?’ Dave asked.
Ryan tutted. ‘I feel that she’s a revolting fat bitch who thinks I’m attracted to her. She’s just a pawn, no, a rook, in my game of chess – she plays a potentially vital role in securing my victory. I want to try voyeurism and she’s the slut who gets used. Maybe it’s what I need. If not, she can get the fuck out of my sight.’
‘Well that’s told me,’ Dave said, visibly shocked.
‘So have you fucked Fay?’
Dave sighed, sitting back against the wall. ‘I need to talk to you about that. In fact it’s the reason I came over.’
‘Is that why you look like shit?’
‘It is… We began to have sex and I went soft.’
Not surprising, Ryan thought to himself. ‘Do you think that’s because you don’t find her attractive?’
‘That’s the thing. I think she’s beautiful. She’s my perfect woman.’
Ryan laughed. ‘I love that about you, Dave – your obsession with fat birds is your finest quality.’
Dave ignored him. He didn’t want to get wound up. He wanted to talk. ‘I just can’t get hard,’ he said despairingly. ‘What do I do?’
‘You’re probably not relaxed. How long since you’ve had it?’
‘Four years,’ he said hesitantly. Usually he lied and said a few months, but he felt at ease with Ryan. He could talk to him about anything. Yes, Ryan took the piss out of him most of the time, but he was loyal and caring - and so he should be after everything he’d subjected Dave to.
Ryan concealed his surprise. ‘That’s a long time, lad. You’re out of practice and were probably too tense. I know you’ve wanted a girlfriend for a while. That put you under pressure. You wanted to satisfy her so she’d stick around and you got too uptight about it. It gave you a saggy dick.’
That sounded likely, Dave thought. He was desperate to impress her and had been incredibly tense, but it wasn’t something he could tell her.
‘How do I relax?’ he asked.
‘Well, you’re speaking to a stallion here with a dick like a fucking canoe, so fortunately I can’t relate to your problem and it’s just conjecture, but I would suggest Fay has an important role in it.’
‘Yeah, no shit.’
‘She’s got to put you at ease. It’s up to her to make you relax.’
‘That makes sense. She doesn’t help with that at all.’
‘What does she do? Call you “beer dick”?’
‘No, but she gets vexed.’
‘What a bitch.’
‘Hey, watch your language.’ Dave pointed a finger at him. ‘She’s a lovely girl. She just gets a bit intense with sex.’
‘Well it ain’t doing you no good. Look at the state of you.’
‘I just want to satisfy her. I’m worried about losing her.’
‘Why don’t you lick her beef curtains then?’
‘I can’t. I mean I tried, but I just can’t with her.’ He stared at Ryan, almost in self-pity. ‘It smells so bad and she’s got enough pubic hair to make a wig.’
‘Did you get furballed?’ Ryan asked.
Dave stared at him quizzically.
‘It’s when a mammoth hair ball gets wedged in your throat,’ Ryan explained.
‘No I didn’t, but I was very close to puking and had to stop.’
Ryan burst into laughter.
‘It’s not funny,’ Dave objected. ‘It’s not funny.’
Before long though, he joined Ryan in laughter and ended up rolling off the bed in a fit of tears.
24
Tash sipped her cocktail. ‘It’s weird, us, don’t you think?’
‘Me and you?’ Jenny asked.
‘Nah, us four. You, me, Ben and Geoff.’ She puckered her lips. ‘I’m doing Geoff; he was your ex, and now you go out with his best mate.’
‘I see what you mean. Yeah, I suppose it is.’
‘No secrets between us, huh?’
Jenny felt her cheeks burn. ‘I can imagine what Geoff said about me.’
Tash grinned. ‘It’s not what you think, love. Exes usually bad mouth, don’t they? Not him. He isn’t over you.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t worry, I don’t have issues with you at all. It’s just Geoff; he’s an arsehole, but he’s a stud too, and he can be pretty funny.’
‘That’s decent of you. I don’t know how I’d be if you’d been out with Ben and he felt the same way about you.’
Tash smiled. ‘He’s a hunk, too. I tell ya, other girls must be so jealous of us!’
Jenny leaned in. ‘Geoff, was…he was nice, but he was too-’
‘Physical? Yeah, I know. I love it. I’ll sit there watching telly, and he’ll stick his fingers up my skirt.’ She laughed, and Jenny couldn’t help joining in. This woman was unreal!
‘I’m a filthy bitch, I’m sure you know that by now.’ Jenny said nothing, just sat there, still smiling. ‘I’m not knocking you by the way. It’s good that you don’t sit on anyone like me.’
Jenny took a breath. ‘I had a bad experience with an ex. I lost it with him, and he was a bastard to me.’ She sucked up Bloody Mary. ‘He bought me nice things, took me to nice places, but once we’d had sex, that’s all he wanted to do. I felt like a whore.’
Tash shook her head. ‘That’s blokes for you, unfortunately. They just want to brag about it to their mates.’
‘Don’t you believe there’s someone out there who wouldn’t mistreat you?’
‘Not if he’s got a cock.’ That made Jenny laugh again. ‘I’ll stick with Geoff and enjoy the sex, until he dumps me.’
‘That’s not a relationship, Tash.’
‘I’m a realist. Besides, with no long-term expectations, I never get hurt.’
Jenny nodded. ‘That’s true, I suppose. It just sounds depressing. I don’t think that way about Ben. I’d be devastated if he left me.’
Tash chinked Jenny’s glass. ‘You love the romance. That’s fine. That’s who you are.’
Jenny thought. ‘I wonder how Geoff feels about me and Ben, if he still has feelings for me.’
‘I think he’s gutted, but they’re typical mates, you know; they like to get one up on the other.’
‘But that’s not why Ben went out with me, was it?
Tash spotted the sudden concern on Jenny’s face. ‘No, no. He fancied you, that’s for sure.’ Jenny swished the drink around in her glass. ‘You ever seen him box?’ Tash asked.
‘Ben?’
‘Yeah.’
‘No, why have you?’
Tash nodded, her lips parted. ‘Jesus Christ, he’s ferocious! I saw him box Geoff once. Knocked him clean out.’
‘Really?’
‘You ever watch boxing on the telly?’ Jenny shook her head. Tash sucked through her straw, and then pushed the empty glass aside. ‘They started off jabbing each other, going light, but they’re both so competitive, they both wanna win, and it started to get more serious. The punches got harder, and Geoff got an uppercut in and I heard Ben’s teeth smash together.’ She inched in closer to Jenny. ‘You should’ve seen his eyes; they were demon eyes, and I was scared, I tell ya. I thought he wa
s gonna kill Geoff.
‘Geoff backed away, but Ben literally ran up to him and hit his face so hard I thought Geoff was a goner. I had to call an ambulance. He only came to hours later. Funnily enough he hasn’t boxed Ben since.’
Jenny was running her fingers up and down her glass. ‘I saw him flatten a drunk guy who came onto me in The Cube. That was pretty scary.’
Tash sat back. ‘Your man’s got a temper on him, all right.’
Jenny gazed into Tash’s eyes. ‘But only when he’s provoked.’
Tash grinned. ‘So it depends what provokes him!’
25
Andre wore a chequered cap and a waterproof coat that stopped at his thighs. He walked to the door. The air was moist, but it hadn’t rained. He expected a shower by the time he left. It was a peaceful night. A couple of druggies had been lurking in the alleys and the occasional car had passed him, but that was all. He hadn’t been followed. Possibly observed - there were positions where a man could have concealed himself, especially in the park in front of the house, with its thick bushes and trees, but Andre’s clothing would have obscured his features. He rang the bell. This was his first opportunity to visit Jen, almost three weeks after his meeting with John-Paul.
After studying him through the spy-hole, John-Paul answered. As the door swung open, Andre noticed the marks on John-Paul’s neck and offered his hand. John-Paul shook it and Andre entered. He said nothing until the door closed behind him.
‘Where’s Jen?’
‘Upstairs. Andre, there was an incident. She’s in a bad way.’
Andre glanced at John-Paul’s neck again. ‘Let’s go and see her.’
Jen was curled up on top of her duvet, which had hundreds of white feathers sketched on it. Her hands were squeezed between her thighs in a praying position and Andre noticed scratch marks on the side of her face. She wore a crumpled white nightdress and her golden hair was draped over her shoulders in thick clumps of sweaty strands. She didn’t acknowledge them when they stood in front of her, preferring to stare at the floor. Andre checked that the window blind was drawn.
‘Jen, this is Andre,’ John-Paul told her. ‘He’ll help us.’
Jen remained still. ‘Can he see the invisible?’ she muttered.
John-Paul glanced up at Andre. ‘Well, I don’t know. Why don’t you sit up and talk to him. We arranged this, remember?’
‘Can you see his neck?’ she asked, and without looking up slowly lifted a trembling finger and pointed to somewhere in the middle of the room. Andre noticed deep lacerations on the bottom of her fingers. ‘I did that.’
‘Don’t be stup-’
‘How did you do that, Jen?’ Andre asked her.
‘I hung him from a branch.’ Her words were broken. Head bowed, she wept.
‘Was Zen there?’
‘Course he was fucking there!’ she snapped. She looked up at Andre with a resentment that soon sagged into sadness. ‘You think I’d do it? I love John-Paul… I love him so much.’ She buried her head in the sheets.
‘Why did you say you strangled him?’
‘Because it’s punishment.’
‘Why doesn’t Zen punish you?’
She flicked her head up. ‘He is punishing me, you thick piece of shit! How d’you think I feel? How d’you think I feel inside?’ She pointed at John-Paul’s scar and tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘I’m responsible for that! I’m to blame!’
‘Jen, it’s not your fault!’ John-Paul cried.
‘You’re letting him win, Jen,’ Andre said bluntly. ‘You must sit up and talk to me calmly or you’ll be responsible for John-Paul’s death.’
‘What can I do?’ she pleaded. ‘What can anyone do? You know nothing! You come here smug and self-assured, but you’re insignificant! He’ll kill you and he’s going to kill me!’ She grabbed her covers and pulled them over her head as she twisted away from him.
Andre interlocked his fingers behind his head, and looked above her at a poster of David Gray. All this intrigued him. Zen had tortured Jen to the extent that she was paranoid and on the brink of a nervous breakdown. He turned, walked to the other side of the room and stared with purpose at the wall, which was papered in soft, pink woodchip.
‘You haven’t told me everything.’ He turned to John-Paul, who promptly looked away. ‘Five years ago the family try to kill him ’cause the police failed. This time you want to leave it to the police again?’
‘We tried to kill him this time, too,’ John-Paul announced guiltily. ‘We hired someone. He failed.’ Andre’s reaction was just a nod. John-Paul stepped forwards. ‘I trust you Andre. He’s driven us to do this. Look what he’s done to us. No one had beaten me before. How would that make you feel?’
‘It won’t happen to me.’
‘I had the same self-assurance.’
‘But not the same experience, ability or lucidity. Twice you approached him; twice you could’ve gone in mob-handed and overpowered him.’
John-Paul shook his head. ‘No. No. It’s not that simple. He’s not stupid. He planned it. He challenged my masculinity. He knew I’d take the bait.’ He glanced at Jen, and covered his eyes briefly. ‘If I’d brought the cavalry, he wouldn’t have waited around.’
‘Is this contract-killer dead?’
John-Paul looked at his feet and whispered, ‘Yes.’
‘Did Zen use a gun?’
‘I presume so.’
‘You don’t know. ‘He looked at Jen and then at John-Paul. ‘You made the right decision. He’s better off dead.’ John-Paul gawked at him. ‘The man’s been doing this for a decade; you think he’ll stop after a prison stint?’
‘Well, no.’
‘If you could pin the hit man murder on him then maybe he’d do long enough, but use that and you do time too.’ Andre filled the silence. ‘This is no longer a police matter. And Zen’s known that since he was lying battered in the woods.’ He lifted his head. ‘I think you should make the same decision. I think we should kill him.’
John-Paul nodded firmly. ‘Do you know someone who can do it?’
‘I can do it.’
‘You’ll kill him?’
Andre removed his cap and held it in both hands. ‘Trust isn’t an issue here.’
‘No, it’s not.’
‘I was talking to myself.’ Andre turned away from them. This appeared to be a worthwhile task. Zen had killed at least one person, so he had the experience and taste for blood. That offered a challenge. Andre would need more from her before he’d decide to take the job, and a lot more before he’d be fully prepared to hunt his prey, but he was excited. It seemed like he’d be put to full use. It would be Zen or him.
But there was a risk that his employer might confess. People were weak. Even if they suffered all their lives because of one man, most still felt guilt after they engineered his death. Sometimes it was instant, sometimes delayed, but guilt could only be relieved through disclosure. He would pay close attention to Jen. He knew she was distraught, but was it enough to immunise her to any future guilt? Did she hate Zen enough to feel a lifetime’s relief from his death? Did she desire this so much that she could guarantee Andre that she’d keep silent forever? These were questions he’d ask himself after he’d spoken with her. He stretched his neck for a few seconds, then walked up to her and lifted the covers.
‘I can kill Zen, Jen.’ He let the words sink in. ‘I’m a professional. I can find him. I’ve done it before.’
Jen laughed an empty laugh. ‘And once you’ve found him, he’ll kill you.’
Andre wheeled out a chair from beneath a computer desk, sat down and faced her. He placed his cap on the floor, then reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. She was shaking. ‘Look at me, Jen.’
‘Fucking formalities,’ she sighed, rolling her eyes upwards as she lifted her head to stare indifferently at him. ‘What makes you so special? What makes you capable?’
‘I’ve got the experience, the motivation and the understanding.’
/>
‘Understanding?’
‘You can’t kill someone like him unless you can understand him. How he thinks and functions. I can get inside his mind.’
‘Really,’ she exclaimed sceptically. ‘I’ve seen you in the movies.’
Andre smiled at her. ‘A sense of humour. That’s good. Don’t lose it.’
‘Are you taking the piss? D’you really think I find this funny?’
‘No. I just want you to get a grip of yourself and be serious. The longer you fuck about, the longer he’s out there planning his next move. Maybe he’s planned it already and he’s waiting for John-Paul to walk into his trap.’
She lashed out at him, hitting him in the chest. He didn’t flinch. ‘You think this helps me?’ she asked, beginning to cry. ‘Don’t you think this is bad enough without you making it worse?’
Andre spoke emotionlessly. ‘You can’t hide from this. You have to face up to it. The sooner you cooperate with me, the sooner Zen dies. It’s simple. You’re delaying progress and increasing pain.’
She looked at him. He looked mean and cold. He looked like a killer. She could imagine him sticking a knife in someone’s side and remaining impartial, maintaining that stone-cold, empty expression. She could tell he didn’t care about anyone – there was no emotion in his features or his tone. She felt a glimmer of hope - that was what they needed. Maybe he could do it. Maybe.
What worried her was that the more Zen crushed her hope, the more she despaired. He wanted them to hire Andre. He wanted her to respond to him in this way – it confirmed his impact. It equipped him with ammunition. When she hoped, she hurt. That was the cycle. She would never feel safe until Zen was dead. She must deny herself hope until that happened. She looked at Andre. He was enormous. Maybe he could kill Zen. It was possible, but it meant nothing to her. He was right when he said her pain was increasing. If she resisted hope, then it could do no harm to employ him.
‘We don’t pay until Zen is dead.’
‘Honey, we have to go by Andre’s-’
‘No, John-Paul,’ she interrupted. ‘It’s probable that Zen will kill him. We won’t get the money back.’