The Consequence

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Then – February 2008

"Where are the drugs?" He yelled as he held a knife to his throat. Sweat was pouring off the man in droves, his moustache was drenched. I stood to the side, my eyes watching him, refusing to look away.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about!" He replied between shortened breaths.

Did he really think that line would fucking work? Even I wasn't stupid enough to believe the rubbish! I watched as he pressed the knife harder, allowing blood to draw. He screamed in pain but all I did was tentatively look behind me to make sure nobody was there. "Tell me Tim. What have you done with them?"

Phil had him pressed up against a wall of his flower shop. The closed sign had been flipped as we'd made our entrance and we were in the back room where even more flowers were kept, the room was noticeably colder than out there.

"I... I don't know!" He protested further.

Phil shoved him away from the wall and then back against it, his head ricocheting off the brick and bouncing forward. The sound was quite the crack. "I'm not fucking around." He growled. "You were given a pound of cocaine to sell and you've not given me the money I asked for."

Phil grabbed a further knife from the back of his belt and shoved it into his left hand, pinning it against the wooden panel wall. His piercing scream was muffled by his hand covering the guys mouth. Phil was square in his face and was watching his every move. I took another tentative glance to the door to make sure nobody was looking in. They weren't.

The first thing I'd done when I came in was cut the CCTV to prevent anything getting back to us – not that they guy would grass us up. He was selling drugs after all and we had nothing on us, if anybody did come, he'd get the blame. Sure, he could rat Stanley out but that'd just get him killed, Stanley knew people inside of prison as well.

We were both sent in his place, Stanley trusted me a lot now, and I was a part of 'the face' of the organisation. Stanley said I needed to see first hand how he dealt with people who didn't obey him. A small part of me thought that he only did it to show what he was capable of but I got £100.00 for just showing up here, which was great. It was coming up to Mother's Day and I wanted to get my grandma something nice.

"Jamie! Come on..." He begged, turning to me. My eyes widened as he stared at me. His hand was a right mess, the blood was gushing out of the wound and dripping onto some white roses on a table below him. It was quite poetic with them getting stained red – like they were supposed to be. The drips were almost pretty.

I shrugged my shoulders at him. At the end of the day, he was in the wrong and Phil wouldn't have been made to do this if he'd just told us the name in the first place.

"Just give us the name." I eventually spoke.

His dark blue eyes went from mine to Phil's a couple of times in panic. His breathing was incredibly laboured if the staggered way his chest rose and fell went by. The sweat had completely taken over his body and from where I stood, you could just smell the stench.

"I'd advise you listen to the boy." My face scrunched at being called boy but I let it drop, I wasn't to show any sign of weakness in front of the enemy. Stanley would kill me. I turned it to a smirk to show nonchalance, I'd been taught that.

Phil's hand went to his balls and squeezed. I swear the scream was louder than the knife being stabbed into his hand. Instinctively I crossed my legs wincing. That must have fucking hurt!