Chapter 37
When Finn asks Drake to come over, it suddenly feels like a stupid thing to say. What adult says they had a weird feeling and expect to be taken seriously.
“What’s up?” Drake asks, looking at me, then Finn.
“Maddox needs to talk to you, professionally.”
“What happened?” Drake immediately turns all business, not a molecule of sub on show.
“It’s dumb, but when I was at the gym this afternoon, it felt like I was being watched.
It troubled me enough to want to check the security videos.
Then, when I was leaving the car park, a man I didn’t recognise stood casually out the front doors.
He was definitely looking at me. When I checked my mirror, he was gone.
It’s rattled me, and I don’t know why. I think I should report it, not to the cops; they’d laugh me out of station. Should I call Pilkington?”
Knox joins us and tugs me to him, his hands around my middle, his thumbs hooking my belt loops. It’s obvious he doesn’t like not being included in the conversation. I promise to tell him went we get home; which by the look on his face, is now. I have ruined the perfect evening.
The journey home is a quiet one, I imagine, caused by my issue. Knox is driving with Roman next to him, holding hands and resting them on Roman’s thigh. “Have I done something wrong,” Roman asks; there’s a quiver in voice. “Because for me that was an exceptional experience, one I’ll never forget.”
“No, babe. It’s my fault; I wanted to ask Drake something.” I have, after getting permission from Drake, explained my life to Ollie. He was shocked, scared for me, but thankful for me trusting him enough to share.
“About what happened at the club this afternoon?”
Knox takes his eyes off the road for a second to look at Roman. “You need to explain what the hell went on today.”
“Hey, don’t snap at him; this is on me.” I’m not having Knox blame Roman for being there. “Can we just get home, please.”
“Yeah, home. That’s another thing, Maddox. When are you two planning to properly move in. You’re with us every night, yet you haven’t done it.” Christ, Knox is determined to ruin our night.
“Um, maybe when you ask me to. Stop being a dickhead. You’re ruining this evening. Roman looks close to tears; we put him through some serious shit, and you seem to have forgotten about that. Sort yourself out or I’ll be taking Roe to my place.”
Knox is silent except for a few deep breaths, then turns into our road, to the house. I unclip my seatbelt, and with Ollie, get out, heading for Roe’s door and open it for him. I pull him into an embrace and kiss the top of his head.
“He doesn’t mean to behave like this; he hates being out of control, of not knowing everything. He’s been like this for as long as I’ve known him.” Roe says, his words a little muffled by the leather jacket I’m wearing.
I hear Knox’s door shut and the bleep of it locking from his key fob. His footsteps come quickly towards us, and I feel his body touch my arms as he hugs Roman, with his chest pressed to Roe’s back. “I’m sorry. Let’s get inside.”
Instead of going straight up to bed the way we usually do after a night at Bound, Knox leads us into the living room, and a feeling of déjà vu washes over me. Taking me back to turning them down.
“Who wants a drink?” I ask, not exactly procrastinating.
I could use one. They both nod, and I go collect the Jack and glasses.
I’m pleased to see Roman on Knox’s knee when I go back in; it’s even better to see them kissing passionately.
“Now, that’s a sight I can watch for hours.
But we’ve got some talking to get done. Then we can kiss again for as long as we want. ”
I pour the drinks and hand them out. “It’s probably nothing, but it’s worth checking out.
I got a weird feeling I was being watched, not just glanced at or someone trying to figure out if I am that fighter.
I didn’t want to look around and planned to ask you to look at the surveillance video to see if I could see if there was anyone was acting odd or if I recognised anyone. ”
I sip at the whiskey before starting again. “Then Roe needed us, and it went by.”
“Maddox felt it again we were leaving. I said I’d look, but he didn’t want me to,” Roman adds.
“Then, I don’t know if you saw, Roe, but a man came out and was watching me drive away.”
“I don’t think I noticed anyone.”
“Did you recognise him?” Knox asks, then moves Roe so he can stand up. “I’ll get my laptop, and I can log in to the cameras.”
When he comes back in, we move to the sofa so we can all see. Knox in the middle, Ollie on my other side. It doesn’t take long to bring up. “Bloody hell, that’s great quality,” I mutter.
“With Drake, would you expect anything else?”
We skip through until we can see us approach Roman. None of us comment on how sad he looks. We know. Then I’m on my own, and I scan the rest of the room until I find the man who watched me leave. “Him.”
We watch him leave and walk outside, and Knox switches to the camera mounted on the exterior walls. It’s the same guy for sure.
“He must be new. I can check the log-in, see when he came in and swiped his card; I can find his out name then.”
I let him work silently, checking all the different screens he’s brought up.
“He’s new, only been a member a week. His name is Carter Webb.”
“That doesn’t mean anything to me. Can you zoom in so I can get a closer look.
” I look hard, trying to track any distinctive features, but he’s pretty ordinary.
I’m still sure there’s something I should recognise.
There’s a tattoo above his pec, and when I look harder, I know what it is.
“That’s a gang tattoo. He knows who I am. ”
“You need to tell Drake,” Roman says, his face as white as a sheet.
I’ve already got my phone out of my pocket and bringing up Drake’s number. He answers on the first ring. “He’s in the gang, or he was. I don’t recall him, but tattoos don’t lie.”
“Get Knox to send all the footage to me. I’ll run a facial recognition search.”
I don’t expect to get any sleep, even though it’s late, and my mind is whirring with the possibility of being on someone’s hit list. That there was a chance I can’t be saved this time. But with a jolt I’m awake, and I’ve got who it is.
Tyrone.
Now that I know the who, I want to find the why.
I grab my phone, then slip out of bed and pull on a pair of sweats that I’d left on the chair in the corner and go downstairs.
Back in the living room, I pick up the laptop, and even though I know Knox would let me use it, I’m not sure he would want me to be looking for the contact number of a man who set me up to be killed.
I’m not the na?ve kid I was back then; I’m also a damn good fighter.
I go through the history on the screen and pull up the file Knox had all the member’s details. I put the mobile number in mine and shut down the laptop.
What to do next? It’s just past three in the morning.
Why would calling him now be in any way beneficial?
If I tell him to leave and stay away, would he actually do it?
I’m back in that pokey but clinically clean flat, watching him cut the coke, the heroin with god knows what, talc, flour, chalk, I have no clue.
I’ve gone over the moment I heard him set me up so many, many times over the years I can recite his words by rote, and I still don’t understand what he got from it.
Without thinking anymore, I press call.
“It didn’t take you long to work it out,” the voice at the end of the line says. He’s been waiting for me; it didn’t even ring.
“What do you want?”
“We need to have a little chat. Just me and you.” There’s humour in his voice, and I’m not sure I can find anything funny. “I think we have a story or two to share, don’t you?”
“Fuck you. You were trying to get me killed. It nearly fucking worked. When did you get out of the nick?” I can’t remember how much time he got; it was a custodial sentence, I’m sure of it
“You see, this is why we need to talk. Where is safe and private?” Tyrone is really pushing for a meeting. I can’t get any hint from him as to why. The spark of interest has been lit, and after all these years, maybe I’ll get some truth from him
“Oh yeah, I’m sure this is all a way to get revenge for your prison time. It should be me seeking vengeance.”
“Aren’t you even the littlest intrigued? Come on, Deano; Yeah, I know what DeVon called you, but you know you want to.” He’s finding this amusing; I don’t know him, but I can imagine he’s smirking. It’s like he’s playing a cat and mouse game. “You haven’t even asked me how I found you.”
“Don’t call me that; that’s not me. Anyway, does it matter?”
“Of course, it does, it even gives you a hint about our chat.”
“Fine. Where are you?”
“Eighteen Beaufort Road, it’s off the...”
I cut him off; I know where it is. It’s in an expensive side of town, not far from Drake and Finn. I considered it myself. “I know where it is. I’m on my way.”
I drop my phone down on the sofa and flop back, using the heels of my hands to scrub at my eyes.
As if that’s going to make a difference.
Unless I can rinse my brain out, nothing is going to be clear.
This has got to be the third most stupid thing I’ve done in my life: the first was walk away from Knox, the second was meeting DeVon.
The hoodie in the hall makes it easy to finish getting dressed along with my trainers. I don’t need to go back upstairs and risk waking the other three.
The front door clicks quietly behind me.
The eerily quiet roads make the drive so much quicker.
I pass the expensive apartment building Drake lives in.
A thought jumps up in my head, one I should have realised fifteen minutes ago.
No one knows where I am. I shoot a text to Drake with the address, nothing else.
He’ll know what it means, I know I should’ve put Knox and Roman first, but I’d rather Drake dealt with any aftermath I cause.
As I drive down Beaufort Road, only one house is illuminated by an outside light above the front door. Not bothering to check any house numbers, I head straight to it. As I park, a light in the front window switches on.
Any nerves I’ve had since driving here are gone.
There’s a white-hot rage simmering under the surface, but I’m in control of it—for now.
With respect to the neighbours, I close my car door softly and take the dozen or so steps to the front door.
It opens immediately, and there he is, the man that coordinated my death.
All because of drugs and his greed for money.
“Maddox,” he says as if he’s pleased to see me. “Come in. I’ve made coffee, unless you’d like something stronger.”
“I’d like to know what the fuck is going on!
What’s with the cheery hello? We’re not fucking friends.
Say what you’ve got to say, then disappear again.
” I step inside and can smell the coffee, but there are other muted voices.
I’ve been fucking set up, and I walked straight into it.
My paranoia must have set in because I discover the voices are from an almost muted tv talk show.
“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” Tyrone, or Carter, says. I don’t know which is his real name.
“I thought you were in prison.” The hairs on the back of my neck are bristling. I’m fucked, and I didn’t say goodbye or tell them how much I love them.
“I was. Got released about six months ago. I’ve been keeping my nose clean and staying out of trouble. Then I came across a YouTube video of an MMA fight. And your face was back in front of me. A face that was dead,”
I turn to Tyrone, or Carter, whatever the fuck his name is. “I’m pretty sure this is going against your parole. Anyway, whose fault is that. You knew I was listening; you knew I’d bolt. You nearly got me killed.”
“Now, I have a score to settle. Ten years, thanks to you, have gone.”
My knees go weak. I stumble back onto the sofa, collapsing. I bury my head in my hands. I don’t know what to think. None of it makes sense.
I drag my hands down my face before lifting to look at him. “Why now, why tell me all this shit now?”
“You’re the reason I got caught, my position blown, and sent down. Knowing you died almost made it worth it. Then I see you, and I can be angry, livid with you for living this awesome life, and I’ve lost everything.”
“Hardly skint, if you can live here. But I guess you kept your drug money locked up somewhere it wouldn’t be found. How did you find me?”
“Pure chance. I moved here and wanted to join a gym. That one had the best reviews. I couldn’t believe my eyes when you turned up.
I wondered how long it would take you to work out who I was.
You were quicker than I thought, but when you kissed the owner of the gym, I wanted to know more.
Who else is in your life I could fuck with, that I could take away and cause you the pain I had when I got dumped as soon as my arse hit the prison bed. ”
“What now? You know who I am and who I’m with. What’s the plan? What are you going to do to me? I mean, do you really think you have a chance to take me down; as you saw, I’m a damn good fighter.”
“You are, but how are you against one of these?” He pulls out a bloody huge knife, like a zombie knife. I can feel the blood drain from my face. The plain blade has got to be ten inches long, but the serrated blade on the other edge is fucking scary.
I can probably take it out by kicking it from his hand, but the risk of him swinging it at the same time? It could probably take my foot off. Why didn’t I say goodbye to Knox and Roman and Ollie, why didn’t I wait for Drake? “I’m prepared to find out, are you?”
A flash of something crosses his face. Is it fear or excitement?
I guess I’m about to find out. Tyrone takes a second, then moves to the left, giving me access to the back of his knee.
He crumples a little but manages to stay up on both feet.
He slashes out again, aiming for my stomach, but as he lunges forward, his head lowers, and I punch him on the side of his head, followed by a kick.
He’s on his knees, the knife skidding a few feet away, out of his reach.
A kick on his arse has him sprawled out on his belly.
“Look like I’m good against them too. It’s a shame no one is here to see it.” I hate dirty playing in a fight, but it seems to be okay when my life depends on it. I give him another kick, but the sound of a door being kicked has me turning my back on him.
“Maddox, Maddox?” someone shouts out; it sounds like Knox, but I’m not sure.
“In here?” I shout, then scream as the white-hot slice of a blade cuts through the back of my leg. “Fuck!”
Then there’s pounding feet and shouting, and I’m being helped into the back of an ambulance.
What the fuck!