Alexis was at his shoulder. ‘What you up to?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Doesn’t look like... hey, is that you been made to look older?’
‘Yeah, cos I’m that fucking bored.’
Alexis nudged his shoulder with a fist. ‘Nobody’s forcing you to...’
‘Sorry.’ Kenny immediately regretted his irritable response. ‘It’s meant to be my father.’
Alexis sat down beside him. ‘Oh,’ she breathed. ‘You never talk about him.’
‘That’s cos he doesn’t deserve the title of father anymore.’
‘Sadly, you’re not the only one who can claim that.’
‘Tell me about yours.’
Alexis looked to the side, considered her words. ‘Distant. Busy. Excelled at making money so he spent all of his time doing it… and see how nicely you shift the focus of the conversation from you to me.’ She smiled. ‘You know about mine. Your turn.’
Kenny closed the lid of his computer and turned so that he was facing Alexis. ‘When he was here, he was the big man, your typical alpha male. Then my mum died. Apparently by her own hand and my dad disappeared. I was twelve.’
‘That’s awful.’ She stroked his face and he shrugged it off. Something about the action appeared contrived, as if she’d learned how to console someone from reading a pamphlet. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘Did I offend you?’
Did she? He hadn’t quite articulated to himself why he had reacted in such a way.
‘I just don’t like sympathy,’ he said. ‘Managed fine on my own all these years.’
Alexis shifted back in her seat, creating inches of space. ‘I understand.’ She looked wounded and Kenny re-claimed the space she offered between them.
‘God, I’m such an arse,’ he said while holding her. ‘I’ve been on my own so long I don’t know how to act when I’m with someone.’ And there you go again with the contradictions, he thought to himself.
‘Look,’ he said, standing up. ‘I’m going stir crazy. I really need to get some exercise. I could just go for a jog round the block a few times?’
Alexis stood up too. Her head reached the middle of his chest. She bit her lip as if coming to a decision. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I can’t keep a big man like you cooped up in here for too long. You go have a run. Go to the gym. I’ll manage.’
‘I’ll phone the guys to come and watch over you.’
‘Oh, please. I’m safer on my own.’
Kenny reached for his phone and thumbed out a text. I’ll tell them to stay in the car and park at the entrance to the flat.
She smiled and placed a hand on his thigh. High up on his thigh. Her thumb stretched to lightly rub at the swell of his right testicle. He felt the familiar jolt of pleasure. Blood surged to his groin.
‘I could just wait for a few minutes,’ he grinned.
She withdrew. ‘Nah. Get to the gym. But leave some energy for me later, eh?’ Her smile was almost enough to drive Kenny to take her there and then.
He drove to the gym, but once there he sat in the car park. Now that he was in position, the thought of changing, working, showering and dressing was a task requiring the dedication he didn’t possess.
What the hell was happening with his life? His aunt was near death, his cousin an addict, his girlfriend was a battered prostitute and his father remained invisible. It was too much. He could almost understand why some people sold out and vanished.
A knock at the window disrupted his thoughts. He turned about to give whoever it was a mouthful of fucks.
‘Oh, it’s you, Liam,’ he acknowledged his friend. Then motioned him into the car.
Liam opened the door and slid into the seat. ‘You alright, mate? You don’t look so good.’
‘Ah, Liam. What I wouldn’t give for a flight ticket and a villa in Spain right now.’
‘I’ve a flat in Rothesay. How does that sound?’ Liam offered. ‘Doesn’t quite have the ring of Valencia, but it’s yours if you want it.’
‘Nah, you’re okay, mate.’ Kenny offered a smile. ‘Don’t bother with me. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.’
‘Needing to offload?’
‘Fuck off, Liam. I’m Scottish and therefore way too sober to be talking about feelings for chrissake.’
‘Oh, go on. Subvert the national cliché. Tell me what’s on your mind.’
‘Here’s the short version...’ And ten minutes later Kenny was still talking. He told him everything, simply stating the facts without gilding them with emotion or judgement. There was silence in the car when he eventually stopped, disrupted only by a bleep from Liam’s phone. He apologised, looked at the screen and tapped out a very quick response.
‘Fuck me,’ said Liam. ‘You don’t have your troubles to seek.’
‘Or much of a solution.’
‘So, this prostitute... she’s the one you met with Tommy Hunt the other day?’
‘Yup.’
Liam laughed. ‘What I would have given to have been there. I heard you put him in his place.’
‘Yeah, I doubt he’s been spoken to like that since he was in his nappies.’ Kenny chuckled.
Liam punched him on the knee. ‘You’re a mad bastard, O’Neill.’ He paused. ‘Seriously. If you want my place in Rothesay for a week or so, it’s yours. We only use it for the odd weekend.’
‘Thanks, buddy. I’ll give it some thought,’ Kenny said, but his face said it wasn’t going to happen.
‘Yeah,’ said Liam slowly. ‘You won’t. Anyway, your problems will still be here when you get back.’
‘And I wouldn’t want to be too far away if Aunt Vi took a turn for the worse.’
‘You know what they say, Kenny: the best way to get past something is to go through it.’
‘Yeah, thanks for that, Mr Homespun Wisdom.’
‘Just call me homey for short.’
Kenny laughed. ‘Anyway, fuck off. I’ve a workout to get through.’
By the time Kenny had finished his session at The Hut, dusk was falling. He exited the gym door with a sense of satisfaction that had been missing the last few days. He felt alive, relaxed and ready to take on anything life vomited into his path.
The car park was a large rectangle, lit by street lamps and shared with a DIY outlet at the far end of the rectangle. There weren’t many cars nearby. Monday nights at this time of year were never popular for gym-bunnies or DIY enthusiasts. A crushed can of cola was at his feet and he kicked it across the park. The can echoed its ring around the space.
His hair was damp but he was warm in the early evening chill. He carried his bag in one hand and his jacket in the other. The streets around him were quiet. All the people who worked in the nearby offices and shops would be home eating their dinner. It was only ne’er-do-wells like himself who were out and about.
Walking to his car, he studied a couple of other cars parked next to him. Top of the range Ford and a VW Golf. Boy-racers’ cars. Wankers. The urban landscape was full of young lads driving their souped-up people-pleasers, trying to impress their pals and young girls with their wheels. Must waste a shitload of petrol, going round in circles too fast.
He laughed at himself. That sounded like something his Uncle Colin might say. He reached the can again and gave it another kick. He was looking forward to getting back to the flat and finishing off his workout on top of Alexis.
Something sounded just behind him. Another gym member going to his car, he thought. Or not. A warning signalled in a deep part of his brain. Instinct made him turn and duck. It wasn’t quite enough. A blow from a blunt weapon caught him on the side of the head. He stumbled. Don’t fall, he told himself. Fall and you’re done.
‘What the...’
His sight was blurred. He could make out the wide shoulders of a grey figure above him and brought up his arm in a defensive
move. Something flashed. Connected. He heard a loud snap. Screamed. The pain in his arm was incredible. His vision flared and sharpened to the view of his arm dangling at a strange angle before another blow to his temple and the light caved to a pinprick. And died.
41
Mason Budge was thinking that if he had a Facebook page he’d be making an entry around now that would read, ‘Mason Budge wonders if life could get any better!’ He might even add another couple of exclamation marks to that.
All of his plans for the boss were coming along nicely. He had Kenny O’Neill on the rack and he’d even managed to give his girlfriend a real good time. Now if he could manage to get the lovely Kenny into the same prone position he wouldn’t rule out giving him exactly the same treatment.
Fist and cock could be an even more potent mix when used on a man. And let’s face it, the sexual rush – and jeez, was it a rush – came from the power, not the body he was fucking.
Yes. The bold Kenny wouldn’t be quite so fucking confident if that were to happen to him. He should speak to the boss and see if he could make that part of the plan.
He picked his phone from his breast pocket and dialled a number.
‘Yes?’ was the terse, frightened answer. There was still a note of defiance though and Budge loved a little bit of defiance. Made him horny as all hell.
‘Alexis, babycakes,’ he said. ‘Walk to the window and look down onto the street.’ He waited a moment and then spotted her pale face leaning out from behind a curtain. He could see her spot him and then look up the street at a car parked at the entrance to the flat. Nice, thought Budge. That was an interesting glance. Told him exactly where he should be looking. He took a step closer to the car and made out the form of two young men in the front seats. He nodded to himself, this could get interesting. A nice little diversion could be in order. The guys looked barely out of their teens; he could take them out as easily and with as much emotion as he might trim a nail. And where’s the fun in that?
‘You can’t be here, Budge. Kenny will be back any second.’ Her voice was sharp, distant. To see her mouth move and the words come from the small machine in his hand gave him a buzz.
‘Say something else, Alexis.’
‘What are you on, you madman? Go away. Kenny can’t see you.’ She ducked behind the curtain as if the sight of him was too much.
‘Correct,’ he said. ‘Kenny can’t see me.’
‘Right.’ Alexis paused as if trying to gauge his meaning. ‘So why the hell are you standing across from his building?’
‘Aww, you know. I was passing. Thought I should say hi to my favourite girl.’
Her breath was ragged. Her fear reached him through the phone, warming his heart. ‘Please, Budge. I’ve done everything you asked. I’m doing everything you ask.’
‘So what’s fresh, what’s new?’
‘Kenny’s not in. He’s gone out to the gym. But he will be back shortly. So piss off and leave me alone.’
‘Such a potty mouth on such a beautiful young lady. I should come up there and wash your mouth out with my cock.’
‘I have a knife, you bastard. And I will use it.’
Mason loved the way her accent sounded on the word bastard. ‘Alexis, don’t be so harsh. We really could be such good friends.’
‘Apart from trying to torture me, what the hell do you want?’
‘To remind you that you are not to let O’Neill out of your sight.’ He paused to let that one drive home. ‘He’s not exactly in view at the moment, is he?’
‘I’m sorry... he... he’s not the kind of man to sit around playing nurse.’
‘Well, you need to be a little more convincing then, don’t you? Perhaps I should come up there and reapply some bruising?’
A whimper then she collected herself. ‘I told you I have a knife. And I will use it.’
‘Sure you will, babes.’ He laughed. Revelling in the moment. ‘Anywho, do you have anything interesting to report?’
‘He’s been a bit preoccupied with his sick aunt at the moment to be doing much.’
‘What about his father?’
Alexis said nothing. Crossed her arms. Silence sang in his ear.
Budge added a quiet note of promised violence to his tone. ‘What about his father?’
42
‘So, let’s go over this again, Mr O’Neill. You were walking to your car?’
‘Oh fuck off, McBain, and don’t look so fucking pleased with yourself.’
‘Well, it’s not everyday that Kenny O’Neill gets mugged. And watch your mouth.’ Ray turned and smiled at a nurse who had just pulled aside the curtain that offered a modicum of privacy to the Accident and Emergency cubicle they were resident in.
She was tall and, judging by the look on Ray McBain’s face, had a waist to hip ratio that was very pleasing. Her hair was thick auburn and she had large brown eyes that were looking at McBain as if to say, You really should leave now.
‘It’s okay, nurse. He’s kind of a friend.’
‘Didn’t you get lucky?’ she said to Kenny while striding over to the bed. Her shoes squeaked on the floor.
Ray laughed his big warm boom and said, ‘When I die, I’m coming back as a doctor.’
‘McBain, shut it. I’m in pain here, in case you haven’t noticed. Do your hunting for babes in your own time.’
‘I’m flattered,’ said the nurse, batting her eyelids in an exaggerated manner. She was on the near side of forty and clearly looked after herself. ‘It’s been a long time since someone called me a babe.’
‘What’s wrong with my friend…’ – McBain paused – ‘…babe?’
The nurse dismissed him with a snort, but her eyes were shining with a suppressed smile.
She turned to Kenny. ‘Mr O’Neill, you have concussion so we need to keep you here for a wee while for observation. You have also broken your radius and ulna.’ She turned to Ray. ‘For the medically challenged, that’s your forearm.’ Back to Kenny. ‘The good news is that it was a clean snap. No surgical intervention required. A few weeks in a plaster cast and you’ll be right as rain.’ Smile. She turned to include Ray in the conversation. ‘Just don’t be letting any daft friends graffiti the plaster.’
‘Awww, miss,’ said Ray. ‘I’ve been practising drawing big willies for just this occasion.’
‘Can’t imagine that would be from real life,’ she said.
‘Ouch.’ Ray grinned.
‘For crying out loud, guys,’ said Kenny. ‘Man in pain here. Can we flirt on our own time, please?’
‘Don’t be such a whiner, O’Neill,’ laughed Ray.
‘Someone will be along shortly to apply a cast to your arm. And by “shortly” I mean anytime within the next twenty-four hours,’ the nurse said and looked at Ray. ‘I finish at ten.’ With that, she left the cubicle as briskly as she’d entered.
‘So,’ said Ray, trying to hide a smug expression, ‘what do you remember?’
‘I remember coming out of the gym.’ Kenny paused. ‘Do you think she was joking when she said twenty-four hours? And by the way, if you don’t wait here until ten, I’m calling Pitt Street to tell everybody that you’re gay.’
‘So’s your face,’ Ray said. ‘Twenty-four hours?’ He looked around himself at the pale blue empty walls and the cream floor-length curtains. He shuddered.
‘Yeah, lucky me,’ said Kenny, reading his movement. ‘I came out the gym. I remember walking towards the car. I heard something. My spidey senses were a wee bit slow; I knew something was up but I didn’t react fast enough.’ Kenny was disgusted with himself. ‘I spun and ducked but it wasn’t enough. The bastard caught me on the side of the head. I tried to protect myself…’ He looked down at his arm. He mentally replayed his actions. ‘My arm was... and then he caught me on the head again. After that, I have no idea.’
‘You
r wallet is still in your pocket,’ said Ray. ‘I checked. It has some money and a few credit and bank cards. And your phone is still in your jacket, so if someone was trying to mug you, they must have been disturbed before they could complete the theft.’
‘How much money?’
‘Sixty quid. In tens.’
Kenny nodded. That was just as he remembered. ‘Are there any closed circuit cameras around there?’ asked Kenny.
‘Nope.’
‘How did you get to hear about it?’ By ‘you’ he meant the police.
‘A passing good Samaritan. He didn’t hang around to see if there was any reward.’
‘You hear the phone call?’
Ray shook a no. ‘Apparently it was a male voice. Said there was a man lying unconscious in the car park and we should get an ambulance down there asap.’
‘Nothing remarkable about the caller?’ Kenny asked.
‘Jeez,’ said Ray. ‘Who’s the polis here?’ Pause. ‘Afraid not. Typical west of Scotland accent. Male.’
Kenny slumped back onto his pillow, his face scrunched in pain.
‘Want me to get the nurse back for you?’ asked Ray.
‘For you, or for me?’
‘Don’t be crass,’ said Ray. ‘I wouldn’t let my libido get in the way of your health.’ He creased his face in sympathy. ‘You do look like you could take some pain relief, mate.’
Kenny breathed deeply, forced himself to relax and rode the next wave of pain. Whatever they had given him when he first arrived was wearing off and he needed more, but he wanted to keep his thoughts free and run through events leading up to his attack. A fresh set of drugs and he would remember nothing.
He went through the whole course of events again. Leaving the gym door. Walking towards the car. Kicking the can. The sound of someone approaching.
There were three strikes with a blunt weapon. Two to the head. One to the arm.
He thought some more about the gym. The place was well known locally. Well known as a place where some of the toughest bouncers in Glasgow trained. Either it was someone who didn’t know the area and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, or it was...
Beyond the Rage Page 23
