Rotten to the Core

by Casey Kelleher

  51

  Billy had thought long and hard about what he was going to do to Jay when he got back to the cottage. He had played out countless clips a suitable punishment in his mind. What he had done to Jay’s father a few years back had been very apt and seemed to fit the crime, and that’s what he needed to think of now: a truly fitting punishment for Jay’s crimes. Going in and blowing the cunt’s head off was just a bit quick and easy for Billy’s liking, Jay wouldn’t really be aware of what was going on, and he would be out of his misery the second the bullet tore through his brain. Sticking a knife in him would be pretty much the same, far too quick and easy, and after the initial deed was done not very satisfying. After everything that piece of shit had put Kate through he was going to really make him pay, with the only thing he had left, his worthless scummy life.

  Torture definitely seemed the best option; a slow painful death would be right up Billy’s street, but Ryan would probably have started dishing that out already. Never one to sit about, Ryan got bored easily; he had probably had hours of fun with Jay today already. Ryan was an evil bastard when you were on the wrong side of him, he had dished out punishments to many people over the years, and his reputation preceded him. He didn’t tolerate violence to women or children, and as friends go you couldn’t ask for better. Billy had known him since they were kids and trusted him implicitly; Ryan had never let him down.

  Billy had left Kate to rest at the flat; they had all spent a few hours having breakfast and all got through enough tea to fill a large swimming pool. She had seemed a bit better by the time he left her; more like herself. He had left her soaking in a nice hot bath, and she had said that after that she just wanted to go to bed. Billy was so grateful that nothing serious had happened to her; he was so happy that she was home safe and sound.

  Billy had dropped Paul off at his gaff before driving back to the cottage. Paul had wanted to go with Billy to sort Jay out, but Billy insisted that he wanted to do it himself, once and for all, and besides the less people involved the better; he didn’t want this coming back on any of them, especially not Paul: the guy was a diamond.

  Paul hadn’t said much to Kate while he had been at her house, not in front of Billy, but his presence spoke volumes, as it must have done to Kate. He cared about her. Billy had seen the way the bloke looked at her: Billy had never seen anything more obvious. Kate had been through a shitload this year and probably needed time on her own, but a good friend in Paul would not go amiss, Billy was sure.

  Pulling up outside the cottage, Billy gave a deep sigh: what was coming had to be done, but it never got easier. But sometimes you started things and just had to see them through, he muttered to himself.

  Looking out through the curtains, Ryan smiled.

  “My, my, what a popular boy you are, Jay, looks like you’ve got yourself another visitor.”

  Jay, tied to a chair, tried to lift his head up to see. He could feel blood trickling down one side of his face, and he could taste it in his mouth. He couldn’t believe that Tanya had handed him over to these fucking animals after everything he had done for her. He realised that she had well and truly used him, it was hilarious when you thought about it, he had gone through life using women like toys, as and when he had wanted, and the one time that he had let his guard down and trusted a woman, the devious bitch had all but fucking crucified him.

  Ryan had pushed Jay to his limits with the pain, any more burns or cuts and he would pass out again, his heart was pounding so loudly he wondered if Ryan could hear it, so it was perfect timing to see Billy walking to the door. Even though there may be worst to come, he prayed for a break for just a few minutes from the pain inflicted on him.

  Pulling out a cigarette, Ryan sat opposite Jay; inflicting pain was a tiring job.

  Billy didn’t even look in Jay’s direction when he came in, he saw the state of the kitchen, and could smell that Jay had crapped himself. Ryan, as always, had taken it slowly and caused maximum injury without killing the bastard.

  “I need you to help me get him in the boot,” Billy said to Ryan. He nodded towards Jay, but still didn’t fully look at him: he couldn’t, he was feeling so much rage at being in the same room as the horrible fucker.

  “No worries, mate, how are we going to get rid of him?” Ryan was up for whatever Billy suggested; he enjoyed this part of it: he had a taste for blood today, especially that of someone as despicable as Jay.

  “We’re not,” Billy answered bluntly.

  “What do you mean, we’re not; he fucking deserves this, Billy, he has it fucking coming, you can’t be thinking seriously of letting him go?” Ryan couldn’t believe it; Billy must be going fucking soft.

  “No, Ryan, you heard me wrong: we’re not getting rid of him, I am. I just need you to help get him into the boot of my car.” Ryan understood; Billy needed to do this himself, it was his fight and he needed to finish it.

  After they had placed a bound Jay in the boot of Billy’s motor, Billy told Ryan to get all his shit out of the cottage: the Ellis’s were on their way over. Unfortunately, the cottage was about to have a bit of its own misfortune; Jonny and Lee were going to start a fire and stick around to make sure the whole place went up, just so that nothing that had gone on here in the last week came back to haunt any of them. Billy thought that although the place probably wouldn’t have been booked out in Tanya and Jay’s real names, but he didn’t want to take any chances on anyone looking for either of them, or him. Anyway, Billy figured a nice little insurance pay-out would much more to the owners liking than to come back to find Jay’s shit and blood over the walls of their precious little cottage.

  Getting into the motor, Billy wound the window down so he could feel the breeze as he drove. He turned up the stereo and started to feel upbeat, he was back in control. No-one would make a fool out of him: especially not Jay.

  He drove for miles, into the middle of nowhere; it was funny because the little place he was heading for he had stumbled across by accident a few years ago. He had done a bit of business for someone and had been ripped off; he and Ryan had taken care of them, in exactly the same place. At the time, he had made a comment to Ryan about the place being fucking creepy. It was an old industrial farmhouse that had been abandoned many moons ago, judging by the state of it; it had been so eerie that the whole place had spooked him out. It had felt as though they were the only people for miles, well, they actually had been, no one came out to those parts. Pulling up next to the old deserted building now, he switched the engine off.

  The place hadn’t changed one bit, even at this time of the morning it was scarily isolated.

  Lifting up the lid of the boot, Billy looked in at the bloodied mess that was Jay, and smiled at the fear in the eyes that stared back. Billy lent down past the flinching Jay and picked up the shovel that was also in the car. “People are going to be talking about this for years, you know, Jay.”

  Jay didn’t have the energy to lift his head; he hoped whatever Billy had planned would be over as quickly as possible, but he had a feeling that he was doing a bit of wishful thinking.

  “People are going to be talking, Jay, about you, the little prick who tried to do one over on me and take my hard-earned cash.” Billy poked Jay hard in the ribs with the end of the shovel.

  “They’re going to be talking about you, the guy who shagged my missus behind my back.” Billy brought the shovel down on Jay’s stomach. “About you, the little cunt who thought he could kidnap my sister, and do you know what they will be saying about me? Do you?” He bellowed the words, furious at the audacity of the scumbag in front of him.

  “They’ll be saying when they hear about your rotting stinking corpse that no-one, but no-one, should fuck with Billy: he won’t fucking stand for it. They’ll be talking about your death for years, mate. Which is just as well, you’d be forgotten in an instant otherwise, a sorry fucker like yourself. No-one cares if you live or die.”

  He brought the shovel down with more force, hitting Ja
y on the head. There was an almighty thump, which sounded worse than it was. Jay was out cold, and Billy set to work again; the next time Jay woke up, Billy wouldn’t be there, it would just be Jay and his demons.

  52

  Kate’s stomach was full and she felt clean after her long soak. She had closed her eyes the second she laid her head on her pillow and had no trouble falling asleep.

  When she awoke she felt safe, and that was a good feeling, one that a few days ago she hadn’t been sure she would have again. She knew Billy had gone to sort out Jay; she was scared about what might be happening, but she didn’t want to know the details, she was just relieved that he wouldn’t be harming her again.

  Emma and Sonia’s voices floated up to Kate from downstairs, just the normalness of the moment made her feel happy, she had been so terrified that she wouldn’t see her friends and family again when she had been trapped in that dingy basement.

  The phone rang on her dresser and, as she pulled herself up and wrapped the duvet snugly around her, she got that fluttery feeling in her stomach as she looked at the caller ID: Paul.

  “Hey, Kate, I just wanted to see how you are?” Paul asked. “We didn’t really get much of chance to talk earlier with everyone around.”

  Kate smiled. They had been surrounded by people, yet she had felt that she and Paul were the only two in the room. Had he felt that too?

  “Thanks, Paul; I’m feeling a lot better now I’ve had a sleep.”

  “Well, in that case, how would you fancy dinner at my place? I can pick you up in a few hours. There’s someone here I’d like you to meet, if you’re up to it.”

  “Okay.” Kate felt wary; dinner with just Paul would have been heaven, she just knew he felt the same way she did, surely she hadn't got that wrong. He wouldn’t want her to go to his house for dinner to meet a girlfriend, would he? Whoever it was must be important to him. Not wanting to sound stupid over the phone or question him further in case she heard something that she didn’t want to, she agreed. He then said he would pick her up in two hours.

  Putting the phone down, Paul called for Sophia. Running into the lounge, wearing a bright pink Disney princess dress that she had insisted on wearing every day since he had bought her the movie, Sophia threw herself onto her daddy’s lap. He hugged her; it was hard to imagine that this child hadn’t been in his life forever, it had only been four short years, yet he couldn’t remember life before she had come along. She was his world.

  “I have a friend coming over to meet you later.” Sophia fiddled with her princess ballet pumps, he could see that she felt shy at the mere thought of someone else coming over. It was his own fault, he knew, Sophia was forever at home with the nanny while he worked. Apart from nursery in the morning, they rarely had visitors. Deciding to play it from a different angle, he whispered:

  “My friend is very special, Sophia, I think that you are really going to like her.” Looking up at him not quite sure what to make of what he was saying, he continued:

  “Her name’s Kate; she is a real princess, just like you.”

  “Wow, will she be wearing a princess dress like me?” Sophia seemed to be excited now; she had always wanted to meet a real princess.

  “She hasn’t got a lovely princess dress like you but she is very, very pretty, and she is very kind. Maybe we can have a look in your bedroom and see if she can borrow something of yours to wear, I bet she will love your dress.”

  Bouncing off of her daddy’s lap, Sophia ran to her bedroom as if her life depended on it, desperate to find something for her daddy’s princess friend to wear.

  Smiling at her innocence, Paul couldn’t shake an anxious feeling. This was a big step. He had decided, years ago, that he would never let anyone close again, but then that was before he had met someone as special as Kate. He had never felt like this, not even about his ex, Caroline. Caroline hadn’t batted an eyelid when they had separated; she continued to go out partying and coming home at all hours of the morning. She had treated Sophia like she were a big inconvenience and it had broken Paul’s heart to see his baby left to cry in her cot, ignored by her own mother.

  When he left, she had told him to take Sophia with him; she had dismissed Sophia as if she were nothing, as if Caroline had not a single maternal bone in her body. Paul had done that. He had never heard from Caroline again and knew in his heart of hearts that he never would. He had got over her, that was for sure, but it hurt that his little girl was growing up without a mummy. Since Sophia was nine months old he had brought her up, with the help of the nanny. Sophia was the love of his life; his sole reason for living. Building up a reputation and a business in the clubbing world was hardly a place for a small, beautiful baby; he had always kept them separate. He never spoke of his personal life; the less people knew about him, the less chance they would be able to hurt him. But he had fallen for Kate, and he wanted her, and he knew that it was time to let someone in. Tonight, the two most important girls in his life would meet. And he just prayed that after tonight, Kate would feel the same as he did.

  53

  There were moments when Tanya thought about her disloyalty to Jay, but they were so fleeting that they passed almost as quickly as they came; she certainly didn’t lose a moment’s sleep over it: far from it, as a matter of fact. Tanya had been living the high life. The life she was convinced she was born for. To some people, a quarter of a million pounds would be a lot of cash, the sort of money that would allow them to put a nice-sized down payment on a little house where they could settle down, maybe buy a flash car and new clothes, and generally be quite content with their new-found fortune. It was a decent start. But Tanya wasn’t “some people”. She wanted five-star luxuries all the way: a penthouse in London, somewhere upmarket like Mayfair, a Bentley with a personalised number plate, and designer clothes. A quarter of a mill was just a taste of what she thought she needed in order to get by. It wouldn’t last five minutes with the plans she had, she needed to use it wisely. Tanya had always believed that money came to money, and now she had a little it was her chance to get more. So she had come up with quite a plan. In order to find a nice rich man, she would have to go to where the rich men were and to appear as if she had come from money. Tanya, never short of male attention, expected to catch the attention of a rich guy looking for a woman on whom he could spend his fortune.

  Tanya had checked into the Dorchester, a hotel she had always wanted to stay at, in the hub of London and she actually felt quite at home there, she drank endless amounts of champagne and indulged in treatments at their top-class spa, figuring that she wasn’t frittering away the money, it was an investment. These rich men could be quite clued up on gold-diggers, there were plenty of them about, even she knew that, and although a young girl may think she was in with a chance with a man, often they would be on to them in a heartbeat, and they would get what they want from the girl, with no real intention of losing a single penny of their cash to her.

  Tanya was acting as if she was loaded; spending her money as if it were limitless. That way, when she fluttered her eyes and flashed her cleavage at some unsuspecting old bore at the bar, they might actually believe that she was interested in them and not just after their hard-earned cash; her motive would be concealed, as she so obviously had enough of her own wealth.

  So far, she had gained admiring glances from most of the guys staying there, single and attached, much to her amusement. Men were so fickle, she thought. Normally she played it cool, letting men come to her; that way she wouldn’t come across as if she had initiated anything or seemed desperate. There had been a few men who had approached her, but they had turned out to be dirty old men with a wife in tow somewhere else in the hotel, trying their luck while they thought they might have a chance. One even hinted that he knew she was a call girl: top class, of course; it took a lot of effort not to get out of her chair and lump him one. She had decided to be very bold this afternoon and had taken it upon herself to send a glass of champagne over to a very good-loo
king guy at the other side of the terrace bar who had kept catching her eye. She figured he must be shy as every time she had caught him staring, he had looked away, so she decided to take the initiative. Waiting for a rich, eligible bachelor wasn’t working out quite the way she had anticipated and Tanya decided that she would have to do a bit of catching and reeling in herself. She could see that the guy had been very surprised by the drink and had looked uncomfortable accepting it, but Tanya was sure that she was in for a chance with him, he had been watching her from the minute she came into the bar. Raising her own glass to him and smiling, she took a long sip of her drink and enjoyed the bubbles fizzing on her tongue whilst she thought about what a catch she had stumbled upon, he was much younger and much better-looking than the old farts around here that had been on her ‘hit-list’ so far.

  Interrupting her thoughts, the hotel’s duty manager approached her and asked if he could have a word with her, she felt that it was most inconvenient right at this moment in time and asked if she could pop to reception and see him a little later on, but he insisted it was urgent. Reluctantly following him to the desk, she felt like a naughty schoolgirl; picking up on the attitude of the manager, it was as if she had done something wrong. She assumed it was to do with her payment, as she had no card to put down as a deposit when she had checked in she had told them she would be settling up in cash. There must be a lack of communication or something going on as she had already paid for the room up-front for a week, just to keep them sweet, and she had only been here two days. So she couldn’t imagine why he seemed so grumpy with her.

  As she reached reception she could see several of the staff looking at her as if she had two heads growing out of her neck; she was starting to get a little pissed off now.

  “Do you mind telling me exactly what is going on here? I was in the middle of a drink.” She gestured to the bar.