Tested Boundaries

Billy knew he was done for the moment he stepped into the alley. Mickey and Tony had split off from him just minutes before, each of them carrying a full bag of ill-gotten gains. Sirens screamed out in the distance to echo between the tall buildings and they were drawing closer.

It wasn't Billy that had made the mistake, it wasn't any of them. Both he and his little band of thieves were meticulous in their planning. They were patient and methodical, not a hothead amongst them, and never before had there been a slip up. But tonight… tonight was different.

There was one thing you could never fully plan for and that was people. Schedules and blueprints and alarm systems, no problem, that was just base information on which to weave their plans and timing but people… people were unpredictable. 

Tonight was one such night. Mickey had had his arms elbows deep in another man's safe and Tony, having  cleared out the wife's dresser, rejoined them in the office.

“What are you looking for, Billy?” Tony asked. He hadn't missed that Billy was far more interested in the mark’s paperwork than he was in the safe.

“The guy's an investment banker. Seems unwise to not have a look. Might find some of that insider trading the rich tossers go on about,” Billy replied.

Mickey snorted as he finished cleaning out the safe. “Like you’d know what to do with that?”

“We ain't no fools, Mickey.” Billy eyed his companion up and down, a cheeky smirk on his face. “Least, I ain't anyways.”

Mickey opened his mouth, a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue.

Click.

The trio froze, staring at one another with wild eyes. No one was supposed to be home for hours. With a quiet snick, the front door closed and footsteps headed their way, no click of high heels on the wooden floor or the squeak of sneakers, it was the footfalls of men's dress shoes. 

Signalling for the others to turn around and face the wall, Tony grabbed a trophy from the bookshelf and secreted himself beside it.

“Hey, you!”

The boys didn't move, not a muscle.

“What are you doing in my house?” The footsteps moved closer. There was anger in those sharp footfalls. “Who the hell …”

A loud crack and  the man crumpled to the floor. Billy turned to see him lying at Tony's feet, crimson leaking from his split head. 

“He dead?” Mickey asked.

“Don't know but he didn't see our faces and I ain't hanging around for him to wake up and have a look,” Tony replied tossing the trophy and grabbing his backpack. 

Mickey quickly followed, shoving his second pack at Billy. “No time to play secretary now, I guess.”

And that had been that. They had split shortly after and would rendezvous at their usual haunt. It had always seemed wise to split up. Better to catch one than all should things go awry. At least it had until this very moment when two dark forms blocked his path through the alley. The two caging him in from behind did little to swell his optimism.

“Boss?”

Yannick stood in his kitchen helping himself to some ice cream. Normally he wouldn't serve himself, he had people for such things, but it was almost midnight and except for himself, Haskel and a few other men, the household was asleep.

“What is it?” Yannick asked, liberally squirting chocolate syrup over his ice cream.

“They brought him in, Boss. Just like you asked.”

Yannick spooned some dessert into his mouth, enjoying the cool creaminess of it. He ate another spoonful. He wasn't in a hurry. Business could wait just a moment for this little bit of pleasure. 

A muffled thump reverberated through the floor. Yannick sighed. “How broken is he?”

“He's been better,” Haskel replied with a shrug. “Don't think the lads wanted to rough him up too much without your say.”

“Best we go see then.” Yannick cinched the belt on his rob tighter, picked up his ice cream, and followed his man downstairs. 

The basement was a simple room and one Yannick was quite proud of. The bright white light and scent of bleach always brought back fond memories of his father's butcher shop where he had spent many hours after school, on weekends. In his teen years his father taught him the ins and outs of butchering an animal. Yannick may not be dismembering beasts here but the process was more or less the same.

A chair sat in the middle of the room, a young man's body tied to it. His head hung limply and Yannick could see the bloody drool leaving his mouth in viscous strings. Koyil stood guard behind him, his knuckles crimson.

Haskel quickly retrieved a chair and placed it before the prisoner, carefully to keep it out of spitting distance. Seating himself, Yannick crossed his legs and settled in comfortably. The only sound in the chill room was the boy's ragged breaths and the rasp of spoon on bowl as he stirred its quickly melting contents. 

“It seems we've been here before, Willem.”

Billy gave no answer.

Yannick jerked his chin and Koyil yanked the boy's head back by the hair, keeping it tightly fisted in his hand. Billy’s face twisted at the rough treatment,  a baleful eye peering out from the right side of his face, the left side badly swollen and split from Koyil’s administrations.

Yannick shot his two men an irritated glare, Koyil for his enthusiasm and Haskel for his understatement. He turned his attention back to Billy.

“I let you go, Willem. You were all piss and vinegar as a kid. You refused to follow instructions, always thinking you knew better and so I let you go.” Yannick spooned the now sloppy ice cream into his mouth. It was casual, measured, as though this was a normal day and a normal situation and they were merely friends having a conversation over dinner.

“Is this how I get repaid for my generosity, Willem?”

Koyil jerked Billy’s head, eliciting no more than a grunt. Credit given where credit was due, they boy had a set on him.

“Haskel?” Yannick asked his man, keeping his eyes firmly on Billy.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Where's the rest of the rabble?”

“They've eluded us for now, Boss. Gone to ground after the deed. I imagine it won't be long now though.”

Yannick nodded slowly, spooning the last of the ice cream into his mouth. He offered the empty bowl to Haskel. “Go see that it is.”

There was no missing the disappointed look on his man's face. It was clear that he wanted to witness Billy's correction. He had been a thorn in their side for too long.

“We've done this dance far too many times, Willem. You cross the line and I correct you. You pretend to be contrite but then you do it again. Back and forth, back and forth.” Yannick leaned forward in his chair using the spoon to emphasise his words. 

“I've been too lenient on you, Willem. Using words instead of action. It's so unlike me but I've always had a soft spot for you.” 

Yannick stood, approaching the boy calmly but it was now that he saw something more than defiance on his swollen, bloody face. Now there was uncertainty teetering on fear. Billy pulled slightly against Koyil's grasp but was yanked painfully for his trouble.

“You’ve had your fun and games, Son, but now…” He reached out to grip Billy’s face, his thumb pulling down on the boy's cheek. Yannick lifted the spoon and the last thing Billy saw was his own terrified face reflected back at him.