Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
‘Move the van, you stupid fucking cow!’ he bellows at me, waving his arms about.
Oh shit. Kate, hurry up!
‘Who the FUCK is that?’ Jesse yells down the phone.
‘No one,’ I blurt.
Big baldy kicks Margo’s tyre. ‘Move it, bitch!’ Oh hell, he’s a mad middle aged, balding man.
I hear Jesse growl. ‘Tell me he didn’t just say that.’ His voice is sadistic.
‘It’s fine. Kate’s coming now.’ I lie on a squeak.
‘Where are you?’
‘I don’t know, somewhere in Belgravia.’ I didn’t really take much notice. I was too busy being flung around in the back of Margo to take notes of street names.
Big baldy shoves me. ‘Are you fucking deaf, you stupid bitch?’
Oh shit, he’s going to crack me one. I can hear Jesse hyperventilating down the phone, but then he’s gone. I glance at my screen and see the call has ended. Snapping my head up, I look towards the steps that lead to Mrs Link’s house, but the front door is still firmly closed. I’m shoved in the back again by Baldy.
‘Please, give me five minutes.’ I plead with the irate twat. If Kate was here, he would be on his arse by now.
‘Just move the fucking shed, you dopey cow!’ he roars in my face, making me recoil.
I run onto the pavement, stepping on every stray stone on my way, and up the steps to Mrs Link’s front door.
‘Kate!’ I knock frantically, turning and smiling sweetly at Mr Baldy Jag, earning myself another torrent of abuse. This guy needs anger management. ‘Kate!’ I shout, banging again. Car horns are blaring all around, I’ve got the angriest man I’ve ever encountered hurling abuse at me, my arse is sore and my feet are being stabbed by fucking stones! ‘KATE!!!’ My throat is bloody sore now too. But then I have a thought. Has she left the keys in Margo? I gingerly run down the steps, back onto the street to check Margo’s ignition, going around the back to avoid baldy.
It would seem that he’s not so willing to let me evade him, though, and I collide with his fat, sweaty body as I reach the driver’s door. ‘Oh!’ I cry, getting a waft of stale body odour.
He grabs the top of my arm, squeezing hard. ‘If you don’t move that fucking thing now, I’ll slap your skinny arse all over this street.’
I lean back against the van as he tightens his hold on my arm to a point, so painful, I want to cry out. He’s a fucking psycho! I’m going to be bludgeoned on a posh, leafy residential street in posh Belgravia and be plastered all over tomorrow morning’s news. I’m never going to talk to Kate again. I feel my eyes welling up with panicky tears as I’m pinned to the side of Margo with not a clue what to do. This is an aggressive type – a wife beater, for sure.
‘Get your fucking hands off her!’
The roar that pierces the air around me, blocking out all car horns and London traffic, makes my knees buckle with relief. I turn towards the direction of the most welcome voice I’ve ever heard and see Jesse running down the middle of the road, in his suit, looking murderous.
Oh, thank God! I don’t know where he’s come from, and I couldn’t care less. The relief that washes over me is overwhelming. I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life, and the fact that it’s a man I’ve known barely a week should be telling me something.
Mr Baldy Jag’s fat, ugly head snaps up in Jesse’s direction, a deep look of panic instantly invading his sweaty features. I feel his grip ease up. Letting go of me and stepping back from Margo, he starts weighing up the mountain of lean tallness that’s running at full pelt towards us. The intention to scarper is clear on his ugly face. He doesn’t get the chance to, though. Jesse charges him before he sets his short legs to work, taking him clean from his feet and sending him crashing to the tarmac.
My God! I was wrong. Baldy isn’t the angriest man I’ve ever seen. I watch as Jesse’s fist collides with Baldies face before he kicks him in the gut, causing him to cry out.
‘Get off your fat arse and apologise,’ Jesse yanks him up from the road, presenting him to me. ‘Apologise!’ he roars.
I look at Baldy, who’s huffing and puffing, his nose clearly broken, blood dripping down his slimy suit. I would feel sorry for him, if he wasn’t such a nasty bastard. What sort of man does that to a woman?
‘I…I’m s…sorry.’ he stutters, looking completely dazed.
Jesse’s fisted hand in Baldies jacket shakes him. ‘Lay a finger of her again, I’ll rip your fucking head off,’ His voice is menacing. ‘Now, fuck off.’ He shoves the crumpled heap of a man out of his hands and grabs me, yanking me into his chest.