Free Persona - A Disturbing Psychological Thriller by Marc Horn Page B

did.’
    Jenny was staring into space. ‘He was a pervert, I suppose. He might have done more if you hadn’t been there.’
    ‘Exactly. I think I went too light on him, personally.’
    She lifted her drink and shuffled back in her seat. ‘I certainly feel safe with you, I’ll admit that.’
    ‘But you won’t admit how you feel about me yet?’
    She closed her eyes for a second. ‘Not on a first date.’
    He grinned. ‘Yeah, I’ll give you that. I’m a bit too honest.’
    ‘Honesty’s good, but you don’t really know me yet. Would you lend money to a bloke you’d met two or three times?’
    ‘If I knew where to find him.’
    Jenny laughed. ‘You think you’re so tough, don’t you? Just because you floored a drunk boy, that doesn’t prove you’re tough.’
    ‘True. So to you I might just be brave.’
    ‘Brave and aggressive.’
    ‘You have to be aggressive in a fight.’
    Jenny held his stare. ‘Fighting doesn’t impress me.’
    ‘I know. But it’s been a big part of my life.’
    ‘Why?’ she asked quietly.
    ‘That’s another story for another time. This is the just the first date, remember?’

 
     
    15
     
    Ryan had always been a hard man. If anyone pushed him too far, they’d regret it for a long time. Sometimes, they’d regret it forever.
    One night, about eight years ago, Dave and him were in The Whiphand, an underground pub in a run-down part of north London. Dark enough to hide blemishes, the pub smelled damp and musty, and sawdust covered its floor. The bar staff wore black and purple colours and had silver studs pinned in their faces.
    Ryan and Dave had stumbled into three girls and two blokes. Ryan recalled the conversation…
    ‘What do you two do?’ the first bloke asked him.
    ‘I’m a warehouse manager.’ He winked at the girls and nodded towards Dave. ‘He’s a police constable!’
    Dave blushed. Ryan smirked - he couldn’t resist telling them. He knew Dave liked to conceal his profession from people when he went out. He’d told Ryan there were two reasons for this – First, he didn’t want to be volunteered to deal with any difficult situations because that would effectively place him on duty drunk, which was a disciplinary offence. Second, everyone had a grudge against the police, and he didn’t want to spend his evening off arguing with some slag about police procedure.
    The truth, Ryan decided, was that despite his position, Dave hated confrontation. He was a weedy man with no muscle mass - a physical joke. Furthermore, he had no aggression to assist him. And while he thought about it, although Dave would cite his tolerance and intellect as a defence, he was an irritating bastard at times, and these qualities served nothing more than to patronise and incite. Fuck, at times he felt like lamping Dave himself.
    ‘Yeah?’ grunted bloke two threateningly. He was over six feet, scrawny, unshaven, with greasy brown hair hanging by his shoulders. ‘Show Emma your truncheon, cunt-stubble .’
    Ryan tensed up. He’d called Dave a cunt. That was forbidden.
    ‘Yeah, yeah, heard it all before,’ Dave said. ‘Ten points for originality.’
    Ryan glared at Dave. ‘Yeah, you cunt ,’ he shouted to him. ‘Let’s see your fucking truncheon.’ He clenched his fists. ‘I hate the police!’
    Dave looked at Ryan in disbelief. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
    ‘Listen to him!’ Ryan shook his head at bloke two. ‘Typical pig – thinks he’s feared, thinks he’s tough. Looks at us like we’re all shit.’
    Full of Dutch courage, bloke two’s aggression escalated. ‘Ain’t got your back-up now, ’ave yer? It took ten of you fuckers to bring me down!’ He pointed his finger at Dave. ‘You’re all faggots. None of you can fucking fight!’
    Dave shook his head. ‘I presume the crack cocaine gave you strength?’
    Bloke two lunged towards Dave. Ryan immobilised him before he made contact by grabbing his arms and then whispered in his ear, ‘Come