Beyond the Rage (9 page)

17

Kenny loved the sensation of having an endless source of energy in his thighs. That’s what keeping fit did for him. A night of no-conscience shagging, followed by a deep sleep, followed by a run: life just didn’t get any better. He gave a wee skip when he reached the red telephone box at the village hall – laughed at himself – and considered going on till the A84. He could feel the power in his legs, the evenness of his breathing and the hormones feeding his system. Felt like he could go on forever.

Then he thought about Alexis lying in the hotel bed, the softness of her skin and her words hot in his ear last night urging him on to bigger effort. He felt a stirring. Stopped and turned. He could go for a run any morning.

Back at the hotel, a wink to Davie behind the reception desk and he was up the stairs to his room three at a time. He opened the door and slid in. The curtains were still shut but enough light came in the door behind him to see that an Alexis-shaped bump still warmed the sheets.

He considered jumping in beside her. Right, and a smelly, sweaty body was going to receive a welcome. He shucked off his clothes and walked over to the bathroom. The shower was hot and brisk. His groin tingling with anticipation as he soaped himself clean of his efforts.

A quick rub-down with a towel and he was ready.

He lifted up the quilt and slid in behind Alexis. She made a happy little mewling sound as he put an arm round her.

A moan as he slid deep inside her.

‘O’Neill,’ she said with a husky voice, ‘you’re an animal.’

Kenny felt his breath shorten as he moved in and out. The feeling was delicious. He savoured her heat and wetness as he slowed down his movements. He groaned. She was so wet. She was always quick to respond to him, but not this quick.

‘Mmm, yes, Kenny. This is so nice.’

Kenny closed his eyes and stopped moving. He didn’t want to come just yet.

Alexis had a chuckle in her voice. ‘You
’d
think once in the morning would be enough for you.’

Her words didn’t register for a moment as he began to slowly move.

Then he stopped.

‘What do you mean, “once in the morning”?’

Alexis laughed and he could hear her head move on the pillow as she turned to face him. ‘You animal.’ She laughed again. ‘You just had your way with me minutes ago.’

Kenny sat up. ‘What do you mean, “minutes ago”?’ He reached across her to the bedroom lamp. ‘I’m just back from a run. You sure you weren’t dreaming about me? Again.’

‘Again, my backside,’ Alexis said and pushed at his chest. Her smile faltered on her face as she read the look on his face. ‘Kenny O’Neill, you are a horror.’ From her expression she expected him to admit he was teasing her. ‘Stop kidding me on.’

‘I’m not kidding, Alexis. Look.’ He pointed to his running gear in a damp slump by the bathroom door. He gripped her arm, suddenly anxious. ‘Tell me. Did you think you had sex with me already this morning, or were you dreaming?’

Alexis was staring at his running clothes as she tried to work out just what had happened.

‘I can still feel you. Inside me,’ she said. ‘I was still half asleep. At the start. It wasn’t a dream.’ Her head moved slightly. ‘And where did those flowers come from?’

‘What...?’ Kenny followed her line of sight and saw a large bunch of flowers on the floor by the door. ‘Where the fuck did they come from?’

‘Oh my god. Ohmyfuckinggod.’ Alexis brought her knees up to her chest, her face tight with horror. ‘Someone came in here and...’

‘Alexis.’ Kenny reached for her.

She jumped up as if burned. ‘Get your fucking hands off me.’ She stood, her hands over her breasts. ‘What the fuck is going on?’

Her face stretched in horror as her mind replayed recent events. ‘You... he... someone was behind me. He just slid in a little...’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Didn’t last long. I thought... Kenny, what happened?’

‘Fucked if I know,’ said Kenny, grabbing his jeans. ‘But I’m about to find out.’

He dressed in record time and ran down to the reception. Davie looked up from his computer terminal. He instantly read the anger on Kenny’s face.

‘Has something gone wrong, sir?’

‘Apart from your guests, has anyone else come in the hotel this morning?’

‘Just the usual deliveries, sir. Oh, and did madam like the flowers you ordered for her?’

‘What flowers?’

‘There was a man. He... he... he turned up not long after you went out for your run. Said he was making a delivery. Asked for the room number for the couple...’

‘Did you not think it was a bit fucking unusual for a flower delivery at six-thirty on a Sunday morning?’

‘I... eh... is something wrong with the flowers, sir?’

‘It’s more with the delivery!’ Kenny shouted. He paused and his head shot round to the front door. He had seen those flowers before. He walked out the door, noticed one of the urns was empty. Davie appeared at his shoulder.

‘Ooh.’ He blanched.

Kenny brushed past him and ran back up to the room. Alexis was dressed and was throwing her things back into her overnight bag.

‘Take me home, Kenny. Take me home now.’

‘Alexis, what the fuck is going on?’

She had been crying, her eyes were puffy and her bottom lip was trembling.

‘Alexis.’ Kenny tried to force some composure into his voice. ‘Tell me what happened. Tell me everything.’

‘I... I was half asleep, you know, and then... you…’ – disgust framed her face –‘...whoever the fuck it was slid across the bed. He... fucked me. I fell asleep again and next thing I know you... you were inside me and...’ Her face lengthened in grief. ‘I’ve been... again.’ She tore at her clothes. ‘I need a shower. I need to clean myself. I need...’

Kenny strode over to her and gripped her arms, thinking about the guy in the Blue Yaris.

‘Can you describe him?’

‘One, I don’t have eyes in the back of my head. And two, even if I did the room was dark.’ Alexis fought to get her arms free from Kenny. Such was the force of her movement that when Kenny let go her fist connected with his cheekbone.

He rubbed at it. ‘Fuck.’

‘Wish I could do that to the bastard who...’ Alexis turned and started to unbutton her cardigan as she walked towards the bathroom. ‘I need to shower.’

‘No.’ Kenny caught up with her. ‘Did the guy...?’ He made a face.

‘Yes, he came, Kenny, but his junk will be mixed up with yours and besides...’

‘On this occasion you are not a hooker,’ said Kenny, knowing where she was going with this. ‘You’re here with your boyfriend and you’ve been violated. The police have to listen to you.’

‘You think I’m going to the police?’ Alexis was leaning forward, one arm out of her sleeve. ‘I’ll deal with this in my own way.’ She stood in front of a mirror and put her arm back in the sleeve. ‘Occupational hazard, don’t you know.’ Her eyes were full of loathing. Whether for herself, or for the man who had done this to her, Kenny had no idea.

‘But the man, whoever he was, had no idea you were a hooker...’ He tailed off as the implications of what she said hit home. ‘You know this man?’

‘I told you before, Kenny. It was dark. It was just another cock.’ She spat the words out.

That part of his ego that was always wondering how Alexis felt about him got its answer. He was just another cock. Just another customer. He put it to the side for the moment. There was much more important issues at play here than his male pride.

This was no accident, he was sure of it, and if Alexis didn’t know who had raped her, she knew why.

‘What aren’t you telling me, Alexis?’

‘Fuck you, O’Neill.’

‘You either know this guy, or you know why you were targeted. C’mon, tell me.’ Kenny only realised that he was gripping her arms again when she shrugged him off. He automatically moved back out of her reach in case another fist connected with his face.

‘Take me home, Kenny. Please,’ said Alexis as she slumped to the floor on her knees.

There was a knock at the door and Davie’s face appeared. Then he stepped into the room, tugging at his sleeves and all but shrinking with every step he took. ‘I’m sorry, Mr and Mrs O’Neill, the hotel management would like to know what they can do to...’ He tailed off as he wondered what exactly had gone on and how on earth they could compensate. ‘There will of course be no charge for your stay and I have written down the number of the local police station...’

‘There will be no police.’ Alexis managed to get back to her feet, stepped forward and pulled the paper from the man’s hand. ‘Nothing happened...’ – she looked at his badge and offered him a thousand-watt smile – ‘…Davie.’ Davie almost buckled at the knees. ‘There is no need either to tear up our bill, we are happy to pay.’

‘Are we fuck,’ roared Kenny. ‘This fuckwit gave a bogus flower delivery man our room number and...’

‘Kenny,’ Alexis said firmly, ‘if you want this relationship to continue, you will do as I say.’ She squared her shoulders and turned to face Davie. ‘We have to go back to Glasgow. A business emergency of sorts. Please prepare our bill.’ Again with the smile and Davie was mallow.

‘Yes, of course, Mrs O’Neill.’ With a furtive look at Kenny, Davie fled the room.

‘If you think...’ Kenny began.

‘Kenny, I’m not arguing with you,’ said Alexis, her face showing all the expression of a mime’s mask. ‘We are leaving now and we will speak of this no more.’

‘Yeah, that’ll be fucking right,’ he replied. Alexis raised her eyebrows, but her eyes shone with tears betraying the fact that her hard-fought control was moments away from being lost again. Kenny swallowed what he was going to say next and thought, give it a couple of days and if she doesn’t explain what the fuck is going on, there will be no deal.

They gathered their belongings and flung them without any care in their respective bags. Alexis left the room before Kenny was finished packing. His eyes followed her out of the room and he read fragile defiance in every step she took. What strength it took to do so he had no idea, but he had never admired anyone more than he did in that moment.

At reception Kenny ignored the middle-aged couple who were about to step up to the desk.

‘Davie,’ Kenny said and nodded to the side.

Davie excused himself with the couple and walked to the side of the desk. He stepped to where he might have with a ‘normal’ customer, took one look at Kenny’s face and took a step back.

‘Describe the flower guy,’ Kenny said. It was not a request.

‘He was about your height.’ Davie screwed up his face as he thought. ‘Lean. A bit of muscle on him. Cropped hair, army style.’

‘Face, race, colouring?’

‘White, average,’ Davie said hesitantly. ‘You know, to be honest, if I had to pick him out of a police line-up I don’t think I could.’

Kenny said nothing. He had thought exactly the same thing.

He looked at Davie, who seemed to shrink under his gaze. He threw a card at him. ‘Anything else occurs to you, you phone me, okay?’

‘Okay, sir. I’ll do that.’ The relief that his ordeal by Kenny was almost over was palpable.

‘As for your bill,’ said Kenny, ‘you can shove it up your arse.’

The male customer at the far side of the desk opened his mouth as if to complain at Kenny’s language. At the intake of his breath Kenny turned to face him. Reading Kenny’s face, the man stopped as if the words were stuck in his throat like a bone.

18

Kenny needed to kick ass. He sent a text to his cousin, Ian.

You want to meet down the gym?

Half an hour later he got a reply.

Busy, dude. Got me some chill
-
out stuff, if you know what I mean. Another time?

Kenny did know what he meant. Other than alcohol he had never been tempted by drugs. He was too afraid of losing control. With alcohol he knew where he stood, but with drugs there was always a chance they contained an unknown substance. Fuck that for a carry on. Mug’s game. However, on this occasion he could almost see the attraction. Wouldn’t it be nice to just give up his worries to the weed for a few hours?

Nah.

The worries would still be there when the shit wore off.

He considered his options. There was the drive around town until a road-rager ran into him option. Or he could go down to The Hut. This was actually a hut – well, two or three large huts nailed together and just this side of health and safety safe. It was called King’s Gym, although everyone who used it preferred ‘The Hut’ and it was a Mixed Martial Arts gym where some of his bouncers trained. Monday night was a free night. Guys often turned up to see if there was someone available to spar.

An hour later he was in his shorts and vest and a guy just shy of seven feet tall was rubbing his face in the mat. He reached back for a pressure point but the other man – ‘Shug’ was the only word to be issued from his thick, rubber hose lips before the sparring began – managed to move out of reach.

Kenny shifted. Brought his hips up and his head down at the same time. Managed to move onto his back, but it was only a moment’s respite before Shug’s forearm was across his throat and Kenny was wondering about the wisdom of this visit. His skills weren’t suitable for this kind of fighting. Once it got down on the ground he lacked the moves to get himself free from his opponent if he was pinned.

A grappler he was not.

Shug kept his centre of gravity low and his weight over Kenny’s chest. His vision started to spark. It was only a wee sparring match. He should tap out, but he was fucked if he was giving in. His breathing, already laboured before he got into this position, was getting shorter. He couldn’t fill his lungs. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the mat. He punched at Shug’s kidney area and it had all the effect of hitting the man with a bath sponge.

A tap on the floor and it would be all over.

Wasn’t going to happen.

There was always a way, his old master told him. Before his oxygen supply failed he had to find one.

An escape, he had to find an escape. He had to create space. A move popped into his head and he reached under Shug’s stomach with his left arm and brought his right leg up. He grabbed his foot and twisted his hip and as he twisted his hip he brought his knee up. He pushed back, brought the other knee up and he was now safe in the butterfly guard.

Shug grinned and nodded. ‘Nice.’

The bell rang and the match was over. Kenny hid his relief. He wasn’t sure he could have stood any more of Shug’s treatment.

At the showers, the gym owner, Matt, was standing with a towel round his waist talking to another man. He started this place in the Seventies to try and keep the young away from gangs. He didn’t look old enough to have had such a social conscience all those years ago. Think unlined face, bald head, cauliflower ears and shoulders as wide as the backseat of a car.

Matty the Hut was his nickname. But only used behind his back. Despite being in his early sixties, he regularly took to the mat and beat men half his age.

‘Wee Shug nearly had you there, Kenny,’ the older man grinned. ‘There is such a thing as matching up height and weight, you know.’

Wee
Shug. That happy Scots tendency towards irony.

‘Wouldn’t like to meet his bigger cousin.’ He made a face to emphasise the effort he had just put in. ‘Mind you, where’s the fun in a good match?’ Kenny laughed. ‘Don’t want things too easy, do you?’ Now that the fight was over he was exhilarated. Just what the doctor ordered.

‘You look like a man who’s found some resolution,’ said Matt. For an old bruiser he had a decent vocabulary on him.

‘Never fails,’ said Kenny.

‘Do you know...?’ Matt turned to the side and indicated the man he had been talking to.

‘Hey, Liam,’ Kenny said.

Liam Devlin, Glasgow councillor, nodded.

‘Fuck’s sake, O’Neill, do you know everybody?’ asked Matt.

‘Only the important people, eh Kenny?’ Liam smiled. This was the first time Kenny had ever seen the man without a shirt and tie on. Until now, if anyone asked, Kenny would have said he slept with his suit on and he simply eased off the knot of his tie a little before jumping under the quilt.

First time he
’d
seen him naked.

Who knew, he thought. Under that pudgy face and M&S suit was a well-muscled torso. Legs that would look okay behind some chicken wire mind you, but he had done a fair bit of upper-body work.

Kenny smiled at both men and walked through to the showers.

Afterwards, he sought Matt out. A lot of people came through the doors of this place. The MMA community was a large one. In the main they were a good bunch but some of them got to like the power that came with strength and an ability to use it. Some of them mixed in the wrong circles. Circles where Kenny had a few contacts.

Information was important to him and Matt might let slip something that he didn’t realise was of any importance. Ergo, a good man to be on talking terms with. Which was why he occasionally made a charitable contribution.

Matt was ringside, talking a pair of teenagers through some grappling moves.

‘Couldn’t you have been here earlier when Wee Shug was driving my head through the mat?’ Kenny asked.

‘Ach, you were fine, man,’ said Matt, keeping his eyes on the boys.

‘Buy you a coffee?’

‘Sure,’ he said to Kenny. ‘Right, guys,’ he addressed the boys. ‘I’ll be back in five minutes. Take turns at being the one mounted, eh?’

The boys made a face and said in concert, ‘Mounted, ewww.’

The coffee machine was a couple of bucket chairs down from the ladies’ changing room. Which was new since his last visit.

‘You going P.C. on us, Matt?’

‘Got to, Kenny. Or the bastards will close me down. Besides, the lassies are getting pretty good at this stuff now.’

‘The usual?’ Kenny put some coins in the machine without waiting for an answer and it produced a couple of white coffees with an apologetic effort of foam on top. He sipped at it. Hot and tasted as if someone had mixed the contents of an ashtray into the coffee granules.

In the pause before the conversation started, Kenny looked afresh at the older man. How long had he been coming here, and how little did he know about the man? Pathetic. For someone whose ‘thing’ was information he
’d
slipped up here. As far as he knew, Matt had no family and devoted his life to the gym. And that was it.

‘How long you known Liam Devlin?’ asked Matt.

‘Long enough to know he’s a man who can get things done,’ Kenny answered, surprised by the question.

‘Okay.’ Matt nodded slowly as he considered something.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘The usual,’ Matt answered. ‘Money...’

‘Hey, you know I’ll...’

‘I cannae always come to you, Kenny. Don’t think I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for the club...’

‘It’s not always community spirit that motivates me, Matt. Take those clapped out heaters you had in here last winter. It’ll be nice to train during a cold snap without freezing my balls off.’

‘Ah,’ Matt laughed. ‘Might have guessed it was more than altruism at play the way you insisted on how the money should be spent.’

‘What do you need it for now?’

‘New mats, repairs on the roof, need to replace some of the... Christ…’ He paused. ‘I could go on for some time.’

‘So where does Devlin come in?’

‘He’s been training here for over six months now–’

‘First time I’ve seen him,’ Kenny interrupted.

‘Aye well, he comes in at odd times. Anyway, he was in the fast lane to a heart attack. We got him fit and now he wants to help.’ Matt shrugged. ‘Didn’t want to pin my hopes on a wide-boy.’

‘Liam Devlin, a wide-boy?’ Kenny asked.

‘That’s maybe understating some of the stuff I’ve heard, Kenny. Not a nice man to get on the wrong side of.’

Kenny made a face of disbelief. ‘Aye, he might manage to get your car impounded.’

‘Naw, Kenny,’ argued Matt. ‘From what I hear he’s in to some heavy duty stuff.’

Kenny exhaled loudly through pursed lips. ‘Nah, he’s a pussy-cat. Believe me, if Devlin was into dodgy stuff, I
’d
know about it.’

‘Okay, Kenny, okay.’ Matt looked unconvinced. ‘Maybe I could trust him with some funding ventures then. Eh?’ Kenny nodded. Matt nodded and smiled and patted Kenny on the knee.

‘Hey, it’s good to see you. Keeping your nose clean?’

‘Squeaky.’ Kenny paused. He
’d
not articulated to himself what he wanted to ask Matt about. ‘Know that programme on the Beeb where famous people try to find out where they came from?’

‘Aye,’ said Matt, ‘
Who Do You Think You Are?
’

‘Aye,’ said Kenny. ‘Well, I thought I
’d
look into it myself.’

‘Ah shit, and there’s me left my genealogy degree at home today. How the fuck am I supposed to help you with that?’ Matt asked.

A loud squeal sounded from where they
’d
left the boys sparring.

‘Hey, don’t you two be killing each other over there,’ Matt shouted in their direction.

‘Ear to the ground, Matt,’ Kenny said and judging that the coffee would be cool enough to drink now, he took a sip. He made a face. It tasted even worse second mouthful round. ‘You’re a man with his ear to the ground.’

‘Aye, only when he’s got the knee of a twenty-stone bruiser pinning him there.’

‘My dad’s name was, or is – I don’t know if he’s alive or dead – Peter O’Neill and...’ Something in Matt’s expression made him stop speaking.

‘Pete O’Neill’s your old man?’ asked Matt with a stunned look. Then something else flitted across his face before the look of surprise returned. ‘Fuck me.’

‘You knew him?’ Kenny’s heart pounded.

‘Man, he was quite the character. Knew him? Everybody knew Pete.’ He examined Kenny’s face for a second. A second that lengthened into a minute. ‘Fuck me, I don’t know how it didn’t occur to me before now. You’re his spit.’

‘How well did you know him, Matt?’

‘Well enough to know that the BBC would only film a toned-down version of his life,’ Matt said and shook his head again. ‘Jee-sus. How come it didn’t occur to me already? You are so like him.’ He slapped his forehead. ‘And then there’s the name. Man, I’m losing it.’

Loud swearing boomed from where the boys were training. Sounded like they were about to take it to another level.

Matt stood up and craned his neck to see what was going on.

‘What can you tell me about him, Matt?’

More swearing and the sound of bone on bone.

‘Aww, fuck lads,’ Matt shouted. ‘Kenny, I’ll need to stop these two from killing each other.’ He moved away at a half-run. ‘I’ve got your number,’ he shouted over his shoulder. ‘I’ll give you a call, aye?’