by Aidan Thorn
“I bet my dear old brother is in fucking bits right now.” Graham’s grin was wide. “Fuck, I’d love to be a fly on a wall near him right now. Fucking ruined that cunt good and proper, didn’t I?”
The question was rhetorical and if it hadn’t been Ian wouldn’t have responded anyway. He didn’t care one way or another that the girl was dead, but he didn’t see how Graham could be enjoying it quite as much as he appeared to be.
“I’m going to have to disappear for a couple of weeks, just keep a low profile while the fucker grieves good and proper. Wouldn’t want him catching up with me before I’m ready to finish him off. I want him to have a nice long grieve before I finish him and that perfect little wife of his. I’ll give Tom a call, get him to put me up for a while. I’ll take Jim with me, just to be safe. You’ll be alright keeping an eye on things around town for a while, won’t you?”
“Sure, no bother.”
“Good man. You know I’d take you instead of Jim, but you know how it is, he was dumb as fuck before getting knocked out, he’s flakey as fuck now. I can’t leave him in charge of things.”
“Don’t worry about it, boss. I’ve got you covered. Just one question, what should I do about the lad?”
“What lad?”
“The one you’ve got me keeping an eye on at my place—the lad Ryan from the Bear and Stag.”
“Oh him, well he’s served his purpose, might as well cut him loose. It’s been a pain in the arse having Jim go over and take care of his old ma every fucking day. She’s daft as fuck, doesn’t know what day it is, and as funny as it is that Jim’s having to empty her piss and feed her, I could do with him doing something a little more useful.”
Neither Ian nor Jim could really understand why Graham had given a shit that Ryan’s mother was looked after while the lad was indisposed, maybe his own mother’s death had affected him more than he was showing. Ian was just grateful he wasn’t being asked to kill Ryan or his mother. The killing didn’t bother him—they wouldn’t be his first—but getting rid of the bodies did. He wasn’t as young as he used to be and lumping bodies about and digging holes was hard work—he really needed to get back in shape.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tom ran a B&B about thirty minutes outside the town. He never liked putting Graham up—if Graham was in hiding there was always the potential for trouble— but when the call had come in he’d said yes. What else could he do? And so, once Jim had finished his rounds with Ryan’s mother, the pair set off for their temporary home.
Ian went back to his own place. He knocked on Frank’s door before heading inside—there was still no answer. Maybe he was sleeping, maybe he’d taken himself off drinking—he was big enough and ugly enough to take care of himself, he’d find his way home at some point. Ian had problems of his own, one of which he was about to shake loose. Back across the road at his own house he unlocked the garage door and rolled the heavy door upwards. It was dark inside and as the limited light from the street outside hit the back of the cold empty space Ryan bunched himself into a defensive ball on the battered mattress that Ian had put there for him against the back wall. Ian stood in the wide doorway and called out.
“Go on then, off you fuck, son.”
Ryan’s head poked out from the thin sleeping bag that he’d wrapped himself in.
“Seriously, lad, fuck off, you’re free to go and I’ve got shit I need to do.” Ian confirmed.
Ryan stood slowly, letting the sleeping bag fall to the ground. He had a sense that there was a trick in this somewhere, but he wasn’t going to give Ian a chance to change his mind and sprinted past him as quickly as his jellied legs would carry him.
After a stop at home to check on his mother and find that she’d more than likely been oblivious to his disappearance Ryan jumped in his car and headed straight for Zoe’s house. He pounded on the front door and didn’t stop until it was opened. Kyle stood in front of him, his face raw from tears and a picture of confusion as he stared upon the face of the lad he only knew as the barman from the pub. Ryan hadn’t registered Kyle’s distress or confusion, his mind was one tracked.
“I need to see Zoe. Is she home? I really need to see her.”
“What are you…How do you know Zoe…Hang on, are you the fucking lad that broke her heart?”
Kyle reached out and grabbed Ryan by the collar and dragged him into the house. He pinned him hard against the hallway wall and spat in his face as he yelled at him. Ryan didn’t hear the words, he just wanted to see Zoe and kept yelling that back at him.
“What’s going on? Who’s he?” Emma asked as she appeared in the hallway to see what the noise was.
“This is the little prick that broke Zoe’s heart, it’s his fault,” Kyle said, fresh tears welling in his eyes.
“I didn’t want to break her heart, I was forced to. I love her, I’ve come to tell her.”
Kyle lessened his grip, just enough to let some blood flow.
“What do you mean you were forced to?”
“I’ll explain everything to Zoe, I just need to see her. Where is she?”
“She’s dead,” Emma said in a weak voice that sounded like she was just trying the words out and didn’t like the way they sounded.
“Dead?” There was shock and fear in Ryan’s tone as he realised the weight Emma’s words carried.
In the living room Ryan explained to Kyle, Emma and Frank what had happened two nights before at the Bear and Stag. He explained the events of a week or so before when Graham, Ian and Jim had been waiting for him outside his house and convinced him to ask Zoe out. He explained how since the night before last, he had been hauled up in Ian’s garage, afraid to make a sound for fear that they’d kill his mother and him.
“If I’d known what was happening with Zoe, I’d have torn the door down to get out,” Ryan said in a broken voice.
Emma’s mothering instinct kicked in and she moved to comfort Ryan as he finished his tale. Kyle’s eyes burned into Frank’s. They’d all sat in stunned silence as Ryan had spoken.
Kyle exploded.
“Do you see what you’ve created?” he yelled at Frank. “Do you see what you’ve enabled your son to become? A murdering cunt, who doesn’t care who he hurts and now his own niece, your granddaughter, is lying dead on a table somewhere just because he wanted to get at me. Get the fuck out of this house and never fucking contact us again. Go on, fuck off.”
Frank didn’t speak as he stood and left. He looked back at the room. Kyle’s stare confirmed that he meant his words. Emma couldn’t look at him at all.
“I’m going out,” Kyle announced.
“Where are you going? I need you here,” Emma said.
“I need to do something, I won’t be long, it’s important—it’s for Zoe. Ryan, can you sit with Emma for a while?”
Ryan nodded vacantly. His whole world had changed in the past week or so, and now it had changed again.
“There’s nothing you can do for Zoe now,” Emma said in a feeble voice.
It was too late. Kyle had left.
Chapter Twenty-Two
He drove fast, too fast for the slick wet roads and fog, but Kyle needed to get to Frank’s house before Frank did. Frank didn’t drive, he’d got a taxi when Emma had called, he was probably walking now and Kyle doubted he was even heading straight home. But he drove too fast anyway.
He let himself into his old family home and made his way to the living room. He hadn’t changed out of his running gear and dragged his muddy feet through the house. He swung doors open violently and they smashed against walls and furniture as he checked every room. Frank wasn’t home. Kyle’s eye was caught in the living room. The space where his mother had been each day he’d visited sat sad and empty, but he noticed what was beside it. A framed picture of Violet stood on a side table, it hadn’t been there during any of his previous visits, it hadn’t been there during the wake yesterday. She was young in the picture, it was from before
Kyle was born. If she’d known the photo was being taken Kyle would have been surprised, she wasn’t looking directly into the camera and it wasn’t posed—she looked happy. It was a great photo. He wanted to break the frame and take the picture. But he didn’t.
He continued to search the house. He pulled drawers out and left them upturned on the floor, the contents staying where they fell. Wardrobe and cupboard doors remained open once searched, clothes were thrown, crockery pushed aside and broken. The destruction wasn’t necessary, but it helped. Kyle found what he was looking for behind the bath panel in the en suite bathroom. He didn’t bother shutting the front door as for the very last time he left the house he’d grown up in so long ago.
Frank Gordon watched as Kyle walked with purpose from his home, jumped in his car and sped off. It had been more years than Frank cared to remember since he’d last ran but he broke into a canter that would do him no good after the twenty-minute walk. He ignored the wreckage of Kyle’s search and headed straight to the en suite, his heart sinking when he saw the bath panel thrown across the room.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Can you take me back to where you were being held?”
Kyle hadn’t sat down, he stood in the doorway to the living room. He was breathing heavy. Ryan and Emma gazed at him, scared by the look in his eyes.
“Where have you been?” Emma asked.
“Can you take me back there?”
Kyle ignored Emma’s question like he hadn’t even heard it, his only focus being on Ryan.
“Yes,” Ryan said.
There was no confidence in Ryan’s voice. It almost sounded like a question and his eyes flickered between Kyle and Emma as he responded, like he was looking to her for some sort of help—exactly what she could do for him he wasn’t sure.
“Come on then,” Kyle said, annoyed at the delay.
Ryan stood and again looked to Emma.
“Kyle what are you going to do? Please don’t do anything stupid!”
Emma’s pleading was too late. Kyle’s mind was made up. The Gordon family would be losing another member today.
Kyle had Ryan drive, he was in no mood to listen to directions. When they pulled up on the road he’d left only half an hour before Kyle’s heart raced. Had Frank been in on this thing with Graham?
“It’s that one over there,” Ryan said.
He pointed out a house across the road from Frank’s, a little further up the street.
“Right, put the car on the street around the corner and wait for me there, OK?”
Kyle didn’t want Frank looking out of the window and seeing his car parked on the street. Ryan was growing increasingly terrified by what he found himself wrapped up in, but he nodded. As Kyle climbed out of the car the bulge in the back of his running clothes was clear to see. Ryan wondered about putting the car around the corner and just running, but then he thought about Zoe. He thought about the sweet girl from south of the boarder he had fallen in love with and how she looked the last time he saw her, perfect, happy, beautiful. His Zoe.
He thought about the things they’d made him do.
He’d stay.
Kyle knocked on the door with the gun he’d taken from underneath his parents’ bath. He was sizing up the glass panel to the side of the door when it opened.
Ian’s face drained as he looked upon the rabid features of Kyle Gordon and the gun he held, outstretched and aimed at his head.
“Inside, slowly,” Kyle instructed. “Don’t turn around, walk backwards.”
Ian held his hands out to his side, palms facing towards Kyle in a submissive gesture and did as instructed.
“Where are we going?” Ian asked., He was trying to sound calm, like he was taking control of the situation, but the fear was clear.
Kyle flicked the gun, gesturing towards the kitchen at the end of the hallway.
“Take a seat,” Kyle said, gesturing to Ian’s breakfast bar.
Ian did as instructed.
“I didn’t know he was planning to kill her. I thought he was just trying to get closer to her to piss you off.”
Kyle paced around the kitchen, never taking his eyes off Ian. Ian in turn tried to keep his eyes on Kyle, but it was difficult from his seated position. He was trying to give the impression that he was calm, despite being anything but.
“You’re not too bright, are you? You didn’t think maybe Ryan would lead me straight back here?” Kyle asked from behind Ian.
The thought hadn’t occurred to Ian, he’d just been glad to be shot of the lad. That he was the smart one in Graham’s crew really showed the level at which they operated.
“You know, the weird thing is I know where you live, but I’ve never bothered to find out where my own brother lives,” Kyle continued. “I’ve never been interested before—but guess what, I am now.”
“It won’t do you any good knowing, he’s not there.”
“But I bet you know where he is.”
Kyle’s voice was close. Ian hadn’t heard him approach, but suddenly the former soldier was right behind him. Ian turned instinctively and felt a searing pain in the hand he’d used to brace his turn. A kitchen knife stuck out from the back of his hand. It had pierced straight through skin and flesh to penetrate the breakfast bar and fix him in place. Ian started to yell but Kyle stifled the sound with his left hand, maintaining pressure on the knife with his right. He leaned against Ian, pinning him with his body weight.
“Now, I’m going to take my hand away and you’re not going to make a sound, or this knife will be making a nice clean line across your throat. Thanks for keeping it so sharp, by the way. Right, I’m taking my hand away, do we understand each other?”
Ian nodded, a fast, pained nod and Kyle took the hand away slowly, still pinning his victim’s hand with the knife and pressing him into his seat. If Ian tried to move even an inch, Kyle would feel it and the knife would be called into action. Ian glanced over Kyle’s shoulder and saw Kyle’s gun lying next to the knife block on the counter.
“Oh, don’t worry about that, we won’t be needing it,” Kyle said. “And if you’ve got any ideas about rushing me and getting to it first, just try me. Now, where’s Graham?”
“What good is telling you going to do me? I’m dead either way, right?”
“It doesn’t have to go that way. Maybe I lock you in your garage until I’ve dealt with my brother. I hear it’s pretty secure. If you give me what I need, maybe I spare you, come back and let you out in a couple of days. Don’t get me wrong, I want to kill you. I really do. But I want to kill Graham more—you help me do that, I’ll let you live. Deal?”
There was silence in the room as Ian weighed things up. He didn’t care that he’d have to give up Graham, that wasn’t a problem to a man like Ian. But what if Kyle didn’t come out on top? He’d either die in his own garage, or Graham would gut him.
Kyle was tired of waiting. He moved the knife a little just to get Ian’s attention.
“Argh! OK, OK…I’ll tell you.”
“What’s with the rope?” Ian asked.
“I’m not taking any chances. You’re a big lad, I reckon if you wanted to get out of that garage you could.”
Kyle had found the rope in Ian’s garage. He’d hog-tied him tight. The mattress that had been Ryan’s bed until this morning now served as Ian’s. Kyle fixed masking tape around Ian’s mouth and pulled the side door to the house closed behind him.
Back in the kitchen, Kyle picked up the gun and placed the knife back in its block,—Ian’s blood still on the blade. As Kyle’s mind flashed on what he had to do next and why, he thought of Zoe. Of how their recent exchanges had all been angry. He collapsed against the kitchen worktop and sobbed. He shook himself angry and felt the adrenalin pump again. He walked with purpose back to the side door to the garage. He opened it and flipped the light switch, the fluorescent strip light crackling into life. Ian’s eyes went wide, his screams were muted by the tape
and his body spasmed as Kyle’s gun trained on him.
Kyle pulled the trigger. The shot echoed through the big empty room and then all sound and movement ceased.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Graham heard the key in the door to his room. He hit the bedside light and sat up alert in bed.
“What the fuck’s going on?” he shouted as Tom the landlord let himself into the room.
Tom walked in. Graham didn’t register the worried look on the landlord’s face, his attention was immediately pulled to the gun that had followed Tom into the room.
A mixture of confusion and surprise crossed his face. And then resignation as he realised what was happening, what was about to happen. “How did you find me?” Graham asked.
He didn’t speak, he just trained the gun on Graham.
“I’m sorry, Graham, when you said you needed to lay low for a couple of weeks, I’d assumed you meant from the Glaswegians,” Tom’s voice trembled. “I didn’t know you were hiding from your father.”
“Neither did I,” Graham replied.
Frank’s gun hand shook. It wasn’t the weight of the gun, but the weight of responsibility that troubled him. There were tears in his eyes as he spoke.
“You killed your own niece, Graham. A sweet girl, who’d done nothing but be unfortunate enough to be born into this fucking family. How could you?”
Graham had no answer and offered none. He just shrugged his shoulders as if to say, shit happens. Frank’s gun had stopped shaking as he saw the lack of humanity in that one simple gesture. He fired twice and Graham’s head exploded against the bed’s headboard.
