The Stranger

by Mark Ayre

  “Damn, your hands are cold.” She pointed at Eddie. “I feel even more sorry for you now. Must have been like getting smacked by an ice block. A limp, soft ice block but still.”

  “Bad circulation,” said Eddie. “He’s always had that.”

  Always. Abbie looked from Eddie to Danny, noting the similarities. The puncher was like the punchee, only five years younger, less well-fed, and lacking a decent hairdresser. Brothers.

  Having stumbled as Abbie batted his hand, Danny’s anger was building. This didn’t worry Abbie. It must have concerned Eddie, who stepped forward and raised a palm towards his brother.

  “Calm down, Danny.” Turning to Abbie, he said, “My brother and I were having a discussion. Didn’t mean it to get heated, but you know what siblings are like.”

  “Not personally,” Abbie said, feeling the stab as her sister’s face came to mind. Her beautiful, perfect sister.

  “Well, Dan and I are like cats and dogs. Always have been. When I was fifteen, and he was ten, he pushed me out a window. All in good fun, of course.”

  “Naturally.”

  “So, would you mind leaving us to it? We got some stuff we need to discuss.”

  A need for late-night discussions seemed to be going around. Abbie glanced over Eddie’s shoulder to Dan. The younger brother was like a revving car, building up to blast off. He was all pent up anger and testosterone. He wanted to fight.

  Still, Abbie needed Eddie onside. A task that would be hard enough without her getting off on completely the wrong foot with the guy by punching his brother.

  “Alright,” she said. But Danny jumped in.

  “No. Forget it. We were done anyway.”

  Eddie’s face reddened. “No, we weren’t.”

  “Yeah, we was, and I need some sleep. You wanna speak again, we can do it tomorrow. Afternoon. I got people I need to see first.”

  Danny turned, entered the tunnel. Frustrated, exasperated, Eddie brushed past Abbie and rushed after his brother.

  “Don’t you walk away from me, Daniel. We’re not done.”

  “Piss off, Ed.”

  As Abbie entered the tunnel after the guys, Danny spun and punched Eddie in the face. Again. This time, Eddie fought back. Bending at the waist, he charged like a bull, smashing Danny in the stomach. Both men went down. Then they were on the floor, slapping and hitting and kicking. Two grown men, one late-twenties, the other early thirties, wrestling like children. Grown-up brothers, still fighting like cats and dogs.

  Danny produced another lucky shot. An elbow to the nose.

  Eddie screamed. Blood burst across the dark concrete and clothes of both fighters. While Eddie recoiled, grabbing his face, Danny leaned back, pulled in both legs, and fired them into his brother’s chest.

  With another howl, Eddie rolled away, and Danny was scrabbling to his feet. He pointed at Abbie.

  “Don’t try and stop me.”

  Abbie glanced at Eddie, writhing on the floor. Then back to Danny.

  “I shouldn’t need to. He’s done. You’ve won. Now walk away.”

  Perhaps Danny was not a bad guy. He was worked up. Something had pushed him over the edge, and now the anger flowed unopposed. He couldn’t contain it, couldn’t stop it.

  “He wants to control my life,” said Danny. “Gotta teach him a lesson.”

  Eddie had moved to his knees. Still, he held his face. Even in the dark, Abbie could see his hands were drenched with blood.

  “I would say you’ve made your point.”

  “No one asked you, bitch.”

  With a sigh, Abbie stepped over Eddie, putting herself between the brothers.

  “No one ever asks,” she said. “Problem is, I’m meddlesome. Nosy. Just can’t keep out of other people’s business. I know, such unattractive qualities.”

  “You said it.”

  She met his eye. Held it, even in the dark.

  “Come on,” she said. “It’s over. Walk away. Let your brother recover. You can meet for round two tomorrow.”

  Danny pretended to consider. Knowing he was too far down anger road to back away, Abbie wasn’t fooled. She remained tense, ready. She had offered him the chance to leave only to ease her conscience before he forced her to do him some damage.

  He said, “Fine.” Then charged.

  It was too easy—a tiny shift to the right. A half turn at the waist.

  These adjustments assured his left shoulder brushed past her chest. As it did, she grabbed his arm, stuck her knee in front of him and lifted her leg.

  Danny was wiry, Abbie strong. Neither quality was needed. Momentum did most the work. Abbie’s leg merely eased Danny off the ground, into the air, where he remained until greeted by the tunnel’s brick wall.

  With a yell, he rolled. A cut lined his right cheek. Come morning, his forehead would boast a bulbous bump. There would be plenty of pain. Already was.

  Despite this, he rose.

  “You should stop,” Abbie said, knowing he wouldn’t. “It needn’t get any worse for you.”

  But Danny was ashamed. A girl had put him on his backside. He couldn’t have that, could he?

  With a fist, he lashed out. A wild swing. Pathetic. With ease, Abbie knocked his arm aside, came forward, put a hand behind his head and forced a knee into his stomach. As he staggered, she slammed a boot into his knee, putting him to the ground with a scream.

  He lay on his front. That should have been the end. Could have been.

  Then he said, “Whore.”

  Abbie stamped on the small of his back. Once more, Danny screamed. While she walked away, he clutched his lower spine and began to sob, began to moan. He might have thrown some more insults, but they were strangled.

  Returning to Eddie, Abbie offered a hand. He was still on his knees. The blood had stopped flowing, though it covered his lower face, his hands, the upper segment of his top. He looked light-headed.

  “Come on.”

  A little dazed, he took her hand, let her pull him up. Once he was on his feet, he looked back to his groaning brother.

  “You hurt him.”

  “He’ll get over it. It’s not like I gave him cooties. Besides, he attacked you.”

  Eddie seemed to be swaying. When Abbie tried to take his arm to help steady him, he shook it off and almost went down.

  “We’re brothers,” he said. “We fight. Who are you anyway, because from where I’m standing, all you did was attack a stranger.”

  Abbie was nobody. Miss No One. Always the stranger. Eddie wouldn’t care for that answer, and it was too early to get into what she was to him. They didn’t know each other well enough. She couldn’t have him calling the men in white coats.

  “Didn’t look a harmless sibling squabble to me,” she said. “You want him to leave town. He wants to stay. Seems like he won’t be forced out. If I hadn’t been here, how far would he have gone to ensure you left him alone?”

  Eddie shook his head. Pushed past Abbie and started towards his brother.

  “You don’t know me or us,” he said as he left. “You know nothing about this situation, so why don’t you leave us alone?”

  “Your brother’s life is in danger, right?” Abbie said, following though he didn’t want to be followed. “You care about him. Want to make sure he’s safe, but he isn’t, as long as he’s in town.”

  “Go away.”

  “He won’t be leaving tonight,” she said. “Not in his condition. He needs somewhere to stay. Where will he sleep?”

  Eddie was leaning by his brother, who continued groaning, sobbing.

  “He can stay at mine,” Eddie said.

  “First place they’ll look.”

  Eddie glanced back. “What do you know? Who’s they?”

  Having only heard half the brothers’ conversation, and nothing concrete Abbie had little to go on. But at midnight, she had woken from a dream about Eddie. A dream in which his face was twisted with terror and pain. Upon arriving in Eddie’s town, the first place she’d visite
d had seen her end up in the middle of an altercation between a boy named Travis and a man named Ronson. The thug Ronson who Bobby believed worked for…

  “Francis Roberts.”

  Eyes widening, Eddie’s head whipped back to Abbie.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  When it came to Abbie’s dreams and the action she took as a result of them, there was no such thing as coincidence. No honest explanation of how she knew Francis was the man who threatened Danny’s life would yet be acceptable to Eddie, just as he would not accept who she was to him. She had to tread carefully. Extra carefully, given how he had reacted to her assault on his brother.

  “Francis Roberts looms large over this community,” she said. “But he’s known elsewhere. People beyond the town limits worry about his actions. Your brother’s in danger. Believe it or not, I can help.”

  There was little truth in this. Her words were vague enough that Eddie could read what he wanted into them. She could only pray he was in a frame of mind to want to be helped. To want to take a chance on a perfect stranger.

  At first, he said nothing to Abbie. He returned to his brother and slipped a hand under Danny’s arm.

  “Come on, mate. Let’s get you up.”

  Danny came, with more moaning and groaning than Abbie thought his condition warranted. From a couple of metres back, she watched. She feared if she was closer, Danny might chance another attack. She wasn’t afraid he would hurt her but that she might do further damage. That would be as bad for relations with Eddie as it would be for her soul.

  “Bitch cheated,” Danny was muttering. “And I think she’s broken my bones.”

  “Sounds like your jaw’s doing alright,” Abbie said. She couldn’t help herself.

  “I think you should go home,” said Eddie. Keeping himself between Danny and Abbie, he propped his brother up and began to walk him down the tunnel.

  “From what I know, Francis is a ruthless man surrounded by ruthless cronies,” Abbie said to Eddie’s back.

  The guys paused. Eddie said, “What’s your point?”

  “You’re going to take Danny to your home. What happens if Francis’ boys find him there?” She paused for dramatic effect. “Didn’t I overhear your wife’s pregnant?”

  Eddie spun. Danny staggered. Almost fell. Once he steadied himself, he stared at Abbie with wide eyes as Eddie approached her.

  Abbie’s palms were sweaty. She realised one of them was on her stomach and dragged it away. Her heart was racing. It was nothing to do with Eddie. She imagined a woman with a bump. A baby kicking. If she didn’t pull herself together, she would be sick. The sea seemed to be rushing in her ears. She had to focus on Eddie’s lips to know what he was saying.

  “Don’t talk about my wife.”

  “Don’t misunderstand me,” she said. “I’m saying this because I don’t want anything to happen to your wife. All I’m suggesting is you keep Danny out the way until tomorrow. He can use my hotel room.”

  Still, Abbie’s heart was pounding. Her words weren’t coming with any surety. Was that a baby’s cry she could hear in the distance? No. Her mind. Stupid, messed up mind.

  Eddie might have seen her struggle when he looked into her face. After taking a deep breath, he looked back at Danny.

  “You shouldn’t stay at mine.”

  “I can stay at mine,” Danny said.

  “Out of the question.”

  “You ain’t my boss.”

  Ignoring this childish remark, Eddie returned to Abbie. Looked her up and down as though he might have missed the knife in her hand or the slogan on her T-shirt: I like to murder people called Danny while they sleep.

  “I’ve no idea who you are. You must be crazy to think I’d leave my brother with you overnight.”

  “You think, what, I’m a plant?” Abbie shook her head. “Is that Francis’ style?.”

  “No,” said Danny, but Eddie shrugged.

  “I don’t know enough about him to take the risk.”

  “Then don’t. Danny can have my hotel room. I’ll sleep elsewhere.”

  Eddie shook his head. “You could sneak back in the night.”

  Abbie watched Eddie’s eyes, watched his expression shift and change. He was in turmoil. He didn’t trust her. He feared for his brother’s life. He was also out of his depth. He wanted a reason to believe her. If she could just nudge him in the right direction…

  It came in a flash. Danny could stay at the hotel. Abbie could be somewhere she couldn’t possibly sneak off to do any killing.

  Smiling at Eddie, she said, “Do you have a spare room?”

  Four

  It was 03:47 when Eddie pulled into the driveway of his worn three-bedroom terrace house. He stopped the car, and the light above their heads came on, illuminating them in an eerie glow.

  For the entirety of the short drive, Eddie had kept his eyes on the road. This was the safe thing to do. Abbie sensed his main reason for keeping his neck so straight was that he feared looking at Abbie, lest it force him to consider his choices.

  When the car stopped and that soft yellow glow kicked in, he couldn’t help himself. Hands stuck to the wheel, he turned her way. While they were driving, Abbie had pushed her hood down and brushed her hair over her shoulder. When he looked at her, not a strand obscured her face. She didn’t look away nor blink. He wanted to read something in her expression. Whatever, let him try. She needed his trust and quickly. Time was running out.

  After thirty seconds, he looked away. He thumped the steering wheel then forced his hands into his lap. Abbie watched this show without comment. They were both facing the house when Eddie kicked off the conversation.

  “This is such a mess.”

  “Family,” said Abbie. “Who’d have them?”

  “Yeah, well. It’s tough. We lost our parents when I was twenty-four. Danny was nineteen. Still living at home. He should have been taking those last steps into proper adulthood, and he went completely off the rails. I’ve tried my best. Tried to keep him on the straight and narrow, but what would I have to give up to ensure he never strayed? I’d have to be a full-time carer, but I have a job, a wife, a home. A baby soon.”

  Abbie closed her eyes. There were those distant wails again. A baby in need of its mummy. Her hand drifted to her stomach, and she yanked it off. Eddie looked to her lap, then back to her face.

  “Now I’m sitting in my car talking to a stranger,” he said. “A stranger who came out of nowhere, attacked my brother, then offered him a room. What’s that about?”

  “Actually, he attacked me.”

  “Whatever. It’s not right. Shows how messed up my life’s got, how complicated, that I’d even consider taking your help. No offence.”

  “None taken.”

  “This is a one-night thing,” he said. “You’ll take the spare room. It’s right next to mine, and I’m on edge. I won’t be sleeping soundly. You try to leave, I’ll hear. Got it?”

  “Received and understood.”

  He glared. Was Abbie taking the piss? He was too tired, drained, to push the matter. He went on.

  “You wake up before me, you stay put. You do not leave that room until I fetch you, okay?”

  “Got it,” she said. “You’re the dog, I’m the stick. You’ll fetch me.”

  Another glare. Once more, Eddie pushed on without chastising. What a champ.

  “Before I get you, I’ll have to find a way to explain all this to Jess. Christ, what’s she going to say?”

  “Jess is your wife?” Abbie ventured.

  “My pregnant wife,” Eddie said, as though this was an important distinction. “Which is to say she’s all over the place emotionally. One minute she’s sobbing her eyes out, then screaming in my face, then dragging—“ He stopped. His face flushed.

  “You into bed?”

  A third glare, only for a second, then his eyes softened. Once again, he took the time to examine Abbie's face. If he noticed her discomfort, it didn’t bother him.

  �
��This is such a bad idea.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m guessing you don’t have a pregnant wife—“

  “Don’t assume.”

  “—Because if you did, you’d know bringing a beautiful woman to the home you share with said pregnant wife is not a smart play. Ever. But especially at four in the morning.”

  “Four is worse than three?”

  No glare. This time a sigh.

  “Sorry,” said Abbie. “Using humour to deflect from my embarrassment at you calling me beautiful. I’m very insecure.”

  “Self-aware, too, huh?”

  “When you spend 95% of your time alone, and you don’t have Netflix, self-analysis becomes a major hobby.”

  Eddie shook his head. Frustrated. Exasperated. Abbie tended to have that effect on people.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “Your wife won’t think we’ve had sex. Unless you like it real rough.”

  “What?”

  Abbie reached across Eddie, and he flinched as though afraid she was about to unzip his fly. Instead, she reached up and pulled down the sun-visor on his side of the car. Behind a grey flap, she found a mirror, revealing it to Eddie.

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Ah. Might want to wash that off when we get in.”

  Raising a hand, Eddie touched his face as though sure the dried blood must be an illusion. Somehow, under the power of the light, it didn’t look quite so bad as it had in the darkness of the tunnel. Still, it was immediately noticeable. As was the fact that his nose was out of shape. After touching his cheek, Eddie reached next for his nose and tapped the end, then winced in pain.

  “Jess is going to go mental.”

  “I can fix that,” said Abbie, gesturing to Eddie’s nose. “Want me to?”

  She had her hand up. When Eddie saw it, he shook his head with a vigour that suggested Abbie had offered him an aggressive rectal exam.

  Abbie shrugged. Said, “Fine,” then whipped her hand across the car and shoved the nose back into place.

  Eddie screamed.

  “Oh, don’t be a baby.”

  “You bitch.”