ASBO: A Thriller Novel Page 13

  “Hey,” Frankie shouted. “Watch where you’re stabbing. You’ll end up killing the geezer. Stick to slices, no stabs.”

  Davie sat up straight, buoyed by his big brother’s comment. Maybe he doesn’t want to kill anyone after all. Why else would he have just told Shell to be careful?

  “Isn’t that what you want?” Michelle asked Frankie.

  “No,” Frankie replied. “Not yet, at least. Got to make him feel it first.”

  Davie sighed. The brief glimmer of hope faded away. This couldn’t go on any longer, surely? What more damage could Frankie do? This family would never be the same again, but perhaps Rebecca still had a chance though. She could still get through this in one piece if it all ended now. Davie closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and made a decision. It’s time I put a stop to this. I have to stand up to Frankie.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Andrew was afraid, he could not deny that, but there was a strength inside him now that he’d never known existed before. The pain he’d experienced, and was still yet to experience, was not enough to break him – in fact it had only made his resolve stronger. He would not beg, he would not plead. The hell Frankie had put him through changed something in Andrew. He had seen into the depths of his own physical being – the fathoms of his soul – and knew now that he would never stop fighting for his family.

  Things had changed when Frankie slashed Pen’s face. The pain of seeing his wife’s beautiful features disfigured found its way past Andrew’s barriers and struck right at his heart. A pressure grew inside his chest that threatened to explode his very being.

  Frankie approached him with a new weapon – one he hadn’t yet used. He held the pliers at arm’s length and snapped them shut menacingly. “Time for your dental appointment, sir.”

  Andrew sighed and let his head drop to his chest, mentally preparing himself for yet another onslaught of agony. He sent his mind to a meditative place of calm indifference, seeking out a sliver of emotional sanctuary. It was a place inside of himself that he’d not known existed before tonight. Pain and suffering had forced it into existence; rending itself into Andrew’s psyche out of necessity and survival.

  “I’ve never done a root canal before,” said Frankie, “but I’m sure it’ll go alright. What do you think?”

  Andrew said nothing. If he did, then the animal might hurt his family again. Whatever happened, Andrew would bare it – or at least tolerate it – as long as it was done only to him.

  Frankie grabbed Andrew’s lower jaw with his grubby fingers and yanked it open. “Dear, oh, dear. That’s some very bad tooth decay you have there. I think we’re going to have to get those teeth out ASAP. Every single one of them.”

  The twins and Michelle gave a cheer as if it were the most exciting thing they’d ever heard. Andrew wondered if it was the drugs that made them this way, or if they were genuinely wicked. They aren’t human beings any more; they’re baying dogs – hyenas.

  Frankie shushed everyone into silence and started his procedure. Andrew spluttered and coughed as the pliers entered his mouth. They scratched against his tongue and clinked against his teeth, sending aching shudders down the roots. The steel tongs clamped down on either side of a molar and Andrew felt the tooth crack beneath the sudden pressure. Agony exploded thorough his lower jaw and gradually travelled upwards to consume his entire face. His vision blurred as the pliers twisted side to side, yanking and wrenching the tooth away from the gum, millimetre by excruciating millimetre. Andrew did not lose consciousness, despite coming extremely near, and was still awake to see Frankie successfully extract the molar and hold it up in front of him like a grisly trophy. Andrew’s mouth filled with hot, metallic blood, so much that he thought he might drown in it. He spat endlessly to keep his mouth clear and the sight of all the gore made a massive grin stretch across Frankie’s twitching face. Rebecca looked away, unable to watch. Pen remained fixated on the ceiling.

  “That shit is gross,” said Dom from a couple of meters away. “I could puke!”

  “Pull another one,” Michelle screeched. “Do another before he passes out.”

  Frankie took the pointed piece of enamel from the pliers and examined it between his fingers. He showed it to Andrew and waved it a couple of inches in front of his nose. “Mind if I keep this?”

  The question disturbed Andrew. It was the type of thing a serial killer would do, keep a memento of his victim. The notion of dying tonight was becoming more and more a reality to Andrew, but so was something else: If Frankie was going to kill him, he wouldn’t just stop there – couldn’t stop there. Pen and Bex were witnesses and he couldn’t afford to keep them around. If Andrew didn’t get free, Frankie would kill Andrew and his family.

  “Time for the next tooth,” said Frankie, clicking the pliers open and shut like the mouth of a crocodile. Blood still dripped from the implement.

  “STOP IT!”

  Andrew leant sideways and glanced around Frankie. Behind him, Davie had stood up beside the sofa and was now facing down his brother.

  Frankie spun around. “What the fuck, Davie?”

  Davie’s eyes narrowed beneath the bandage around his forehead. His slim shoulders were rigid and tense. “I’m done with this, Frankie! You’ve hurt these people enough and I can’t take any more of this sick shit. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Andrew couldn’t see Frankie’s face now, his back was turned, but he could tell by the unmoving body language that he was dumbfounded by his little brother’s sudden outburst.

  “What’s your problem?” he asked. “This goddamn pedo ran you the- fuck-over.”

  “It was an accident,” said Davie, “and it happened because I was running away after what you did to that girl at the chip shop. If you hadn’t taken me along I wouldn’t have run, and I wouldn’t have gotten hit by any car.”

  “You keep your mouth shut about that. You want me to get pinched?”

  Davie shook his head, exasperated. “You’re already going to get pinched. You’re planning on killing people tonight.”

  So I was right, Andrew thought grimly. The psychopath really does have it in him to commit murder.

  “So what.” said Frankie. “Shit happens. Long as we’re smart about it, no one will pin a thing on us.”

  “Us? Us? I want nothing to do with this whole mess. This is all down to you and your shit-faced mates.”

  “Hey man, that’s not cool,” said Jordan, from the floor.

  “No,” Frankie agreed. “Not cool at all.” He walked forward and prodded a finger into Davie’s chest. “Now you chill the fuck out, little bro, or things are going to end badly for you.”

  Davie didn’t budge an inch. “I love you, Frankie, but if you carry on hurting these people I ain’t your bro no more.”

  Frankie was silent for a while as he seemed to consider his next words. “You sure you want things to go down like that?”

  Davie nodded and stood firm, not breaking eye contact for a single second.

  Andrew sat and watched from the armchair, breathless, waiting for an outcome to this familial confrontation – it was very likely that his life could hang in the balance. At least, if anything, he had judged Davie correctly at the beginning – the boy was nothing like his older brother. The boy had true courage.

  “I let them go, I go down,” said Frankie. “You want that?”

  Davie sighed. “Course not.”

  “So what then? What would you have me do, Davie? You seem to be the one with all the bloody answers, so please enlighten me.”

  Davie shrugged. “Just leave. They won’t say anything.”

  Frankie laughed his head off. “You shitting me? Course they will!”

  “Not if you threaten to send someone round to finish the job. Just like the kid you burned in the bathtub – nothing gets said to the police and everything stays cool.”

  Everything will not be cool, thought Andrew as he looked across at his catatonic wife, bleeding from her butchered face beneath a b
ald head. This isn’t going to end with you just walking away scot free, Frankie. No way in hell.

  Frankie took some time to think about things. Andrew took the same time to do some thinking of his own. If Frankie did leave now, then the first thing Andrew would do was call the police. But if Frankie stayed, then he most certainly intended to commit murder. If that was the outcome then Andrew wasn’t going to go down without a fight. The agony of his tooth extraction had reawakened his senses to the point that they were now on high alert – he felt superhuman. If Andrew was going to save his family it would be now.

  “I’m sorry,” Frankie told his brother earnestly. “I can’t leave things like this. I have to ride this till the end.”

  I’ll end it for you right now, you son of a bitch.

  Andrew leapt from the armchair, ignoring the searing agony of his wounded calf, and barrelled into the back of Frankie as hard as he could. The body tackle sent Frankie forward with enough force that he flipped clear over the room’s coffee table and landed awkwardly on his shoulder. Like angry bees, the twins and Michelle were on Andrew in an instant.

  He lunged aside as Dom made an attempt to tackle him. The lad went tumbling into the TV stand headfirst. Without thinking, Andrew swung his leg viciously, connected with the boy’s ribs, and enjoyed the crunching impact. Michelle attacked next, the little harlot screeching at him like a medieval warmaiden. Andrew had no time to consider the ethics of hitting a girl, and threw the hardest punch he could muster. Lips and teeth mushed beneath his colliding fist and Michelle flew backwards, already unconscious on her way down to the floor.

  Last up was Jordan. His attack was more effective, coming at Andrew with his arms wide, embracing him in a crushing bear hug and ramming him into the nearest wall. Andrew lost his breath as his cracked ribs impacted against the hard surface. Unable to free his arms, he did the only thing he could think of: he bit Jordan in the face as hard as he could. Andrew felt his teeth slice through the succulent flesh of the boy’s cheek and felt almost orgasmic as agonised screams – that for once were not his own – filled the living room. He bit down harder, not releasing his grip until a fatty chunk of flesh fell away in his mouth. Andrew spat the morsel onto the carpet and pushed the shuddering teenager away.

  Andrew felt as though he was outside of his body now. His rage-infected limbs coursed with murderous intent. After being captured and subdued like an animal, he was finally free – and all he wanted now was to see the blood of his captors flowing as freely as his own.

  But before he had a chance to sow his vengeance and free his family, Andrew found himself once again powerless. Frankie stood in front of the sofa, a knife around Bex’s throat. She was still bound and gagged, and Andrew could tell by his daughter’s eyes that she was terrified.

  “Just let her go, Frankie, and I’ll let you walk out of here alive.”

  Frankie cackled. “You’ll let me walk out of here alive. It’s you that’s a dead man.”

  “I don’t think so. Shoe’s on the other foot now. I’m going to rip you apart first opportunity I get. Best chance you’ve got is to run.”

  Frankie stared at Andrew as if he were insane. “You for real? I’d kill you before you even got close to me. I’m Frankie-fucking-Walker.”

  Andrew shook his head. “You’re just a silly child who got his ass passed around in prison. We all feel sorry for you, Francis – but you made a huge mistake when you took it out on my family.”

  Davie entered the conversation, standing between them. Jordan was still screaming in pain and had rushed into the kitchen to tend to the ripped-open flesh of his face, his brother, Dom, lay on the floor rubbing his shoulder, while Michelle was still unconscious. Davie put a hand up to Andrew and Frankie, like a referee at an out-of-hand boxing match. “Let’s just keep things calm, okay? If you stay where you are, Andrew, we’ll all get out of your house right now.”

  “Like fuck we will,” said Frankie, still holding Rebecca at knifepoint.

  Davie turned to his brother. “This has gone tits-up, man. Just think for a second. We need to leave.”

  Frankie stared at his younger brother and eventually let out a sigh. “You’re right. This shit is a big time fail.”

  Davie nodded. “So let’s not make it any worse.”

  Frankie nodded. “Okay, man. Dom, get up off the floor and fetch your brother out the kitchen. Then the both of you get Michelle and carry her useless ass out of here.” Frankie turned his attention to Andrew, his eyes narrowed. “You come after me, gangster, and I’ll put you down for good. Then someone will come and sort your family out for good. Same thing will happen if you go to the police. You get me?”

  Andrew said nothing. He didn’t need to involve himself in worthless banter with a degenerate like Frankie – he could see through it all now. The police would get a call the moment he left, and if anyone came after Andrew’s family afterwards they would be made to regret it.

  “Let my daughter go!” It wasn’t Andrew who spoke, it was Pen. She’d stood up from the sofa and was clutching the scissors in her hand. No one had seen her grab them, but in the ruckus that had erupted earlier she would have had every chance to take them unnoticed.

  “Let her go,” Pen repeated, pointing the scissors at Frankie’s face to further her point.

  “Or else what, you bald bitch?” said Frankie.

  “Let her go, now!”

  Andrew called out to his wife and tried to calm her down. The situation was nearly over and she didn’t need to do this. “Honey, come over to me. Everything is going to be okay in just a minute.”

  But she wasn’t listening.

  “Listen to your husband, sweetheart. You ain’t gonna be doing nuffin.” Frankie spat across the room and hit her in the chest. “Now fuck off!”

  Pen rushed at Frankie with the scissors held high, her face contorted in a witch-like grimace of utter hatred and malevolence. Frankie spun to meet her head on, holding Bex in front of him as a shield. Their bodies collided and the scissors disappeared between them.

  Andrew’s heart froze, along with every other muscle of his body. The next several seconds passed like an eternity as his family and Frankie fumbled about in a panicked scuffle. Frankie pushed Bex against her mother and stepped away. Andrew saw the blood. Then he saw the scissors jutting out from his daughter’s stomach as she fell to the floor in shock. Pen looked down at Bex and let out an inhuman wail. She lunged at Frankie again, aiming her sharp fingernails at his remorseless eyes.

  Frankie struck out with the knife. Pen stumbled right into it. There was no sound as the blade entered the soft tissue of her throat and, for a moment, Andrew wasn’t sure if the injury was as real as it looked. When blood spurted high enough to coat the ceiling, the reality of the situation became undeniably real.

  “Stupid bitch,” said Frankie, looking down at her. “Dom, Jordan, go get Michelle, right now. We’re leaving.”

  Andrew dropped to his knees, oblivious to the escaping teenagers who had made his life hell before destroying it entirely. The only things that existed in his life right now were Penelope and Rebecca, and both of them were slipping away on his living room floor.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Shit, man. This is bad. This is really bad. Why the hell did you do that, Frankie?” Davie struggled to keep up with the others as they ran deeper into the estate, passing by shadowy rows of houses that were becoming progressively smaller and unkempt. Usually Davie would have been faster than the lot of them, but with his throbbing concussion he could manage no more than a lolloping jog.

  Frankie slowed down ahead and allowed Davie to catch up. “Bitch had it coming,” he said, breathlessly. “She came at me like a nutcase, you saw it.”

  “I saw you drive a knife into her neck when you could just as easily have punched her out.”

  Frankie shrugged. It was an awkward movement to make while running. “It’s done now. No point stressing about it.”

  Davie reached out and grabbed his brother�
��s jacket, dragging them both to a stop. “You’re tripping. The police will be after us all within the next two minutes. There’re two women bleeding to death back there because of you!”

  “Because of us.”

  Davie shook his head, dismayed by the suggestion that he was to blame for any part of this. “What the hell did I do?”

  “You distracted me enough that Andrew could take a shot at me. Everything went schitzo after that. If you’d just kept your gob shut then everything would have been okay. I was just about to let them go; figured I’d scared them enough to get the message across.”

  “Bullshit,” said Davie, hoping that there was no truth to his brother’s words. If there was then he was indeed responsible. “You told everyone you were going to kill the guy.”

  “Course I did,” said Frankie. “I wanted Andrew to shit himself. I weren’t gonna do it, though. You think I’m a complete muppet or something?”

  Davie shook his head. He was feeling dizzy again and couldn’t wait to find his way to a bed. Were his actions really the cause of what had happened? Davie wasn’t sure he could live with himself if they were. He stared at Frankie and concentrated on his brother’s reactions. “You were really just going to let them go?”

  Frankie put a hand on Davie’s shoulder and looked him dead in the eye. “I swear! They were just at the breaking point where they would never have said boo to a goose. The pigs would never have known. Now, though…”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Frankie patted Davie on the back and got them both moving again. Up ahead, the twins, and a semi-conscious Michelle, were waiting for them. “We’re going to go see a mate of mine and lay low for a while at his gaff. We’ll get our stories straight and decide what to do.”

  Davie nodded. “Okay. Who’s this mate? Can we trust him?”

  “Yeah,” said Frankie. “It’s him I’ve been dealing product for. Well, his old man, really, but he was in the same nick for a stretch when I was.”