“Back in a bit, lads.” Billy winked at Jonny, as he strode off with Candice to one of the private booths. Still thinking about how he was going to put Jay in the gutter and how he was going to enjoy every minute of it, he closed the booth door behind him and grinned at Candice. She had a cracking figure and tits to die for: she was the best-looking girl in the club. He thought she had a thing for him, she always made herself available to him if he was around, always went out of her way to please him.

There was no need for small talk. Knowing exactly what Billy liked, Candice dropped to her knees. She had figured Billy out a long time ago; he had a girlfriend that gave him more chat than he could listen to: he liked a bit of light relief now and then. Billy felt himself getting hard as she undid his belt. Taking his cock in her hot, wet mouth, she began teasing him gently, licking slowly and then going deeper and deeper down his shaft. He groped her breasts now, feeling their fullness through the tiny silk bra, she started sucking him harder and faster then, her mouth really wet. He took her long, blonde hair in his hands and pulled hard as he came in her mouth, shuddering intensely. After pulling up his trousers, Billy put some notes on the table. Wiping her mouth, Candice smiled; she knew she was good. Billy normally took ages, tonight she had barely got started, and he had paid her the usual amount too: result.

9

The two men had been sitting in the van for over two hours. It was only a little escort van, no room to swing a cat, especially with two huge men inside it.

              It was a chilly morning; March was normally a bit milder than this. The street was quiet, which was to be expected as it was now almost three am. Just the flickering of a streetlamp and a scrawny white cat walking along the path broke up the darkness of the dull, rundown street.

The people who lived here weren’t exactly house proud, looking around the men could see the front gardens of most looked as if they were being used as dumping grounds. There were overflowing rubbish bags, old rusty bikes, broken flower pots, an old bath leaning up against a fence. It was a dump!

Carl, the larger of the two men, shook his head in wonder. “The people around here may not have a lot of money but it doesn’t cost much to be fucking clean, does it? Lazy fuckers: probably too busy sitting on their arses watching Jeremy Kyle while waiting for their dole checks to clear.”

              He thought of his missus, who always kept their home lovely and clean. She would be there now, in bed. He couldn’t wait to be under the warm duvet and feel her snuggled up next to him, but he had to finish the job first. He looked over to Tommy next to him, who was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Where the fuck is he?” Carl asked.

              Tommy sighed; he was also fed up of waiting around. Just like his mate he wanted to get home to his bed. It had been a long day and he wanted a bit of shut eye.

              “Fuck knows, mate. He may not even go straight home; you know what he’s like.”

              He looked over to the house that they were watching; it was the only one that looked half-decent. It was still rundown, and the garden was full of crap, but it had a big solid door on the front, not a typical white council one like the rest of them, and thick windows, which judging by the gleam had only recently been fitted. The driveway was empty and all the lights were off, just the flicker of an alarm system flashing intermittently. It stood out because of the alarm system, made you wonder what would need protecting in a shithole like this. He obviously had something of some value, Tommy thought. Round here people had no call for security alarms; most would sooner put their last fiver on a few bottles of cheap cider rather than in their gas meters, let alone install an expensive alarm system.

Suddenly, they saw the bright headlights of a car coming towards them; finally, it was him. They watched as the beamer drove right past them and turned slowly onto the driveway. Taking their chance the two men quickly grabbed their bats and made their way over to the car, quietly, undetected like the true pros that they were.

              As the man got out of the car they saw the shock on his face at the sight in front of him, shock mixed with genuine fear. Who wouldn’t be scared? They were both over six feet tall, and armed with baseball bats. The worse thing was he knew them, and knew what they were both capable of.

              Before he could even take in the scene before him, the man found himself lying on the floor, the bats raining blows down on him, over and over again. He didn’t beg or plead, he knew he deserved this, this was his lesson, he was well aware that it would come to this. Feeling blood pour down his face, and the sound of a bone crack above his stomach, he felt an almighty pain wash over him before he passed out.

A light came on in an upstairs window above them, the two men decided to make a fast exit. Jumping into their van they sped off, just in time to avoid the plump lady opening the front door and screaming hysterically at the site of her son’s broken blood-soaked body lying in a heap on the cold floor.  People peered out of windows, having a good look, taking it all in so that they could have their own piece of gossip for the morning.

              Tommy put his foot down; the police would be called, and they needed to get themselves and the van out of sight. Carl made himself useful, picked up his mobile and tapping in a number.

              “It’s done,” he told his boss. “The smarmy little fucker has just considered himself told.”

              “Good,” said Paul. “I’ll see that you both have a little extra in your wages.”

Paul put down the phone. He had left it a few days after he had been told of Jay’s little side-line, and tonight it had been put to bed. It seemed Carl and Tommy had done well. From what he had just been told, Jay wouldn’t be working anywhere, anytime soon. He’d got what he was owed, as far as Paul was concerned. No-one took the piss out of him. Paul had worked too hard, for too long, to risk his club for someone like Jay to ruin it all.

10

Sonia was sitting in a dull-grey cubical, at her son’s bedside. They had been at the hospital for over twelve hours and although the doctors had told her that he was not critical, she felt heart-broken. Following a thorough examination and numerous x-rays, they had given him some high dose painkillers and something to help him sleep. Several of his ribs were broken, along with his nose; although looking at all the congealed blood and cuts and bruises all over him, it had looked much worse on first glance.

              Sonia looked down at Jay’s swollen face and wondered how it had come to this. Sonia knew that he was no angel, far from it. In fact, she knew a lot more than she would ever let on even to him, or anyone else for that matter. Even so she couldn’t help feeling guilty; maybe that was why she always made excuses, always trying to justify his behaviour. She should never have left him with Den, she should have taken him with her, brought him up properly. This was her fault.