The Cunning

49

They took the stairs of the council flat building quietly to avoid alerting Oliver of their presence. They passed post-code graffiti tags and a BMX missing its front wheel as they climbed the floors, their nostrils adjusting to the smell of cooking and urine soaked into the bare concrete floor and dirty blue walls. Jase felt for his switchblade as he waited out of view from the spyhole. Sam knocked. The door opened, and Sam smiled.

"Alright, Ollie?" he asked. Before Oliver had time to respond, Jase stepped in front of Sam and booted the door, forcing Oliver back as they marched into the flat. Oliver was already trying to talk his way out of trouble, scrambling backward on the floor and up the wall. His face had gone pale and they'd barely even started their usual dance.

Sam closed the door to minimise the chances of neighbours interfering if they heard a commotion. Not that they had much to worry about, most people liked to mind their own business. They'd been seen in the block enough times. It was common knowledge on the estate that Oliver had a drug problem and people wanted to avoid that mess.

"Where's my money, Ollie?" Jase asked calmly.

Oliver was stuttering, hardly able to string together a sentence. As a user himself, Jase knew the red eyes and his jitteriness were down to cocaine. Ollie was off his tits on the substance he was refusing to pay for. "I'll get it to you, mate. I just need a bit more time-" Jase was shaking his head. Oliver read from the same script every time. Word for word.

"Unfortunately, you're out of time." Jase's hand clutched the blade in his pocket, about to pull it out when he was stopped in his tracks. A small voice came from beside them, the three heads turned to look down the hall. A little girl, no older than four, was standing at one of the bedroom doors in fairy pajamas with a teddy dangling in her hand.

"Daddy, who's here?" she asked, her droopy eyes taking in the scene before her. Jase looked back to Oliver, brows raised as he waited for him to get rid of her.

"Just some of daddy's friends, baby. Go back to bed. I'll come read you another story in a minute," he reassured her to the best of his ability, trying to conceal the shakiness in his voice. She turned around, shutting the door behind her. "Please," Oliver went back to pleading with Jase, "I've got a daughter to feed." Jase flashed a menacing smile.

"Should have thought about that before you ran up a £300 bill. Your daughter is not my responsibility." Oliver was sweating, licking his lips nervously, and Jase was growing more impatient. "I've got a switch in my pocket, Ollie. It would be a real shame if one of your daughter's earliest memories were seeing her daddy cut up in his hallway." Oliver's eyes flared, realising there was no quick way out of this and Jase wasn't fucking around.

"I've only got £200 here. I can get you the rest soon."

Jase tensed his jaw, "How soon?"

Oliver shrugged, "By the end of the week. I'll even come round and drop it off."

"I'll come and get it next Friday," Jase replied, stepping back.

Oliver nodded, finally able to breathe. He went into the kitchen, opened a coffee jar, pulled out a roll of twenties, and handed them to Jase. Jase chucked the roll to Sam who proceeded to count the money.

"I'll be here at half five next Friday, Ollie. If you're late on a payment again, I'll drag you into your daughter's room and cut you in front of her. Understood?"

"All here," Sam said. Oliver swallowed and nodded.

Jase smiled as if he hadn't just forced his way into Ollie's home and threatened to traumatise his daughter. "Glad we got this cleared up. Enjoy the rest of your night, mate." He pat Ollie on the back twice and they showed themselves out, jogging down the stairs.

"Did you know his daughter was there?" Sam asked.

"I didn't even know he had a kid, but if you owe money, you owe money. A kid isn't going to be your get out of jail free card."