Page 1 of Reckless

Chapter One

Michael O’Reagan

“Hand over the bag you little shit.”

The rough material embeds itself into my hand as I clench my fist around the sack. It wasn’t just a sack; it was full of Malone’s money. He trusted me every night to pick it up from behind Duff’s gate and deliver it to Chambers pub. To go to him without the sack, would simply mean … death. Handing it over wasn’t an option.

The moon glints off the sharp edges of the man’s face who moves closer to me. The tweed jacket he’s wearing is two sizes too big.

“You know whose money this is?” I ask pushing down my fear. But it seems to have lodged itself in my throat. I was scrawny for a fourteen-year-old, but I was loyal and mostly I went unnoticed. But not tonight. The other man steps out of the shadows, the moon reflects off a knife in his hand. A toothy grin on his face has me gripping the bag tighter.

“We know who owns it kid.” The guy with the knife says. He’s dressed in rags. A coal man’s black jacket and the markings on his face, showing his desperation as it sinks into his bony fingers that he tightens on the knife.

“He’ll kill us all.” I admit the truth. It’s always better to stay as close to the truth as possible. Lies had a way of making everything worse.

A bark of a smokers laugh comes from the unarmed man who has slipped even closer to me. “He will only kill you kid. He won’t know we took it.”

The knife catches the moon as the other man strikes but I jump to the left and into the solid wall landing onto the ground.

“He’s only a skinny kid.” The armed man lowers his knife and waves it at the ground, the smirk he wears slowly slides off his face as he nods to his friend who moves towards me. His large hand grips the sack, and he pulls like I’ll just release it.

“Let it go kid.” He shakes it like I might fall off the end but I hold on to it for dear life, because it is the weight of my life.

“Hurry Gerard.” His friend is losing patience. He shakes me again but I close my eyes as I grip the bag even tighter.

Pain explodes in the side of my head sending a swell of darkness through me. Sound is muffled as I open my eyes and try to focus as bare knuckles fill my vision. I close my eyes as his fist impact’s with my jaw, my teeth rattle in my head and copper fills my mouth. Opening my eyes quickly this time I see the other man approach.

“You little bollocks let the bag go.” The knife is out and this time he means business. I pull the sack deeper into my aching stomach. My face feels like it’s caved in on itself.

I’m looking at a large puddle behind the men’s feet, it’s still form ripples. Black shoes that I know if it was the day time I would see my reflection in. The camel coat flicks out close to the ankles. My attackers stand and turn as I pull the sack closer to me.

“You okay boy?” I want to be like Mr. Malone when I grow up. The two men shake as three of Malone’s men fan out behind him. I’m smiling allowing some blood to pour between my teeth.

“I’m fine, Mr. Malone.” I manage to say and he grins at me making me smile until my jaw aches.

“You are trying to rob from me?” His voice is filled with violence his grin sheds as he stares at my attackers.

“No sir.” The one in the tweed lies. He should have told the truth maybe he could have saved himself. Mr. Malone removes a pistol from his coat, his fingers gloved in black leather.

“Have you ever killed anyone boy?” It takes me a moment to understand that Mr. Malone is talking to me. I use the rough stone behind me to stand while still clutching the sack.

“No, No, Mr. Malone.” He nods and for a moment I think he is going to hand me the power. The gun fires. The sound louder than I anticipated. The sack hits the ground hard, along with the man in the tweed jacket. Smoke still rises from the hole in his chest.

“Mr Malone. I’m sorry…” The useless words tumble from the other man’s mouth as the gun fires again. I’m a bit more prepared this time as I stare at the two dead bodies while retrieving the sack. I can’t take my eyes off the blood that trails onto the ground and flows through the cracks of the street. The moon light almost making it look silver. ButI can smell the blood.

“Go home boy.” Mr Malone’s words release me from the hold the blood had taken over me. I’m nodding getting ready to leave. The sack is still clutched in my hand.

“Your money, Mr. Malone.” I reach out the sack to him and he tilts his head slightly before stepping closer to me.

“You’ve never looked in the sack?” He asks as he replaces the pistol in its holder. Once his camel coat is covering his black suit again, he looks at me. Silver eyes that squeeze my heart hold my stare.

“No, Mr. Malone.”

“Open it.” He flicks his chin out towards the bag and fear skitters down my spine. His men watch with amusement and something tells me not to open the bag, that opening it will change everything.

I reach my hand in and touch paper. Pulling it out my eyes grow wide and I don’t understand.

“It’s newspaper,” I say as my face reddens.

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