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Guess Luca should consider himself lucky. In the grand scheme of things, he’s far from the person I hate the most.
“Mr McConnolly’s running out of patience, Willy. Me? I’ve been all out of it for a long fucking time. I’m just dying for the day he gives me carte blanche to fuck you up.”
He pronounces itkart-blank. I suppress a shudder. To be threatened by someone is one thing—to be threatened by someone with two brain cells battling for third place is an indignity I can barely tolerate.
“The bar barely pays me enough,” I whimper. It’s not a lie. Even well-paid bar work is still only bar work, and London is famously contemptuous of the working class that upholds it. “I’m doing the best I can, I s-swear, I swear, but—”
Simon slaps me hard across the face. It’s the first time he’s ever laid hands on me. Even the two flabby morons flanking him are surprised. Their mouths hang open.
I keep my eyes fixed to the ground. My cheek smarts. I can already tell it’s going to bruise. I don’t say anything. Something hard and dark forms in my gut. A promise.
No, not a promise. Anoath.
Simon grabs me by my collar, dragging me to him. He speaks right up against my face, showering me with spittle that reeks of soured beer.
“Listen, you stupid fucking bitch. It’s been almost a year since your mum died. She was a stupid fucking bitch too, so I’m not blaming you, I’m not. But debt doesn’t just disappear, and your mum knew what she was doing when she agreed that her debts would pass on to you. So you’re going to pay Mr Connolly back every last penny you owe him. I don’t give a fuck how you get the money. Borrow it, steal it, suck dicks if that’s what it takes. But you’re going to get that money by January. That’s generous, that’s plenty of time. And if you don’t, I’ll break both your legs. If you bring half, I’ll break only one leg. See? I’m not a bad guy, am I?” He lets go of me and taps my bruised cheek. “Must have a soft spot for you because you’re such a pretty girl.”
With a greasy laugh, he shoves me off him. I stumble back and drop to my knees on the cold concrete, waiting.
“Come on, lads. It’s fucking freezing. See you in the new year, Willy.”
I watch him walk away, my body absorbing the cold of the concrete and sending it straight to my chest, where my heart is no more than a fist of ice.
Simon Doughtry is right. Hewillsee me in the new year.
But he won’t like it.
Later, I add anew entry to my list.
WILLOW’S REVENGE LIST
RT
for everything you did. I will destroy you.
EF, CB, HR
for being complicit by inaction
GM
for making Mum cry
CL and CL
for dealing the first blow
IAS, JSJ, KE, DP, TW
for making St Agatha a hell
SD
for putting your hands on me
7
Misunderstood Bitch
