Closer Than Blood. Paul Grzegorzek

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СКАЧАТЬ Other than that our features were eerily similar, and no one looking at us could confuse us for anything other than brothers. It was like looking at a warped reflection, and I wondered if right now we both had the same haunted look in our eyes.

      “Let me get this right. You stole six kilos of cocaine?” He nodded. “Who even has six kilos of cocaine?”

      “Nasty bastards, usually.”

      “Just how nasty are we talking, Jake?”

      “Skin your face and rub it in salt nasty.”

      “Shit.”

      “Yeah.”

      I realised then that he had been right earlier. If I arrested him, he would be fair game for whoever was after him. The sort of people who had six kilos of coke lying around had the kind of clout that could get anyone killed, inside prison or out, with a click of their fingers. I wasn’t sure if I could keep the promise I’d made Dad, but arresting Jake would be the first step in the wrong direction.

      I looked at him, standing there like a caged animal, ready to fly at the slightest provocation, and suddenly felt a tremendous wash of guilt. Jake was still my brother, yet all I’d shown him was anger and disappointment. Before he could react, I darted across the room and grabbed him in a bear hug, smelling the salty tang of the sea on his skin as I squeezed him tight.

      “I missed you, you fucking idiot,” I said as he initially struggled to get free, then relaxed a little and began to pat me on the back. “Even with everything that’s happened, I missed you. Me and Dad both.”

      “Yeah,” he whispered hoarsely. As I drew back I could see a glint in his eye that looked suspiciously like a tear. “Me too. Wanted to call pretty much every day at first, but the longer I was away, the harder it became and eventually it felt like it was too late.”

      “It was never too late,” I replied gruffly, releasing him and stepping back as something made my own eyes sting. “We’re family, Jake, and there’s nothing closer than blood.”

      He nodded and took a step towards the window, then winced and bent to put a hand on his knee.

      “You OK?” I asked.

      “You were right,” he replied, still rubbing his knee, “water was like concrete. Thought I’d broken my legs when I hit.”

      “Speaking of which, how did you not get spotted by the life boats?”

      “There’s loads of metalwork on the outside of the marina. I used it to pull myself around to the other side. Couldn’t get my legs to work at first, and then the sea caught me and sucked me down. I thought I was done for, but it pushed me against the wall and I grabbed hold of the first thing I found. While the boats were all searching for me on the east side, I was already halfway across the west. Only bit I had to swim across was the marina entrance and my legs had come back to life by then.”

      “Bet your drugs didn’t like being dipped in the sea.”

      “Don’t matter, the bag’s got a waterproof liner.” He reached over and hefted the bag with a grin. “I’ve still got six kilos of finest …”

      The grin faltered as he remembered who he was talking to. “So what am I supposed to do with you?” I moved to sit on the end of his bed. The room hadn’t changed since Jake had left, and I stared idly at the ancient Manchester United strip that graced his duvet covers.

      Jake sat on the far side of the bed, careful to keep out of reach. I guessed that years of living in the murky world of drugs had eroded his faith in anyone but himself. His eyes kept flicking to my hands, as if waiting for me to jump him, or maybe he was worried I’d try and hug him again.

      “Just let me do my thing,” he said finally. “I only came down to Brighton again because the market here isn’t connected to … to the people looking for me. It’s one of the few places I can sell it without getting caught.”

      “You want me to leave you alone so that you can sell drugs in my town and disappear?”

      “Well, yeah.”

      “No way. Tell you what. You leave now, walk out that door and don’t come back. Go wherever the hell you like, but you leave my city alone. I can’t and won’t protect you if you try and sell your shit here. There are plenty of other places.”

      “You don’t understand, they’ve got eyes everywhere else!”

      “Then tell me who the fuck they are!” I thundered, standing again to loom over my brother. “I can’t help you if you won’t tell me anything.”

      “Fine.” Jake stood, shouldering his bag. “I’ll go. Say hi to Dad for me.”

      He stormed out onto the landing and down the stairs. I heard the front door open and waited for it to slam shut. There was a moment of silence. And then something that sounded suspiciously like the smack of flesh on flesh, followed by a sharp cry and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Jake’s enemies, it seemed, had found him after all.

       Chapter 6

      I was moving less than a second later, barrelling out of the door and down the stairs to see Jake in a heap on the doormat. Above him stood a bear of a man in a black thigh-length leather jacket that strained to contain his biceps and shoulders. He looked up in surprise and then I was on him, one foot lashing out to catch him under the kneecap while my fists struck chest, cheek and jaw.

      The man’s head snapped backwards with the force of the punches, blows designed to drop a man in his tracks. But then he shook himself and lumbered towards me, dark eyes flaring with anger.

      He stomped on Jake’s arm as he came, and I heard the sound of grinding bone as I backed off to give myself some space.

      The hallway was narrow. My opponent filled it from wall to wall as he raised his fists in a guard, elbows at eye level. Whatever the outcome, I had the distinct impression that this was going to hurt.

      “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” I said, stopping as I reached the centre of the hall, a small square that led to all the other downstairs rooms, “but this is private property. I suggest you leave.”

      My only answer was a meaty first, hurled at my head faster than I would have thought someone that big could move. I ducked to one side, grabbed the wrist and twisted his arm so that his elbow was pointing up, dropping my own elbow onto it with a force honed by years of kung fu and street fighting combined.

      To my amazement, the joint cracked but didn’t break, causing the man to roar and shake me off before hammering a fist into my ribs that I was too slow to block.

      I gasped as the pain hit, then felt a lazy grin forming as my body’s chemical cocktail kicked in, flooding my system with its mixture of endorphins, adrenaline and half a dozen other useful things. Concern over my brother, fear over fighting an unknown opponent who looked as if he could kill me, everything faded away but the need to beat him, to win.

      You see, I love fighting, always have. Right or wrong, I relish the chance to slip the chains free and leap into the fray, testing myself against those who think they can СКАЧАТЬ