Chapter 2! Thank you for all the support on Twitter everyone! =] x
I am left alone. Stood on the peer that stretches across the still, glass like water outside the Dog, the moon reflecting in the water, like a mirror. I exhale deeply, staring into the water where I know Danny's body lies. I do the cross sign, my hands barely working, barely able to move. I am shaking. I know it. That is to be expected though. I have just killed a man. Killed him, without pausing, without mercy but with brutality and rage.
It is funny, in a way, how the man who I have killed for has not flitted through my mind all night. Not since he flooded into me when I killed Danny. But now that I am left alone with the bitter cold and my thoughts alone, he returns, nagging at me.
Steven.
How is it possible that I can feel so much for him? When I hate who I am, hate what he is, hate what we have become? Danny would still be alive, if it wasn't for Steven. He would still be there, smirking and laughing in the cellar. Or possibly, he'd be round Steven's house now, getting rid of his body, cleaning up his mess.
Even the thought sickens me. I can see it. Danny breaking into Steven's place. Steven attempting to call the police, totally unaware of Danny's motive. Danny telling him that it is my fault. Steven dying, hating me. Thinking I put Danny up to this. Then Steven's body being dumped somewhere. Down a country lane or in a gutter. Left out in the night, with the animals and the insects. All alone.
I couldn't let that happen. It had happened to Vinnie and I refused to let it happen to Steven.
Oh, god. What am I going to say to Steven? Should I tell him? Tell him that I am a murderer? Risk losing him? I highly doubt that he will be pleased, even if I tell him that it was for him. I shall deal with that when it happens. Perhaps I should deal with the now.
My whole body internally shaking, I walk back, my legs barely carrying my weight. I have been told to burn everything I am wearing. Must I deal with that now? No, I'll do it tomorrow. Danny's blood is spattered on my shirt but I have zipped my leather jacket up to my neck. It shouldn't be noticed.
I make my way into the house, locking the door behind me. I lean against the cool wood, resting my forehead upon it, my breathing audibly shaking. The living room is soaked in blackness, the dark looking almost solid. I switch the lamp on and the room is bathed in a soft yellowy glow. I pour myself a glass of Irish whisky, the same whisky Steven and I drank the night he kissed me.
I slump on the sofa, shakily drinking whisky, thoughts whirling in my head. Before I can make any sense of anything, Cheryl comes plodding downstairs, in her pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers. She's wearing no make up and her hair is messy.
Rubbing her eyes, she speaks croakily: "Bren? You're home late."
"Sorry if I woke you, Chez," I apologise, scared that she'll catch me out. "I was stocktaking."
It's a lie, of course. A lie I have used many occasions when I have been in a 'lock-in' with Steven. This time it was a well needed lie. A lie that benefits no one. She smiles wearily.
"When are you going to bed? This light is a wee bit of a distraction," Cheryl asks. I down the rest of my whisky, deciding that I am no longer going to stay downstairs. I need to get out of these clothes anyway.
"I'll follow you up," I tell her, putting my glass down on the table and switching the lamp off, slinking behind her upstairs.
I sit on the bed, dressed in nothing but my boxers. My legs dangle over the edge of the bed. I cannot sleep. I've been trying desperately to sleep for just short of three hours. God, I'm terrified. I imagine my eyes are wide, pupils dilated, full of terror. The half light of my bedroom is somewhat comforting but still, I can't think straight. My mind is whirring, full of Danny and Warren and of course, Steven…
I walk up to Steven, in the cellar. He looks terrified. He backs away from me, unsure of what I will do. I take the crate out of his hands, he looks at me, confused. He's studying me with those gorgeous, youthful, challenging eyes of his. I lean forward, kissing him briefly and softly, then pull away, studying his face. He seems confused, scared but somewhat pleased. I repeat this action, but I do not move away as far as before. I smile, showing my teeth, showing Steven that I will not harm him. Not yet anyway. He studies me, looking deep into my eyes before we are kissing again. This time passionately, Steven returning the kiss. I run my hands through his hair, his placed at the back of my neck. He tastes so good…
Suddenly, I see Danny. Why do I see Danny?
He walks up to me, where I am stood beside the door. His hands are in his pockets, he looks somewhat smug. He tells me that to hurt someone, you go after the ones they love most. Cheryl, he must mean Cheryl. I ask him. He denies it. Too suspicious, considering she is with Warren. He informs me he means Steven… no. He won't- he cannot - touch Steven! I will not allow it!
Then Steven returns, flooding into me, my senses screaming with fear but roaring with pleasure from thoughts of the man who I have stupidly allowed myself to love.
Steven is looking down on me, smiling. His eyes are shining. There always seems to be a hint of challenge in his smile, in his eyes. I ask him if he's leaving. He tells me that he is cold. I smile. Good, he is not leaving. I tell him to come back to bed. He bounces, the bed rocking under his force. I laugh. He's like a child. So energetic and playful. I think, a part of me needs that, to keep me grounded. He tries to talk but I silence him with a kiss. We lie there, in the half light of my bedroom, basking in one another's company. Neither of us speaking.
Then my thoughts are only short.
Steven underneath me, face full of lust and passion.
Danny covered in blood, me striking with the hammer.
Steven underneath me.
Danny covered in blood.
Steven underneath.
Danny covered.
Steven.
Danny.
Steven.
Danny.
Stev…Dann…Ste…Dan…St…Da…S…D… I give up.
My thoughts are moving so fast, I cannot distinguish one from the other. I can see Steven and Danny, the sound of Steven grunting colliding with the sound of the hammer cracking Danny's skull.
'I might pay your little friend a visit.'
'Brendan, I want us to have a proper relationship…'
'He's dead.'
'You can't even say the word, can you? How are you ever gonna cope with us being a proper couple?'
'Does he know your little secret?'
'I'm not gonna be someone to be ashamed of anymore!'
I didn't sleep that night. Not even for a moment. Warren was right; I didn't have it in me to be a killer, but here I am. The murderer of Danny Houston. God, when Danny told me that he had killed Vinnie all those years ago, I felt sick. I couldn't comprehend how he could kill someone. How anyone could take away another mans life. I guess its different when you're faced with the situation. What choice did I have? Let Steven die? Then his blood would be on my hands. I don't think I could've lived with his death on my conscience. At least this way I have the comfort that I have saved someone's life.
When the clock ticks over to 9am and I hear Cheryl's alarm ring in the next room, I barely move. I'm still in the same position as the previous night. After about 15 minutes, I move. I get dressed and walk downstairs, taking my bloody clothes from last night with me in a bag. I don't even say morning, never mind have breakfast.
I stop by the club, only to pick up the 'murder weapon'. I hear canals are good places to keep hammers. I head there first, watching the blood stained weapon sink through the water. Every strike of that hammer, was for Steven. And yet, I fear telling him, for I may lose him forever. Steven may put up with my drug dealings and muggings but does he really have it in him to be with a murderer?
Then I find somewhere desolate, deserted, far from where anyone could pry. I pile the clothes on the ground, striking a match and watching the flames roar in front of me, the red-yellow-orange glow shining in my eyes. I look at the grey smoke, drifting towards the heavens, clouding in the pale blue sky. And still, through all this, Steven didn't leave my mind once.