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As I reach the last one on the right, I hear voices from round the corner. Taking a peek round the edge of the building I see three men outside smoking and chatting, and lo and behold one of them just so happens to be Tommy Evans.
I stay out of sight and listen to them talking shit about girls and guns, how fucking cliché. I begin to zone out on their drivel when one of them mentions a name that has my ears perking up.
“Word on the street is Rogers is close to getting the bitch he’s been after. Took something that belongs to the Lawlers as leverage. Seems payday is fucking coming soon, huh, Tommy?”
I hear skin meeting skin, like a slap to the head, then Tommy says, “You don’t know shit.”
“It’s true, Tommy. I heard Bonner on the phone.” This must be the second guy because his voice is gruffer than the first one.
“And I’m telling you that unless they have the Whitmore bitch, the Lawlers won’t fold so fucking easy.”
“Yeah, well I heard there’s a sister. I wonder if she likes two dicks like her big sister does.” He laughs, and Tommy and the other guy soon follow suit. I hold back the snarl that tries to rumble up through me and the burning desire to step round the corner and beat the shit out of them all, but I just think about how much I’ll enjoy hurting Tommy when I get my chance.
A phone rings and one of the guys answers it, having a short conversation of nothing more than “yes” and “be there soon” before the two of them leave, calling out a bye to Tommy.
I watch as the two guys walk off toward a car and Tommy flicks his fag butt away before heading back inside. As soon as the door is shut, I jog back to the rear of the warehouse where there are some crates stacked. Though a little wobbly, they hold me up as I climb high enough to get a look through one of the dozen windows.
Sticking my face to the glass, I scrunch my eyes as I try to see inside, but it’s too bright. Bringing up my hands to block the light and once my eyes adjust, I can just make out Tommy as he drops down onto a sofa. He appears to be alone, except for a small number of crates, similar to the stack I’m perched on, lining the far wall.
The corner with the sofa and an armchair is set up like a makeshift lounge with a small TV and coffee table. There’s even what appears to be a small countertop, a couple of cupboards and a fridge. It reminds me of the warehouse me and the guys used to hang out in. The memory isn’t a welcome one and I shove it away forcefully.
After watching for a few more minutes and listening intently for any other voices, I’m sure he’s alone. I’ve no idea where the rest of the Acers are, but my guess is that Tommy won’t be alone for long, so if I’m going to make a move it needs to be now.
I slowly begin to climb back down, jumping from the last couple of crates. I pull a bobby pin from my hair and head to the back door. There’s no way I can go in through the front without giving myself away.
Zak taught me how to pick locks when I was 14 after I got caught stealing food from the local shop. I smile as I slide the pin in the keyhole and start gently nudging it until I hear the unmistakable click of the lock releasing.
Shoving the pin back in my hair, I pick up my bat, which was resting between my legs, and slowly pull the handle. My heart pounds inside my chest as I wait to hear a creak or the sound of metal on metal, but it’s silent.
Once it’s open far enough, I slip inside, closing it gently behind me and plunging the momentarily lit corridor into darkness again. With soft footsteps, I creep along the wall to the light at the end where it opens up into the main room.
I hear Tommy talking and for a moment I think I was wrong about him being alone, but then he stops, and I wait for whoever he’s talking with to respond. When I don’t hear anything, I guess he must be on the phone or talking to himself.
Hearing nothing further and ignoring the vibrating of my phone in my pocket, I keep Tommy in my sights as I step out of the corridor into the main area. He has his back to me on the sofa, head just visible over the top of it. Raising the bat in the air, I close the distance and then in one swoop bring the bat down beside his head, missing him by mere inches.
His scream rebounds off the walls and rumbles around the huge void as his arse lifts in the air and he lands in a heap on the floor in front of the sofa.
Laughter bubbles up, and I’m unable to prevent it from slipping out at the look on his face. “What’s the matter, Tommy? You don’t seem pleased to see the ‘Whitmore bitch’”.
“What the fu—”
“Now, now, Tommy,” I say, rounding the sofa and pointing the bat at him as he tries to scurry backwards away from me and get to his feet. “I just want to talk.”
He holds his hands out in front of him as I twirl the bat round in my hand. “I don’t know nothing.”
I hum at his statement. “That’s a double negative, Tommy, and it tells me you know something.”
“I know you broke my fucking nose that night you took Axel’s little whore of a girlfriend.” His voice can’t hide his anger at that fact, but he keeps walking backward, and I keep up with him stride for stride until his back meets the countertop in the corner. His bravado slips a little at the realisation that he’s got nowhere else to go.
“If you don’t give me the answers I want, I’m going to break a whole lot fucking more than your nose.” And to prove I’m not messing around, I ram the end of the bat into his chest forcing him to bend backwards over the counter until he cries out.
“Stop, for fuck’s sake. What do you want to know?”
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, let me see, what do I want to know?” I roll the bat along his collarbone from one side all the way to the other and back again. His eyes watch my every move as sweat begins to form on his brow. “Let’s start with an easy one shall we. Why were you at Eva’s house?”
“Rogers asked me to watch her. He was hoping that Axel would turn up.”
“He knows who she is?”
