“You’re really sure it’s about drugs aren’t you?”
Nigel shrugged. “I don’t know anything for sure. One thing I do know is that if whoever’s out there is looking for a sinner – and that’s not me. I’m a decent, God-fearing man.”
Steph laughed. “Good for you, but I don’t believe anyone’s innocent one hundred per cent. No one’s perfect. It’s where people’s hearts are that matters.”
“That’s a lovely way of seeing the world and it’s no doubt why you’re such a lovely woman.”
“Nigel, you’ll make me blush, you charmer.” She gave him a quick hug around the waist. “I best go check on the others. There are more beers to hand out.”
Nigel laughed. “Vital work, you best get started.”
Steph walked away, leaving Nigel to enjoy the sight of her lithe figure fading into the darkness as she left the candle-light of the bar. He kept his eye on her rump as it wiggled and shifted in her jeans. Nigel felt himself get hard.
Is tonight the night?
Nigel knew how lucky he was to be in the pub tonight. If he was on the road right now he would be fighting hypothermia in the cramped confines of his lorry’s sleeper cabin. He felt even luckier for the opportunity he found before him tonight. The only reason he continued coming to The Trumpet during his days off was to see Steph…or, more truthfully, to stalk her. From the first time he’d seen her alluring presence behind the bar Nigel knew he was going to have her. The more he watched her sexy little ass saunter around the bar, the more certain he became that he needed to have her soon. He’d just been waiting for the right opportunity.
And it’s finally come around.
Tonight was the night. It had to be. The lights were off, the roads were closed, and a group of psychopaths roamed the streets outside. If he did Steph tonight, he could make it look like somebody else’s doing with the slightest of ease. Even if the others were to find out…then he would just have to deal with them. Even if he turned the pub into a blood bath, he could get in his lorry come morning and be a hundred miles away by the time anybody noticed.
Nigel put his hand in his trouser pocket and rubbed at the flick knife pushing against his throbbing erection. He grinned ear to ear.
Yes, my little prize, tonight is most definitely the night.
Chapter Eighteen
“What the hell do we do?”
Harry heard Jess’s voice, but had no answers for her. Peter’s condition was bad, that much was plain to see. He’d remained unconscious since they’d patched him up earlier and his condition had only seemed to get worse since then. His ruined eye was almost certainly lost. Medical attention was desperately needed, but when everyone at the bar tried their mobiles they were met only with static. Steph had found the exact same thing with the pub’s landline. With the snow outside, along with the boy’s attackers, they were stranded, and alone.
“We just need to do the best we can for him, right now,” said Harry. “Then in the morning maybe we can go get help. There’s a main road nearby where we can wait for someone to drive past.” Harry could see the anguish in Jess’s eyes but was powerless to do anything about it. He wasn’t a doctor and could do nothing about the snow either. All the same, he felt like he was letting the poor girl down. Harry just hoped she didn’t see the flaw in his plan: that the main roads were closed and that nobody would be driving by tomorrow, or probably even the next day.
“He’ll be okay,” said Jerry, coming over and placing an arm around her. “We just need to keep him warm.”
Harry watched the two of them walk back to where Peter lay and it dawned on him that his entire body was becoming numb from the cold. The only place in the pub left with any warmth at all was by the fireplace, and that was now taken up by their causality. Harry decided to move over to the bar and joined the others that had gathered there on the stools. Steph was busy handing out fresh beers.
“Got one for me?” he asked her.
Steph smiled. “Sure, Harry, here you go.”
Harry thanked her and took the stool beside Nigel, who himself was sitting next to Lucas, then asked the question that was on his mind: “Say, is anybody else wondering what we’re going to do for warmth now that Peter is taking up the fire?”
Steph winked at him. “Already on it. Damien and Old Graham are down in the cellar looking for anything we could start a fire with. I’m pretty sure I saw a steel barrel down there once, so I was thinking we could stab some holes in it and use it as a furnace.”
Lucas laughed. “This gal is something else, don’t you reckon?”
Harry looked at Steph for a moment and their eyes met. “Yes, Lucas, she most definitely is.”
“You think the kid’s going to snuff it?”
The comment came from Nigel and Harry was taken aback by the man’s harsh wording. “What?”
“I overheard you talking to the girl,” said Nigel. “I could tell by your voice that you don’t hold out much hope.”
The negativity irritated Harry, but he assumed it was only natural in the situation they were all in. “I can’t say for sure – I’m not a doctor – but I know enough to see that the poor lad’s suffered more than anyone ever should.”
“You ever seen anyone in such a state before?” Lucas asked.
Harry conjured up images from his memory but quickly stopped himself. “No, I haven’t,” he lied. “I’ve never seen injuries like it before, which is why I’m not sure if he’ll last the night.”
“Well then,” Lucas replied, “perhaps we should be worrying more about whom – or what – did this to the lad. There’s someone out there looking to do us all harm, and we’ve got enough on our plates with just the weather.”
“I agree,” said Steph from the other side of the bar, still assuming her job role was valid (in a way it probably still was). “I don’t like any of this. I feel like we’re cut off from civilisation. The phones are dead, the electric’s off, we’re freezing our tits off, and we can’t go outside because some madman is knifing people up. I don’t even want to think what the rest of the country is like. I’m starting to get really freaked out.”
“We don’t know there’s a madman outside,” said Harry. “Perhaps Peter made an enemy and they’ve got what they wanted just by hurting him.”
Nigel posed a question that made Harry’s logic falter. “Why throw him through the window?”
“Yeah,” said Steph. “If they wanted to kill Peter they would have been better leaving him to freeze outside in the snow. Throwing him through the window makes it pretty obvious they were trying to frighten everyone in the pub.”
Lucas put his beer down on the bar with a clink! “Maybe it was a message for the sinner,” he said.
“More talk about this bloody sinner,” said Nigel, banging down his own beer on the bar. “Why are we buying into this nonsense? If someone is crazy enough to carve words into someone’s chest then I think it’s fair to say they’ve lost a certain amount of marbles – probably an entire play set.”
“You’re probably right,” Harry admitted. “How would we even know who’s a sinner and who isn’t, anyway?”
“Exactly,” said Nigel, seemingly satisfied.
Steph pushed another recently-thawed beer over to Lucas, who was about to finish his current one. “We already spoke about that,” she mentioned. “Nigel seems to think that it’s all about drugs, and that Damien is the one they want.”
“Well, well, well. Is that right, now?” Damien entered the bar area from a room in the back. Old Graham was stood behind him and seemed to be cringing. Harry cringed too when he realised that Damien had just heard the accusation.