Page 86 of Dublin Ink

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How long had he known I was there? Had I made a sound on the stairs? Did he catch sight of me in his rear-view mirror? Was it outside the house where he first noticed me, waiting? Or had he simply always known that I would eventually be there? Was this simply inevitable? He and I? Fist against fist. Hate against hate. Blood against blood.

I stepped out from the shadows. Nick extended the bottle of whiskey toward me, but I kicked it roughly from his hand. It shattered on the concrete floor just out of the range of the flickering lamp. Black eyes flashed up at me. A familiar grin, beaming.

“I thought we could keep the mess to the blanket, Conor,” he said with obvious enjoyment. “You see, I’m really hoping to get my security deposit back and all.”

My fist was raised and it was colliding with his cheek before I knew what I was doing. Nick laughed as he rolled on the tattered blanket, clutching at his most likely cracked eye socket.

“I have missed our deep, intellectually stimulating conversations, my friend.” He peered up at me with one eye, crinkled at the edge with amusement.

My boot made contact with his ribs. He groaned as he curled up in on himself. I stared down at him in a wild fury that only grew worse as he began to shake with pained laughter.

“Reunions always are so interesting, aren’t they?” he gasped, chuckling between each struggling word. “See what’s become of people. See where they’ve ended up. See who they’ve ended up with.”

A bloodcurdling roar came from the back of my throat. I fell upon Nick. I pushed away the forearms he used to protect his face and unleashed a series of brutal punches, letting them land wherever they may.The result when I finally stopped was a heart that raced almost out of control, pain that radiated up my arms, and spit on my chin. As for Nick, his face was a bloody mess.

I pushed myself with ragged breath to my feet and spit on Nick before wiping my mouth. All I really accomplished was getting the tang of copper on my tongue. I staggered from foot to foot as I pointed a shaking finger down at Nick.

“If you go anywhere near Aurnia ever again, I’ll kill you,” I said, voice tight because I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

I began to stumble away, afraid that any moment I was going to pass out. The dark hollow of the stairwell seemed to move position every time I blinked. I put my arms out in front of me, hoping that I’d run into a wall before I fell down a metal staircase. In all of this Nick’s voice came like a ghost.

“You never gave me a chance to explain, Conor my boy.”

I tried to ignore him. Nothing he could say would justify getting anywhere near that child.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Nick taunted, humour sinking back into his voice like a goddamn cancer. “Even the teeniest tiniest bit curious?”

“God knows what depraved plans you had for Aurnia,” I shouted back.

Nick laughed.

Laughed and then said, “Not Aurnia…Shannon.”

I tripped on something on the floor, or maybe it was my own feet that betrayed me. Either way I collapsed to my knees. Hard. I felt the cold concrete beneath my palms as I panted in the dark. Before I could protect myself, Nick’s foot was connecting with my own ribs. I heard a crack and gasped in pain as I rolled over onto my back.

Nick stood over me, one side of his face just caught by the flickering flame of the lamp. It was his turn to spit on me. Blood splattered onto my cheek. I was so focused on cradling my cracked rib that I didn’t even move to wipe it away.

“I don’t want to hear her name,” I gasped. “Not from your mouth. Not from anyone’s mouth.”

The light filled Nick’s smile with a blackness the colour of tar. As I blinked up at him through the pain, it seemed to drip from his chin like chicken grease. He smiled even more when he caught me grimacing up at him.

“‘Don’t say her name?’” he repeated, leaning over me slightly. “But Conor, you loved her.”

I tried to sweep Nick’s feet from under him. All I managed to get was the sensation of a knife to my side. Nick’s ricocheting laughter made my skin crawl.

“That night was over so quickly,” he continued, circling round me like a buzzard with his hands clutched behind his stooped back. “There was the ambulance and then there was the Garda and when I was released from the hospital you were already gone.”

“You ratted me out,” I hissed. “You betrayed me. You destroyed my life.”

Nick clicked his tongue as he wagged his finger at me.

“No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I only destroyed the false life you were trying to live. I only made you see that it was never to be your life. I destroyed nothing that was real. No, Conor. I did you a service that night. As a friend.”

Nick slipped from the arc of light from the lantern as he continued to circle around me. I thought maybe the pain was making me stupid. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand.

“Shannon was trying to make you someone you weren’t,” Nick said, his voice slithering to me from the concealing darkness. “She got ideas of art school into your head. Of improving your lot. Of making something of yourself. Lies, Conor. Lies.”

“What are you talking about?” I gasped. “What the fuck are you talking about?”


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