“Well, look at what the cat dragged in. Lads, I’ve told you about mycriminalson, haven’t I?” He holds his arm out,introducing me to his fellow wasters as he laughs at his own joke. “So, they finally let you out.”
“No thanks to you.”
“Well, it was for your own good. You were clearly out of control.” He takes a sip of his pint.
I tilt my head to the right. “You probably want to have this conversation in private, unless you want to show your friends just how much of a piece of shit you really are.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide. You carry on son.”
“I’ve seen Maria.”
His eyes whip to mine, and he downs the rest of his pint, wipes his mouth and stands. “I’ll be back in a minute boys. Lead the way,son.”
We find a quiet table in the corner.
The smell of stale alcohol from both the pub and James is overwhelming, along with the weird decoration and stifling heat from the crackling fire five metres away.
“How is she? Maria?” He asks as he takes a step.
I fold my arms, leaning back in the chair and take him in. He’s aged.
“You almost sounded like you cared there. We both know that’s the biggest lie that’s ever come out of that trap of yours.”
“I always cared.” He says.
“And beating us all black and blue was your way of what? showing us how much you cared!” I snort at the ridiculousness of it.
“Fuck off.” Eyes blazing.
“There it is, the temper. I must say I’ve never been prouder of her for finally standing up to you and throwing your arse out.”
“Says the criminal.”
“Careful.” I warn. “I’m not the small teenager anymore,Dad. My right hook is probably better than yours now. Want to test itout?” My eyes widen as he cowers in his chair. “Not so much of a big man now that I’m bigger than you, are you?”
“What do you want?”
“I want to know where she is. I want to know what you did that made her run?”
“I didn’t do anything. She left when you didn’t come back. She left when she realised you’d gone and run away after you took that sweet little cunt of hers.”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
There he is.
The fucking animal.
I launch across the table, my fist clenching around his check shirt and pull him to his feet before I pull my arm back and release a blow straight to his nose.
It splits, blood spilling along with his profanities.
“Me and you.” He goads. “We’re the same. Cut from the same cloth.” He grins, his teeth covered in blood, as he spits a mouthful of it onto the table.
“I’m nothing like you.” I grate; teeth clenched.
“Yeah? Why don’t you hit me again? I know you want to. You’ve got that wild glint in your eye. Your chest is heaving, jaw clenched. Admit it, admit you want to hit me.”
A man appears to our right and I briefly catch his eye where looks on concerned, hesitant. “Hey, James, you good man?” He asks.
