“Business,” said Damien. “I don’t fuck up families. Did this guy even do anything to you in the first place?”
“No,” said Davie. “He never done nothing to nobody.”
Frankie turned to Davie and growled. “Will you shut the hell up!”
“Sounds like your little bro has a conscience,” said Damien. “Good for him. You should both get the fuck out of my house now, though.”
Frankie stood up. “What? Why you being like this?”
“Cus you’re a fucking mug; an amateur. Now piss off – and leave the pieces behind.”
Frankie pulled the revolver on Damien and cocked the hammer. Davie wondered how his brother even knew how to do that. Damien’s face was unflinching, while Frankie’s twitch had gone into overdrive.
Damien curled his upper lip into a smirk. “I hope this dude fucks you up. Makes you a little bitch again like you were in the nick when I found you. How long’s it been since you had a cock up your arse, Frankie?”
Frankie stepped forward and shoved the weapon’s barrel against Damien’s forehead. His whole arm was shaking but Damien was still unflinching. Frankie was visibly shaken. “Not another word, cunt, or I’ll end you, right now.”
Davie sprung up and moved in front of his brother, trying to attract the attention of his demented eyes. “What’s he talking about, man?”
Damien sneered, despite the gun in his face, and directed his gaze to Davie. “He never tell you?
“Tell me what?” asked Davie.
“When I went down for a little stretch – for dealing and shit – they sent me to the same nick as Frankie.”
Frankie thrust the revolver forward, shoving the muzzle right up against Damien’s forehead. “Not another word! I’m warning you.”
Damien continued anyway and Davie dreaded what he was about to hear. “Your big tough bro here was the prison bitch for a whole year. Fell in bad with the top dogs when he arrived – mouthing off and acting like a gangster before he even knew the score. Spent the next year getting it up the shitter by half the guys on G Wing.”
“Bullshit,” said Davie. “You’re talking bollocks.”
Damien winked at Davie. “God’s honest truth, little man. When I arrived my dad’s rep was enough for me to be one of the top dogs straight away and I put a stop to all that stuff – shit-stabbin’ ain’t my thing, you get me? Your brother was so grateful that he offered to do anything in return. Just so happened that I needed some help shifting gear when I got out. The rest is history.”
“Is this all true?” Davie asked his brother. It seemed like he was going to go off like a firework; veins were bulging through the hot redness of his skin.
Frankie sniffed back a nose full of snot. “Guy’s full of it. He did me a few solids during our time together, that much is true. In fact the only reason he ain’t dead right now is because I owe him.”
“Owe me big time,” Damien added. “Big time.”
Frankie nodded. “Lucky for you, I honour my debts – but consider us even.”
Damien smiled behind the gun barrel. “Fair enough; guess I can let this slide. Say goodbye to your supply, though.”
“Whatever,” said Frankie. “Come on Davie. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Still pointing the revolver at Damien’s face, Frankie backed out of the room. Davie followed after him, shell-shocked by what he’d just heard. There was every chance that Damien was just making shit up to mess with Frankie – Davie prayed that was the case. But if it was true…
Then my brother is messed up for good reason.
“Hey, Davie,” said Damien. “Don’t end up like your brother, okay?”
Davie said nothing. He left the room after Frankie and together they navigated the house’s long hallway towards the front door. Frankie turned the Yale lock and pulled down the handle. The door opened silently and the cold air of the afternoon hit Davie in the face like a punch, making his teeth ache.
“Getting cold,” he said, rubbing at his shoulders.