Beyond the Rage (3 page)

5

He turned the radio on full blast as he drove home, as if to crowd out the confusion in his mind. It made sense to him that she
’d
want to force some sort of normality into her life. What was normal for her was a transaction. When it came to that form of negotiation she held the power. She decided what happened and when. She made the choice.

He got that. But how could she face another man after one had forced himself on her and hurt her? Surely she should never want to breathe the same air as another man again.

The bass-line of an old Luther Vandross track filled the car.

‘...she’s a super lady, uh huh...’

Ahh, the irony. He switched channels and found a station playing some hard rock. That was more in keeping with his mood.

The roads were quiet. Most people would surely be curled under a quilt, having given up on one day and sleeping on the expectation that the next might be an improvement.

Sleep. That would be nice. He suddenly realised how tired he was.

Shit. Fuckity fuck. He
’d
forgotten all about his Aunt Vi and the letter. He looked at the clock. 11:30. They
’d
all be in bed now and his name would be muddier than mud. He
’d
go first thing in the morning, with a bunch of flowers and a pair of earplugs to drown out the moans of his Uncle Colin. How that woman had stayed with him all these years, he
’d
never know.

He was on the Great Western Road driving out towards Kelvinside when the bright beam of car headlights filled his mirror. He looked up, trying to judge who it was. Police? He turned down the volume on his stereo. The car lights appeared closer and he could hear music coming from the other car. Not police then, just a joyrider.

He pressed his foot down on the accelerator. His car surged forward. It might only have been a Ford, but it was the top of the range and had plenty power to spare. The lights from the other car faded into the distance and then came back as the driver faced up to the challenge that Kenny now presented him with.

He heard a shout and looked in his mirror. There were two guys in the other car. He couldn’t make out both of them, but he could see the driver was not happy. Good. Kenny had a surfeit of anger to deal out and if this guy wanted some, he was happy to oblige. For his own part he never could understand that urge to assert your position on the road, that rage that built up in some people. We all have somewhere to go and the roads are wide enough for us all. Why lose it just because someone gives us an imagined slight while we are behind the wheel of a car? A similar incident while out walking would barely merit a look, but a car engine purring in front of some people was enough for them to act as if you had just threatened to rape their kids.

Kenny jumped on the brake. A squeal of tyres sounded from the other car as the driver fought to avoid a collision. Then Kenny pushed down on the accelerator and surged away. Within seconds the other car was back on his tail and through the mirror Kenny could see that the driver’s face was contorted with fury, as he screamed a challenge at him. The passenger on the other hand, was sitting with his arms crossed, looking decidedly uncomfortable. They were young, but not so young that he couldn’t deal them a lesson. The driver: shaved head, square face; he would have guessed early twenties. Kenny shifted the mirror to get a quick look at his passenger. From what he could see, he had some height on the driver and a couple of years. He had blonde hair, cut army-short and was a finer featured version of the other. Brothers or perhaps cousins?

He turned left at the next junction. Pulled to a stop and stepped out of the car. He was more than happy to see how this was going to play out. Two of them, against one of him. Just the odds he needed.

Kenny could see now that the other car was a Golf. It screamed to a halt behind his car and the two guys stepped out. Straight away he could see that they were gym bunnies. Despite the fact it was a cold night in March they were both wearing T-shirts. Tight enough to show off the heft of their muscle. A muscle that was earned, no doubt, while posing in front of a full-length mirror for hours and hours. A muscle that would give them a false sense of security when they teamed up against a solitary man.

Oh well, thought Kenny, their funeral.

‘You got a death wish, mate?’ the driver asked as he stomped towards him. He was just under six feet, all shoulders, pecs and biceps. Working out to a pattern that would show best when he was wearing T-shirt and jeans. His thighs nowhere as developed as the top half of his body.

‘C’mon, Mark,’ the passenger said, ‘we don’t want any trouble.’ He was looking over Kenny, appraising him. Smart, thought Kenny while he in turn checked him out. He would be more of a challenge than his buddy. Just over six feet, he was leaner and more in proportion and he walked with a grace that suggested a more rounded fitness regime. If Kenny didn’t take him out first, this might get interesting. Perhaps too interesting. The tall one would have to go first.

‘What the fuck you playin’ at, mate?’ The driver was working himself up to the necessary pitch before he waded in to mete out some punishment. ‘We’re going to fuck you up so bad, you’ll be eating through a straw for months.’

‘Mark,’ the passenger said, ‘enough. Let’s go.’

‘I’m going to have you, mate,’ Mark said. ‘And my brother here is going to wade in and kick your arse because that’s what brothers do.’ He turned to face his brother. ‘They help each other. Now get some steel, bro, and help me waste this wanker.’

Kenny simply stood before them, arms loose by his side, feet shoulder-width apart, saying nothing. Giving them nothing back. The man who doubts is the man who loses, his old fight teacher once told him. Sow some doubt and the first battle is won.

‘What, can you no fuckin’ speak, ya poof?’ Mark said.

‘Aye, probably been up at some gay bar getting pumped in the toilet, ya fanny,’ his brother joined in, half-heartedly. This guy clearly didn’t want to be here, but judging by the way he was still moving nearer Kenny and by the way he was working his hands, he would do what was necessary to help his brother.

Fine by me, thought Kenny. Still saying nothing. He looked over their shoulders at the junction. As he expected, there were a couple of CCTV cameras trained down the main road. Whoever was operating them hadn’t yet thought to check on this side of the junction. Good. No witnesses.

Kenny maintained his position, feeling his connection with the ground. His certainty. He thought of Alexis and the bruise on her face. He thought of her need to have paid sex with him. Man, that was fucked up. He imagined his anger as a white ball of anger, he allowed it to spread and fill his muscles. He revelled in the feeling of the violence that was to come. He waited till the men stepped a little closer and then attacked.

6

Kenny’s motto was to get in quick, maximise the damage and then get back out again. The smaller brother – Mark – he pegged straight away as the big mouth, and the taller one as the real danger in the situation. Take him out and the other guy would be much more manageable.

He jumped inside the guy’s range, just as he was about to launch a punch. It didn’t come anywhere near connecting. Kenny brought up his right leg, and stamped down with his foot on the other man’s knee. The joint moved in a direction knees were never intended to.

The man fell down with a scream. He wouldn’t be getting back up again soon. Kenny turned to face his smaller brother, who was coming at him like a windmill. He was all about power and he expected that would always be enough for him to win any fight. He
’d
clearly never come up against anyone like Kenny.

He waited till the last moment, wheeled to the side. Mark lost his balance. He righted himself. Kenny kneed him in the gut. Breath exploded from the other man’s lungs. Kenny wheeled again and brought an elbow crashing on to the side of his face.

Mark groaned. He stepped back. His expression was one of fear. He was breathing hard. He hadn’t expected this and Kenny looked like he had barely expended any effort.

Kenny took another step closer. Mark looked round to see where his brother was. Kenny was between him, the cars and his brother. He turned and ran.

‘Aw, for fuck’s sake,’ Kenny exclaimed. ‘Come back,’ he shouted at Mark’s rapidly retreating back. ‘I was only getting warmed up.’

He turned to the brother who was struggling to stand up. Kenny looked from him to the other one, who was still running. His anger left him as if flushed out with the brief spell of action. He ground his teeth at his own reaction. Shit. They were barely out of their teens. He should know better.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t stand on that,’ he said. ‘Might do it irreparable harm.’

‘I could still get you when I’m one-legged.’ The young man hopped up and down and held his fists out.

Kenny laughed. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Is that so you can tell all your bum-chums who kicked your arse?’

‘You’ve got spirit, son,’ Kenny said and lunged forward as if to attack. His opponent tried to hop backwards and fell. He groaned with the pain.

‘See, if I wasn’t in so much pain, I
’d
have you.’

‘What’s your name?’ Kenny repeated. He looked down at him sprawled on the ground, cradling his knee and his mouth contorted with pain.

‘Calum,’ was the reply as he moved into a sitting position. ‘And I could still kick your arse.’

‘One-legged? That would be a feat.’ Kenny laughed. ‘Oh, get it?’ He giggled, his laughter fed by the adrenalin that was still feeding his system. ‘A feat? One-legged?’ He laughed some more. Forced himself to calm down and joined Calum on the ground.

Calum flinched as if expecting another blow.

‘Nah, you’re awright, mate,’ said Kenny. ‘The moment has passed.’ He looked down at Calum’s leg.

‘How’s the knee?’

‘Fucking agony. Don’t know if I can stand on it.’ He made a face as he tried to flex the whole limb. ‘Aaaah,’ he groaned. ‘Can’t move it.’

‘Shit, man,’ said Kenny. ‘You’re going to have to get that seen to, Calum. And soon. We’re talking ligament damage.’

‘You for real?’ Calum squinted over at him.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You face up to a road-rage merchant. Near break my leg... and now you’re offering sympathy?’

‘About the leg thing – I’m really sorry,’ said Kenny. And he was. He could see that there was more to this young man than abusing other road users. There was something about the way he held himself. The calmness before the fight and then the refusal to give in despite being quickly taken out of the action.

‘Yeah, what was that move?’ Calum asked. ‘I’ve done some martial arts...’

‘That was from the street, Calum. I could see in a blink that you were the dangerous one. I had to take you out quickly so I could concentrate on the lesser fighter,’ Kenny said. ‘Your brother’s a pussy by the way.’

‘Who you callin’ a pussy?’ The shout came from further down the street. Mark must have reconsidered his flight and returned to see if there was any fight left or if his brother was okay.

‘You’re a pussy, Mark,’ Calum shouted. ‘You fucking ran.’

‘See how quick he took you out, brother. I wasn’t going to wait for that.’

‘So you fucking ran.’

Kenny stood up and looked down the street. Mark was hunched over behind some cars. Despite his obvious fear he was making his way back up towards his brother. Can’t be all bad, thought Kenny.

He took a step towards Mark. Mark took a couple of steps back, stopped and then took a step forward.

‘I’m not a pussy,’ he repeated, looking about seventeen years old.

‘What age are you?’ Kenny asked.

‘Twenty-two. How?’ Mark scowled.

Kenny tutted. ‘No, buddy, the question is, why?’ It was one verbal tic that pissed Kenny off; too many people these days used ‘How?’ as their default question.

‘Eh?’

‘Brought up by Red Indians?’

‘How?’

‘Mark, shut the fuck up,’ Calum joined in. ‘You’re comin’ across as a total loser.’

‘Aye, ya dobber,’ shouted Mark. ‘You’re the wan wae the fucked-up knee.’

Kenny groaned. He was going to be here all night.

‘Mark,’ Kenny shouted. ‘Get your arse up here.’

‘No fuckin’ way. You’re going to do me like you did him.’

‘As I said to Calum, the moment’s passed. Now I just want to be pals.’

‘I’m no that stupid, mate. Once you’re in that car and offski, I’ll come and get my brother.’

Kenny shook his head and took the few steps back to Calum, who was now sitting on the kerb. His face was shaded with pain, but he was resigned to the situation, waiting to see how it worked out.

‘You going to be alright?’ Kenny asked.

Calum raised his eyebrows.

‘I know, I know, why should I care?’

Calum read something in Kenny’s expression. ‘Might not be able to work for a few weeks.’

‘What do you do?’

‘I’m a bouncer in the evenings. Work with a security firm covering a few nightclubs in town. I’m a student during the day.’

‘The bouncing thing figures. You look like you could take care of yourself... and you won’t get hit by that same move again,’ Kenny smiled. ‘What are you studying?’

Calum made a face. ‘Philosophy.’

‘You’re kidding me, right?’

‘“I have had women, I have fought with men; and I could never turn back any more than a record can spin in reverse. And all that was leading me where? To this very moment...”’

‘Bet girls love those lines. Who said it?’

‘Jean Paul Sartre.’

‘What does it mean?’

‘Fucked if I know.’

They both laughed.

‘What’s going on up there?’ shouted Mark. ‘You two fallin’ in love, or somethin’?’

‘Shut the fuck up, Mark,’ Calum and Kenny both replied at the same time.

‘I feel we should share a smoke,’ said Kenny.

Calum grinned. His eyes moved down the road in the general direction of his brother. He shrugged.

‘Sorry about the car chase thing and the road-rage crap.’

‘You’re better than that, Calum,’ Kenny said. ‘Why
’d
you do it?’

‘Mark’s always hyped. Always got to prove he’s the big man. But it usually ends up with me stringing along and protecting him, or…’ – he looked down at his leg – ‘...taking the beating.’ He shrugged again. ‘Blood’s thicker than water, mate.’

‘Aye,’ Kenny stood up and wiped the dirt from the seat of his trousers. ‘But when the person with the blood connection is thicker than shite, you have to let them go to it on their own.’

‘You learned that lesson?’

Kenny said nothing. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and plucked out a business card.

‘Once you’ve got your knee in a brace give me a call. I could use somebody like you. You can bring your pussy brother once he’s grown up a wee bit.’

‘Who are you callin’ a pussy?’ the shout came from down the street.