“What?”
Give me that fucking knife, was his first thought.
But it was fleeting, and no real competition to his inherent decency.
Jason instinctively homed in on the cutlery drawer and opened it. He pulled out a long bread knife with a serrated blade.
“Well? Which is it to be?”
Ed regarded him levelly. “You evil cunt.”
“Watch your mouth, mate.”
Ed glanced from his wife to Linda. Both looked terrified. A small part of him revelled in Linda’s suddenly pale complexion.
Yeah, so you should be scared, bitch.
He turned his full attention to his trembling, quietly sobbing wife.
“I hate you.”
She managed the tiniest of smiles which gladdened his heart.
“I hate you too.”
“Enough!” All three of them flinched. “Enough of this fooling around. Let’s get the games started. Jazmine, it’s your turn. You can cut off all four of Linda’s fingers on her right hand with this knife, or you can come over here and give me a kiss.”
Ed saw red.
“You fucking bastard! We’re not playing your sick games anymore.”
“Do you have a death wish Edward? Because I am more than happy to oblige you. I will start with your wife, of course.”
“Ed,” Jaz said softly. “It’s okay, I love you. I don’t want to hurt Linda. I don’t want to hurt anybody. But I love you so much, I’d do it for you.”
“Hey! I’m right here, you fucking bitch.”
Ed ignored Linda’s indignant squawking.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. There isn’t a choice, is there? We both know this. I love you. ”
As he spoke, a plan of action hatched in his mind. A crap one, albeit, but at least it was something. If the bastard was pawing his wife, then he would be vulnerable.
Oh yes, bring it on.
“That’s more like it. Come to Daddy, baby.”
Jaz’s face visibly blanched. She glanced at Ed, as if seeking reassurance. He nodded slightly, imperceptibly. His heart sunk down to his trainers when she went to him.
Jason Jacks grabbed her, drawing her close to him. When the man planted his mouth on hers, Ed felt sick to his stomach. He watched the unfolding, nightmarish scene, tears stinging his eyes.
“I wouldn’t have done that to you,” Linda said. “I’d fucking kill anyone before I’d let another man touch me.”
Her words jolted him out of the stunned trance he had fallen into. Jason Jacks held his wife close and his hands snaked up under her dress, clearly moulding her bare buttocks.
Adrenalin coursed through his body and he acted on it. Rashly. Unthinkingly. Impulsively.
And stupidly.
He threw himself at the man groping his wife and the two men staggered sideways with Ed’s arm around Jason’s neck. Jason’s hip bone cracked into a worktop counter, and Ed, despite being a fair few inches shorter and significantly slighter, managed to crack the hand holding the gun against the work surface so that his fingers uncurled and the gun clattered to the floor.
Jason hissed in pain, completely caught off guard. Ed took full advantage and curled his leg around Jason’s, easily toppling him in the most basic of Judo moves he had learned many years ago off a mate that had been a bouncer.
Jason lay sprawled on his side on the ground, the knife dangling uselessly from his fingers, staring up at Ed in disbelief.
If it hadn’t been for Linda, the whole sorry evening might have ended there. Ed was about to stomp on the man’s stomach. And he wouldn’t have stopped, he felt sure of it. He would have stamped on the bastard over and over until he was beyond screaming for mercy.
As it was, Linda picked up the nearest heavy object, in this case a cast iron wok, and launched it over the back of his head with an almighty crack.
Why she did it, Ed would never understand. Why she would aid the lunatic that had mere seconds ago casually ordered the lopping off of her fingers, was entirely beyond him.
That was his last thought before his knees buckled and he passed out.
“That was really fucking stupid now, wasn’t it?” Jason Jacks said when he came round a few seconds later.
The moment had passed. He had lost. Now he was on the floor and Jason was the one standing, reunited with both the gun and the knife.
Ed went to sit up, the back of his head throbbing like holy fuck.
“Jaz.”
“Ed, oh Ed,” she sobbed.
Ed twisted his head to look up at her and Jason kicked him square in the chest.
“How’d you like it, motherfucker?” he asked as Ed rolled onto his side in the foetal position, pain flaring in his chest and rendering him immobile.
He couldn’t breathe. The pain was so intense he wondered if the blow to his chest had triggered a heart attack. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, praying that the pain would pass.
Thankfully, it did, leaving a dull, throbbing ache in its wake that matched the throb in the back of his skull.
“Stand up, we have a game to play. If you pull a stunt like that again I will slit your wife’s throat. I said up.”
Jason kicked him again, lower this time, just below his ribcage.
Ed bit down the indignant howl and gritted his teeth. He would not let the cunt see his pain.
Shakily, he hauled himself to his feet, clutching the back of a kitchen chair for support.
“Better. Now, the game. Ed, you have a choice to make. Would you rather flay the skin on Linda’s back or let me fuck your wife?”
“I just saved your life, you miserable bastard,” Linda piped up.
Ed noticed for the first time she was still holding the wok, which dangled loosely from her hand. Her expression was indignant, rather than scared, and Ed felt another wave of hatred for her so strong that he had to hold his chest because it made his heart beat painfully hard against his battered sternum.
Jaz looked beseechingly across at him, her eyes red raw from crying and her chest hitching with the silent sobbing that she was doing her best to supress.
“Be quiet, bitch.” Jason admonished. “You agreed to come here tonight.” He turned his attention back to Ed, pointing the gun at him. “It is easier to flay the skin on the back rather than anywhere else on the human body. The back’s solid muscular structure gives good resistance and it is easier to peel off the skin.”
“Fuck you,” Linda said.
Jason stepped towards her and clonked her over the temple with the butt of his gun. Linda half gasped, half wailed, and staggered sideways, the wok clattering to the floor.
“Sit down and shut up.”
Linda glared at him, seemingly struggling with some great, internal debate. She sat down at the kitchen table, her eyes clouded with hurt and pain.
Stupid fucking bitch, this is all your fault.
“Now, Ed, which is it to be? Flay Linda or let me fuck your wife?”
A steely resolve overtook him.
“Give me the fucking knife.”
“Ed! No!”
To his surprise, Ed found his voice was completely calm.
“Yes, baby. I’m not letting that animal touch you.”
“Now just wait one fucking second, don’t I get a say in this?”
Jason laughed. “No.”
“I’ve had enough of this shit,” Linda said, standing up and scraping her chair back. “I’m going home.”
“No, Linda, you’re not. Sit back down right now.”
She hesitated for a second, then sat down again. She gazed pleadingly up at Ed.
“Please, Ed. Don’t hurt me.”