Killing Freedom by Ryan Casey

Author:Ryan Casey [Casey, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Higher Bank Books
Published: 2013-07-17T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

The warmth of the sun against his skin woke him up.

It was unusual to be in a room where real light crept in. He was so accustomed to the artificial glow of the city’s neon lights that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to wake up not surrounded by the darkness of black blinds.

He opened his eyes and jumped back as he saw Mustapha standing by the door, arms folded.

‘Still a lazy fuck, then?’ he said, glancing at his watch.

‘What time is it?’ Jared asked, scrambling around for his clothes.

‘Eight-thirty. You want any breakfast?’

Jared pulled his coat over his shoulders. ‘No. I… I have to go back. I have to get Faith.’

Mustapha sighed and scratched his balding head. ‘She can’t come here, Jared. I’ve made that clear. Now you can go and you can check she’s okay, do whatever you have to do, but you can’t stay here. You see that, right?’

Jared brushed his fingers through his hair. The money. He could give Faith some—warn her away for a while. That would do for now if he could convince her.

‘I need to… I need to get some money to her,’ Jared said. ‘I need her to get out of there because otherwise she’s in big trouble.’

Mustapha brought his hand down on Jared’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. ‘This girl you brought here last night. Is she your lover?’

Jared diverted his eyes to the ground. He’d never thought about things in that sense before. Was he in love with her? Or more in love with the normality of their life? He had a lot of explaining to do. About Brian. About Carl. ‘Just be there for her when she wakes up,’ Jared said, brushing Mustapha’s hand off his shoulder and stepping out of the door.

‘How you planning to get back?’ Mustapha asked.

‘My van. I don’t really have much of a choice.’

‘What, the van with the dead body in it?’

Jared swung back round and stepped up to Mustapha. ‘How do you—’

‘Oh come on, Jared. I watch the news.’

Jared scratched the back of his neck. Mustapha knew. The media were already on to him. They were closing in and Raymond would throw him to the dogs if he didn’t act fast.

‘I need to get rid of the van, somehow,’ Jared said.

‘No need. Had it dealt with this morning. Consider it a favour.’

Fear washed over Jared. The money. He’d left the money inside.

‘Di—did you—’ Jared started.

Almost as if he’d read his mind, Mustapha pushed a black rucksack into his chest. Inside, the envelope of money. ‘I suggest you take more care of your belongings in the future.’ He twirled a cigarette against his lips.

Jared turned to his bed and slipped out a wad of cash. Twenty thousand. Enough for Faith to survive on for a year or two. Or would ten grand be enough? Even split? He couldn’t have her wasting it.

He slipped fifteen thousand into the rucksack and stuffed the envelope with the rest of the cash underneath the bed.

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