Coffee, Cigarettes and Apologies

By Jet-Indigo

Chapter Eight – Scar Tissue

It didn't look any different when he stood to the side. It was still gravely noticeable. He didn't think it would ever fade, change from the angry red colour to the white-ish silver that most other scars turned eventually. It looked awful but he couldn't turn his eyes away from it. It was just there.

The spiral on his arm reminded him of a helter-skelter slide that his mother had so often taken him to when he was a child. It was an odd memory but he remembered hearing his sister giggling with glee as she went round and round the slide, only to climb back up the steps for another turn. He and Henry had fought over who got to go next and ended up punching and kicking their way to the top of the stairs. But it had been a great day, just before their father had left. If anything, that was how he liked to remember his parents – when they were both happy.

Ever since he could remember, he had had this 'persona' where he was seen as the brute. Sure, he had a temper but that was thanks to the Italian blood from his father's side. Well, that was the only excuse he could think of. He had grown up in a house with five kids, so there were bound to be fights when one of them didn't get their own way. That was why he was so used to life on the team, the group atmosphere, used to sharing everything with other people and knowing that if you didn't grab the food as fast as possible then too bad, you weren't getting any.

He heard a knock at the bathroom door and he sighed. "Just a minute," he said, pulling his shirt back on. He opened the door and his mirror image, more or less, was standing before him.

Henry sniffed the air, "Not been for a dump then, what took you so damn long in here?"

"You're one to talk, mullet boy."

Henry grabbed Vince by the shoulder, pulling him out of the bathroom before shutting the door and locking it. A moment later, he heard the shower turn on as he walked down the stairs. He collapsed on the couch in the living room by Connor, who was watching some form of porn with Luther and Juliette. If it was the team, Vince would have been surprised but having come to know Luther well over the years, he figured his influence had passed on to the other two watchers. It was wrong how comfortable he was watching the sex-show while three other people were in the room with him.

"That's a really uncomfortable position," Juliette mused, as they all cocked their heads to one side to try and make out what was going on.

"Yeah, I tried it once, I got bored," Connor replied. "Christ, he's really goin' for it, I'm surprised he hasn't had an aneurysm."

"Just because you're fat and get worn out easily, doesn't mean that everyone does Con," Luther joked, earning him a tea coaster precariously close to his face.

"I'm not fat anyway, this is all muscle man."

"Love handles," Juliette smiled, pushing herself up as the groaning seemed to get louder. "Now seems like the right time to go out for a smoke."

"I'm there," Vince said, following her outside to the spot that had become their smoking corner on the porch.

"I swear to God, those guys watch too much porn. They really need a good shag," Juliette stated, while Vince laughed lightly through his cigarette smoke. "How ya feeling today?"

"Good, thanks. I relish the good days, I really do."

"Well that's good, at least you're recovering. At least you can say you have good days."

"Yeah, that's true…I just wish I was recovering in my own environment, with people I'm used to and that what happened hadn't happened," he began ranting, stopping himself before he blurted out everything to this woman he had only known for three weeks. She wasn't even looking in his direction and he realised he had said something stupid. "Sorry, I – uh…I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." She took the last drag of her cigarette and flicked it out onto the grass, going back inside before he could say another word. Fucking women, sometimes they're more trouble than they're worth, he thought to himself, shaking his head while he finished his cigarette. Well whatever it was, she'll get over it. They always do.

He went back inside where a much tamer episode of Family Guy was now playing on the TV. Connor and Luther were laughing at something that had happened on it but he chose to ignore them and go to his, well, the room he was staying in. He was just about to shut his door behind him when he heard raised voices coming from two doors down. Juliette's room.

"No, you've been here for nearly a month Henry and I haven't asked any questions! Me and Connor have been so patient with you but you haven't told us what you're fucking plans are and what you're going to do! I'm not saying I want you to leave, don't jump straight to that conclusion, I just wanna know what you're gonna do."

"Well, that's the way you made it sound J. I don't know what we're gonna do, how am I supposed to figure out what we can do if Vince won't even tell me what went on with him and his team? I don't have a fucking clue how he got that shotgun wound to his stomach. All I know is that he nearly died on me and as much as I hate to admit it, he's my brother and I want to protect him."

Vince was stood by the closed door, listening intently to the two. Nothing else seemed to be said; instead he heard a thud from inside the room. He thought that the best time to stop eavesdropping, so he made his way into his room and lay on his bed, feeling a chronic headache come on. As much as they had become common to him, they still drained him. As quick as they came on, he began feeling nauseous and sleepy.

…

Henry woke up alone and naked. The room smelt like sex and the events of only a few hours previous came flooding back to him, a smile forming on his lips in the dark. He felt around for his clothes, finding them on the floor inside out. While he was pulling them back on, he heard a thud coming from somewhere downstairs. He stood still, straining to hear any other noises that might accompany the bang to let him know who was making it. Nothing.

He crept silently back to his own room, where Luther was sleeping soundly. He began blindly searching for the blade he kept with him at all times and pulled it out from his jacket pocket. He gripped it tightly in his hand, sneaking down the landing, down the stairs. He moved slowly, something in the back of his mind was telling him that things weren't right. The living room was empty.

Clunk.

The kitchen. The noise was coming from the kitchen now. As he approached the doorway, he began to hear muffled groans, followed by a lot of scuffling. He moved into the kitchen, finding the suspects of the noise. The intruder had someone by the throat and they were both battling it out to see who would win. He had to think fast. Remembering the knife in his hand, he saw it glint in his hand and he thrust forward. The knife penetrated the guys back, causing him to let go of his victim. Henry now had him round the neck and could feel the blood seeping around his hand.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Henry seethed; glaring at the masked mans profile.

"Fuck you!" Henry twisted the knife further into his back. He felt the man stiffen beneath his touch and he moaned heavily.

"What do you want?" He asked, his tone dripping with anger. Henry was pushed back into one of the kitchen units as the assailant began fighting back. A loud scream began rang in his ears but he didn't pay attention as to where it was coming from. Ripping the knife from his back, Henry thrust it back in at a different angle. "Who sent you?" He shouted, letting the man drop to his knees before him. Henry circled around him, waving the knife in his face. He snatched the balaclava from the mans head, but he didn't recognise who it was. Just another thief looking for an easy break.

He muttered something inaudible so Henry bent down, lifting up his chin with the point of the blade. "What?"

"Tran…Tran'll get you." He stuttered, while blood slowly tricked from the corner of his mouth.

"Who?" But all that was returned was an eerie smile. And then the life disappeared from his eyes and he fell onto his face on the linoleum floor.

Henry's spine tingled when he heard that name. But he had no idea why. The knife in his hand dropped to the ground with a light bang and he stood staring at death.

He felt a hand on his arm and he flinched at the chilling touch. Then he noticed that it was Juliette, that she had been the one the guy was attacking. "What was that about?" he asked, quietly, feeling another presence enter the room. Before she could answer, the kitchen light was flicked on and the two of them winced at the sudden brightness. Luther and Connor stood in the doorway, both looking at the dead man on the floor.

"What the hell just happened Henry?" Luther asked, now looking questioningly at his best friend. Then he noticed the bruising that was already forming on Juliette's neck and forgot about his previous question. "J, are you okay?" He said, rushing forward and moving her chin up to get a better look at the bruising.

"I'm fine," she answered, pulling away from Luther's touch and pulling her bathrobe closer to her body. They both turned to Henry, still in the same position standing over the dead man on the floor.

"Where's Vince?" He asked, after a moment. He looked up, looked at the three faces that had been watching him so intently. None of them answered so he pushed past them and marched into the living room, then back into the kitchen. ""Okay." He said, sighing. "Okay, here's the plan. Luther – I need you to bring the car round, back it up so we can get this heap into the trunk." Luther nodded, but didn't leave, waiting to hear the rest of the plan. "I don't know who Tran is. Do any of you?" They all shook their heads. "That means they're after Vince and I'm betting, this guys the reason my brother is upstairs recovering from a shotgun wound to the stomach. But they know he's here, I don't know how and I don't know why but that means we gotta move fast." He paused for breath, unsure of where his authoritarian tone had suddenly come from but it scared him slightly. "Me and Luther are gonna get rid of the body. You two stay here, if anything happens, call the cops alright?"

Connor nodded but Juliette didn't move. She was sitting on one of the chairs by the kitchen table, staring at her lap. While Luther went to get the car and Connor disappeared into the living room, Henry bent down in front of Juliette. He softly placed his hand on her cheek, lifting her face to look into her eyes. 'You sure you're okay?" He asked softly. She nodded her head slowly and he leaned up to kiss her. "Come on, you don't need to see this," he said, taking her into the living room. He then followed Luther back into the kitchen where they began cleaning up their mess.

…

When Henry and Luther arrived back to the house, it was almost dawn. Juliette was asleep on the couch and Connor was nowhere in sight. They both headed straight to the kitchen where the smears of blood had been cleaned away. Henry began washing his hands, watching the crimson life force of another man go down the plughole.

"What are we gonna do now?" Luther asked quietly. He had been pretty much silent on their journey to get rid of the dead man and he was staring at the floor as he asked the question. Seeing Henry that way had spooked him slightly. Sure, they had seen their fair share of combat but there had been a new glint in Henry's eyes that night and he did not want to get in the way of it.

"I need to talk to Vince."