Deano walked over to Jason and stood with his chin raised towards his love rival.
‘Go on then,’ he said. ‘One clean punch. Do your worst.’
‘I’m not doing anything,’ insisted Jason, but one of the goons aimed such a vicious kick to the back of his knee that he staggered and lost his footing, crying out in anguish.
‘You’ll do as you’re told,’ said Lawrence softly. ‘And then all this will be over, and you’ll get out of here alive.’
‘Steady on!’ exclaimed Deano. ‘I’m not getting mixed up in any murders.’
‘Figure of speech,’ murmured Lawrence.
‘Do it,’ growled a goon, releasing Jason’s arm but keeping a tight hold on the back of his neck. ‘Take a swing at him.’
‘Jenna’s a tramp,’ said Deano suddenly, putting his face close to Jason’s. ‘She must be, to shack up with a piece of scum like you. I bet she was all over you. Nice bit of rough. If only I’d known that was what she liked, I needn’t have bothered trying to work out what was wrong between us. I could have just bussed in some bums from Skid Row to keep her happy … Oof.’
But his exclamation was nothing to do with Jason hitting him.
Jason had lashed out, yes, but Deano had ducked and sprang away from him, to aim as fierce a blow as he could to one of the goons.
The goon had seen it coming, quick as it was, and knocked Deano to the floor.
‘Shit!’ shouted Lawrence, running over to the motionless figure of Deano. ‘What have you done?’
‘He was going to have a go at me!’ whined the goon. ‘He was trying to get one over on us.’
‘Christ, have you killed him?’
Lawrence leant over Deano, feeling for a pulse.
The goons joined him, too anxious and guilty to notice Jason slipping away into the hallway behind.
When Deano woke up, he had no idea where he was.
Everything was a blur – as much in his head as in front of his eyes, and besides, it was dark. There was a smell of damp in the air, though – he was sure of that, and a sense that he wasn’t alone. He heard the shifting of fabric beside him, a person in motion, then a voice.
‘What happened to you?’
‘Who’s that? Where am I? Fuck, my head!’
He clutched it, gasping, and gave up his attempt to sit.
‘I’m Kayley – remember me?’
A sense of grateful pleasure appeared amidst all the bad feelings. Kayley. Yes. This was good.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, I do.’
More bad memories amongst the good.
‘I suppose you hate me for what I did? Going up to the Hall?’
‘Yeah, well, you lost me my job, but never mind that. You’re in a hell of a state. What happened?’
‘I don’t know his name, but whoever he is, he’s got a right hook straight out of Raging Bull.’
‘Out of what?’
‘You don’t know that movie? About a boxing champion?’