As he walked through the streets towards the terraced house where he would find Charlie Dodds and hopefully a gun, Skinny found himself more than a little uneasy and still shaking from the events of the previous evening. But then, he justified, anyone would feel the same if somebody had come after them with a sword. What kind of person did that anyway? He didn’t like it.
Things like this made him nervous. Ezra was dead – cut in two pieces -, Mickey was acting funny and Baby was going round swinging swords and then buying toffee apples. The only ones acting normally were Sydney and Sweets. He should have left ages ago, gone to work somewhere he didn’t get treated like shit and didn’t get his balls squeezed. He hadn’t been lying; just because he didn’t want children now didn’t mean anything and he might want to have kids one day. It had been bad enough when all he had to deal with was his piss being black from Sweets’ pills and Baby squeezing his balls. Now, the boss was in two pieces, Silver Johnny was missing, Mickey was acting funny and Baby was even crazier than normal.
He didn’t like it when things changed – it didn’t sit right with him and it just made him more confused than he already was. It was the people at the club that confused him or two of them at least. Sydney and Sweets were easy enough to deal with – what you saw was what you got and Skinny liked that. He had never had much to do with the Kid or Ezra even before the former had gone missing and the latter had ended up in a couple of bins. It was Mickey and Baby that confused him; he just couldn’t figure out how he felt about either of them.
He thought he had Mickey sorted out. Mickey was the easier of the two. He wanted to be Mickey or at least he thought he did. Mickey had power. That’s how it appeared to Skinny and he was fairly certain that that was the truth as well. Ezra had done well for himself but Mickey was probably the real power behind the club. If he weren’t ill last night he would have been sat in on that meeting. Everyone knew that when Ezra retired, or died as he now had, then it would be Mickey who took over the club, not Baby. Baby might be Ezra’s son and he might think that he would get the club but he wouldn’t. It would go to Mickey. Yeah, that’s what Skinny wanted for himself. A nice little set up like Mickey with a club of his own and nobody grabbing his balls.
And that, of course, left Baby. Skinny couldn’t work out if he hated the man or if he did, as Baby so often claimed, loved him. And how fucked was that? Thinking that you might love someone who regularly grabbed your balls and who had threatened you with a fucking sword. It wasn’t normal. But then neither was Baby. Really, he supposed none of them were really normal, popping pills as they did but Baby was really fucked up. Everybody knew about what Ezra had done to him as a kid and of course that had fucked him up – it would fuck anyone up – but Baby was a proper psycho.
And none of that explained why Skinny liked him so much. He should hate him. If he did truly hate Baby then he would have left the club the first time that he had threatened to. Only, that was a long time ago and he’d threatened more than a few times since then. He never followed through though because inevitably, even though Baby was the reason he threatened to leave, in the end Baby was the reason that he stayed. He had bought the trousers from Monkeytown because they were identical to Baby’s and maybe, just maybe, he had wanted Baby to notice. Last night, when Baby had been threatening him with the sword he had also been grinding against Skinny, actual grinding like the easier girls did on the dance floor of the club, and kissed his neck and Skinny had had to try so desperately hard not to get a hard-on because everybody would have seen it. Of course, the whole sword thing had helped with that. And then Baby, the fucker, had sat on that desk as calm as you like mopping his chest with his shirt and then reaching into his trousers and adjusting his cock!
And then the whole toffee apple thing! And going on about Skinny kissing his pegs and wanting Baby to stick his cock in Skinny’s ear. Okay, he could probably admit it, at least to himself. There were other things that he would much rather kiss. Kiss my pegs indeed.