Bully

Chapter 37

A strange sense of de ja vu washed over me as I climbed through the small window and into the house, remembering how I had carried out the exact same procedure at Bugs' house in what seemed like years ago. However there were major differences this time. Where Bugs house was modern and grand, Gillian Mac's was crumbling and cosy - a typical elderly person's home, complete with lace curtains. I had been scared and nervous before, I was eager and confident now. The major difference, though, was that I was not going to be caught. This time, I was the capturer.

I slipped into the house without a sound and constructed a quick mental map in my head - taking note that I was standing in the living room, and that to my left was a door that opened up into a hallway and to my right was the kitchen. The house was eerily still, covered in a layer of thick dust and holding the lingering smell of mothballs. It looked like it'd been abandoned (though it was nowhere near as neglected as my own house) and a brief sense of doubt overcame me - what if the address was wrong? After all, it was chief who had provided me with this information.

I couldn't leave without hard evidence though, so I crept to the kitchen and found a key for the backdoor. I slowly opened the backdoor, wincing at the strained creaking noise it made. Brawn could hardly fit through the deflated doorway, and had to graze his shoulders across the rotting doorframe to get inside.

"You sure she lives here?" he whispered, casting a dubious look across the ancient kitchen. "It looks like it's been empty for years,"

My eyes landed on the old, humming fridge, where there were a couple of yellow-tinged photographs pinned under alphabet magnets. My jaw clenched, a sneaking suspicion about what those photos were of. I plucked one of them off, and studied the faded ink with rising anger. Sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed - it was Gillian Mac's very own copy of the photograph I'd discovered under my Father's bed. The captured moment of my father proposing to my mother - the very moment Gillian Mac had ruined our family. I shoved the photo in my pocket, planning to use it as evidence when I confronted my 'grandmother'.

"Only one way to find out," I muttered, pulling the gun out and balancing it in my maimed hand.

I could almost sense Brawn stiffen. "Byker, you promised," he warned.

I gave him a flat look, finally losing my nerve with Brawn's protest. It was the photo that had triggered it - the anger that built up inside me over the fact she had the nerve to keep this photo was immeasurable. "If you don't have the balls to do your job than leave," I told him harshly. "You've killed countless people before, what's one more?"

I probably shouldn't infuriate Brawn - he could crush me in his sleep. But I had a habit of being reckless when I was angry. A vein throbbed in his neck, telling me I had aggravated him. Good, I thought, maybe if I got him angry he wouldn't be so subdued.

His hand reached up to the golden ring that hung on his necklace. He never took it off and I'd never mentioned it. I had my own secrets so I knew how to respect others - although I was curious over it, I'd never brought it up. "This," he said, lifting it up to my line of vision. "Was my mothers. She was killed in her sleep by some arrogant meathead with a gun. Call me soft, but I'm not fond of doing the same thing to someone else's mother,"

I narrowed my eyes at him. He wanted to reveal his secrets? Fine. Maybe I'd tell him some of mine. "Would you take revenge on the guy who did it?" I asked him, my voice eerily calm.

Brawn didn't hesitate to revenge. "I already have. Twelfth of March, 2011. By the time I was finished taking revenge, he was begging me for death,"

I cocked my gun pointedly. "Well, Gillian Mac is the reason my mother's dead. The reason why my uncles dead. The reason why my father works for Bugs and why I'm following in his footsteps. And I intend to take revenge,"