The Merry Pranked by Day Rusk Page A

Leslie never did have much of a poker face.
    “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” said Harry. “Jesus Christ, you have no idea, do you?”
    Leslie was at a loss for words.
    “Morgan and your old man. They were fucking partners,” said Harry. “You think Morgan’s a bad ass, a killer, you should have seen your old man in action. Fuck, I guess you were too young. What happened to your old man, hell, he did the same to others. Like I said, fucking psycho.”
    Leslie had heard enough. “You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about,” he said.
    Harry didn’t even flinch. “Got yourself a bit of the old Marshall temper now don’t you,” he said. “Listen arsehole, your old man was a shit. No good. He and Morgan was partners, but you know how it goes, some partnerships work out and some don’t. Sometimes it’s a good split and sometimes not so good. Sometimes it even gets a little bloody.”
    Harry just looked at him; Leslie could see he was enjoying this.
    “We had to off your family,” continued Harry. “Only way to sneak up on ole Danny boy. Do it at home where he never brought his work. That, and Morgan wasn’t sure if the psycho Marshall gene wasn’t going to be passed down to his kiddies. You see, Morgan’s smart that way. Don’t leave anyone behind who might come looking for revenge later.”
    “Fuck Morgan,” was all Leslie could think to say. This dialogue had given him some time to regain control of his thoughts. His mind wasn’t busy getting ready to register the latest pain Harry was serving up, preoccupied with telling him to roll and cover his head. He was also thinking about the gun he had stashed in his coat pocket; the gun he had failed to reach for so far. It was there; it might also be his only way out of this mess. At some point, he figured, he had to go for it, but when? If he fumbled with it, he’d be as good as dead; at the same time, now that he was here, facing one of the men who had murdered his family, could he actually pull it out and shoot the man? It was one thing to sit in his office or at home fantasizing about this moment, but another thing to actually be in that moment.
    “Holy fuck,” said Harry. “Is that what this is all about? You lookin’ for revenge? You fuckin’ kidding me?”
    Leslie’s entire attention was on the weight of the gun in his coat pocket. It was calling to him; tempting him. He didn’t know what to do.
    “Fuck no,” said Harry. “You? Revenge? You’re too much of a pussy for that. Look at you? Hell, your little shit of a sister would probably have grown up to be more dangerous than you. Who knew such a pussy could spring from Dan Marshall’s loins?”
    Harry laughed some more. Leslie had just about enough of this guy; he was pissing him off. How dare he run down his family; talk about his sister. He needed to do something.
    “Oh, shit, that hit a nerve, didn’t it,” said Harry. “As long as we’re reminiscing arsehole, let me share this with you. Kids that young, their heads kind of pop and explode when you pump one into them. Fucking brilliant, in a bloody sort of way.”
    Harry looked at Leslie, the smile leaving Harry’s face.
    “I can see the anger in your eyes, boy. You want to hurt me, don’t you? Want to kill me. I don’t suppose you came out here to do that without a plan; without a weapon. Which pocket you got it in boy? Right or left? Now’s the time to go for it; I mean, what the fuck are you waiting for?”
    Harry stared intently into Leslie’s eyes. Leslie held his gaze, all the time willing his hand to go for the gun in his pocket. Harry knew about it, but if he was fast enough, he could probably kill the bastard. He had to do something, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to make the move. He had no idea what was holding him back; fear maybe?
    Harry finally laughed again.
    “I ain’t got time to deal with you, arsehole,” said Harry. “Can’t be bothered. I’m guessing letting