AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jizzy thought he was coming to explain himself. He would think he was protected, purely by association with his brother. Unfortunately, he was about to learn how tenuous familial ties could be.
They were meeting at a bar. The public place was another layer of false security for Jizzy. Of course, the bar was owned by an associate of The Devils. Alex thought Jizzy was doing a reasonable job of looking relaxed; hands stuffed into the pockets of his long, beige cargo shorts, probably to hide the nerves. He wore a white singlet top. Unlike most guys in this line of work, his arms were not adorned with tattoos. Jizzy’s head was shaved, however the dim bar lighting highlighted the shadow of a receding hairline. He stood a foot shorter than Alex. White Converse sneakers finished off the ensemble. His anxiety clearly spiked when he caught sight of them. Everyone knew, when Hollywood showed up to these meetings, someone usually died.
Reading his mind, Alex raised his hands in reassurance. ‘Just here to talk, man.’
‘Sure, Hollywood,’ Jizzy nodded. ‘Jesse.’
‘Long time, no see.’ Jesse folded his arms, playing bad cop.
‘Yeah, you know what it’s like. Busy time of year, man. Hard to pin people down and get answers.’
‘Speaking of answers, we need some. Let’s talk out the back,’ Alex continued to play good cop. ‘Jesse, you stay here. Keep an eye on things.’
Jizzy threw a glance at Jesse over his shoulder before heading in the direction Alex indicated. He had no idea that out the back, a tarp was already laid across the concrete floor. A three-quarters full skip bin stood next to the tarp, lid open. It was scheduled to be emptied in approximately twenty minutes.
Alex nodded to the heavy-set man with thin graying hair at the end of the bar as they passed. No one would disturb them.
He reached under his cut and retrieved the knife from a custom pocket he’d had sewn into the side. The leather was thick and hard, he’d have to be really unlucky for the blade to penetrate. He always favored a smaller knife. Easier to handle. Small, quick jabs finished the job so much quicker than trying to force a butcher's knife into skin and bone. The gun was only for backup.
His breathing stayed the same. His heart rate didn’t quicken. As usual, Alex felt nothing. He didn’t expect there’d be an opportunity for any desperate pleas for mercy. The tight timeframe meant he would wrap the body in the tarp and throw it into the skip himself. Then he’d push the skip over to the roller door, open it and make sure the bin was emptied as scheduled. It was on wheels, so little effort would be required.
They passed through the first door separating the bar from the storage area. A second door led to the garage. Alex moved in closer as Jizzy opened the door, only Alex’s line about wanting to talk hadn’t fooled him. He slammed the door behind him, pushing Alex off-balance for a second. The knife sliced against Jizzy’s forearm instead of plunging between his ribs. It gave Jizzy long enough to spin around, one hand raised while the other grasped his injured arm.
‘It’s not what you think, Hollywood. I swear, I’m no dog. Just listen to me. Please!’ His urgent words matched the look in his eyes.
Annoyance bristled momentarily. Alex slipped the knife back into its pocket and reached around, withdrawing his gun from the small of his back. Plan B.
‘I’m trying to get out, man. I’ve got it all figured out. I’m leaving the country, leaving the business. I’m done.’ He continued to back away.
‘My girlfriend, she’s pregnant. We just want to have our baby and live our lives. Free and clear.’
Alex raised the pistol. The safety on this gun meant you had to aim a little higher in order to hit the target exactly where you wanted to.
‘I thought you of all people would understand, Hollywood. Are you telling me you wouldn’t give it all up for your girl?’
His heart skipped a beat. He had to force himself to inhale. Then exhale. ‘What did you say?’
‘Your girl, the blonde.’ Jizzy grabbed the lifeline with both hands. ‘My Alison, she’s like your girl. Not from this world. She deserves a good life, not one looking over her shoulder. I want to give her that, give our baby that. You’d do the same, wouldn’t you?’
Alex could barely hear him over the roar of fear and anger that raged in his head. How did he know? And who else knew about Sarah?
‘Just hear me out, Hollywood. I can make this work for both of us.’
He still held the gun in front of him; his aim had dropped a little.
‘We’ll make it look like you did the job. No one needs to know; I swear to God. It’s better if they think I’m dead.’ Jizzy stepped forward, eyes pleading. ‘Please, Alex.’
The gun, still in his hand, fell to his side.
Jizzy looked around, spying a rag on some boxes he retrieved and wrapped it around the wound on his arm.
Alex tried to calm his mind. This was surreal. Sarah had just asked him to go to London with her. He’d let himself dream a little. Imagined waking up with her every day, knowing no one would come looking for him. He wouldn’t have to hide her. Then Zep phoned. And now he was standing here, letting a man who should be dead tell him he was going to run away with his girlfriend and live a free life. Alex’s daydream could be Jizzy’s reality.
‘How?’
Jizzy had been watching him, giving him a minute to think before launching a new appeal for clemency. Confusion wrinkled the fear from his face a little.
Alex looked up. ‘You said you had it figured out, leaving the country, getting out of the business. How?’
