Breaking Point (The Point Series: Book 2) (10 page)

"Deal?"

One-Ear pushed out his lower lip. His dark, predatory eyes twinkled. "Give me the knife. I want to do it."

"Brian, don't you dare give him that knife."

"Give me the knife."

"How do I know you won't stab me?"

"Give it to me." One-Ear moved closer, his right hand extended. "Before I change my mind."

Brian nodded and lowered the knife. One-Ear took another cautious step towards him. Brian filled his pain-restricted lungs. Then he darted forward and stabbed the psycho in the chest. He felt the blade sink through clothes and flesh, scrape bone and get jammed. His stomach lurched. He tried to pull the knife back to stab One-Ear again. The bloody handle slipped from his grasp.

One-Ear looked down at the injury, his hands opened at either side of the handle but not touching it. Bewilderment widened his eyes. Blood spattered the lino. He lurched forward, reached for Brian. Brian sidestepped and launched one last punch at the stalker's ruined ear. One-Ear toppled and his head cracked off the floor. Brian ran to the sink and puked his guts out.

––––––––

B
rian sipped on a glass of water. Rachel stood by his side and they looked down on One-Ear.

"His name was Owen Donnelly," Rachel said.

"I can't believe I killed somebody."

"It was him or us."

"Still can't believe it."

Rachel reached for Brian's hand and interlinked her fingers with his.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too." He looked at her face and then her stomach. "Are you really pregnant?"

She nodded, her eyes swimming.

"Fucking hell. We'd need to get our lives sorted before the baby comes along. Can't live like this anymore."

"Just lay off the drugs and murder," Rachel said. "We'll be fine."

Brian almost smiled.

Then Owen Donnelly gasped for air.

"Shite," Brian said. "The psycho bastard's still alive. What do we do?"

"Finish him."

"I don't think I can. Not like this."

"It'd be a mercy to him. The man's broken, Brian."

"No. It's not right."

"So, what? Let him heal up? Wait for him to come looking for us again? Maybe after the baby's born? You're the man of this family now, Brian. The protector. That comes with heavy responsibility."

She was putting pressure on him. But was it unfair? Granted, most men would never have to face a situation like his. Murder wasn't a rite of passage for every father-to-be. But it seemed right that this should fall to him. And maybe it would strengthen his connection with Rachel. They'd both be killers, both know the profundity of extinguishing a life.

Brian knelt by Owen's body and gently pressed two fingers to the side of his neck. There was a pulse, faint and irregular. He reached for the knife, still protruding from the psycho's chest, and tried to pull it free. Pain flared in Brian's flank. His ribs were cracked or badly bruised. He gritted his teeth and pulled again, braced for the sharp agony in his side. The knife was stuck.

"I can't get it, Rachel."

"Yes you can."

Brian sighed and forced himself to stand. Then he planted a foot on Owen's shoulder and bent at the waist. Owen's eyelids fluttered but didn't open fully. Brian grabbed the knife in two hands and hauled it upwards. It came free. A spray of blood chased the blade. Owen jerked on the floor. Brian considered his options. Stab him again or slash his throat. Both thoughts made him want to puke the little amount of water he'd managed to drink.

Then he noticed the blood pumping from the unblocked wound. Maybe he'd done enough already. He staggered backwards and stopped when Rachel snaked an arm around his waist. She wiped the skin under his eyes and he realised he'd been weeping. Spasms jolted Owen's body for a few seconds and then he was still, a whistling breath punctuated his life.

"I think he's dead," Rachel said.

"Oh, thank God."

"Not sure how much God had to do with this whole mess."

"What now?"

"We should probably call the cops; tell them we were attacked and that this was self-defence."

Brian sighed. "Maybe that's for the best."

"Except, this will be the second time we pleaded self-defence."

"But it really was."

"Sounds a bit sketchy, though. And when they look into you and your association with drug dealers..."

"I only know
one
drug dealer."

"Still. It looks bad."

"So we run?"

"Who's going to miss us?"

Brian wished he had a convincing answer for that question. He gave Rachel a peck on the cheek.

"Let's go, then," he said.

"It'll all be okay."

"Yeah, of course it will. It has to be." Brian reached out and stroked Rachel's belly. "Do me a favour, will you?"

"Anything, babe."

"Remind me to phone in an anonymous tip-off about the girl in the Toyota."

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T
ony sensed a presence at the side of his bed. He opened his eyes, half-convinced that he was welcoming in a fresh nightmare. Yellow-belly Brian looked down at him. The bastard who'd denied him twice.

"You here to stab me in the back again?" Tony asked.

Brian blushed. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Is that it?"

"Really sorry."

Tony sighed. "It's done. The doctors say I'm doing well. For somebody that got thrown out of a window, like."

"Will you be able to teach kung fu again?"

"Maybe. If I want to."

Brian bobbed his head and looked around the ward. His nose was wrinkled like he could smell something disagreeable. And he probably could. Tony might have stopped noticing it, but he wouldn't be surprised to know that Daisy Hill Hospital was a bit whiffy. It was that kind of place.

"Is there anything else?" Tony asked. He wanted to go back to sleep. They'd reduced his painkillers. A bit of shut-eye was his only escape.

"Yeah, I wanted to give you this."

Brian handed him an envelope, too thick to be a Get Well Soon card. Tony flipped open the unsealed flap. Cash and weed. Not much of either, but a hell of a lot more than he currently had.

"I figured that would come in useful."

"You bought me grass?"

"It's Blueberry Cheesecake. And I didn't buy it. It's the stuff you gave me. I'll not be needing it. Thought you might."

Already he was trying to figure out where he could go to smoke a joint without being caught.

"And the money?" Tony asked.

"It's not much, but maybe it'll help." Brian indicated Tony's casts and bandages with a sweeping gesture. "I figure you must owe somebody something."

Tony wasn't really sure if he did or didn't owe Malachy money. He'd been hoping that the over-the-top punishment would have wiped the slate clean. Either way, he didn't refuse the hand-out.

Brian rubbed the top of his stubbly head and sighed. "I have to go now, man. Rachel's waiting for me. We've a bus and a plane to catch."

"Well for some."

Brian shrugged. "It's all relative."

Tony watched Brian leave the ward, his head bowed and shoulders slumped. He was glad to see him go. It wasn't that Brian was a bad guy. Apart from a lack of loyalty, he seemed like a decent sort. Tony sniffed the envelope and smiled.

Decent enough, but awful bad luck to be around.

###

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novels

Wee Rockets

Fireproof

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novellas

Wee Danny

The Point

Breaking Point

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short story collections

Possession, Obsession And A Decompression Engine

Other Stories And Nothing But Time

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