Ugly Beautiful (3 page)

It was always Tommy's wish to have his own son, Jason take over his throne as the head man in Edinburgh's underworld. But when Jason rebelled, ran away from home, joined the army and travelled the world, Tommy had turned to Brad as his new heir and right hand man to his sleazy, corrupt, violent empire. And of course, Brad had become eternally grateful for that opportunity ever since.

But since Jason's return from the wilderness, Brad had felt secretly threatened that Jason was winning back his father's affections. And instead of seeing Jason as a friend, cousin, step brother type. He only saw him as an arch rival to what he had convinced himself over the years was rightfully his. And since Jason's return over a year ago, he'd been carefully hatching and scheming a small plan of action to do something to Jason that would not only bring shame in his fathers eyes but also rid him from the equation altogether.

Brad glanced up at the tenth floor of the block of harbour flats once again. He knew he'd been keeping the biggest dark secret Tommy Broughton had out of all the dark and nasty secrets he knew about the man. It lingered through his brain, festering with opportunity, that he could use one of those secrets now, and too his own selfish advantage. Brad was the only other person who knew about it. And now this random opportunity had just fallen onto his lap. An opportunity that even he had failed to consider or even conjure up from the deepest and darkest parts of his wild imagination. In fact, it felt just as sick to him as it felt pure genius. He couldn't let it pass him by, could he? When would he ever get another chance like the one that had just presented itself to him..

Brad picked up his phone and took a deep breath. This was it. The first moment of the rest of his new life and more importantly, his rise to power. His mind had just been made up.

'Sorry, just came to a roundabout there Jase and don't have my hands free kit with me.'

'You driving?' asked Jason curiously.

'Yeah, sure am.' Brad squirmed in his seat, playfully squeezing the chin of the quiet little girl sitting beside him. 'I'm actually just on my way back up from Newcastle. Anyway, how about I pop into yours on the way back instead and grab the package from you then? I'll only be another hour or so.'

'That sounds perfect Brad. I'd appreciate that very much, Cheers.' replied Jason sounding relieved and overjoyed.

'Oh it's my pleasure Jase. Whatever I can do to help a good pal out. See you in about an hour then my friend.'

'Cheers. See you soon man.'

Jason hung up. He felt good and not as tired as he should have been anymore. He started up the engine and drove.

Brad slowly lowered the phone from his ear. He clutched it tightly in between his fingers. He felt a little worried, but immensely excited too. He started the engine to his own car and reversed it a few spaces back. Parking behind a large transit construction van, almost out of view from the building he was previously watching.

***

Ten minutes later Brad watched with great anticipation from his BMW as Jason pulled up in his car outside the apartment building he was originally parked at. Jason exited his car carrying the briefcase and approached the front door to the tall block of flats. He disappeared inside, heading straight for the lift. He stepped out of the lift on the tenth floor and made his way towards the second door on his left. He pulled out a set of keys and opened the door. Immediately something deep inside him felt a little uneasy. His gut told him to open the door very carefully. He had no idea where these feelings were coming from. Something didn't feel quite right. Everything was just so damn quiet.

Jason entered the hallway. He felt weary of the eerie silence. No TV blasting, no music vibrating through the walls and floors. Every light out. Quietness was not what he was used too from his ex party-girl Missus. Even in the medium throws of pregnancy. She was not the type of woman who enjoyed quiet time alone. She always had to be distracting herself with something. Whether it was music blasting out twenty four seven from the kitchen radio, while the radio upstairs blared out a completely different station and the TV in the living room blurted out its own music channel or soap opera. And if it weren't the TV and radio then it was chatting with friends face to face for hours on end, or on the phone, or online. Just yakking away about the most superficial, random and pointless shit that Jason had ever heard two people talking about.

Even cooking and working out when friends weren't available. She just couldn't handle being alone with her own thoughts. His wife thrived on constant noise and distraction. Quietness was her worst enemy. One time he had even tried to get her to meditate with him for a laugh up in the bedroom. She had lasted thirty seconds before crying out in frustration that staring at a blank fucking wall for almost one minute was the hardest, most boring and tedious act she had ever been forced to do in her short life. And for as long as she lived, she would never, ever put herself through that hell again.

Jason placed the briefcase down beside the coat wrack and stood eerily still right in the middle of hallway. He tried to listen carefully. Where the hell was she? He had texted her before leaving Glasgow only an hour and a half before just to see what she was up to. Although he never mentioned that he was coming home. Still, she was suppose to have two friends over while watching a re run of last weeks
Britain's Got Talent.
As his ears gradually adjusted to the quietness of the flat, the faintest sound of moaning could soon be heard coming from upstairs and behind a closed bedroom door at the far end of the apartment, but on the second floor.

'What the fuck?' Jason whispered to himself in utter disbelief of what he was hearing.

He drew his gun from his belt and made his way up the stairs of the two storey apartment. He reached the floor landing. He made his way past the large and newly installed shower wet room, installed so that his pregnant wife didn‘t have to strain herself anymore getting in and out of the high bath. He stepped gently past another two opened, spare bedroom doorways. Finally he came to a halt outside the only closed door in the whole entire apartment. His and his wife's master bedroom. The sound of a man's sexual grunts and groans could be heard from behind the other side of the door, no doubt about it. Jason looked perplexed and utterly distraught. He prayed for some kind of misunderstanding that would set everything right in just a few moments when he opened that door. But when he pushed it open his worst fears were swiftly revealed and the comfortable little world he had built for himself was about to come crumbling down.

A large, well built and overly tanned man in his late forties looked to be having rough, doggy style sex with an attractive, yet pregnant young brunette in her early twenties. The brunette wore a see-through, silk black nightgown and was doing a good job of hiding the large bump in her stomach. Strangely the woman didn't seem to be a willing participant in the action, yet neither was she struggling or putting up any kind of resistance to the older man who was grinding and pounding away from behind her.

With the door fully opened Jason remained where he stood, right in the middle of the doorway, just standing, watching, mortified. All colour drained from his face. He could have been a ghost in that moment.

After a few seconds the woman, distracted by the presence of someone else in the room, turned her head and darted her eyes towards the doorway only to see the horrified Jason for the first time. In an instant she struggled free from the man's strong grip of her hips and wriggled quickly from their intimate embrace until she was backed up, right against the bed's headboard. The middle aged man, confused, looked a little taken back by her sudden actions.

'Whit the fuck are you doing Sandra? I was aw-most ready...' said the middle aged man with a broad and deep Scottish accent.

'Jason…' gasped the woman, Sandra. She looked absolutely mortified as she huddled up against the headboard even more. She ignored the man who froze where he knelt on hearing Jason's name. A great silence fell upon the whole room.

'Jason.' the man finally exhaled without even moving or turning his head around to face him. 'You should still be in Glasgow ma boy.'

Jason remained eerily still and silent. Tears formed in Sandra's eyes, then burst like a weak dam down the sides of her cheeks as she started sobbing.

'Jason, this isnae... What it seems.' Sandra pleaded.

Jason raised his gun and pointed it at her. Tears began swelling up in his eyes too, though he fought with them desperately so that they remained in his eyes.

'He made me Jason. He always makes me...'

'Shut the fuck up.' the man yelled at Sandra, yet still he wouldn't turn around to face his son. 'Just shut... up.'

'Just tell me one thing Sandra.' Jason finally said with the faintest of breaths. 'Who is the father of that baby?'

Sandra glanced at the man beside her on the bed then back at Jason again. It was the desperate look of hesitation that gave her away.

'Jason I... It's yours. Of course, she’s yours.'

But the seed of doubt had already been placed inside Jason's mind. The man closed his eyes, gently shaking his head. He knew what was coming, no doubt about that. Jason tensed his finger on the trigger of the gun. He took a long, deep, hard breath.

'Jason please. The baby… Your baby.' pleaded the woman.

Jason, without another thought, shot the woman once in the forehead. The middle aged man jolted with shock where he knelt. After a long pause he finally turned himself around to face Jason for the very first time.

'Jason… Son.'

Jason looked cold, emotionless. The only thoughts and feelings running through his head were filled with hate, anger, rage, suffering and revenge.

'Father...' Jason replied, almost as quiet as a mouse.

The man gently nodded, ready for the flow of bullets which were already spraying from Jason's gun. Jason, without flinching, emptied the remaining round of bullets into his father's chest and head. When his gun ran empty he took out another clip from his pocket, loaded his gun again and continued to empty the second clip of ammo into his father. The bed was literally transformed into a blood bath.

Outside, Brad glanced up at the bedroom window to Jason's flat from his BMW. He was sipping on a small flask of whiskey. The sound of gunshots echoed all the way down the dim lamp lit street. Gunshots weren't a very familiar sound in these parts. The police would be on their way very soon. No doubt about that. A sly grin flickered across Brad's face.

'What was that noise?' asked the little girl still sitting quietly beside Brad.

'That my dear, was the sound of the end of an era in this town and the beginning of a new one.'

Back in the apartment bedroom Jason remained frozen in a morbid state of shock, hurt and numbness. He didn’t feel like himself anymore. He felt like some cold hearted, alien, psycho nutter had just stepped into his body and taken complete control. What the fuck had he just done? He thought of doing nothing now but to sit and wait for the siren crew to show up and drag his sorry arse away to his new confined cell home. Then another thought flickered through his mind. Was there still one more bullet left in the gun? It was possible. Should he do the decent thing and end it for himself here and now too? It wasn’t a bad idea.

He raised the gun to his face without another moments hesitation. He opened his mouth and placed the smoking hot barrel a few inches inside, careful not to let the hot metal touch the tip of his tongue or lips. His mind went blank. There was nothing else for him to live for in this life, nothing at all. And he would be damned if he was going to spend the rest of it in a dark and miserable prison cell twiddling his bloody thumbs.

Jason glanced at the body of his dead wife and baby, then at that sea of red oozing all around her, most of it from his father's bullet riddled body. Had he really done that? He found himself struggling to remember it and it had only happened a few seconds a go. Had someone else really killed his wife and father?

Well it was well and truly over now and he knew it. Jason closed his eyes and pulled back the trigger. Quick and fast. Without further thought or hesitation, it was the only way to do it. There was a click...then noting. He was still there. He was still thinking and feeling. The chamber was empty. The bullets were all gone. Jason didn't even let out a slight whimper of relief, just a cold simple shake of his head, while opening his eyes to the grizzly sight in front of him again.

Jason took the gun from his mouth. Another image flashed through his head. A remote cottage, a distant countryside refuge. A place far, far away from here to take shelter and think about his actions and life for a few days. That's all he needed, just a few days to think things through until the authorities caught up with him, of which they surely would.