––––––––

I woke up to a constant banging against my bedroom wall. Reaching for my phone, I squinted to see the time. 8 o’clock in the morning, time to be up anyway. Hopefully the fuckers had left my flat in a semi decent state. Sophie would go nuts if she had to clean up after anyone again, she always hated that shit and was on my case about it constantly.

The banging grabbed my attention again. I got up and shoved a pair of baggy pants on, rubbing down my tattooed chest, looking at myself. Twenty fucking six and you could see every one of those years etched onto my skin. My fingers lingered over my heart where the cursive scrawls of Sophie and Scotty were inked. The space underneath - fanciful thinking.

What the hell was with the banging?

Marching from my room in search of the inconsiderate asshole making a racket, I stopped in the hallway where the noise was the loudest, noting it came from Sophie’s room. She must have come home early from Ayden’s, the cute gay guy she’d stayed with, the one I’d almost molested in the men’s room last night.

Shit, I had molested him. What had I been thinking?

Debating on whether to knock and go in or leave her alone, I stalled. If she’d come home and had some guy in there, I’d likely take a swing at the fucker. She was twenty-one, could do what she liked but if I walked in and saw someone nailing my sister, I’d blow a gasket and hurt someone.

Jail wasn’t on the calendar today, I had to tread carefully.

The banging stopped as I pressed my ear to the door, but the sound of sobbing put me on high alert, the banging starting up again and pushing me past my limits. The knocking picked up tempo, the sobbing, volume.

Nope, Sophie would just have to suck it up. No way was I letting some douche hurt her and make her sound like that.

She had a pitiful lock on her door that gave way with the shoulder barge I gave the wood, and I fell halfway into the room. It wasn’t Sophie - and thank fuck for that because I would have killed the bastard.

Shorty had Chrissie tied to the bed. What looked like her knickers, were stuffed in her mouth. White powder surrounded her nostrils and her eyes were like saucers as tears streamed down the sides of her cheeks. Digesting the sight before me, I watched as Shorty rubbed coke onto her pussy as he fucked her arse. Well, I presumed that was what he was doing. He looked manic, hadn’t even noticed I’d entered the room.

I stood rooted to the spot, still watching as he pulled out and moved to put his face between her legs. When she screamed, I came to my senses and rushed the prick, pushing him off Chrissie. When he grinned at me I felt sick at the sight of his blood-stained teeth.

Punching the fucker without a second thought, down he went, hitting the floor with a thud.

“Boomer!” I shouted, knowing he was somewhere in the flat, never far. “Boomer!”

If a woman, hell - anyone - wasn’t enjoying the sex then it was a no go, you didn’t continue. Shorty clearly had a different opinion, liked to straddle that consensual line. Chrissie wasn’t having any fun at all, what with her cries and her tears and the way she pulled at the ties holding her in place. I know I used her, but she was always willing. This shit was not on.

Fucking bastard. I wanted to deck him again. I shouted out as I snatched for something to cover Chrissie with, pulling the gag from her mouth then untying the sashes around her wrists next.

“Hey.” I couldn’t keep the anger from my voice, even though it wasn’t directed at her.

“I’m sorry. He said she’d be all right if we slept in here.” She knew how Sophie would feel about it. “He’s gone fucking crazy, Shaun.” The use of my first name told me Chrissie was far from okay.

“You want me to go phone your dad? Let him come get you?”

She swiped at her tears, her defences kicking in, the hard bitch she was renowned for being, showing face. “Fuck no. Like he gives a shit. It’s fine, just a bit of rough sex gone a tad too far. I’m all right.”

Boomer rushed into the room, halting when he saw a knocked-out Shorty at the bottom of the bed. “What the fuck?” He looked at Chrissie then back to Shorty. “Son of a bitch!”

“No! We’re good here, Boomer,” Chrissie interjected before climbing shakily from the bed. “Where’s my clothes?”

Both Boomer and I helped her to get dressed, then made her sit at the kitchen table with a hot cup of tea while we went back to sort out Shorty. He was still out cold on Sophie’s bedroom floor, his dick still standing to attention, probably from the Viagra he was a huge fan of. For once, the sight of another man’s dick didn’t excite me. Blood ran down the sides of his face from the busted nose I’d given him and the compulsion to hit him again rolled over me. Boomer shuffled him to his side, so he didn’t choke on his own blood then disappeared. He was far more gracious than I.

Coming back in the room with a bucket, he dumped water over the prick’s head and we watched as he spluttered awake. There was no embarrassment or apology, just confusion as to where he was. When he sat up, I kneeled in front of him and reached between his legs taking a hold of his scrotum. He whimpered but held defiant eye contact when my grip tightened.

“You go near Chrissie again and I cut these off. You hear me?” I squeezed for good effect and saw the tears spring to his eyes, his fuck you attitude fleeing. “If your woman ain’t having a good time, you stop. Again, you hear me?” Another squeeze, much harder, for good measure.

“Yeah, okay. Yeah,” he cried.

“And your blow goes up your nose or on your own genitals, unless asked. Yours, no one else’s. Got me?” I didn’t squeeze this time, figuring he got the message loud and clear when he winced and tears streamed down his face. He muttered an apology which was good enough for me. “Now, you get dressed and put that thing away, then fucking clean my sister’s room before she comes home and tears you a new one.”

I left him under the watchful eye of Boomer and returned to an empty kitchen, stone cold tea, and no Chrissie to be seen. I called Sophie, time she was home. I was in no mood for any bullshit today.

* * *

Half an hour later and Sophie breezed through the door. My mood hadn’t shifted any and I could see her tense when she came face to face with me in the kitchen. She looked a mess, like she’d just crawled out of someone’s bed. I didn’t like it.

“Where’d you stay?”

“I told you.” She grabbed orange juice from the fridge and turned her back on me. “Ayden’s.”

“The guy from Uni?” I knew exactly where she was, who she was with but couldn’t help needling at her because I was in the mood to do so.

“Yup.” She smacked her p as she said it, pissing me off further.

“The gay one?” I didn’t need the clarification, I’d found out myself the night before but I wanted to catch the lie if she was telling me one.

“The very same.”

“How come I’ve not met him, Sophie? What are you hiding, girl?” There had never really been a need to meet him from what she’d said and I’d seen. He appeared to be a decent bloke, and I doubted she knew I’d had my fingers down his pants in the men’s room the night before either. She’d pitch a bloody fit if she did. “I wanna know who you’re hanging around with.”

Sophie whipped around and scowled at me. “Can we just stop with the suffocating bullshit, Shaun? He’s a nice guy, way fucking nicer than you. That’s all you need to know. You don’t need to be meeting him. My friends don’t need to be yours and yours are certainly not going to be mine.”

I thought about what she said, remembering Shorty from earlier. Yeah, she was right about that, my friends were not her worry. Charlie was. The old man had made idle threats a few times recently, I didn’t take too kindly to it, but I listened. He had me on a short leash for good reason. No one touched my beautiful baby sister and Charlie had the resources to make that happen should I step out of line. Now and again the leash was tested, and he would always smile around the idle threat.

“Why were you at the club anyway?”

“Fancied a night out,” I lied.

She laughed at me. “You can’t peddle your shit in there.”

She was only getting half a truth from me. I knew I couldn’t. I went to the club mostly to keep an eye on her, that was true, but I’d also been scoping the place out for Charlie, at his command. He wanted info on the club, so it worked out in my favour. There was a definite personal vendetta going on between him and the owner, of which I’d had a front row seat to when a gun was shoved in my face. Whatever - there was no chance in hell Charlie was getting his coke in there. He was gonna be pissed when I told him that very thing.

“I’ve no intention.” No lie.

Boomer came into the kitchen and Sophie stiffened when he brushed past her to wash his hands at the sink. I watched with casual interest as he took his fill of her, not in a hungry way like some of the others did, but more an inquisitive way. He’d known Sophie since she was a little girl and his crush was as bad now as it was when he used to pull on her pigtails. My sister was gorgeous, all blonde hair and huge eyes that made her look all innocent and shit. It was hard not to look twice at her. Boomer had an air of respect, genuinely cared, but I still didn’t like him ogling her and he knew it. He kept his looks toward her benign for the most part.

“You all right, Fly?”

She refused to look at him, or answer and it got my back up. “Don’t be fucking rude!” I snapped at her.

She huffed and grunted out a ‘fine’ before finishing her juice and placing the glass at the side of the sink, then making a beeline for the door. I moved with her and snatched at her arm, hauling her back to me.

“This gay friend, Ayden,” I accentuated the gay, “best be on the up, Sophie.”

She smirked at me, a look I hated on her and she knew it. “He’s a good guy, Shaun. One of the best I know. Quit being an arsehole.”

I let go of her arm. If she was telling me he was a good guy, then I’d have to take her word for it. Call me curious though, I wanted to meet him properly, take my fill of him and figure out his angle face to face. See if he could be worth the risks I wanted to take.

Sophie returned to the kitchen, her face red and her words angry. “Which one of your dirty fucking friends was in my room?” Boomer ducked his head and I looked away when I uttered Shorty’s name. She reeled back in disgust. “You let that creepy prick stay in my room?”

“Not exactly.”

“Who else?” She marched over to Boomer. “Who else was in my room?” He didn’t hesitate in telling her it was Chrissie and I could have punched the idiot in the head. Instead I got the punch, a swift and brutal thump to my arm.  “Fucking bastard!” There was no love lost between the two girls, never had been. “You let that skanky bitch use my room so she could fuck Shorty in my bed? My bed! Eeeew, Shaun. That’s disgusting. What is wrong with you?”

Not waiting for an answer, she hightailed it from the kitchen, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

“I should string that bloody idiot up by the balls,” I ground out, Boomer agreeing. “I have to go see Charlie. You coming?”

He washed up Sophie’s glass and nodded at me while drying his hands. “Sure. Let’s see how much more trouble you can get into this morning.”

“Fuck off!”

He laughed at me, I sulked at him. Prick.