by Edie Baylis
“No please,” Ernie screamed, stuck fast in his prone position.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jane spat. Holding the blow torch away from Carter’s body, she positioned it so the searing flame began scorching and burning his genitals. Smiling, she moved the flame slowly up and down his cock, relishing the crackling noise and acrid burning smell.
“Surprised you’re not getting a hard on from this you twisted bastard!” she yelled. Continuing with the slow burn, Jane smiled watching his skin reddening and blistering. “Nice is it?”
“AAAARGH!” Ernie wailed, sweat pouring from him in bucket loads. He began hyperventilating, his eyes rolling.
Feeling Seth put his hand on her arm, Jane looked up at him, his green eyes burning into hers. “That will do. We don’t want him to go just yet.”
Jane stepped back and regrettably moved the blow torch away. She’d have quite happily personally cooked him to death.
“One more job I think and then he’s all yours Bill,” Seth smiled, yanking Ernie back up to an upright position on his chair and cringed seeing the large strips of skin hanging from the man’s genitals. “Can we have some water here?” They needed to keep him conscious.
Seth smiled as Digger promptly threw a bucket of water over Carter. “Untie his hands,” he muttered realising the man wouldn’t have the energy to try and fight. As it was he’d degenerated into spouting weird mutterings. It was obvious he was delirious. They needed to get a move on.
Once Carter’s hands were free, Barry dragged his chair over to a stone work surface at the side of the cellar. He grabbed his right hand and slammed it on the flat surface.
Seth yanked Ernie’s head back and stared into his rolling eyes. “Do you have anything to say yet, you piece of shit?” he screamed.
Getting no response, Seth effortlessly removed all of Carter’s fingers on his right hand with one chop of a meat cleaver. “Should have took this off first really,” he muttered, looking at the blood splattered all up the front of his white shirt. “You messy bastard!”
He nodded to Barry who lined up Carter’s second hand up on the work surface. “Now can you think of anything?” Seth raged.
“I-I’m sorry. SORRY!” Ernie howled, promptly spewing vomit everywhere as the fingers on his left hand were removed.
“All yours now I think, old man,” Phil smiled at Bill who’d watched the proceedings with a satisfied smile on his face.
Phil knew this would have to be finished by his father. Even though Bill never usually got his hands dirty, on this occasion he’d be making an exception.
BILL HAD BEEN WAITING for this moment even since Ernie Carter had begun messing with his gear and with his club, but nowhere near as much since the cunt had taken Sheila from him. If that hadn’t been bad enough, what the bastard had done to her.
However hard he’d tried, he hadn’t been able to remove the knowledge from his brain that this slimy bastard had forced his cock into the woman he’d spent his whole life loving. It was beyond the pale and nothing he could do to this prick in front of him would heal the deep scarring of his soul.
He studied Carter’s butchered face and the remains of his hands and took some solace from the fact his genitals didn’t resemble anything they should. Whatever he did wouldn’t avenge what had been done to Sheila, but would ensure as much payback as physically possible in this world was meted out.
Bill pushed his expensive tailored shirt sleeves further up his arms and paused, taking in the now constant guttural moaning coming from the broken man in front of him.
He glanced slowly around the room, silently acknowledging the loyal people surrounding him were all tensed ready for him to finish it and knew he’d have to do it sooner rather than later. If he could have done he’d have kept Carter just about alive and slowly torture him further over the next few days. Alas, this was not going to be a possibility.
Taking a deep breath, he walked over to Carter. His head with its grotesque open wounds lolled against his chest and the only thing keeping him upright now was the chair.
“Carter,” Bill spoke in a low menacing voice. “Why did you do what you did to Sheila?”
When he received nothing in response, Bill grabbed Carter’s chin with his hand and yanked his head back sharply. “SPEAK!” he roared. All that he then received was a sneer that spread slowly across Carter’s ruined face.
“You CUNT!” Bill screamed and plunged both thumbs deep into the corners of Carter’s eyes.
Ernie howled animalistically as Bill increased the pressure and twisted his thumbs around deep within his eye sockets. With a horrible squelching noise, first one and then the other eyeball was gouged out and came to rest on his slashed cheeks, hanging by thick sinews.
“SHUT UP!” Bill roared, half-deafened by the screeching noise coming from Carter’s mouth.
What was left of Carter’s hands groped uselessly at his face, the bleeding stumps of his missing fingers grasping for the eyes that were no longer there.
Picking up a hammer, Bill slammed it into Carter’s mouth, smashing his teeth to smithereens. “That’s from Sheila!” he cried.
Bill knew there was very little time left for Ernie Carter in this world. He bent down and whispered in his ear. “May you rot in hell!” In a split second he slit Carter’s throat with such viciousness he was very nearly decapitated.
A mixture of blood and air frothed up from Carter’s sliced windpipe and thick purple blood flowed down over his body like a waterfall. It was over very quickly and within several seconds Ernie Carter was no more. Unzipping his flies, Bill quickly relieved himself over the man’s face.
Digger immediately threw a tarpaulin over the body and Phil glanced over to his father. “Put this spare shirt on and get back upstairs to mingle. We’ll sort this out.”
FIFTY THREE
JANE FOUND IT RELATIVELY straightforward to get up the back stairs to her office without being seen. The music pumped loudly from the club and everybody was busy at the wake so she’d been confident she wouldn’t bump into anyone and she’d been right.
After Bill had gone to casually re-join the guests they’d cleaned up the cellar between them. It hadn’t taken long. Phil and Digger had the foresight to bring a change of clothes, but she hadn’t and was caked in blood, as was Seth.
Seth had grabbed her hand as she’d vigorously mopped the floor before quickly retracting it like he’d been burnt. She’d risked another smile at him, as after all he’d held her hand in the church today, plus he’d winked at her earlier. She was confused. She’d thought perhaps his hatred of her was abating, but it seemed she’d been wrong.
“Get yourself up to your office and get cleaned up for God’s sake, Jane. You need to show your face at this wake too remember?” Seth had snapped, his eyes cold as ice.
“What about you?” she’d asked, eyeing the thick blood covering most of Seth’s shirt.
“Don’t worry about me,” he’d hissed. Giving her a hooded glare, Seth had helped Phil and Digger to drag Carter’s remains up the back stairs to the van.
Walking into her office, Jane shut the door behind her and gratefully leaned up against it. Taking a deep breath, she lit a cigarette and exhaled slowly, noticing her hands were slightly trembling.
She walked over to the cabinet and poured herself a large vodka. Swigging greedily from the glass she relished the liquid burn and absentmindedly glanced out of the window, watching the traffic moving up and down the road below. She eyed the coagulated mess on both her top and her skirt and frowned.
She really wanted to sit down, but didn’t want to get Carter’s stinking blood everywhere. She’d best get cleaned up. She’d have a quick shower and then go down to the wake. It would be going on into the small hours.
Glad her office was more like a small self-contained apartment than anything else, Jane selected a deep red cocktail dress from the cupboard and made her way into the adjoining bathroom.
Turning the shower on to full pelt, she quickly
removed her makeup and gratefully sloshed cold water on her face. Letting her blood-soaked clothes drop to the floor in a heap, she kicked them into the corner.
Jane stepped into the shower and stood under the powerful jets, gratefully allowing the hot torrents of water wash Ernie Carter’s filth down the plughole.
SETH RUBBED THE SHAMPOO into his hair and liberally soaped his body. Digger and Phil had offered to dispose of Carter, reminding him that if all of them were still missing from the wake it would draw attention to their absence. It made sense. They’d all been gone far too long.
Seth stood under the jets, letting the hot water massage the tight muscles on his back. The day had taken its toll. Not from the deserved justice metered out to that slimeball Carter, but from the stress of being close to Jane.
The familiar and all too comfortable feel of her hand in his. The way she’d looked at him. The consistent resistance he’d had to enforce upon himself not to take her in his arms where she belonged.
He’d been watching her deal with Carter. Seen the unmistakeable fire in her eyes which he’d always loved. He could have kicked himself for winking at her though. He hadn’t meant to. It had just happened. His body betraying his mind. Again.
He turned around in the shower and let the water run over his chest. He knew full well he’d been close to kissing her the other night and it had scared him. His resolve was being pushed to the limit. Turning the water off, he quickly dried himself and slipped on a clean shirt and suit.
Seth left the office and made his way along the corridor down to the club. As he passed Jane’s office, he paused. He should apologize for being snappy. He also wanted to level with her. They both needed to put the past to one side and stop tip-toeing around each other. It was the only way they would be able to do this. He needed to make it clear that regardless of anything else, they couldn’t go back down that road. He raised his eyebrows. That was of course presuming she still had any feelings for him, of which he was unsure. Ok, so from his side, he needed to spell it out.
Seth tried the door handle. He knew he was lying to himself with his excuses. Regardless of what he should or shouldn’t be doing, he wanted to see her. Needed to see her. She was the only one who’d ever really understood him. That and he’d loved her. Still loved her.
Finding the door open, Seth walked into Jane’s office. Seeing the bathroom door closed, he sat down at her desk and poured himself a vodka whilst he waited.
Eventually the door opened and Jane walked out resplendent in a red dress, her raven hair cascading down to her waist in waves. “Seth!” she exclaimed, stopping stock still in the doorway of the bathroom. “I, er...”
Seth tried to act nonchalant, his feet up on the desk as he sipped at the vodka, when really his heart was thudding like a hammer. She is beautiful. She is my wife. “Didn’t mean to alarm you,” he said surprisingly steadily. “I felt I should apologize for snapping at you. It’s been a long day.”
Jane smiled and walked past him over to the sofa and picked up a small clutch bag. “There’s no need to apologize. Things can be a bit difficult sometimes, can’t they?”
Smelling the delicious scent of her perfume, Seth swallowed, determined not to show his want, but knew the lust was audible in his voice. “Well, that was also what I thought we should talk about.” Say it. Fucking say it Seth, even if you don’t mean it.
Nodding, Jane sat on the sofa and put her bag down. They did need a conversation, but she was going to have to pretend she didn’t care. He’d moved on remember? “Ok, yes. I think that’s a good idea.”
Seth moved his legs from the desk and placed them back to the floor. Topping up his glass, he raised the bottle to Jane. Seeing her nod, he filled another glass and took it over.
Jane watched Seth walk over, his muscled legs evident underneath the suit material. Her throat dry, she gladly took the glass he offered before sitting down next to her. Oh God, don’t sit next to me. Don’t sit next to me. She could already feel the pull.
Seth swallowed quickly. He shouldn’t have put himself in this situation, but it needed to be done for his own sanity. ‘I know things are difficult between us, but I think being as we’re going to be working together, at least for a short while, then we need to clear the air.’
Jane nodded slowly. Was he going to kiss her? Ask if they could give things another go?
“Look, we don’t need to walk on eggshells. It’s quite obvious we’ve both moved on with our lives. We can’t change the past, nor go back to it and there’s no point dragging it all up by talking about it. What’s done is done.” Seth smiled, hoping it looked genuine. His eyes lingered first on Jane’s impossibly long lashes and then back to her rosebud lips. That mouth. The taste of her lips were indelibly ingrained in his mind.
Jane stared at Seth, silently warning the tears threatening at the back of her eyes with certain death if they showed themselves. So he didn’t want her. Ok, make this good, Jane. Make it sound like you mean it.
She took another long swig of her vodka and smiled, ignoring the need to run her hands over his chest and sink her teeth into his throat. “I completely agree. Like you said, we’ve both got our own lives now. There’s absolutely no need to feel uncomfortable with each other. I’m glad you brought this up actually.”
Her eyes locked on his. “I’ve been thinking about it over the last few days and wanted to speak to you about it, but felt uncomfortable. Now you’ve made it clear you’ve moved on, it won’t be a problem.”
Seth couldn’t help himself. He sat forward abruptly on the sofa. “What? What is it?” She’d moved on. He knew it. Fucking KNEW it. Nausea rose from within him.
Jane waved her hand dismissively and smiled. She was doing well. “Now we know each other isn’t dead, I just wanted to check that there’s nothing legally binding in the hand fasting we had? We don’t need to get a divorce or anything?”
Seth’s eyebrows knitted together and his heat beat at an alarming rate. “Well, you would have if you hadn’t done what you did. We were due to get married in church as well if you remember, Jane!” he snapped. “But regardless of that, you’re still my wife. At least the way I see it.” Control yourself, Seth. STOP IT.
“Thought we weren’t going to bring up the past?” Jane fired back. He did care. He cared. Somehow she kept her face level.
Seth’s jaw set in a rigid line, but reminded himself to keep his cool. He couldn’t do this remember. He rose to his feet. “You’re right.” Offering his elbow out, he plastered on a smile. “Shall we?”
Grabbing her bag, Jane got to her feet hoping her shaking legs wouldn’t give way as she took Seth’s arm. “Let’s go”.
Feeling the jolt of electricity as Jane linked her arm in his, they made their way down to the club.
DESPITE THE SEVERAL drinks she’d downed to quell her nerves, Maggie still felt as nervous as hell and as uncomfortable as a fish out of water. She was attempting to avoid being drawn into as few conversations as possible and purposely avoided anyone’s eyes.
Judging by the host of stunningly beautiful women who clearly worked at the club, she wondered what on earth had possessed her for even a small amount of time, to think she’d have been able to pull off even a day’s work here compared to these girls. She must have been completely deranged to entertain the idea.
It wasn’t helping that the rest of the mourners at this wake were dodgy. She could tell them a mile off by the look in their eyes alone. She’d known enough people like this in the past to be able to make that judgment. Although here they were well-dressed in nicely made suits they still all had that unmistakeable look which ran across the board, of which no amount of money or good tailoring could hide.
It was bothering her. She’d sworn she’d never get involved in this kind of life again and now look at her. Everything was beginning to come full circle. Half of which included the same bloody people, she thought despairingly and nervously glanced in Digger and Phil’s direction.
There.
They were staring at her. She knew it. She knew they would spot her. Her pathetic attempt at convincing herself she could get through this anonymously had been ridiculous.
She’d only done this for Dan. He’d been really down lately and when he’d asked if she’d accompany him to the wake, she’d reluctantly agreed. He’d asked her to go the funeral too, but she’d insisted on declining that one. It was bad enough having to go to a wake of someone she’d never even met, but it was just plain wrong to go the bloody funeral.
Dan had gone though and Maggie wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but something had occurred to upset him. He’d turned up at her place in the worst mood ever, muttering something about Barry taking the van, leaving him high and dry and he’d had to walk four miles back.
Maggie glanced at Dan standing beside her. Even she could tell something was up because there was a weird air of tension she couldn’t describe.
Digger, Phil and Barry had only recently arrived and even the boss - this Sheila’s husband or fiancé - had been nowhere to be seen either. It had been a bit awkward. She’d also been looking for Jane since she’d got here. She needed to talk to her and find out what had been going on, but there wasn’t any sign of her at all either.
She was just about to turn to Dan to ask if he could get her another drink, even though the prospect of being left alone whilst he was at the bar was unnerving her, when Jane walked in.
“Oh my God...” Maggie exclaimed seeing she was with none other than Seth. She felt her legs go weak at the knees and began trembling. “Shit!” It was history repeating itself.
“What?” Dan asked, following Maggie’s gaze. “Oh, that’s Marie,” he frowned seeing her arm linked through Jim’s. “And that’s Jim. You know the one you’ve been constantly questioning me about.”
The irritation was clear in Dan’s voice. “I suggest you don’t give him the same Spanish inquisition you’ve been giving me. He’s not anywhere near as good-natured.”