Johnny

         Johnny no, stop!" she yelled grabbing him by the arm as he turned to leave.
         "Leave go of me." he shoved her backwards knocking the woman off balance. She fell to the floor in front of the sofa.
         "Please Johnny." she began to plead, her voice small and whiney.
         "Denise, I have to. I can't let this go." he had made up his mind.
         "But you'll get into trouble, he won't let you get away with it." she still looked up at him from her perch on the floor shaking her head.
         "I may go to jail, but it's worth it." He turned and left the room, his footfalls heavy on the lino. She heard him grab his coat in a flurry and then the door slammed with a tremendous thud which shook the door frame.
Denise burst into a flood of tears. Her whole body shook as she sobbed knowing that she may never see Johnny again. She had to see him again. He was the love of her life. He had to come back.


         "You!" Johnny's voice could be heard echoing around the empty dock. The night had crept in and the moon highlighted the second man's face, showed his fear. He searched frantically looking for Johnny but didn't see him until it was too late. Johnny flew into him knocking him to the old wooden boards. There he pinned him, his whole weight resting on the second man.
         "Johnny, Johnny, it wasn't me!" the man pleaded, his head the only part of his body he was able to move.
         "Shut it." Johnny's fist crashed into the side of Marco's face. His head flew sideways, blood and spittle flying from his mouth. Marco heeded the advice wisely.
         "Why would you do it? Why would you frame me?" Johnny's voice changed, some of the fury lost, replaced with hurt. "You're my friend, my man. I trusted you."
         "I never meant to, he made me."
         "Who made you?"
         "Dom. He said if I didn't he'd kill my wife."
         Johnny paused looking down at one of the men he'd known all of his life. He was telling the truth, he could see the fear in Marco's face, tears forming at the corner of his eyes.
         Without a word Johnny pushed himself up, holding out a hand for his friend. Marco took it without hesitation and was standing face to face with Johnny.
         "Where is he?"
         "Headquarters, last I heard."
         With a curt nod that said everything at once, Johnny jumped into his car, squealing away in a haze of frenzy.


         "I knew you'd come." Dom whirled on his chair to face the man before his desk. "So, Marco spoke."
         "I made Marco talk. He told me you threatened his wife." Johnny moved forward menacingly.
         "I did what was needed."
         "Like asking him to frame me for a murder?"
         "Johnny," Dom pushed his chair back from the desk and stood, casually strolling around the side of the desk. "You have to understand that I couldn't be implicated in another murder."
         "So you frame me? You kill the sister of my woman after one of your parties goes bad and try to frame me. You don't think that has implications?" he leaned forward, face to face with the man who had been his boss for most of his life.
          "Sure it does," Dom shrugged. "Just not for me."
         In an unexpected heartbeat Johnny once again raised his fist and slugged Dom. Dom stumbled, falling into his solid oak desk, hand clutching his face. He looked up at Johnny, disbelief on his round face.
         "How dare you!" The older man bellowed, his face growing red with anger as he straightened up.
         Johnny hit him again. And again. And again. Until Dom was lying on the floor, his face puffy and swollen, a welt on his lip bleeding onto the beige carpet.
         Johnny stood over the man who had sheltered him for years, who had protected him, who had taught him the business. The man who had abused his power and hurt and killed those around him as though he was swatting flies. The man who had framed Johnny for the murder of his fiance's sister after his session with her and the boys got out of hand.
         He wouldn't be able to trust him, ever. And neither would Dom ever forget what dishonour had been done to him by Johnny's hand. There was only one thing for it.
         Quick as a hare Johnny moved behind the desk, deftly locating the hidden Glock with his hand. The one he'd seen so many people threatened with, so many murdered in cold blood. It seemed that after picking up the gun he moved slowly, as though he were trudging through knee-deep sludge, back to Dom who was slowly bringing himself around.
         His eyes bulged as he saw what Johnny held in his hand.
         "Johnny, no! We can forget all of this!" The old man pleaded for his life.
         Knowing that the words were lies and that both him and Denise would be made to regret his choices, he cocked the gun and raised it in his hand, aiming at Dom's head.
         "Johnny, noooooo!"
         He pulled the trigger. He saw and felt the mess before he heard the shot. His former boss's brains were splattered on the plush carpet beneath him, on his shoes, his jeans. He knew there was no chance of cleaning it up. Wiping the gun clean of his fingerprints with haste he dropped it beside the old man and hurried from the room, knowing a quick escape was his only chance to live.


         Back at the flat the phone rang. Denise answered on the second ring.
         "Baby, it's me." Johnny's voice echoed down the phone.
         "Oh my God Johnny are you alright?" she was near hysterical.
         "Denise, pack a bag. We're leaving."
         "Leaving? But…"
         "Just do it."
         The phone went dead. Denise set to work knowing she would follow her man.