Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
I’m both jealous of Jake for getting away and a little shocked that he would leave me.
I consider running down to the lower decks to hide with the crew, but the door is presumably still broken.
The thought of being alone is unbearable, so I just lie here: half-comatose, curled up like an armadillo, awaiting violence.
“Three girls in a flat, and you managed to have your way with all of them.” I’m so tired of Tom’s smug voice, even if he does occasionally speak the truth. “You must be very proud of yourself. Did you make out with Bridget to have the full set?”
Why he thinks he has any chance of hurting Ade, I can’t imagine. The two remain a few feet apart, moving side to side like boxers. Even through the thin sweater he’s wearing, I can see just how muscular Ade is. I can see how much damage he can inflict if he really wants to.
“You don’t know anything, Tom. You’ve gone through your life being patted on your head and told how well you’re doing. You’ve failed upwards and been bailed out whenever you made a mess of things.”
“Which shows how little you know about me.” These are petty claims considering what has happened over the last twenty-four hours, but they’re both trying to delay the inevitable.
I don’t know why I keep watching. I could at least close my eyes, but that’s not my role here.
I’m a witness. Tom hunches his shoulders and raises his fists in case Ade starts things in earnest. He’s pretending that he knows how to handle himself, but it’s clear that he’s more scared than I am, and I’m the little girl who’s been caught in the storm.
“You stole the one thing that meant anything to me.” Tom takes a half-step closer as Ade moves around him. He throws a soft punch, but it gets nowhere near its intended target, and the dance continues.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Ade tells him. “You’ve had your supply cut off, and it’s left you in this state. Can you even say for certain that you weren’t the one who killed her?”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Tom swears. “No matter what state I was in, I would never hurt Sasha.”
Instead of using this as a distraction to come forward, Ade steps away from him. There’s something about his expression that tells me he’s beyond the point of caring what he says now. Whatever he’s been holding in all day is about to come out, and the intensity in his eyes is frightening.
“You saw us together, didn’t you?”
Tom doesn’t reply. He’s stopped bobbing and weaving or whatever he was attempting to do and can only stare back blankly at Ade.
“When Sasha stayed behind after dinner last night and confessed that she wanted to leave you – you were there.”
Tom turns his head at an angle as if he wants to unhear what Ade just said.
“You saw us together! Your wife offered herself to me, and it broke you apart.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tom snaps, but this must be a lie or he would have answered the first time.
“Yes, you do. You were there when she tried to kiss me and I said no. That’s why you’ve been so angry all day, and why you pushed her into the sea. You killed the others to hide the fact that this whole thing was about her.”
“She didn’t love me anymore.” Tom spits on the floor to show his disdain and, for a moment, Ade can’t believe he’s finally got to the truth.
“I’ve been trying to keep it a secret all this time so that you wouldn’t stab me to death, but you already knew.”
Tom doesn’t answer this time, but he comes forward to take another swing and almost makes contact.
Maybe he’s more up for this than he looks.
I’ve heard of white-collar boxers – stockbrokers and City traders who spend their Friday nights pounding one another in boxing rings for fun.
Maybe Tom is one of them and he’s just getting his eye in.
Ade smiles at him, his unnaturally white teeth flashing in the dim light. “Is that why you locked up my crew in the mess? So that there wouldn’t be any witnesses?”
“That’s enough!”
“You’re a killer. You don’t even know what you’ve done.”
I see the blood go to Tom’s head as Ade pushes his buttons. He lunges forward, determined to cause pain, and to everyone’s surprise, his swinging right hook connects with Ade’s jaw. It stuns him, but he doesn’t fall down, and so Tom immediately moves to the body and lands blow after blow.
It looks effective, but it’s soon clear that he’s made a mistake.
This is not a boxing match that will play out over twelve rounds.
The aim is not to wear down his opponent but knock him out.
Even as Tom pummels him, there’s a monstrous glint in Ade’s eyes.
I’ve seen that look once before, right after our first kiss.
It’s a flash of primal lust that hints at something darker.
Ade’s left fist swings around in a perfect quarter circle and, as it meets Tom’s cheek, there’s a resounding click. The defeated fighter falls sideways, straight to the floor.
Tom’s facing away from me, and I can’t tell how badly hurt he is, but I can see that he isn’t moving. He lies right where he is, so Ade edges closer to see if he’s okay.
“Tom?”
My heart is racing, and I can only imagine how Ade feels. I watch as the fear comes over him and he considers the possibility that he’s killed a man with one punch.
“Mate, are you all right? I never meant to—”
Just as he reaches the laid-out flop, Tom surges to his feet and catches Ade with an uppercut to the chin.
“You cheat,” Ade complains, and I once again marvel that this should be the thing that bothers him. “You’ll regret that.”
He stumbles backwards against the bar, which gives him the space he needs to recover.
He must have hit the remote control there, as a wailing sound suddenly fires up, and the TV wall illuminates.
Punishing rock music blares across the room.
It’s all crunching guitars and endless drum fills and, on the screen, quick cuts show an intense, athletic band plying their trade.
Tom hasn’t learnt his lesson. He should have made more of his advantage.
There’s only one way that this fight will go now, and I imagine that even he can see that.
There’s such sadness on his face as Ade steps forward and, with one ripped, rangy arm, moves to bludgeon him.
Tom’s neck snaps back and liquid flies from his mouth, but I can’t say whether it’s blood or saliva.
Instead of continuing the mauling that Ade obviously has it in him to provide, he grabs his opponent by the neck.
The look of surprise on Tom’s face is painful to witness.
He’s clearly frightened of what comes next, but there’s something more in his panicked gaze.
I imagine every regret he’s had in his life coming back to him – every poor decision, from the one that got him into this unwinnable fight back through his career, his marriage and his upbringing.
I have no way of proving it, but I feel quite certain that he’s remembering all his disappointments and embarrassments, and the sorry way everything will now end.
“No, Ade…” Tom tries, but even these words are hard to decipher, and he gives up entirely.
“Don’t do it. Don’t hurt him,” I finally shout, my voice high and shrill, but Ade won’t listen. His lust has returned.
He shows his hyena-like teeth as he squeezes the life out of poor, stupid Tom.
He pushes his prey up against the TV wall, and one of the panels cracks.
A few million pixels die, but the band plays on.
There’s no doubt in my mind that this is what Ade wants.
He’s savouring the chance to watch a man die.
I consider trying to stop him, but it’s too late for that.
The stifled sound of Tom’s pain is too much and, as I force myself off the sofa, it feels as if I haven’t used my legs in a year.
They are unsteady beneath me, but I persist. Tom’s gurgling cries are drowned out by another furious crescendo of cymbals and drums, and I launch myself from the room before Ade can turn his attention to me.