on the way home from a night out and brutally raped.
It had taken the police six months to find the culprit. They finally arrested and charged a local lad called Michael Jones, whom they later released on bail.
Stuart’s girlfriend, Carly, had been petrified when she found out that her attacker was back on the streets. She was afraid to go out of the door, and she couldn’t bear Stuart coming anywhere near her. Sex was a definite no-go. The rape had been so violent it had left Carly with severe internal injuries.
With their relationship inevitably breaking down, Stuart decided to get his own back for his girlfriend. It had taken him two weeks to find out exactly who Michael Jones was and where he hung out of a night.
Armed with a six-inch blade, Stuart headed to the bar on a Friday night with his pal, Dan. The bar was small inside, played reggae music, was full of black guys, and Stuart didn’t have a clue if he’d be able to spot his girlfriend’s attacker amongst the crowd.
As luck would have it, he recognised him within minutes. Michael Jones was standing with another black guy talking to two white girls on the edge of a very small dancefloor.
Telling his mate Dan to stay at the bar, Stuart approached Jones from behind. Overcome by the need for revenge, Stu pulled the knife out of the inside of his jacket and repeatedly stabbed the bastard in the back.
‘That’s for my Carly, you cunt,’ he screamed, as her rapist fell to the floor in a pool of blood.
Stuart had tried to run away from the bar, but was held on to by a crowd of black geezers until the police arrived. They kicked and punched him and called him every white motherfucker under the sun. He was badly beaten by the time he was arrested, and if the police had arrived any later, he’d have probably been killed himself. Dan had tried to help him, but Stuart had told him to leg it. He didn’t want his pal getting banged up as well. This was his problem and he wanted to sort it alone.
Michael Jones had clung to life for almost a week. He had many internal injuries and was rushed straight into intensive care. Stu was informed eight days later by a police officer that he had died. He felt no remorse whatsoever.
After Stuart had opened up about his arrest, Eddie told him his own story. He explained in detail about that fateful night in Tilbury, leaving no stone unturned.
The two cellmates had somehow formed a bond for life. Ed adored Stu – he was like another son to him – and Stuart adored Eddie. Stuart had never had the pleasure of having a father figure around, his own dad had fucked off when he was a toddler and he’d never seen him since.
As soon as the screw unlocked the cell door, both Eddie and Stuart stood up. Stu’s mate, Dan, was coming to visit him and he hoped that Ed would be sitting nearby so he could introduce them.
Stuart slapped Eddie on the back. ‘Good luck, mate,’ he whispered.
Over in Rainham, Frankie had just heard a car pull up. Full of excitement, she flung open the trailer door and ran outside to greet her brother and Dominic. She couldn’t wait to show Joey how happy she and Jed were. She’d got all the baby stuff out to show him and Jed had promised that he would take them for a ride on the horse and cart later.
It had been Jed’s idea that they visit her at home. ‘You want your brother to see where you’re living, Frankie. He needs to know that I’m looking after you properly. Let him come here, then later on we’ll all go out for a nice slap-up meal. My treat, of course.’
Joey hugged his twin sister tightly. He’d missed her immensely and it was great to see her again.
‘Look at you! The baby’s really showing now,’ he said, patting her tummy.
Frankie giggled. She was now almost five months gone and had put on tons of weight since she’d last seen Joey. While Frankie turned her attention to Dominic, Jed stepped outside the trailer. He held his right hand out to Joey.
‘Good to see you again.
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