“Who’s that with you?” Jason shouted over.
“Fucking arsewipe,” Cassie muttered to Jimmy. “You have no idea how much I hate him. Now, go along with what I’m going to say—that I found out you’d planned to sell those drugs you mentioned. I need to tell him that to get him in the house.”
“But he’s got a gun. I saw it tonight.”
Cassie moved to her boot and took out her briefcase. “Don’t worry about it. He won’t use it unless I say so, and I won’t.”
“This isn’t a fucking setup, is it?”
She placed a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “I swear to you, it’s him I’m after. Come on.” She shut the boot then walked towards a swaying Jason, her irritation building the closer she got. The lights being on without blackout blinds drawn was enough to piss her off, alerting people driving by to the fact the squat was in use, but his indignant expression meant he’d get harsher treatment.
“What’s Jimmy doing here?” Jason slurred.
“You should know, you recorded him tonight and sent it to me.”
Jason blinked a few times. “I did?”
“Yes, I assume you ranting on about taking over the Barrington was your way of getting him to trust you. Nice move.”
Jason straightened his jacket, chuffed with himself. “Well, yeah, I have my ways of getting information.”
“Jimmy here has come for a lesson, his warning, and next time I bring him here, he won’t come back out alive. He understands the rules.”
Jason laughed, throwing his head back. “Fucking priceless.”
“In we go then.” Cassie waited, impatient, for Jason to compose himself.
He entered the squat, tripping over the threshold, and steadied himself on the hallway wall. He was that drunk he hadn’t even noticed the blood on her face.
“Stay in the living room doorway for a bit,” Cassie whispered to Jimmy. “I don’t want you getting hurt. But watch and learn.”
She walked inside, Jason in the living room now. He paced by the window, the twat, in full view if anyone drove past.
“Shut that bloody blind,” she snapped.
He fumbled with it, so she put her briefcase on top of an old bookcase and opened it. Along with her whip, which still had Karen’s flesh on it, were a pair of handcuffs and a large square of rag. Jason still farted about with the blind, so she took advantage of him having his back to her and walked over there, reached up, and snapped one circlet of the cuff on his wrist. She’d grabbed his other arm by the time he’d twigged. Another snap of the cuff, and his hands dangled over his arse.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Balance shot, he lurched forward and banged his head on the edge of the window recess.
Cassie stepped back and took her weapon out, hiding it behind her back. “Jason, go and stand in the usual corner.”
He turned, his cheeks ruddy, and bared his teeth. “Get these things off me.”
“I said, go and stand in the corner.”
“Fuck you.”
She flashed her whip out, and it landed on his face in a diagonal, spikes sticking into his nose and chin, another perilously close to his upper eyelid. He screamed. She tugged downwards, the skin splitting.
“I can yank this away now or you can go and stand in the corner like I asked.”
He growled, blood streaking down to his jawline, and pushed himself into the left-hand corner opposite the door. “You fucking mad bitch. You’ve lost it good and proper this time.”
Cassie tugged.
Jason screamed again.
“Jimmy, would you mind shutting that blind then going back to the door?”
Panting, eyes bulging, Jason snarled, “So he’s your right hand now, is that it?”
“No, just a grass and babysitter. I’m teetering between getting Glen back or asking Doreen Prince to help me out.”
Jason laughed, watching Jimmy move to the doorway. “Doreen? You really have lost it.”
“That’s none of your concern. So, all these anti-depressants you were going to feed me and Mam. Who’s the supplier?”
“Piss off.”
“You don’t want to talk?” Cassie tilted her head. “Fine.”
She yanked the whip off, ignoring Jason’s screeching, and lashed it at him again and again, aiming for his face every time. She kept on, never letting up between strikes in case he tried to get away. His drunkenness combined with the pain must have kept him in place, the only reaction him trying to deflect the barbs by dipping his head, but the end of the whip snaked around to attach itself to his scalp. His lack of giving her a mouthful angered her, she wanted a dead good argument, but there was one thing she could do to set him off. She ripped the barbs from his head and biceps and waited for him to calm down.
So much blood, so many holes and rips. Both his top eyelids had been torn away, one side of a nostril missing, and half of his bottom lip flapped down. He only had one eyebrow.
“You’re such a prick, Jason.”
He roared and charged at her, headfirst, aiming to butt her. She sidestepped, and he flew forward, cracking his head on the opposite wall. He rebounded, landing on his arse, breathing heavy, his shoulders rising with each inhale. He tried to blink blood away, but with no eyelids, it dribbled over his irises.
“You’re a bidge,” he said.
“Was that bitch? It must be hard to speak with that ripped lip. I’ll fix it for you, then we can talk.” She ignored Jimmy’s “Fuck me sideways” and placed her whip back in the briefcase. From a pouch in the side, she took a sewing kit out, removing the fattest needle, and
