Page 137 of A Dark Fall

“From Sharon? I fucking told himI’dgive him the money. To make up for the mess I made.”

The night Alex sorted me, I called Freddie in Greece when I got home to apologize for losing my temper. I offered to pay Eddie’s share since he wasn’t in a position to make withdrawals. Freddie told me I wasn’t thinking straight and that he would talk to me when he got back. He never mentioned it again.

“It wasn’t your debt to pay, mate. Fred was never going to go for that,” he explains. “You seriously think he’d let Tony, Eddie, and that psychotic bitch get away with swiping him? Eddie Cartwright deserved what he got.” He sniffs. “You know what Fred said when I told him what happened? Why you went off? He asked why you never finished him. The cunt deserved what he got. He deserved worse than what he got, and there was no way Fred was gonna let you clear his fucking debt for him.” He shakes his head and sits up, looking irritated. Looking at me as if I should know better than to question Freddie’s way of doing things. As if I haven’t lived my whole life by Freddie’s way of doing things.

“So, he condoned what you did? He sent you over there to beat up a woman. Or did you improvise?” I ask.

Freddie has dark parts too. He’s the fucking king of dark parts, but it seems out of character for him to order something like this. It’s beneath him. This has Kevin written all over it.

“A few days after, while you were indisposed, he asked me to go see if I could get anything new out of her—with Eddie out of the way. He thought she might give up something on Tony’s place in Malaga. It got kinda ugly. Course, she would have opened her mouth and her legs a whole lot easier for you, but that is one violent fucking bitch, mate. Think I still have the scratches.” He shudders as though reliving a painful memory.

“Is that ’cause you fucked her when she didn’t want you to? I imagine women tend to scratch when that sort of thing happens.” I scowl.

He looks mildly annoyed now, as though maybe I’ve touched on some nerve he didn’t know he had. “Wasn’t like that at all. We had a few drinks, I said Fred was sorry about what had happened to Eddie but that this still needed sorting. She practically begged me for it, mate,” he says. He doesn’t flinch. He never flinches.

“So’d you break her jaw before or after she begged you for it? Just so I have it straight.”

“Why the fuck are you so bothered about this, Jay? That fucking bitch could have killed you. She stuck a knife in your neck, for fuck’s sake. She’s a fucking lunatic.” He holds his finger to his temple as he jumps to his feet. “She got what she fucking deserved!” He grabs the bottle of Jack, unscrews the cap, and downs a few large gulps before slamming the bottle back down on the desk angrily.

I take a moment before I speak to give him time to calm down. Kevin angry isn’t something I like having to deal with. He’s fucking unmanageable when he’s a ball of pent-up rage. People get hurt when Kevin’s angry. It’s not me I’m worried about though. No—he’d leave here and take it out on some poor, unsuspecting person. Sharon again, maybe.

“So, what—you saying you did this for me, mate? Revenge for what she did. You put her in the hospital out of some sort of twisted loyalty to me?”

He licks his tongue across his mouth and squeezes his nose, snorting loudly to swallow down whatever remnants of shit he shoved up there before he came here. “I’m saying I didn’t do anything she didn’t fucking deserve. The bitch stabbed you.” He reaches out to lift the bottle again, which he carries over to the large window. As he stares out of it, I watch the huge expanse of his back flex as he lifts the bottle to his mouth and drinks. Kevin is a huge guy, bigger than me and terrifying to most people, but there are only two things he’s scared of: Freddie and me.

“You know they think I did it?” I say, and he turns around.

“Who does?” He looks angry again, alert and ready to defend my honor. He’s loyal like that, in his own fucked up way.

“The filth.” I lift my glass to my mouth. “Alex has a friend in the Met. He paid her a visit today. Told her they’ve reason to believe I beat and raped Sharon Cartwright.”

Now, he looks concerned. Guilty even. That’s a fucking first.

“Fuck ...” He exhales. “Shit.”

I chew my lip and nod at him before sitting up to refill my glass. “You fucked up, Kev. You went too far.”

The fourth glass of Jack goes down much easier than any of the others.

“They’ve been watching again too.” I open my top drawer, pull out the file, and slide it across my desk to him. He stops it with his hand before it slides onto the floor.

“Well, we’ll have a word with Sharon, and she can tell them you had fuck all to do with it. But if she’s told them she was raped, she’s a lying fucking bitch, Jay, ’cause that’s not what happened.”

Talkto Sharon? Himtalkingto Sharon is part of the reason Alex can barely fucking look at me.

He lifts the photos and walks back over to the couch. I suppose it’s possible he’s telling the truth about what happened. Would Sharon fuck Kev consensually? Sure, why not. Would Kev beat her up afterward for not giving him what he wanted? Most definitely.

He flicks through the photos absently as he drinks. “Well, it’s not as if it’s a surprise. Fred knows they’re watching him. They’re always fucking watching him. They still haven’t got a fucking thing.” He shrugs.

I laugh and raise my glass. “Well, no. Not on Fred, they haven’t.”

“Or you. They’ve got shit all on you either, mate. Don’t worry about it.” He flicks through a few more of the photos, eyebrows raised. “So, he gave this to her? He showed her photos of Fred and us and told her about you?”

“He gave her the file. She never looked at any of it.”

“Just as well. Don’t imagine your hot little doctor would be too excited to know how you spend your free time,” he snickers.

I feel my fist curl around the glass.She was all right, wasn’t she? Did you see that fucking arse? Wouldn’t mind a go on a bit of posh cunt like that, mate—know what I mean? All things he said about her in the car on the way home the night she fixed me. I wanted to punch him right there and then. But I couldn’t ’cause that would mean it bothered me, and that would mean she was important, and that would mean she wasn’t safe. I still made a silent promise to myself that I’d kill him before I let him touch her.