Bad Intentions by Karin Fossum

where it threatened his pride. Axel Frimann was a wronged man. Something he could not control had disregarded his excellence and decided to act as it pleased. And this something cared nothing for his exalted position but tormented him as though he was just anyone.
    The doorbell rang. He knew it would be Reilly.
    "What are you on this time?" Axel asked when he saw his swimmy eyes.
    "Georgia Home Boy," Reilly said.
    "And what is that?"
    "GHB. Or Salty Water," Reilly said. "Or Jib. Known and loved by all. What's up?"
    He stepped inside.
    Axel wanted to say that he had a toothache. However, he started telling Reilly a different story, and he didn't understand why. He wasn't in the habit of confiding in anyone. People who opened up were like babies spewing milk. But it was as if the pain unlocked something he would normally have kept quiet about. There was an ache inside him that he had ignored for a long time.
    "I went to the hospital yesterday," he said. "To see my dad."
    Reilly gave him a look of surprise. Axel never spoke about his father. Perhaps he was ashamed of him or perhaps his illness was too hard for him to deal with. In just a few seconds he had been robbed of his father, a handsome man, who had suddenly collapsed in a ditch. He had lain in a hospital bed ever since, pale and shapeless like sausage meat.
    "I'll tell you what happened," Axel said, "so that you know. We were walking down the road, my dad and I. Four years ago. It was summer. I had come to visit them at their holiday cottage. We had gone to buy some eggs from a nearby farm. My mom needed them for baking. Idyllic, don't you think? Father and son on a country road on a warm, sunny day. He was fifty-three years old. Fifty-three, Reilly. He was a good-looking man, he was still in great shape and everything. You remember that, don't you, that he was a good-looking man?"
    Reilly nodded. He had splayed his feet to keep his balance. His head was spinning and he would have preferred to sit down, but he didn't dare move.
    "It was a warm afternoon," Axel said. "I remember a few details. Insects. Stinging nettles by the roadside. An awful lot of stinging nettles. They have their own special smell, by the way, did you know that? You can make soup from them, but I can't imagine it tastes very good."
    Reilly was unsure where this was going. Not that the business with Axel's father was a secret; everyone knew he was a goner, that he would never walk again. But Axel was so pale and his eyes so black, as though he might attack the first person he saw. And I would be the first person, Reilly thought. He retreated a step, just to be on the safe side.
    "We were walking down the road," Axel said. "We were in the middle of a conversation. My dad was quite talkative; he always had something to say, an opinion about something or other. A point of view. Suddenly he shot off to the left and then he simply ran into the ditch headfirst. I've never seen anything so terrifying. It was like the air going out of an inflatable toy. All I could think about was the stinging nettles. He was wearing a shortsleeved shirt. When I bent over, I noticed his jaw had slackened, it was disgusting. On one side. Do you know what I mean?"
    Reilly knew. He saw Axel touch his jaw. He moved to the wall for support. The drugs he had taken were making him dizzy.
    "His face was completely distorted," Axel said. "I didn't know what was happening, so I phoned for help. It was a long wait. I couldn't get anything out of him. I just squatted down in the sun thinking that someone had beaten him up. Because that's what it looked like. Someone had given him a beating that he would never recover from. I didn't know exactly what had happened, but I was certain of this: he had been destroyed. He was gurgling and waving one hand as though he wanted me to go away. I didn't know what to do and I couldn't bear to look at him. I had to get up and walk a little way down the road, but I kept hearing the noises he was making.