Free Nails In A Coffin (Demi Reynolds Book 1) by Luis Samways Page A

him!
    “Hamish, you wanker,” his boss, Donny the Hat, heckled down the phone. “Meet me down the car park near Chimney Court.”
    “The one near the roundabout?” Hamish asked, stuttering a little. He did that often. The sound of his boss’s voice made him very nervous indeed.
    “Yes, you fat cunt. Just get down here, or I’ll have you for breakfast! You hear?”
    Hamish nodded and then realized his boss wouldn’t see it when Donny said, “Hello?”
    “Yeah, no problem, boss. The car park by the roundabout.”
    “Get there sharpish. No fucking excuses. I want you here as soon as possible!”
    The mobile went dead, and Hamish blinked a few times. The cold air was affecting his eyes. They were stinging. The morning sun was nonexistent, and his boss was already having a go at him. He put the phone in his pocket and got his car keys out. He had no idea why his boss wanted to meet him so badly. Usually he’d show up for work at around 10 a.m. and help load up the lager and beer. Maybe change a few barrels. Then at eleven the pub would open, and he’d be sat outside making sure no rival firm or normal civilians got in. That was his job.
    “Keep the cunts out,” as his boss would eloquently say.
    Hamish walked to his car and hopped in. He turned the key, and the car’s engine sputtered to life. He reversed and made his way to the car park, not knowing what was in store for him.
    He wouldn’t have gone if he knew what lay ahead, that was for sure.
     
     
     
     

Seventeen
     
    Demi estimated that she had been in the back of the hearse for at least two hours now. They had been driving around. At first she thought they were doing it aimlessly. Just cruising around, maybe in circles, trying to get some sort of rise out of her. But they weren’t driving in circles. They were speeding, which meant that they were late for something.
    She knew that her boss Donny had a thing about speeding. He didn’t like doing it. He thought it drew too much attention and it was a stupid thing to do if someone was in the field they were in. So the mere fact that Donny was speeding meant only one thing: Wherever they were headed, they were keen to get there in as little time as possible. Maybe a scrap dealership. They closed at certain times, and if you wanted to get rid of a car, then the scrapyard would be a good bet. But Demi didn’t think they were going to a scrapyard. It just didn’t make sense. Why would he put her in a coffin and drive her around just so he could crush the car and coffin with her in it? Surely it was going to be a little more spectacular than that? Donny was a perfectionist. He wouldn’t waste a good car or a coffin on something that wouldn’t get his message across. He’d much rather make a show of things.
    Demi lay there, breathing hard. The car was swerving left to right. She was still thinking about the things that had gotten her there, tied up and placed in a coffin. The life sequences that had led to her current situation. She believed that everybody made choices in their life that influenced their death, including the victims of murderers. Even assassinated presidents. Nearly everyone played a part in somebody’s fate. It was as easy for some people to wake up one day, go to the kitchen, grab a knife, walk into the bedroom where their lover slept, and slit his or her throat. Everybody had that potential. Everybody on this planet could end someone’s life. But not everybody chooses to do so. Many mask their primal instincts by following religious texts and leading a righteous life, while others do the opposite and denounced all religions. It doesn’t matter who they are or what they stand for — Demi knows that when push comes to shove, most people, given the chance, that is, would strike somebody down in a fit of anger and deceit.
    If somebody did someone else wrong – wrong enough to kill them – then they would do so. It was just how people were. Demi knew that. She knew it all too well.