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Everything hurt. Everything. Alex woke to find that he was in agony.
Except for that one little patch on his back that had somehow avoided
the pain. He focused on that, tried to use it to fool his body into
thinking he was OK. Once the initial shock of the pain had subsided,
Alex prised his eye open. Far too much daylight in the room. This
wasn’t his flat, clearly - he had blackouts up until about twelve. He
was on a sofa, sleeping under his leather jacket. Who’s sofa though?
“I see you’re waking up. Want a cuppa?”
“Unless it’s got morphine in it, no th- fuck it, yes please.” Alex sat
up with difficulty, swinging his legs round and planting them on the
floor. He slipped on his leather jacket and yawned.
“Moss, what did you do to me last night?”
“Funny.” Spoons clattered in the kitchen.
“Seriously though, what happened? You called me to come with you on a
story... it was in the tenements... and we ran into Marco, and fuck.”
“‘Fuck I just remembered’ or ‘Fuck my booze-addled mind can’t remember
anything else’?” Harry prompted, handing him a mug.
“Nope, nothing. And I’m not booze-addled.”
“We ran into Marco’s boss. And then one of Marco’s boss’ rivals showed
up. Stuff heated up. You tried to defuse things. You kind of did -
they stopped fighting each other for a while, at least.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you at home alone.”
“Fair enough. Well, thanks for looking after me.” Alex paused. “Fuck,
it’s just come back to me. Did I really appeal to their ‘sense of
brotherhood’?”
“‘Fraid so.”
***
Alex had never really counted on having to go into hiding. The City
was smaller than you thought, and everyone seemed to recognise him.
But when he jumped out into the road, heart pounding, narrowly
avoiding a car-induced death, all to avoid the shadow of an alley-cat,
he knew the drug bosses had won. They had got into his head.
Except for that one little patch on his back that had somehow avoided
the pain. He focused on that, tried to use it to fool his body into
thinking he was OK. Once the initial shock of the pain had subsided,
Alex prised his eye open. Far too much daylight in the room. This
wasn’t his flat, clearly - he had blackouts up until about twelve. He
was on a sofa, sleeping under his leather jacket. Who’s sofa though?
“I see you’re waking up. Want a cuppa?”
“Unless it’s got morphine in it, no th- fuck it, yes please.” Alex sat
up with difficulty, swinging his legs round and planting them on the
floor. He slipped on his leather jacket and yawned.
“Moss, what did you do to me last night?”
“Funny.” Spoons clattered in the kitchen.
“Seriously though, what happened? You called me to come with you on a
story... it was in the tenements... and we ran into Marco, and fuck.”
“‘Fuck I just remembered’ or ‘Fuck my booze-addled mind can’t remember
anything else’?” Harry prompted, handing him a mug.
“Nope, nothing. And I’m not booze-addled.”
“We ran into Marco’s boss. And then one of Marco’s boss’ rivals showed
up. Stuff heated up. You tried to defuse things. You kind of did -
they stopped fighting each other for a while, at least.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you at home alone.”
“Fair enough. Well, thanks for looking after me.” Alex paused. “Fuck,
it’s just come back to me. Did I really appeal to their ‘sense of
brotherhood’?”
“‘Fraid so.”
***
Alex had never really counted on having to go into hiding. The City
was smaller than you thought, and everyone seemed to recognise him.
But when he jumped out into the road, heart pounding, narrowly
avoiding a car-induced death, all to avoid the shadow of an alley-cat,
he knew the drug bosses had won. They had got into his head.
