The boy shook his head. There was horror in his eyes at the sight of Frankie. “You forced your way into my home. What did you expect me to do?”
Frankie perched himself on the edge of the bathtub and looked down at the boy. “Me and my mates were just looking to party. We could have all been friends, but you had to be a selfish prick and keep all the fun to yourself.”
“You’re a monster,” said the boy. “You won’t get away with this.”
“We should go,” Davie told his brother. “Last thing we need is any more trouble. You only just got out.”
Frankie put a hand on Davie’s shoulder. There was a strong smell coming off of him – like vinegar or something. “You worry too much, little bro.”
“And you worry too little.”
“Okay, okay,” said Frankie, raising his hands up in front of his face and adjusting his beanie hat. “Just let me take a piss first.”
Davie nodded and stepped away from the toilet. Frankie stood in front of it and undid the buttons on his flies, popping them free one after the other. Davie turned around to give him some privacy, but quickly turned back when he heard screams from the bathtub.
Frankie had moved away from the toilet and was now urinating all over the cable-tied boy, causing him to struggle and choke as the golden stream covered his face and mouth.
Davie stood in the doorway, stunned. “Shit, Frankie. That’s not cool.”
Frankie laughed heartily. “Hey, when a man’s got to go, a man’s got to go.”
“Just stop it. He’s already going to call the pigs, so stop making things worse.”
Frankie finished pissing and turned to face his brother. “You’re right, Davie. You’re always right. I should probably help the poor guy get cleaned up. Make things better for myself.”
Davie was suspicious. Frankie wasn’t prone to sudden bouts of compassion. At least not since he got out of prison.
Frankie winked at Davie and turned back around. He reached up for the chrome shower taps set into the tiled wall above the bathtub then gave one of the knobs a hearty twist. Water cascaded from the shower head, soaking the boy held captive below.
Davie watched the boy squirm, a little at first, but then more urgently. Eventually the squirms turned to full-blown thrashing and Davie realised why.
Frankie had turned on the hot tap.
As the water heated up, the boy began to wail. His face turned red as the cable-ties held him, powerless, beneath the scolding stream. Davie moved forward to help, but Frankie shouldered him out of the room, pulling the door closed behind them as they stood on the landing.
“Leave it,” said Frankie. “Quit acting like a *.”
Davie sighed. “You just got out of the nick. You’ll end up straight back there if you keep pulling this bullshit all the time. First you rob that guy’s trainers last night and now you’re burning people’s faces. It’s fucked up.”
Frankie shot out his arm, shoving his smaller brother up against the wall. “I’ll decide what’s fucked up. Who feeds you, Davie? That’s right, I fuckin’ do. If you have a problem with how I roll, then you can just piss off. I’ve looked after you long enough to deserve a little respect.”
Frankie stormed off down the corridor and headed downstairs. Davie listened to the boy in the bathtub, still screaming, and stepped inside to help him. Frankie was his brother and Davie loved him.
But this shit is getting out of hand.
Davie turned off the hot tap and looked down at the quivering boy in the bathtub. His face would never be the same again. Davie wondered how many more people would be damaged before his brother was through.
***
Davie caught up with Frankie outside. He was with the twins, Dom and Jordan, and the three of them were sat waiting for Davie on a small, brick wall outside the house.
“About fuckin’ time,” said Frankie. “What were you doing in there?”
Davie shrugged. “Not in a rush are you?”