How the Wired Weep by Ian Patrick

Author:Ian Patrick [Patrick, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-18T22:00:00+00:00

Next mornin’ she still ain’t speakin’ to me. She’d stayed downstairs all night, so I had her bed all to me-self. I slept like a baby. I try Ghost’s number but his phone’s off. He’s either out and not turned it on or he’s lost it to Five-O.

I don’t wake her as I creep down, just go past and look at her lying there drooling like a bulldog. I can’t believe she’s havin’ my kid.

Until it’s all DNA’d an’ that I ain’t believin’ her. She could have been screwin’ loads of blokes when I was away despite all she’s said to link me into it. It was a one-night stand that was all. I was stoned and could barely get it up. It’s all bullshit, gotta be.

It ain’t that I don’t care about her, because I do. She stuck by me through some bad times. When I was banged up, she visited me twice then stopped. She wrote, but I needed someone to read them to me and I didn’t want that. I just don’t wanna be tied down at this time in my life. I’ve gotta feelin’ big things are gonna happen for me now and I can’t have no ankle biter wantin’ me all the time. I’ll see her right though. I always do even when I sound off at her and make threats an’ that. She knows I ain’t gonna do nothin’ to her. Anyways I need her gaff when it’s good to lie low. I know Troy says he knows where I live but he ain’t who I’m bothered about, it’s the filth. I don’t need them on my doorstep.

I grab my pushbike from her kitchen and get out the back. I know where I’m headin’ and take side streets and alleys to stay away from the main roads. Police always stop me, always, and this is heavy shit I’m carryin’. I get into the park. I cycle over to the main bushes and look around. It’s quiet as it’s early. I tip the piece out under the hedge and kick some leaves and dirt over it so it can’t be seen. The bag I ditch in a roadside skip.

Now it’s breakfast. Man’s gotta eat while he works. I find a local cafe where we sometimes hang out and order a full breakfast. I’m flush and fuckin’ starvin’. The Turk owner knows me. He knows I pay when I turn up and don’t do a runner once I’ve finished. I check my phone. No calls yet. It’s before twelve so ain’t anyone up. I text Ed though: Bell me.

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