Flesh bargain a tale of.., p.1
Flesh Bargain: A Tale of Horror & Suspense, page 1
FLESH BARGAIN
CURSED MANUSCRIPTS
BOOK 7
IAIN ROB WRIGHT
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VISIT THE BACK OF THE BOOK FOR DETAILS.
To my wonderful readers, for sticking by me when I needed them most.
With my greatest thanks to the following:
Suzy Tadlock
Marie Warnquist
Anthony Wilkins
Paula Bruce
Murder Shrimp
Ruth Witcomb
Andrea Oakes
Francis Keenan
Michael Greer
Angela Rees
Philip Clements
Elaine Anderson
KT Morrison
Trudy Meiser
Tracy Burrows
Steph Brown
Julie Adams
Richard Keeble
Sue Jones
Bridgett Duffus
RynoTheAlbinoRhyno
Susan Hall
Marci J Green
Julie McWhorter
Julian White
Wendy Daniel
Fear kitty
Renee Master
Mike Waldinger
Lola Wayne
Sarah Crossland
Lanie Evans
Lorraine Wilson
Sue Newhouse
Dominic Harris
Lindsay Carter
Rach Kinsella Chippendale
Leonard Ducharme
Jonathan & Tonia Cornell
Rigby Jackson
Carmen Hammond
Katrice Tuck
Minnis Hendricks
Kelli Herrera
Terrie-Ann Thulborn
Darrion Mika
Suzy Tadlock
Gillian Moon
Armando Llerena
Stephanie Everett
Ali Black
Angela Richards
Adrianne Yang
Angelica Maria
Kristina Goeke
Andrew Moss
Emma Bailey
Xya Marie
Leona Overton
Susan Hayden
Jennifer Holston
Roy Oswald
Chris Aitchison
Catherine Healy
Carol Wicklund
Lawrence Clamons
Mark Pearson
Dabney Arch
Tracy Putland
Tracey Newman
David Greer
Sandra Lewis
Windi LaBounta
Stephanie Hardy
Janet Carter
Lauren Brigham
Clare Lanes
Cindy Ahlgren
John Best
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
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About Iain Rob Wright
CHAPTER
ONE
Jake slammed the car door and stood at the end of the path to his family’s new home. The brick wall surrounding the front garden had crumbled in several places, and the grass looked like it hadn’t been cut in years. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed.
“This is horrible,” said Lily, Jake’s fifteen-year-old daughter and constant fount of positivity. Her face scrunched up and her arms flapped about like she was about to throw up. “I can’t live here. Seriously. My veins are literally filling up with misery just looking at it.”
Jake wiped his brow with his beanie hat and stuffed it into his jeans pocket. True, the three-bed terrace in the economically stagnant town of Heathskil was several steps down from their former semi in Bournville, but they needed to accept reality. This was home. At least for a while.
Jake’s wife, Maggie, wrapped her arm around his waist and squeezed lovingly. “It’s fine,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. “As long as we’re together, what does it matter where we live?”
“It matters,” said Lily, swooping her pink-streaked blonde hair behind her. “Everyone at school’s gonna think we’re a bunch of tramps. I mean it. I can’t live here. It’s horrible. Do you want me to kill myself? Because I will. You’ll find me with my face in the toaster. In a bathtub. Underneath a bridge.”
Maggie put her hands on her hipbones and scowled. “Lily! That’s a terrible thing to say. Don’t be so dramatic. And nonsensical! How would you get your face in a toaster?”
“I’ll find a way.”
Jake tilted his head at his daughter and let out a long sigh. “So what’s your plan, Lil? You going to live on the streets, or rent some place by yourself? Best get a paper round if that’s the case.”
Her reply was to fold her arms and look away sullenly. It had been her default response to most things since turning twelve. Perhaps, one day, she would smile again, but Jake was fast losing hope.
Maggie went and gave Lily a hug. “Come on, honey, you know your dad, he’ll make this the nicest house on the block.”
“Great. We can be fancy tramps then. Maybe build a barbecue out of umbrellas and wasted potential.” She folded her arms even tighter, closing in on herself like an imploding star of cynicism.
“Enough, young lady,” Maggie warned, evidently realising that getting their daughter to cheer up this afternoon was a losing battle. “You’ve been a right misery all afternoon.”
“All year,” Jake added.
“Here we go.” Lily grumbled. “Let’s all hate on me, as usual. You should have left me at the orphanage.”
“Monkey orphanage,” Jake muttered. “We got you from the monkey orphanage.”
Maggie ignored their banter and rubbed her palms together. “Right, let’s get inside and settled, shall we? No more moaning or complaining. We’ve survived worse than this.”
“But at what cost?” Lily said. “At what unbearable cost, Mum?”
Jake was eager to get inside the house too. He’d parked their black Nissan X-Trail on the kerb directly in front of the house, but it was full of boxes that wouldn’t unpack themselves. Not only that, he felt oddly exposed out on the street. Watched. Studied.
Unwelcome.
Across the road, sitting on a low brick wall that surrounded the opposite row of terraces, a group of teenagers glowered and snickered like hyenas. Each wore a hoody, while one also had a scarf pulled up over his mouth. It wasn’t exactly a welcoming dress code.
Further down the street, a sinewy old man leaned on a cane, chatting to a stooped-over old woman with a giant orange tote bag and wearing an oversized red puffer jacket. Every few seconds, their eyes would dart in Jake’s direction.
Maggie leaned towards Jake and whispered, “Looks like we’re quite the novelty, huh? Good old nosy neighbours.”
“They’re looking at me.”
They turned to face Emily. The leukaemia had now left her so weak that she needed a wheelchair to get around, and recent weeks had stolen several more pounds from her skeletal frame. Her green eyes had lost their sparkle. Her silky brown hair was gone from months of chemotherapy. But she was alive and still fighting. Their beautiful daughter.
That a seventeen-year-old girl could be so ill made Jake want to scream. That it was his own sweet daughter made him want to sob. Neither would do anything to help Emily. “Let them look,” he said, glaring back at the boys across the street. “They’ve got nothing better to do.”
“Yeah,” said Lily, steadfastly protective of her sister. “Fuck ’em.”
“Lily!” Maggie swatted her gently around the back of the head. “Language!”
“English, how about you?”
Jake sighed. “Let’s do what your mother asked and go inside. Then I can bring the boxes in to unpack.”
“Fine.” Lily rolled her eyes again. “I can hardly wait to see my new room. Does it have a private dressing area.”
“Maybe,” Jake said, and he started up the path.
Without further delay, they all marched, single file, towards their new home. Weeds and long grass brushed against their legs like the unwanted touch of a stranger, causing them to huddle closer together, and while Emily attempted to wheel herself forward, the uneven paving slabs made it too difficult. Lily had to push her all the way to the front door. Jake unlocked it and held it open so that Lily could pull Emily backwards over the step into the hallway.
Their new home’s interior was thankfully less neglected than its exterior, but it was still in need of TLC. While the landlord had given the walls a fresh coat of white paint, the cheap laminate flooring creaked when you walked on it and the skirting boards were scuffed and dirty. As a carpenter, Jake could have fixed it all up, but why provide free house maintenance for a faceless landlord?
“It’s nice,” said Emily, a little out of breath. A bead of sweat ran down from underneath her rose-pat
Jake smiled, thankful for his daughter’s enduring positivity that never seemed to waver. “I’ll build a ramp out front tomorrow,” he said, “and we need to put some pictures on the wall – maybe get a hallway rug – but it’ll do for now. Everything will be back to normal soon.”
Silence fell upon them as they stood there in the cramped hallway. Things would only go back to normal once Emily got better – something all of them prayed for, but none of them could guarantee.
Unwilling to let his mind wander into some dark pasture where everything was cold and hopeless, Jake busied himself by knocking on the walls and gliding a hand over their painted surfaces, checking for imperfections. For the most part, everything seemed solid. Everything seemed—
“Ah, shit!” He pulled his hand back from the hallway wall and put his index finger in his mouth.
Maggie grabbed his arm. “What is it? What did you do?”
He pulled his finger out of his mouth to examine it. A bead of blood slowly emerged, a perfect red circle. “There’s a nail sticking out of the wall. Look!”
Someone had obviously tried to pull a nail out of the wall at some point, but it had snapped, leaving behind a sharp, barely visible spike.
He sucked at his finger again, tasting copper.
Lily pulled a face. “Ew, stop being such a vampire, Dad.”
“It’s my own blood!”
“So what? It’s still gross. It’s like masturbation or something.”
Jake pulled his finger away from his mouth and sighed. “I’ll go get the boxes, shall I? Greg’s bringing the van round in the morning with the rest of our stuff, but we can at least make up the beds tonight and put the kettle on.”
Maggie gave Jake a kiss on the cheek. Her flowery perfume wafted into his nostrils and made him feel calm. It was the same scent she’d worn ever since their first anniversary, when he’d purchased a bottle at random to give to her as a gift. “I’ll put the heating on so Emily doesn’t get cold,” she said.
“I’m okay, Mum.”
“It’s a bit chilly in here, honey. The boiler probably hasn’t been switched on for a while.”
“Or it doesn’t work,” said Lily, grimacing and holding herself as if she dared not touch anything. “I feel unclean. Who lived here before us? Dirty people? Dirty people with nits? And the nits had mini nits?”
Jake and Maggie looked at each other, shaking their heads and chuckling. Teenage girls, such a delight.
As his family went into the kitchen, Jake headed back outside. For a moment, he just stood at the doorstep with his eyes closed, taking several deep breaths of waning summer air.
They deserve better than this. I wanted more for them than this. It’s not fair.
It’s temporary. Only temporary.
It’d been an exhausting day, but there was no time for moping – once he allowed himself to wallow, he often struggled to snap out of it – so he opened his eyes and moved to get the boxes.
The hooded youths from before had crossed the road and were gathered around the back of Jake’s car. The X-Trail had tinted rear windows, but the boot was still clearly full of boxes.
“Can I help you, lads?” Jake asked calmly as he approached. At thirty-eight, he was a fit, athletic man, confident he could handle himself if necessary. These kids planned on intimidating him? Well, they were going to be disappointed.
One youth, the lad with the scarf over his mouth, stepped away from the car and approached Jake. He appeared to be around sixteen or seventeen, but it was hard to know when so much of his face was cloaked in shadow. “Just having a look, mate, innit? You want some help moving in?”
“I’m good. Cheers though.”
“You from round these ends, bruv?”
“Bournville.”
“Why you not stay there, bruv?”
“A few reasons. I won’t bore you with them. You lads all live here on Tovey Avenue?”
“We live about, innit? Man can’t be tied down.”
Jake almost chuckled, not knowing if this lad was being serious or not. “I suppose not,” he said. “Gotta keep them options open.”
“So how old is your daughter, bruv?”
Jake cleared his throat and considered telling the youth to sling his hook, but it was probably better to just play along with his little game. These lads were testing him, seeing how he would react. “Lily’s fourteen. Emily’s seventeen.”
“Which one’s the vegetable on wheels?”
Jake tensed. His stomach flooded with bile. His calm blew away on a hot wind. With a protracted sigh, he had to force himself to keep his cool. “Emily has leukaemia. Pray it doesn’t happen to someone you care about. Anyway, she’s getting better, so she’ll be out of the chair and back to normal before long. Okay?”
The youth nodded. “Maybe I’ll hit her up when she loses the seat then, innit?”
Don’t take the bait; they want to rattle you.
Treat them like adults and maybe they’ll act like it.
“Look, my name’s Jake Penshaw. I’ve had a really rough fucking week, so can we move past the pointless posturing and just shake hands like gentlemen? I got no problem with you lads, so let’s not get off on the wrong foot, right?”
The youth’s eyes narrowed. His friends were slouched against Jake’s car, but they perked up now. This was their entertainment. The lad in front of him was their leader.
“Yeah, bruv, of course. No problem here. Just saying hello, innit?”
“Good, then I’m pleased to meet you.” Jake offered a hand, confident he’d played things the correct way.
Refuse to be a victim and they can’t make you into one.
The two of them shook hands firmly.
The masked youth stared defiantly into Jake’s eyes. “Welcome to the neighbourhood, bruv.”
“Cheers. What’s your name, buddy?”
“Ask around, innit?” The youth yanked hard and pulled Jake off-balance, scoring what he probably thought was a psychological victory. Letting go, he moved back towards his friends, rapping a knuckle against the X-Trail’s rear window as he passed. “See ya later, Jakey boy. Make sure you lock your doors at night, innit? Can get proper sketchy round here.”
Jake shook his head, trying to unclench his jaw. He waited until the lads were gone and then opened up the boot. He carried the boxes inside quickly. It was going to take a lot for Tovey Avenue to ever feel like home.
Dinner ended up being late-night pizza from a takeaway they’d never used before. It tasted fine, but everyone commented how it wasn’t as good as their old place in Bournville.
“I’m full,” said Emily, sliding her plate across the kitchen’s small four-seater table. She’d needed to exit her wheelchair in order to sit around it with everybody else, but the wooden spokes at the back of her chair seemed to cause her pain as she shifted uncomfortably back and forth.
“You’ve only had one slice, sweetie,” Maggie said. Jake’s wife had put her mousy blonde hair up in a bun and rolled the sleeves of her red and black lumberjack shirt past her elbows. It was her typical ‘I’m done for the day’ look. “You sure you won’t be hungry later?”
“I feel a bit sick. Leave a slice in the fridge and I might have it tomorrow.”
“Okay, my love.” Maggie leapt up and put a single pizza slice inside the kitchen’s scuffed white fridge. Lily called dibs on the other slice her sister had left untouched and put it on her own plate. The pizza wasn’t as good as their old place, but it was still pizza.
Before Maggie sat down again, she asked Jake if he wanted a beer, to which he happily replied in the affirmative. “I could murder one. I’m done in after today.”
“Me too. I’m going to pour some wine.”
“Can I have some?” Lily asked, a smirk on her face.
Maggie smirked back, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Now and then they allowed Lily to have a small glass of wine, but they weren’t about to make a habit of it. “No, young lady, you may not.”
“I would have some,” Emily said, tightening her headscarf at the back, “but I’m watching my weight.”
“One sip and you might double it,” Lily quipped, prompting a shared giggle that momentarily lightened the sombre atmosphere inside the kitchen.
Maggie handed Jake a beer from the battered fridge and unscrewed a fresh bottle of white wine, pouring some into a plastic tumbler – their glasses were still buried in a cardboard box somewhere. She plonked herself back down on a creaking wooden chair and took her first sip with a contented sigh.
