No Going Back by Casey Kelleher

No Going Back by Casey Kelleher

Author:Casey Kelleher [Kelleher, Casey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781800195240
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2021-04-28T16:00:00+00:00


26

Pacing up and down the cold, wet floors of the derelict house that he was currently staying in, Jay-Jay’s head was pounding. He should have been out spending the money from the job the Boland brothers had sent him to do; instead, he was having to cower away here. In this run-down cesspit that, for now, was home.

The only good thing about the place was that there was no electric, and the handful of down-and-outs that he shared the place with weren’t the type of people with access to the TV or internet anyway. So, there’d be no way of them finding out that he was a wanted man.

They were all like him. The forgotten dregs of society that, somehow, along the way had managed to slip through the cracks and end up here. Jay-Jay hadn’t even bothered to enquire what their names were. Because he had no interest in getting to know any of them. A couple of heavy drug users, and an alcoholic. Wasters. The type of people who would sell Jay-Jay out for a packet of fags and a cheap bottle of cider, if they realised that he was worth anything right now. Which of course, he was. There was a manhunt on, and Jay-Jay was top of the wanted list. Fuck!

He sank down on to the piss-stained mattress that he’d been using as a bed. The pain behind his eyes from the stress of his predicament was building intently. He didn’t know what to do. How to get out of this mess. Because if the police caught up with him, they’d send him back to prison, and Jay-Jay wasn’t sure he could take another stint inside.

He wasn’t cut out for being held captive in a tiny cell, caged like an animal. There was something so degrading and demoralising about being locked up, away from the rest of society. And if they sent him down for murder, what would he get? Fifteen, twenty years? Life? Maybe he’d never get back out. The thought of that terrified him.

Placing the palms of his hands over his eye sockets, Jay-Jay hung his head to put pressure on them. Moving his hands in circular motions to try and iron out the pain. Only nothing was working. He couldn’t seem to shake it. He thought about the E-fit that he’d seen flash across the huge television set back at the pub.

How the fuck had Shelby Cooke managed to get such a good look at his face the other night?

He remembered it all, only he couldn’t pinpoint that precise moment when she’d properly seen him. Because he’d been careful, hadn’t he? He’d leant over the balcony and spotted her walking across the communal garden of the Griffin Estate, dragging a small suitcase behind her. And he’d taken his cue. Running down the stairwell in a bid to catch up with her. Determined to do the job he’d been sent to do, so that he could finally get his hands on some decent money.



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