ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror (12 page)

“Leave him alone,” Andrew’s wife screamed before Davie had chance to stop her.

Frankie turned to her.  “Or else what, bitch?”

“You’re nothing but a pathetic bully.”

Frankie looked around the room at everyone and laughed hysterically.  “Check this one out.  Ten seconds ago she was behaving quite nicely and being a good little girl.  Now she’s grown a big fat set of balls.  You want to take me on, sweetheart?”

“Just be quiet,” Davie whispered in her ear.  Thankfully she took his advice and said no more to antagonise his brother.

“That’s it,” said Frankie.  “Listen to my baby brother.  He’ll keep you safe.”

Michelle sidled up to Frankie and draped herself on him.  Davie could tell that she’d snorted a line of coke recently.  Her eyes were bloodshot, wide as dinner plates, while her lips puckered as though she had a mouth full of ash.  “What’s the plan then, honey?” she slurred.  “We going to party or what?”

Frankie kissed her hard on the mouth and then pushed her down onto the sofa beside Penelope.  “Yeah, baby.  It’s going to get real, but we have all night so just settle in and get some gear on the go.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” said Dom, hopping up and down.  Jordan was in agreement and slapped his twin on the back.

“Before we do that, though,” said Frankie.  “Let’s get the women sorted.  Last thing we need is them getting away.”  He turned to Davie.  “Get the old bird taped up, little bro.”

Davie stared at his brother to make sure he was serious.  “She won’t do anything, Frankie.  I’ll watch her.”

Frankie grabbed the tape off Dom and threw it at Davie.  “I’m getting real sick of your arguing, man.  Just do what I’m telling you and tape the old bag up.”

Davie stared at his brother a while longer, but realised he was pushing Frankie’s patience.  He turned away and pulled off a strip of tape.  “I’m sorry,” he told the woman, and then began taping her up.”

She didn’t resist him, but the whole time he wrapped the tape around her wrists she had a look of utter hatred on her face.  It made Davie feel wretched inside.  As soon as he was done, Davie stood up and moved over to his brother who was peeking out of a gap in the curtains.

“What you want, little bro?” Frankie asked as Davie approached. He didn’t turn away from the window.

“How you know it was me?”

“Cus it seems like lately every time I turn around you’re on my back.”

“Just looking out for you.”

Frankie let the curtain go and turned around.  He smiled at Davie.  “I know you are.  You’re my blood and that means more than anything.  But you keep riding me and we’re going to have a problem.  You get me?”

Davie nodded.  He tried to swallow but found himself unable.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Frankie continued.  “I got my shit tight – wrapped up solid.”

Davie turned and looked at Andrew in the armchair.  “They’ll go to the pigs as soon as you let them go, you know?  You’ll end up back inside.”

Frankie smirked.  “You see, that’s where you underestimate me, little bro.  Who said I’m going to let them go?”

Frankie moved away from the window, leaving Davie to think about what his brother intended.  He looked around the living room at Andrew and his family: Bex unconscious and her mother taped up and frightened.  Then he looked at Michelle, the twins, and his brother.  He knew right then that he was different to them all – the odd one out.  Unlike them, he was not enjoying this.  Not enjoying it at all.

Chapter Twelve

Andrew looked down at his daughter and fought the urge to cry.  He would not give these thugs the satisfaction of that.  He knew now that he had indeed heard something snap as his precious child had been pushed viciously down the stairs.  Her left wrist was purple from the subdural bleeding almost certainly caused by a broken bone.  Agony would consume her when she awoke and Andrew hoped with all his heart that she slept till this was all over.

But when will that be, and what will have happened in the meantime?

Andrew watched Frankie, who was kneeling beside the coffee table that was now turned right-side-up.  He was emptying a small plastic bag onto the glass surface and a small pile of fine white powder was building up.  Frankie’s girlfriend – Michelle – crouched beside him with a small makeup mirror.  She was using it to sweep the substance into several parallel lines.  The twins stood watching nearby like baying dogs, almost drooling at the sight of the powder in front of them.

Then there was Davie, Frankie’s younger brother –
little bro. 
Andrew watched the boy sitting beside Pen and couldn’t work him out.  He was as complicit in this as the rest of them, but something about the expression on his face told Andrew that Davie was not enjoying any of this. 

In fact it looks like the kid wants out of here as much as I do. 

While everyone was busy doing other things, Andrew took the opportunity to test his bonds.  He wriggled side to side, trying to loosen the adhesion of the duct tape that held him to the chair.  At first the tape started to give a little, but then the plastic bunched up and became unbreakable.  There was no chance of getting free.

Which means I’m fucked.

Andrew watched while Frankie and his entourage began snorting the lines of white powder, their noses twitching frantically as the substance entered their bodies.  Frankie’s regular twitch had now gone into overdrive.

“That’s good shit,” said one of the twins orgasmically.  Andrew couldn’t tell whether it was Dom or Jordan.

“Innit,” said Michelle.  “Fuckin’ heaven.”

“Not too much,” Frankie told them.  “We can’t zone out when there’s shit to take care of.”

Michelle cackled maliciously then sauntered over towards Andrew.  She patted him on the cheek hard enough that it was almost a slap.  “You ready to party, old man?  You want some of this?”  She rubbed her fingers against Andrew’s lips and forced past to his gums.  He tasted the powder on her fingernails and suddenly his entire mouth went numb.  He spat, trying to clear his mouth.

She removed her hand and Andrew stared her dead in the eye.  He said nothing, but privately thought about how disturbing it was that such a young girl could be so devoid of remorse or appropriate emotions.  There was no telling how far these messed-up teenagers were prepared to go.  Andrew looked across at Pen who was looking back at him from beside Davie.  She had the same anxious expression on her face that he no doubt wore on his.  Both of them were afraid, but both of them were also indignant of the injustice taking place inside their home.  There was a look on Pen’s face which told Andrew that underneath her anxiety was a steely determination to not give in to these thugs.  He felt exactly the same way.

Our home,
thought Andrew.
  The one place we’re supposed to feel safe.  I won’t let a bunch of uncontrollable kids take that away from me.

Frankie switched the television on and turned up the volume, then gave Andrew a catlike grin.  “Don’t want people hearing the screams now, do we?”

Andrew swallowed a lump in his throat.  Things were about to begin.  He felt like he was sitting on a rollercoaster climbing up the very first hill about to take a horrifying plunge.

Michelle clapped her hands together.  “Sweet! 
Friends
has just started.  That shit is so funny.”

Frankie pulled Michelle’s arm so that she spun to face him.  “We’re not here to watch bloody Ross shag Rachel.”

Michelle’s smile sunk away and she nodded.  She looked like a chastised child.

Frankie really has a hold on these kids
. 
What a difference a few years of age can make.  They almost look up to him like a father.

“You guys keep an eye on things,” Frankie told the group.  “I’m going to check out the kitchen.”

“What for?” Davie asked him, an apprehensive tone to his voice.

Frankie ruffled his brother’s hair.  “Just going to look for some munchies.”

Then Frankie disappeared into the kitchen.  Somehow the room felt empty without him, like an atmosphere of oppression and danger had left the room.  Andrew took the chance to speak to the others.

“Davie, you have to stop this?  We’ve done nothing to you.”

Davie shook his head and didn’t reply – his expression was tormented.

“Davie!” Andrew repeated.

A slap stung his cheek, rattling his entire face.  It was one of the twins that had hit him.  “Shut the fuck up, bitch, or I’ll mess you up bad!”

“Nice one, Dom,” said the other twin.  Andrew noticed a slight difference between them now.  The other twin, Jordan, had a wispy goatee growing on his chin, whilst Dom was clean shaven.  Dom also wore a sovereign ring which had been attached to the hand that had slapped him.  Andrew could feel a throbbing bruise forming already.

“What do you get out of this?”  Andrew directed the question to all of them.

“Shits-n-giggles,” Dom replied.  “Now be quiet, or else.”

“Or else what?  You’re going to do what you want to do anyway.”

“Yeah, but we can make it hurt a lot worse,” said Frankie re-entering the room.  “So don’t get on our tits.”

Frankie was clasping a pair of scissors that he must’ve gotten from one of the kitchen drawers.  The blades were long and glinted under the soft light of the living room.

“Before the party starts we need to get everyone looking presentable.”  Frankie pointed the scissors at Pen.  “And I think this old bag is in serious need of a haircut.”

The teenagers cheered, except for Davie who seemed like he was trying to force a smile but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Leave my wife alone!” Andrew shouted.

Frankie ignored the outburst and grabbed a hold of Pen’s hair.  She squealed, making a tormented sound that Andrew had not heard from her before and would be happy to never hear again.

Andrew screamed again at Frankie, ordering him to get out of his home, but the demands fell on deaf ears.  Frankie dragged Pen down onto the floor and yanked a thick clump of her hair. Then he cut it with the scissors.  She began to weep as strands of her soft brown hair fell to the carpet in front of her.

Less than ten minutes later, Frankie had hacked every hair from Pen’s head, leaving behind several clumps of ragged stubble.  When Pen gazed up at Andrew, she looked like a different person – bold with a face stained black with smeared mascara.  Andrew’s chest hurt and for a moment he thought he was having a heart attack.  Then he realised it was just the grief of seeing his wife humiliated this way.  Andrew joined in her sobbing.

Frankie was grinning.  “She looks much hotter now, don’t ya think?”

Andrew spat.  “Fuck you!”

Frankie rushed forward and struck Andrew across his face.  Stars invaded his vision and he wondered if the blow had broken his jaw.  He moved it left and right, sparking extra pain, but was satisfied that it hadn’t.

“Come on, Frankie,” said Davie.  “You’ve made your point.  They’re both in tears.  Let’s go.”

Frankie turned and pointed the scissors at Davie and shook his head.  “I ain’t even getting started yet, little bro.”

“What did this guy do to you?” Davie asked.  Andrew wondered about the answer himself.

Frankie’s lip twitched as his anger seemed to rise.  “Why do you care so much, man?  He’s just some stuck-up cunt with a flash car who thinks his shit don’t stink.”

Is that it?
Andrew thought. 
Is this whole thing just because I have a nice car?  This whole nightmare is down to some insecure thug resenting me, jealous of what I have?

“What’s your problem, little D,” asked Michelle.  “Just chill your fuckin’ beans, twat!”

“Hey,” said Frankie, pointing the scissors at his girlfriend.  “Don’t talk to him like that.”  Frankie threw the scissors down onto the table and approached his brother, putting an arm around him on the sofa.  “Davie’s just a bit sensitive, ain’t that right?  He worries a lot, but means no harm?”

Davie nodded.  “I just don’t like any of this.  It’s going to end badly.”

“Yeah, for him,” said Dom, pointing to Andrew.

Andrew sat silently, bewildered by what was becoming some sort of surreal soap opera: people bickering casually in front of him whilst he was held captive in his own living room.

Davie helped Pen back onto the sofa, pulling her up by a handful of duct tape at her back.  Then he sat back down beside her.  For some reason, Andrew decided, Davie seemed protective over Pen.  Andrew wondered if it stemmed from issues with his own mother.

Andrew turned his head to the floor as a noise alerted him.  When he saw what was making it, he felt nauseous.  Things were about to get worse.

Frankie looked down at Bex who was stirring on the floor.  He grinned.  “Well, lookey here.  Little miss fine-ass is finally joining us.  Now we can really step things up.  Let’s see how much of a party-girl she is.”

Andrew watched Frankie approach his daughter.  For the first time in his life, he prayed to god. 

Chapter Thirteen

Andrew had never seen a person wake up screaming before, but that’s just what Bex did.  As soon as she regained consciousness, the agony of her broken wrist kicked in.

Frankie marched forward and kicked her in the ribs, knocking loose every last ounce of breath she had in her lungs.  “Keep it the-fuck-down!”

Bex’s screams turned to inward gasping.  The hissing sound she made was like the venting air-brakes of a bus.

“Please,” Andrew pleaded.  “Please, just leave my family alone.  Do what you want to me…”

Frankie winked at Andrew as if they were old buddies.  “I’m going to do that anyway, mate, so what exactly are you trying to negotiate with?”

“For god’s sake, Frankie.  Have some decency.  My family have done nothing to you.”

Frankie strolled over to Andrew and perched himself on the armrest of the chair.  “I say otherwise.  People like you look down their noses at people like me; think you can treat us like dirt.  Doesn’t matter if it’s you or your women, you all think you’re better.”