Free Breaking Point (The Point Series: Book 2) by Gerard Brennan Page A

Was that what concussion felt like?
    The ground seemed too smooth. And then he was sliding. The darkening sky spun away from him. He bounced. Bounced again. Rolled. This time he really was on tarmac. He could feel every little crack in it. An engine roared. Tony watched a car drive off. He began to figure out what had just happened.
    Brian had run off on him. Again.
    He still couldn't move. The pain was a distant thing. Not complete agony just yet. He knew it was coming, though. Maybe he should just lie there and sleep for a little while. Hopefully when he woke up, he'd be in a hospital bed.
    He drifted.
    And got snatched back to reality.
    Tony felt like he'd been dropped from a plane onto a giant trampoline. His brain rattled about in his skull. He couldn't figure out what way was up. Hands pulled at his cheeks. He opened his eyes.
    An ugly one-eared thug stood over him.
    "Do you know where Brian Morgan lives?"
    Tony stared at the missing ear. The impropriety earned him a couple of slaps.
    "What's Brian Morgan's address?"
    Tony got one arm moving. He pawed at the man. The action did little to improve his situation. He gasped.
    "Yes, yes," Tony said. "I know where he lives. Stop hurting me."
    "Tell me."
    Tony gave up the information gladly. It was the only thing within his power that he could do to the yellow bastard who threw him to the wolves. Twice.
    The man with one ear disappeared. The world pulled up its anchor. Tony retreated into the darkest corner he could find.
    Oblivion.

Go, Go, Go
    ––––––––
    B rian kept the pedal pressed to the mat on the way back to Dundrum. The Toyota's flanks practically heaved with effort. He couldn't stop. The panic would set in. Better to speed. Get the fuck out of there.
    He drove past the Dromara Road, the turn-off for Dundrum.
    Then his mammal brain kicked in. He couldn't leave Rachel behind... Well, he could. But he wouldn't. Fuck's sake.
    Handbrake?
    Fuck no. He hadn't gone on a joyride in years.
    And didn't he hear screaming from the boot?
    No, man. Keep driving. Rachel first. Everything else later.
    He used his mirrors, his indicators, his foot brake. Seven-point turn.
    Realisation hit. Why hadn't he phoned Rachel to tell her to start packing?
    Brian shoved his hand into his hip pocket. Wriggled in the driver's seat to get into a better position. Almost missed the turn-off again.
    "What is wrong with you?" He thumped the steering wheel. Jarred his already aching fist. Took the corner too wide.
    The car's nearside carved a groove in the ditch. Brian wrestled with the steering wheel. Directed the car into the offside ditch. Another wrench and he righted the Toyota. The screamer in the boot had reached fever pitch.
    Fuck.
    One of the headlights was busted.
    He couldn't drive the battered motor all the way to his door. May as well call the cops on himself. He left the car at the side of the road, about fifty yards away from the entrance to his street; jumped out and eased the driver's door shut. The screamer graduated to wailing like a banshee. He'd call in an anonymous tip. Just as soon as he could.
    He ran.

Home Security
    ––––––––
    R achel heard the scrunch-scrunch-scrunch of a hurried approach along the gravel path leading to her door. She took no chances. Opened the upstairs bedroom window and lobbed a dumbbell out onto the front yard. She heard the clank of metal on stones.
    "What the fuck!?"
    It was Brian's voice. But she took the chef's knife with her anyway and moved to the top of the stairs with caution. The front door juddered open.
    "Did you throw that?" Brian asked.
    "Is anybody with you?"
    "No."
    "There's a bag in the living room. Grab it. We're leaving."
    "You've packed?"
    Rachel descended the stairs. "Hurry the fuck up. You've wasted enough time."
    He didn't move. "What's with the knife?"
    "Move now. Talk later." She got closer. Could smell the weed off him. Gave him a shake. "Please, Brian. I need you to get with it."
    "If you'd seen what's