The Point by Gerard Brennan

style. Yes, his mind thrummed with bottled-up anger, but he wasn’t going to scuffle with Paul. He knew Paul would beat seven shades out of him if he tried. But he couldn’t continue to do nothing. To bite his lip. So he opened his mouth and just let the words flow.
    “You know, I came here because you thought it would be a good idea, Paul. I had my doubts, but look how things turned out. I settled in nicely. Got a job, a girl, didn’t have to break into houses for money. It felt pretty good. But then you took me to the Chinese. And after that, you beat up Rachel’s ex. But I figured, that’s Paul. He’ll always be in trouble. I can rise above. But I was wrong about that. Of course, I can’t rise above.”
    “Bro, time’s getting on.”
    “I’m trying to make a point here, Paul.”
    Paul threw his hands up, but restrained his tongue. Brian continued: “Thing is, bro, I’ll never be happy if I let you drag me down, will I? Brother or not, you’ll fuck up my life. And I think you know it. You just don’t care enough to want to stop yourself.”
    “I don’t care enough? Come on, wee bro. You’re breaking my heart...”
    “No, Paul. Just stop it. You can’t talk me around this time. I’m staying here. It’s time for you to move on, not me.”
    Rachel tugged at Brian’s sleeve. “Brian, as much as I agree with you, you can’t stay here right now. Paul’s right. They’ll use you to get to him.”
    Brian felt himself sag. He’d taken a stand against Paul. Wrestled for control of his own life, and for nothing. It was out of reach.
    “Come on,” Paul said. “We’ve wasted ages now. We need to move. Can we take your da’s car, Rachel?”
    “No you cannot!” Rachel folded her arms and cocked her hips. “We could probably use our John’s though, couldn’t we?”
    “What ‘we’ is this?” Brian asked. “Me, you and Paul?”
    Rachel ignored the question and Brian felt as if control had moved another step out of his grasp.
    “I think John’s going away for a while,” Rachel said. “He must have mentioned it to you, Paul. You two are as thick as thieves.”
    “He might have mentioned something, aye.”
    Rachel clapped her hands like a maître d’ summoning the underlings. “Get your gear together, Brian. I’ll take Paul down the road and we can stop off at mine. I’ll put a bag together too. We’ll be out of here in about 20 minutes. Be ready, okay?”
    Brian wanted to argue, try and offer even a little resistance just for the sake of pride. But he knew it would only be a waste of time. So, he zipped it and headed off to gather his shit together.
     
    Pain in the Neck
     
    O’Rourke slammed his palm down on the mahogany desk. Charlie jerked and whimpered. O’Rourke hauled himself out of his leather office chair, stalked across the room and unloaded a right cross into Charlie’s face. Owen, hardened thug or not, flinched as Charlie’s head snapped back. O’Rourke remained in front of Charlie until he could raise his beaten head again. He gurgled blood as O’Rourke cupped his chin in his hand.
    “Paul’s let me down, Charlie,” O’Rourke said. “So, I’ll just take care of you myself. Nighty-night.”
    O’Rourke grabbed Charlie’s head in his hands and twisted it to the right with a grunt. Charlie’s neck cracked. O’Rourke backed away and Charlie’s head lolled forward.
    O’Rourke turned to Owen. “Go get Paul and bring him here. I should never have given that sneaky Belfast shite a chance.”
    He went back to his desk and scribbled on a scrap of paper.
    “That’s his address, okay?”
    Owen nodded and left.
     
    Where Can I Drop You?
     
    Rachel turned right at the painted-on roundabout at the bottom of Duke Street. The Subaru’s engine grumbled. Invited her to feed it more juice. But she took it easy. She needed to buy a little time and figure out what to do about her passenger. Paul fiddled with the radio. Rachel slapped his hand away from the knobs and