Chapter 4 #2
His upper lip curls into a snarl. “Don’t test me, kid.”
I despise the guy, but I can’t let him lose everything for this one job.
“You could lose the whole garage.”
He pulls harder at the wrench, his anger rising. “I’m not asking again—”
“Just listen to me! The guy will be here any minute.”
I duck as he throws his right hand over my head. The glass bottle, intended to smash into my temple, slams into the shop wall. It crashes on impact, the beer seeping down the wall and glass littering the floor.
Taken aback, I freeze.
The cunt could’ve fucking killed me.
In my moment of distraction, Jim fists the front of my shirt, bringing me closer. I tower over him, but with the sheer weight of this man, I know a blow of any magnitude may hurt. But that’s not what scares me. The real fear is the way my fists shake with the desire to hurt him. Really hurt him.
I ache to inflict pain on him.
“Get off me,” I warn, for both of our sakes.
But it’s too late – the tether has snapped.
He reaches for the wrench again, and everything happens in a blur. I pull it harder, with force, the intention to shove him away mixing with my wicked desire to cause damage. Right from wrong blurs, and before I know it, I’m slamming my fist with the weapon down on top of his head.
His eyes stop first, his vision frozen in a moment of disbelief as he shakily brings his hands to the droplets of blood running down his temple. Jim’s mouth starts to morph into that sly grin he loves to wear. Before I can even bring myself to see it, I slam the wrench down again.
That’s all it takes – one final push.
His body tumbles forwards, onto his knees first, and then onto his front as he slams down on the concrete. My chest heaves with exhaustion and adrenaline, my heart racing a mile a minute. The wrench slips from my hand from the mess of blood, clattering against the floor.
A dark cloud washes over me as I watch the blood seeping across the concrete. The crimson staining my palms. He’s dead. And I … I killed him. But I don’t feel anything.
I don’t feel anything.
I don’t feel.
I don’t—
Taking in the crime scene, I pause.
What the fuck have I done?
I’ve killed someone. I’ve fucking killed someone. I—
Frantically, I wipe my hands against my thighs. Again. And again. Until my palms start to burn from the friction.
Blood rushes towards my feet, and I nearly stumble over myself with my quick retreat. My hip meets the side of a car, and I grab onto the bonnet to help stabilise myself, leaving a dirty handprint.
On unstable legs, I manage to make my way to the bathroom to wash away the evidence. Blood runs down the drain, but I keep my hands under the running water until every tiny pinprick of evidence is gone. I’m not sure how much time has passed as I finally walk out the door.
It’s fine. It was an accident. A simple misunderstanding. He slipped—
Fuck yes. I’ll call the police in a panic and say I found him like this. I’ll say, “He must have slipped and banged his head.”
I step around the car to where Jim lies.
This is good.
This is—
Bad. Really fucking bad.
Jim’s body is gone.
Not only is his body gone, but there’s not a speck of blood on the floor. Blood that I know was there, forming a circle round his head.
Am I going insane?
It was right there.
I look down, confirming there’s still blood staining my jeans. In the rare case he survived the blow and the excessive blood loss, he wouldn’t have cleaned up the mess before making a run for it. What kind of sick freak would do that?
Maybe I am going insane.
I run my palms over my face aggressively, scrubbing my eyes to try to wake myself up from whatever nightmare this is. But as I pull my hands free, I feel the colour quickly seeping from me at the sight of Richard standing next to his vehicle.
Fuck!
I grab my hoodie from where it’s hanging over the back of the sofa and tie it around my waist, concealing whatever blood is on my clothes. I double-check I’ve rid myself of all the evidence and take a heavy, needed breath before making my way over.
Richard turns towards me, oblivious to the disaster that just occurred. “How’d it go? I hope it wasn’t too difficult.”
“Nothing to be concerned about.” I take his keys from the hook and fist them in my palm. “You’ve got a good ride on your hands.”
Counting the cash in his wallet, he asks, “How much do I owe you?”
Though the cash would give me and Greg some extra security for the week, I can’t bring myself to charge this man now he’s unknowingly walked into a crime scene.
I shake my head. “It’s on the house. Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Richard nods casually, slipping the wallet into the inside pocket of his suit. “At least I won’t need to charge you for the clean-up of the body I found in here.”
I freeze.
“I-I … I don’t know what—”
“I think the correct words are ‘thank you’.”
A lump forms in my throat quickly. I’m prepared to act on the defence again until movement over Richard’s shoulder makes me pause.
My eyes focus on two burly men, each of whom is hurling something into a truck.
It’s wrapped up tight with material and duct tape, dark red liquid visibly seeping out.
They chuck it in the van and slam the doors.
Cleaning equipment litters the pavement outside their vehicle, and I squint further to double-check what I’m seeing. They cleaned up the body. Richard’s men.
Christ.
“Harry?” Richard presses. “Everything okay?”
I whip my head towards him and rush out, “Thank you.”
As casual and mundane as the moment he walked into the garage, Richard repositions his suit as if we’re merely talking business. “The adrenaline will wear off the next time.”
The next time? The next time? Is he fucking joking?
He steps towards me, offering out a business card. I hesitate, but he nods insistently, encouraging me to take it.
“What’s this for?”
Richard’s posture is casual, as though this is the start of something far bigger. “If you ever find yourself in trouble again, just give me a call.”
He’s about to turn on his heel when I instinctively take a step forwards. “Don’t I owe you anything for … you know?”
“You fixed the car, didn’t you?” He smiles wickedly, and at my bewildered expression he chuckles. “I’m certain I’ll be seeing you again soon, Harry.”