For An Eye - PAPERBACK - Detective Loxley Crime Thriller Book 3

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1

Wary of the shadows and darkness all around him, Gavin walked home with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets and his collar up high. He hated being out this late, walking along the edge of Nottingham’s Forest Fields estate, making his way home along Sherwood Rise before bearing left into Mapperley Park.
But tonight he had an errand to run.
He thought back to the message his mum had sent him, asking him to pick up a few things. He’d said yes, but he regretted agreeing to it now.
At the next junction, he paused as he looked right, glaring up the street into Forest Fields with its line of terrace houses. When he closed his eyes, he got flashes of that night a year ago, and the only clue he had to where they’d taken him. Was it here, or one of the countless other urban spaces that looked just like this?
A few hundred metres up the street, he could see the corner shop, sitting there, waiting for him. Outside, a small group of people were standing and talking. The sight of them sent a chill down his spine.
As he watched, they moved off and rounded the corner, disappearing behind the shop.
Setting off up the side street, Gavin adjusted the tight grip he had on the item he kept in his pocket. Its presence made him feel safe and secure, confident that if anything bad should happen, there was a chance he could get himself out of it.
Christ. If his dad only knew, he’d go crazy.
But he’d not seen his dad in days, not since the weekend. He’d been spending most of his time at his mum's. She fussed around him as usual, constantly annoying him and asking him to cheer up.
She didn’t know, but that was for the best. She didn’t need to know.
Gavin shook his head to banish the dark thoughts from his mind. It had been a year since the incident, since he’d seen a new side to his father. It really was time to let it go. There was no need to wallow in it, not now he was getting along so well with his dad and Justine. Things seemed to finally be returning to normal. Better than normal, actually. He’d never got on so well with his dad’s girlfriend as he was now. She was kinda fun, actually.
As he walked along the path, the glow from the shop spilt across the street up ahead, announcing its presence, reminding him where he was. He hoped it was empty. He hoped the kids he’d seen moments earlier had disappeared.
Gavin gripped the item in his pocket and chewed on his lip, his eyes scanning the street, peering into the shadows, scouring for anyone he needed to avoid.
He would never be a victim again, not like that. No way. He’d fight like a demon to make sure it never happened again.
The events of that fateful night a year ago were affecting his mood. His mother had noticed, but there was little he could do about it. Hell, it would be weird if his temperament hadn’t been affected.
No one should have to go through that… ever.
He sighed as he gazed up the street. It would only be a quick stop, and then he could head back the way he’d come and make for greener pastures.
Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Gavin woke it with a deft tap against the fingerprint reader on the back and opened WhatsApp.
His mother’s message sat at the bottom of the screen, asking him to pick up milk, bread, cereal and something for himself on his way home.
He ran through the list again, committing it to memory, and started to ponder which bar of chocolate he fancied.
Reaching the shop, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Behind the nearby counter to his left, a radio played. He could hear voices deeper in, but he paid them no mind and focused on his task.
In and out.
Just grab what his mum wanted and set off home. Easy.
Wandering up one aisle, he heard the voices erupt in laughter. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, but he found little humour in it. Instead, the tone sounded mocking, and for a brief moment, he was back in that room, surrounded by shadows laughing at his pain.
He banished that image and browsed the bread, picking a ‘best of both’ loaf and pulling it from the shelf. One down, he thought to himself. He needed to find the cereal, but that aisle was further in, closer to the voices.
A ripple of anxious fear fell over him.
He took a steadying breath and pushed deeper and closer to the voices. Rounding a corner, he looked up a long aisle. Towards the back, close to the fridges, a group of four teens laughed and talked as they picked items off a shelf.
Gavin wasn’t really interested in what they had to say and instead noted with worry that the cereal was up there. He didn’t like the idea of putting himself in their field of view, but there was no other option.
Between him and the youths, a woman in her thirties or forties was doing her shopping while trying to ignore the small gang…
Gang.
The word trigged those unwanted memories and set his mind racing.
They wouldn’t be… Would they?
They couldn’t be part of that same gang? Surely not.
No, that was silly. He was letting his mind run away with him and seeing ghosts where there were none. He needed to get a grip.
Ahead, the woman looked up as he rounded the corner. Their eyes met, and she gave him a brief smile. He saw so much in that short expression. He saw the concern she had about the group further up and their antics. He saw the surprise and worry that he, a young man, had appeared on her other side. At first, she looked pleased that someone had joined her, but that look had lasted barely a moment before it was replaced by concern.
He smiled back at her, wanting to ease her concerns, trying to let her know that he wasn’t a part of that group. But he wasn’t sure she got it.
Looking past the woman at the laughing hyenas further along, he pushed his hand into this jacket pocket and fingered the item he concealed there.
His last line of defence.
After a brief moment of hesitation, he walked towards the cereal, between the shelving that hemmed them in on either side.
The woman looked up again, saw him coming, saw his hand in his jacket pocket, and looked away. She picked up the packet she’d been pondering and strode towards the youths with her head down.
Was she that worried about him? Did he scare her that much?
Gavin stopped at the cereal, only briefly looking at the gaudy boxes before sneaking a glance at the retreating woman.
She approached the group, aiming to slip by.
“Alright, love? Fancy a nice meaty sausage? I’ve got a lovely girthy one for yeh ‘ere.” He waved a Pepperoni at her.
The woman ignored their comments with barely a glance as the other three laughed. Surprisingly, the group was half female, and the girls seemed to enjoy the woman’s discomfort as much as the guys did.
Their callous disregard for her feelings concerned him, and try as he might, he could not focus on the products before him. The contents of those shelves swam in his vision. He couldn't focus on anything. What was he looking for? Cereal? Cornflakes?
It was no use. No matter what he did, all he could think about was what was going on just a few short metres away.
But as he watched, the woman slipped by the group while the mouthy one continued to vocalise what he’d like to do to her. It was disgusting, and he felt sorry for her. Why should she have to put up with that shit when she only wanted to pick up a few things from the shop. She probably had a husband and kids waiting for her at home.
How would they feel, knowing she’d been treated like this?
As he watched, one of the girls turned, and for a terrifying moment, she locked eyes with him as she laughed.
Filled with sudden mind-numbing panic, he looked away.
Don’t see me. Don’t notice me.
He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in for her to ignore him as he furiously browsed the shelves, trying to find the cereal he liked.
It wasn’t here. He couldn’t see it.
Don’t notice me.
He looked back. She was still looking at him, and she wasn’t laughing anymore. They locked eyes again, and it took him far too long to look away.
What the fuck are you doing? Don’t look at her. Don’t attract her attention!
“What you lookin’ at, twat-face?” Her voice was a little deeper than he’d expected? Was she putting it on, trying to make herself sound powerful?
Gavin stared at the suddenly intensely interesting products on the shelf without really registering what he was looking at. He felt paralysed.
“Oi, fucker, I’m talking to you.”
She came stalking toward him. He could see her out of the corner of his eye as she approached, her gait full of swagger and self-confidence. He stuffed his hand in his pocket and gripped the item.
No, he mustn’t.
He withdrew his hand again.
“You listening to me?” she asked, closing the last couple of metres.
Clearly not.
“I said, are you listening to me?” She was right beside him now, leaning in, her hands on her hips, her feet planted wide. Behind her, the other three closed in.
There was no avoiding this. “Um, no. Sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Didn’t mean what? Eh? Didn’t mean what?”
“I’m sorry, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Gavin said and moved to turn and walk away, but the mouthy one stepped in his way. Beyond him, he noticed the woman had rushed to the counter to pay for her stuff.
At least she was getting out of here.
“She asked you a question, idiot,” the mouthy guy said.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble.” He should have walked away. He should have got out of there as quick as he could, and he should definitely not have looked at them.
Why did he look at them? Why on earth did he do that?
His mind raced as he desperately searched for any way out of this. What were they trying to do? What was their goal and what were they trying to achieve? Was it purely out of boredom? Did they get some kind of perverse enjoyment out of this?
He knew better than most how some people seemed to revel in this kind of mental torture, but here, in a shop?
“What if we do want some trouble, aye?” the girl asked. “Maybe you’re the kind of trouble we’re looking for? What about that?”
He needed to get out of here. This was already threatening to spiral well out of control, and…
“We’ve got some friends who’d love to meet you,” the mouthy guy said, cutting him off and snapping Gavin’s attention to him.
Were they part of that same group? Was it not over?
No. No, he couldn’t do this again.
He couldn’t.
With his mind in a feverish cycle of terror, Gavin tried to push past and get away.
He didn’t get there. Someone grabbed him from behind, and suddenly he was on the street a year ago, being dragged into that van.
Stuffing his hand into his pocket, he withdrew the handle, and pressed the button on it as he turned, seeing nothing but the dark interior of that van, and the pain that followed.
Except this time, he could do something about it.
Someone screamed.
He was back in the shop. The girl's face was a picture of shock, with her mouth and eyes open wide. Something warm and wet covered his hand as the girl dropped. She fell to her knees as he watched. For a moment, he couldn’t hear anything. It was just him and the girl as she stared up at him, her mouth a great O on her face.
“You fuckin’ stabbed her,” one of the others cried.
“You bastard!”
“Do something.”
“Call an ambulance!”
“I ain’t calling no fuckin’ ambo. I don’t want the pigs ‘ere.”
“Do it, she’ll die.”
“It’s this fuckers fault. I’m gonna fucking kill ‘im.”
The words came quick in a babble of scared voices. Pain exploded on the side of his head, and he fell, landing on the shelves as a flurry of kicks and punches rained in.
Gavin yelled and screamed. He heard shouting nearby as the two guys hit him again and again. Pain filled his world as their attacks hit home, and he was back in that room again, a year ago, wondering if this would be the end for him.
He still clutched the flick knife, unable to drop it but equally unable to use it.
Had he actually stabbed her? Had that been him?
The punches and kicks stopped as a new voice joined the fray. A glance up from the floor rewarded him with a view of the shopkeeper chasing the two guys away with a cricket bat.
Not really its intended use, but a good one nonetheless.
Gavin curled into the foetal position and squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. He’d be bruised where they’d kicked him, but he didn’t think anything was broken.
Maybe he’d be okay? He’d survived and hadn’t been dragged into another van. For a giddy moment, he was happy.
The girl beside him groaned.
“You bastard, you fucking bastard. What have you done to her? Oh my god, Kelly. It’s okay. We’ll get you help, I promise. You’ll be fine, just hang in there.”
Gavin turned and pushed himself up. Beside him on the floor, the girl who’d confronted him lay on her side, her hands pressed against her belly as she stared into nothingness.
There was blood everywhere.
For a brief, mad second, he considered running. If he ran now, he could maybe escape. They didn’t know him. This wasn’t somewhere he visited regularly. He was only here because his friend wanted to meet at a pub on Nottingham Road.
Now he wished he’d pressed to meet elsewhere, closer to home, and never come here.
But that was wishful thinking. He heard the shopkeeper on the phone, calling for help, and he could hear the stabbed girl’s friend switching between comforting her and insulting him.
But all Gavin could focus on was the blood.
There was just so much of it.