Me: What the fuck is the point of you, if you can’t do that yourself? And FYI the police beat us to it. I thought you were ahead of the game.
My phone rang.
“If you have a problem with my fucking skills, tell it to the Bennetts.” He snapped, the second I answered it.
“All I’m saying is, they said you could handle that. Why is it now down to me?”
He snorted. “Because some things just aren’t fucking possible except in movies. The other option would be to clone it, but you’d need access to the phone to make that happen too. So, honestly, just snatch it, and wipe the damn photo.”
“You’re as much of a prick as them.”
“Yeah, and you aren’t going to last long, if you alienate every last one of us. Get your head out of your ass, Adam.”
I ended the call. “Prick.”
Julie stared at me, as she turned the engine off.
“You have a strange way of talking to your friends.”
I shrugged, then groaned, becausefuck me that hurt.
“Some of them deserve it, little angel. I’d never talk to you that way, because you’re way too precious. They’re all assholes.”
“Was it the guy who hit you?”
“No.”
She locked the car, and dropped my keys into her handbag.
“The one who kicked you?”
“No.”
She stopped me walking, her hand on my chest.
“So this is someone else who might want to beat you up?”
I laughed, grabbing her hand, and kissing her fingers.
“He wishes he was man enough. Honestly, don’t worry. We were just shooting the breeze… in a fairly aggressive, and hateful way.”
When we reached the door, we both took a breath of the bitingly cold air. This was going to be so unpleasant.
We found Jeff in the bar, with an empty glass in front of him, and a glassy stare.
“I’m so sorry, Jeff!” Julie did the girl thing, and wrapped her arms around him, while I stood aside, and fought the burning urge to tear her away from him. His son had been a monster. What if the apple didn’t fall too far from the fucking rotten tree…
“I can’t believe it… I… I thought he’d show up… I still feel like he could…” He was babbling breathlessly.
I made my way to the empty bar, and placed an order, and managed to sweet-talk the bored bartender into bringing the drinks over, because, as I demonstrated, I couldn’t lift the fucking tray. I hated being this weak and pathetic. Fucking Seb fucking Bennett.
When I made it back to the table, followed by the dutiful bartender, who kindly dished the drinks out, I tried to slide into the booth, but quickly realised it wasn’t going to happen. The bartender, who looked like a virile kind of man, who probably never suffered such inconveniences as injuries, brought me a tall stool to sit on.
“Thanks, mate.”
Jeff was staring dully at the table, and Julie, at my firm encouragement, was sitting in the opposite side of the booth. It helped to get my mind back on track, rather than wanting to kill the guy for being too close to her. I’ve been fucking corrupted by those bastards.
“I’m really sorry that we didn’t find him safe and well, Jeff. Honestly, this isn’t what any of us wanted.” Like hell. The bastard was dead, as he fucking should be.