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Back Brutal Save as PDF
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. BRUTAL
  3. Dedication page
  4. Acknowledgements
  5. Prologue
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. PART TWO
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. PART THREE
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. Epilogue
  55. BRUTAL
  56. By Mandasue Heller

As he passed the brothel, an elderly man emerged from the shadows and looked both ways along the road before scuttling away. Guessing that it was a punter who lived locally and was scared of being seen by someone who knew him, Evan shook his head as he walked on. Old geezers like that ought to be at home with their wives, not sneaking around getting their kicks with girls who were young enough to be their granddaughters. But, then, who was to say the bloke’s wife hadn’t died, and this was the only way the poor bastard could get any?

Wondering if that was why his dad had allowed Irena to turn his head so quickly, Evan climbed into his car and lit a cigarette. He hadn’t seen the girls tonight, but he figured they must have been in the van, because he couldn’t see those men driving over here for nothing – and they wouldn’t have had time to stop off on the way to pick them up.

Unsure what to do with that knowledge, Evan glanced round when a shadow crossed the passenger-side window. A man was walking past with the same furtive air about him as the old geezer, and Evan watched as he continued up the road before turning onto the driveway of the brothel. Yanking his keys back out of the ignition when an idea came to him, he hopped out of the car and took a last drag on the cigarette before flicking it away.

28

Frank was lying on top of his bed in his underpants. The heating had been on all day, and sweat was streaming off his body and soaking the duvet beneath him. But there was no way to escape the unbearable heat, because Karel had ordered his men to board his window up to prevent him from climbing out again, and the valve on his ancient radiator had snapped off when he’d tried to adjust it. And, to make matters worse, Irena hadn’t brought him anything to eat or drink today, so he’d been taking rationed sips of whisky to quench his thirst.

The bottle was empty now, and Frank’s mouth was bone dry. Earlier in the afternoon, desperate for the toilet, he’d banged on the door for almost half an hour. Nobody had come, so he’d been forced to relieve himself in an old vase of dried flowers Maureen had kept on the dressing table. Half-full now, the vase was standing in the furthest corner of the room. He’d placed one of his pillows over it in the hope of containing the smell, but it wasn’t working, and the stench of hot piss, combined with the rancid odours of his sweat and sour breath, was almost as unbearable as the heat.