Beyond the Rage (21 page)

40

Kenny showered, dressed and made them both a breakfast of bacon, sausage and eggs. Alexis made a face when he put the plate in front of her.

‘Coffee will do, please Kenny.’

‘Nope. Your body needs fuel. Eat up.’

Whatever her complaint was, she finished the plateful before Kenny. Noticing this, he said, ‘I thought you didn’t want any.’

‘Who am I to argue? Besides, you do have a point.’ She worked a smile into her swollen face.

Kenny winced on her behalf. ‘Still sore?’

‘I’ll survive.’

Something in her tone suggested she
’d
been through worse. Kenny nodded as if to say he wasn’t surprised. Sipping at his coffee, he stared into her eyes. Was she any different since he stated his undying love? He felt a cringe sour his mouth and curl his toes. Fucking idiot.

‘What?’ she challenged.

‘There’s so much about you I don’t know.’

‘Believe me, it’s best it stays that way.’

‘Who for? You or me?’

She inclined her head and offered a smile. This was a look that worked well when her face was of normal dimensions. It didn’t have quite the same impact when she was so bruised and swollen. Nor was he feeling quite so enamoured of her. Was this because he said the L-word? His natural state was to be on his own, so his head was taking corrective action.

‘You should get some ice on that,’ Kenny said, more for a way to cover his confusion than out of any concern. His feelings were all over the place. One minute he wanted to take her away and live on a Highland croft, the next... well, what did he want?

‘Will I ever get to know the real Alexis?’

‘Be careful what you wish for, Kenny.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Kenny was surprised at the strength of his irritation.

Alexis rubbed her eyes. ‘Not now, Kenny. I’m tired.’

‘Right enough.’ Kenny stood up and walked out of the room. He came back in with his gym bag. ‘I need some head space.’ Alexis was on her feet and in front of him with surprising haste.

‘You can’t leave me here on my own,’ she said with large eyes and one hand on his chest.

‘S’okay. No one can hurt you here.’

‘You sure about that?’ Her eyes were huge, her hand trembling on his chest like a trapped bird.

‘Hey, babes,’ – he brought her head into his chest – ‘nobody, but nobody, can hurt you here.’ He held her head in both hands and gently lifted it into view. He kissed her, feeling only tenderness. He would kill to protect this woman.

‘Don’t leave me, Kenny. I’m begging you.’

Kenny chewed on that for a moment.

‘I need...’

‘Please?’

Guilt scored a line across his gut.

‘I’ll get the guys to sit outside the door?’

‘What, Trill and Coma-boy?’ she snorted. ‘Useful as a chocolate teapot, those boys. One’s hyperactive and the other one has all the personality of a lettuce.’ She made a face. ‘I need you, Kenny. I only feel safe with you.’

‘Okay. Okay,’ he said as she buried her head into his chest again.

A muffled, ‘Thank you.’

• • •

A few days later, they were on the sofa. Alexis had her head on his lap and was sleeping. From there he could see that the swelling had reduced a good deal and the bruises were shifting colours. She didn’t look quite so freaky as she did when she first turned up on his doorstep.

Kenny had been online and ordered a delivery of groceries, he
’d
also visited every website he knew and he was now about to crawl up the wall with boredom and forced inactivity. He couldn’t take much more of this. He needed to do something. He needed some exercise. He needed to find the fucker who hurt Alexis.

He phoned his cousin.

‘Ian. How’s your mum?’

‘Awright, mate. Getting there.’

‘I can just see that on her medical report. That’ll help the docs get her back on her feet.’

‘Sarcasm is the lowest, mate.’

‘It’s either that or I pull you through the phone lines and bitch-slap you until you give me some real information.’

‘In periods of tension I always recommend some exercise. Or a wee session of self-love, Kenny. You clearly are in need of one. Or both.’

‘Meanwhile, I know nothing about Aunt Vi.’

‘She’s... they’re not quite sure yet. She’s stabilised a little, but she’s not totally out of danger. On several monitors and drips. The doctors just need time.’

‘Thank you. Was that so hard?’

‘Oh, and my old man never wants to see you again.’ There was a smile in Ian’s voice as he spoke this often-used phrase.

‘Thanks, buddy,’ Kenny said. His voice softened. ‘You needing anything?’

‘Apart from a healthy mum and some fresh weed? Nah, I’m good, mate.’

Next on his call list was Dimitri. The older man answered his phone after three rings.

‘Investigations R US, how can I serve you today?’

‘What’s happening, Dimitri? Found anything?
Done
anything?’

‘Morning, Kenny. I’m just about to send you an email. It’s a mock-up of what your father might look like now.’

Kenny’s laptop pinged. He opened the email and the attachment. A picture bloomed onto the screen.

‘Looks a bit...’

‘Like you,’ Dimitri finished.

‘Plastic, I was about to say. But yes, he is my old man.’ It was in the broad forehead, the cant of the eyes, the line of the nose. No one could doubt he and Kenny were related. Would this be how his father had aged? Early-fifties wasn’t old nowadays, he could still be fit and strong. Hair rusted grey, skin weathered into fine lines.

Might he have changed over the years? Would he still be the man the boy knew? Loud, charismatic and wearing a fuck-you confidence like a suit of armour.

‘Looks good, Dimitri. Forget the milk cartons. I have another idea. Get a hold of the local newspapers in tourist country. Run an advert. Offer a reward for information.’

‘We need to give them an interesting reason in the blurb.’

‘How about a Canadian relative died without issue and after making lots of money? Make sure you say there’s a house on the edge of a lake.’

‘Why?’

‘The romance of it.’

‘Why, will your old man fall for it?’

‘My old man will completely ignore it. I’m targeting his neighbours. They’ll think they’re doing him a favour,’ Kenny paused while the idea took hold. ‘And we’ll offer a reward for information that leads to a meeting with him. £5,000. Not too much or we attract the wrong sort of attention, but enough to prod someone from being vaguely curious into activity.’

‘Oh man, you’re worth the watching.’

‘And get a pay-as-you-go phone from the supermarket and use that as a contact number for the advert.’

‘Kenny?’

‘What?’

Dimitri giggled. ‘I am so loving working with you.’

Kenny cut the connection and continued to stare at the photo as if it could provide all the answers.

Alexis was at his shoulder. ‘What you up to?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Doesn’t look like... hey, is that you been made to look older?’

‘Yeah, cos I’m that fucking bored.’

Alexis nudged his shoulder with a fist. ‘Nobody’s forcing you to...’

‘Sorry.’ Kenny immediately regretted his irritable response. ‘It’s meant to be my father.’

Alexis sat down beside him. ‘Oh,’ she breathed. ‘You never talk about him.’

‘That’s cos he doesn’t deserve the title of father anymore.’

‘Sadly, you’re not the only one who can claim that.’

‘Tell me about yours.’

Alexis looked to the side, considered her words. ‘Distant. Busy. Excelled at making money so he spent all of his time doing it… and see how nicely you shift the focus of the conversation from you to me.’ She smiled. ‘You know about mine. Your turn.’

Kenny closed the lid of his computer and turned so that he was facing Alexis. ‘When he was here, he was the big man, your typical alpha male. Then my mum died. Apparently by her own hand and my dad disappeared. I was twelve.’

‘That’s awful.’ She stroked his face and he shrugged it off. Something about the action appeared contrived, as if she
’d
learned how to console someone from reading a pamphlet. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘Did I offend you?’

Did she? He hadn’t quite articulated to himself why he had reacted in such a way.

‘I just don’t like sympathy,’ he said. ‘Managed fine on my own all these years.’

Alexis shifted back in her seat, creating inches of space. ‘I understand.’ She looked wounded and Kenny re-claimed the space she offered between them.

‘God, I’m such an arse,’ he said while holding her. ‘I’ve been on my own so long I don’t know how to act when I’m with someone.’ And there you go again with the contradictions, he thought to himself.

‘Look,’ he said, standing up. ‘I’m going stir crazy. I really need to get some exercise. I could just go for a jog round the block a few times?’

Alexis stood up too. Her head reached the middle of his chest. She bit her lip as if coming to a decision. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I can’t keep a big man like you cooped up in here for too long. You go have a run. Go to the gym. I’ll manage.’

‘I’ll phone the guys to come and watch over you.’

‘Oh, please. I’m safer on my own.’

Kenny reached for his phone and thumbed out a text.
I’ll tell them to stay in the car and park at the entrance to the flat.

She smiled and placed a hand on his thigh. High up on his thigh. Her thumb stretched to lightly rub at the swell of his right testicle. He felt the familiar jolt of pleasure. Blood surged to his groin.

‘I could just wait for a few minutes,’ he grinned.

She withdrew. ‘Nah. Get to the gym. But leave some energy for me later, eh?’ Her smile was almost enough to drive Kenny to take her there and then.

He drove to the gym, but once there he sat in the car park. Now that he was in position, the thought of changing, working, showering and dressing was a task requiring the dedication he didn’t possess.

What the hell was happening with his life? His aunt was near death, his cousin an addict, his girlfriend was a battered prostitute and his father remained invisible. It was too much. He could almost understand why some people sold out and vanished.

A knock at the window disrupted his thoughts. He turned about to give whoever it was a mouthful of fucks.

‘Oh, it’s you, Liam,’ he acknowledged his friend. Then motioned him into the car.

Liam opened the door and slid into the seat. ‘You alright, mate? You don’t look so good.’

‘Ah, Liam. What I wouldn’t give for a flight ticket and a villa in Spain right now.’

‘I’ve a flat in Rothesay. How does that sound?’ Liam offered. ‘Doesn’t quite have the ring of Valencia, but it’s yours if you want it.’

‘Nah, you’re okay, mate.’ Kenny offered a smile. ‘Don’t bother with me. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.’

‘Needing to offload?’

‘Fuck off, Liam. I’m Scottish and therefore way too sober to be talking about feelings for chrissake.’

‘Oh, go on. Subvert the national cliché. Tell me what’s on your mind.’

‘Here’s the short version...’ And ten minutes later Kenny was still talking. He told him everything, simply stating the facts without gilding them with emotion or judgement. There was silence in the car when he eventually stopped, disrupted only by a bleep from Liam’s phone. He apologised, looked at the screen and tapped out a very quick response.

‘Fuck me,’ said Liam. ‘You don’t have your troubles to seek.’

‘Or much of a solution.’

‘So, this prostitute... she’s the one you met with Tommy Hunt the other day?’

‘Yup.’

Liam laughed. ‘What I would have given to have been there. I heard you put him in his place.’

‘Yeah, I doubt he’s been spoken to like that since he was in his nappies.’ Kenny chuckled.

Liam punched him on the knee. ‘You’re a mad bastard, O’Neill.’ He paused. ‘Seriously. If you want my place in Rothesay for a week or so, it’s yours. We only use it for the odd weekend.’

‘Thanks, buddy. I’ll give it some thought,’ Kenny said, but his face said it wasn’t going to happen.

‘Yeah,’ said Liam slowly. ‘You won’t. Anyway, your problems will still be here when you get back.’

‘And I wouldn’t want to be too far away if Aunt Vi took a turn for the worse.’

‘You know what they say, Kenny: the best way to get past something is to go through it.’

‘Yeah, thanks for that, Mr Homespun Wisdom.’

‘Just call me homey for short.’

Kenny laughed. ‘Anyway, fuck off. I’ve a workout to get through.’

By the time Kenny had finished his session at The Hut, dusk was falling. He exited the gym door with a sense of satisfaction that had been missing the last few days. He felt alive, relaxed and ready to take on anything life vomited into his path.

The car park was a large rectangle, lit by street lamps and shared with a DIY outlet at the far end of the rectangle. There weren’t many cars nearby. Monday nights at this time of year were never popular for gym-bunnies or DIY enthusiasts. A crushed can of cola was at his feet and he kicked it across the park. The can echoed its ring around the space.

His hair was damp but he was warm in the early evening chill. He carried his bag in one hand and his jacket in the other. The streets around him were quiet. All the people who worked in the nearby offices and shops would be home eating their dinner. It was only ne’er-do-wells like himself who were out and about.

Walking to his car, he studied a couple of other cars parked next to him. Top of the range Ford and a VW Golf. Boy-racers’ cars. Wankers. The urban landscape was full of young lads driving their souped-up people-pleasers, trying to impress their pals and young girls with their wheels. Must waste a shitload of petrol, going round in circles too fast.

He laughed at himself. That sounded like something his Uncle Colin might say. He reached the can again and gave it another kick. He was looking forward to getting back to the flat and finishing off his workout on top of Alexis.

Something sounded just behind him. Another gym member going to his car, he thought. Or not. A warning signalled in a deep part of his brain. Instinct made him turn and duck. It wasn’t quite enough. A blow from a blunt weapon caught him on the side of the head. He stumbled. Don’t fall, he told himself. Fall and you’re done.