Page 15 of Rogue

“Now, what did I tell you about that mouth of yours?” Noticing the knife’s case strapped to the back of his belt, I quickly unhooked it, sheathed the steel, then pocketed it. A man always had need of a good knife.

“Fuck you, shithead,” he cursed again, spitting out a mouthful of blood and spittle in his rage. His eyes burned with fury as he tried twisting round to look at me. “You best enjoy this moment, because when we get through with you, you’ll be begging for death. We’ll kill your friends, your family, everyone you ever loved. Enjoy this moment, bitch, because we’re about to bring your world burning down around you.”

Too late, someone else already did.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” I barked angrily, tired of the sound of his voice. It sorely tempted me to knock him out when a small gasp reached my ears from the other side of the dining room. My eyes darted up to see Debra, Max, and the girl clustered behind the bar. But it was the girl who caught my eyes, the look of horror on her face.

It gave me a better idea.

Lifting my foot from the small of Roy’s back, I grabbed his wrists and heaved him up to his feet. He struggled and twisted as if to break free, but the effort lacked strength and was probably more for himself than anything. Either way, it didn’t impede me from dragging him over to the bar. “Now be a good boy and apologise to the ladies?”

The three onlookers just stared at me in absolute horror, like I was a raving lunatic, but I didn’t care. This bastard couldn’t do anything to me. No one in the Whale knew me. No one knew my name or where I lived. I always paid in cash, came on odd days and didn’t even use the Wi-Fi. His threat was all talk, but it brought back the memories, memories that got me worked, memories of fire and blood, of his mother’s screams, of watching his dad’s getting blown away, of the New York City back streets, of watching men he’d known for years turning on him. And all at the hands of the Russian Mafia.

This bastard may not have had any hand in that, but he was part of the organisation. and thought that meant he could scare me. He and his troop of baboons thought they were hard men, but they were just bullies that got off on tormenting people smaller and weaker than them. And I’d show him for the cowards they were, even if it was only for my sick amusement and warped sense of right and wrong.

I might have been a bastard, but I had standards, and I didn’t like men that hit girls.

He twisted his head around and sneered.

“Fuck you bitc-ahh!” he gasped, throwing his head back in pain as I swung my elbow up into the part of his back over his right kidney. His body bucked underneath me as the spasm and pain-wracked him and I had to resist the urge to smile grimly as even before I asked again, he was jabbering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

I let him go, and he dropped to the floor and writhed like a worm in bleach. It was a disappointing end. I’d been hoping he could take the pain a little longer, but it was too late now. His kidneys would've given him hell for a while, so if anyone asked, I could always say the kick I then gave his face was mercy.

Actually, I just didn’t want to hear his blubbering.

Then I turned my gaze back to the three behind the bar, my attention focusing on the girl, still wearing that same frightened look. I did my best to smile comfortingly. “You alright love?”

She reeled back at the question like a viper had suddenly reared up before her. She just stared at me with that same look of undisguised terror. “Don’t… please… just, just go.”

Then she turned and ran around the bar and bolted past me in a flight back through the game room to the back rooms. And as she vanished from sight, the fry cook pushed through the swinging game room doors to survey the carnage, a big man in a white apron, holding one of the biggest knives I’d ever seen, and I decided that going probably wasn’t a bad idea.

“Sorry about the mess,” I said while fishing a few fifty-dollar bills out of my wallet and putting them on the bar, before I turned and walked back outside.

The cloud canopy was gone, turning it into a beautiful autumn afternoon. Typical.

I was just about to climb back into the 911, but I couldn’t resist a final look back at the Beached Whale and thought of the girl with dark hair and a cute bum, and wondered what might have been, if only she’d been on time.

Guess I’ll never know her name now…

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