Lennon.
“Lennon? What are you doing?” Paul asked, standing up from his desk and walking towards me. I looked back at Harry whose face was emotionless. Turning my attention back to Paul I waited for Harry to answer for me, because honestly I had no clue what I was doing.
“Lennon’s going to use her non violent, psychic abilities on him,” Harry spoke with a venomous tongue. The way my name rolled off his tongue felt sinister and unwelcoming. I bit my tongue to avoid spitting something just as distasteful back in his direction. I rolled my eyes as I contemplated what Paul would say.
“Oh is she now?” Paul look surprised as he raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yep.” Harry replied sharply. “I suggest we leave them both alone, so she can work her magic or whatever she does.”
I tutted at his obvious spitefulness. He was purposely trying to make me look stupid just to prove a point. Paul looked back and forth between Harry, myself and the other obvious person in the room, before sighing and pushing past Harry out of the door. Just before Harry closed the door he sent an evil grin in my direction and a matching wink. I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes at his face just before he closed the door.
I stood there for a minute, continuing to stare at the door, which remained closed. No doubt Harry was still on the other side listening in, hoping his childish plan was going to work. Deciding I probably shouldn’t waste anymore time, I rocked back and forth on my heels before spinning around completely. I walked over towards Paul’s desk and hopped up onto it.
Looking at the face of the captive close up, properly for the first time made the impact a lot worse. The way the gang spoke of the captive I assumed it would be someone of high importance, but the man tied to a chair tightly in front of me looked like a weakling, I could probably take him out. Although it looked like someone already had. I didn’t know who he was, I had never seen him before and he looked far from a gang member.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered to myself as I approached him to get a better look at his face which was painted black and blue with bruises, not to mention the river of red running down his forehead. He was bound tightly to the chair, the rope evidently cutting into his wrists and neck as blood ran down his body in heavy streams. His mouth wasn’t tied up however but he had yet to speak one word. No doubt he was just as confused as I was.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” I’m not quite sure why I felt the need to inform him that I was going to be coming and going. I quickly left the room, and oddly Harry wasn’t waiting at the door. In fact as I trailed into the kitchen, retrieved a clean cloth soaked in fresh water and stalked back to the office, I didn’t see a single gang member. So apparently there’s a rival ganger member in the house and everyone is off doing as they please. One minute it was a big deal and the next not so much. These people were the epitome of confusing.
I strolled back into the office space and the man was still there, barely moving. When I walked up to him I was careful around his presence but his little movement slightly concerned me. His eyes were struggling to stay open and his breathing was slow and unenthusiastic.
I stood in front of him, debating which part of his face I should attempt to clean up first. His eyes were swollen to the extent I assumed it was painful to open them. His lip was cut in several places as was his cheeks and forehead. He had sweat dripping down his face and neck under the light shining down on him. He took the effort to look at me and tilted his head much like a confused animal, he still didn’t speak however.
I stepped forward and placed the damp cloth on his forehead deciding the best idea would be to stop the heavy flow of bleeding from the rather deep cut stretched across the top of his face. He jolted back at the initial touch but soon grew accustom to the pressure. He continued to look up at me with scepticism in his eyes. I moved onto cleaning up the rest of his face as best as I could with the little tools I had. I wrapped the cloth around his head, stemming the blood flow.
I wasn’t satisfied with my clean up procedure but it would have to do. I stepped back several feet unit my butt hit the desk. I slowly pulled myself up onto it again and crossed my legs. I tilted my head much like he did but instead of feeling confused, I tried my best to study him. He wasn’t the usual character I would choose to recreate in my mind, let alone try and figure out anything about.
He was tall, pretty lanky, lacking the muscles anyone in the South gang had. His leather jacket was ripped and stained from the obvious brawl he had been in. His jeans were also ripped and his shoes evidently scuffed. He clearly didn’t want to come willingly - not like I blamed him. One thing that did stand out was the tattoo on his forearm, bold and menacing. The words looked like they were scrawled in Latin but underneath was a badge of sorts, I came to a conclusion it was the gangs symbol, but I could only presume.
I sat there watching his movements, which were pretty minimal, for far too many long minutes. According to the clock it had only been ten or so, but it felt a lot longer with the never-ending silence. He didn’t move much; his eyes were either closed or focused on my own. I hadn’t heard his voice and I wondered whether it’d be dark and ominous or crackly and timid.
Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing or what I was supposed to do. What exactly was I supposed to try and figure out? Why he was here? What he was doing? And how exactly did Harry expect me to find anything out? I said I didn’t condone violence in every instance, not can I please interrogate this stranger.
I chewed hastily on my bottom lip, aware that it would probably start bleeding soon at the rate I was going. I began to swing my legs back and forth, my discomfort becoming obvious. The stranger’s eyes began darting to my feet and then to my face. He looked panicked by my movement, which was odd.
I narrowed my eyes at him as I chose to speak for the first time properly. I was slightly hoping the silence would get him to spill everything straight away but it obviously wasn’t going to. “What’s your name?”
He looked up at me properly again, confusion etched across his features. His eyebrows knotted together as I raised my mine, as if I had just asked a simple, friendly question. “Dan.” He finally spoke. His voice was half as I predicated, a little timid, scared and unsure. Nothing like anyone occupying this house.
I decided to choose my questions carefully and wisely, avoiding hitting the main point straight on the head to start with. “Did they do this to you?” I asked, my eyes indicating I meant the people who had left the room over a quarter of an hour ago.
“Who else would have done it?” He spat viciously. I was suddenly glad he was tied to the chair in fear he was actually more powerful than he obviously looked.
“Just a simple question,” I replied somberly. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t belong here Lennon…Rae.” He dragged out my last name sending shivers up and down my spine, the hairs on the nape of my neck stood to immediate attention.
“How do you know my last name?”
“Everyone knows your last name. Everyone knows you and that fact you don’t belong here.” A painful grin appeared on his face making me feel extremely uncomfortable and somewhat vulnerable although I had the upper hand in the situation.
“And where exactly do I belong?”
“You’ll find out soon.”
My heart was beating erratically hearing his words. Soon. What was that supposed to mean? I avoided showing any sort of fear and acted as if he wasn’t affecting me in any manner whatsoever.
“You don’t belong here either,” I shot back. “What are you doing here?” I jumped off of the desk and began circling him. Yes I had watched too many gangster, crime fighting films, it was technique that always seemed to work. I made sure to circle wide enough he couldn’t trip me with his longer than average limbs.
The silence was almost too overwhelming as I traced the same route for what seemed like the hundredth time. I was beginning to grow bored of the situation. I felt like I was getting nowhere and Harry would soon be proven right much to my annoyance. One last circle and stopped right in front of him. I put my face inches away from his, our eyes connecting immediately.
“His eyes,” he coughed out, leaving me bewildered again.
“What?”
“His eyes.” He repeated.
I had no clue what he was talking about and decided not to dwell on it any further. I said I didn’t condone violence but what I was about to do was hardly violent, I preferred to call it tactical. My next move was also something I had learnt from one of those late night cop films that are shown at the unheard of hours on Channel 5. He looked startled as I brought my hand up, he flinched away as if I was going to hit him, which I wasn’t.
I kept my eyes focused on him, watching him squirm as my hand reached closer and closer to his face. I bypassed his face however and reached around to the side of his head, landing just behind his ear. I brought my other hand up and did exactly the same on the other side. My two index fingers resting just below his ear on the soft skin but with no pressure added, yet.
“What are you doing here?” I repeated for the third. I waited patiently for his reply but with only silence being received I decided it was time to take the upper hand completely. I pushed down hard with my fingers and slightly upwards. I’d never actually put the technique into practice but the way he was squirming around made it clear it wasn’t a nice feeling. The only problem with pressing his pressure points near his jaw like that meant he could barely speak. Ten seconds later he began to gargle incoherent words. I let go at the sound of his voice.
“Please stop,” he breathed heavily.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
“Please don’t do that again.” He begged with his voice and his wide eyes. I smirked proudly. Something I watched in a film actually worked in real life, that had to be a first.
“Tell me why you’re here and I’ll see.”
Silence lingered over us again for too long than I would have liked. Apparently he wasn’t going to be putty in my hands. I sighed and stepped closer again. He took a breath in sharply and tried to squirm away. My hands reached out again but instead of reaching towards his head I moved further down to his shoulders and collarbones. My hands landed on top of his collarbones. His breathing became erratic as if he knew what I was about to do. I stretched two fingers out and pressed behind the bone, pushing my fingers under it creating extra discomfort. This time however, he hadn’t lost the ability to speak.
“They’re after you!” He blurted out. I quickly stepped away allowing him to speak more freely. “You’re wanted so badly. Needed in fact and they will do anything to get you.”
“Who? Why?”
“You’re not normal.”
“Who?”
“Everyone.”
“The East?” I asked trying to narrow down his accusations.
“Everyone?” He repeated again.
“So what are you doing here?”
He said nothing again which was beginning to annoy me.
“Look, you may as well answer. You won’t get out of here alive.” I didn’t actually know whether Paul and the gang would let him ago but I felt like he may be more inclined to speak if he was threatened.
“The East are gaining more power by the day.”
“How? Why?”
“More men, more drugs, more weapons.”
“Why?” I asked again.
“London only needs one gang."
My breath hitched in my throat as I came to terms to what he was spelling out for me. The East were getting ready to fight, they were preparing for a war no one else was aware of. And somehow I fitted in the middle of all of this.
“So why do they want me? What part do I play in this?”
“A very, very important part. But I’ll leave you to figure that out on your own.”
I stepped far back from Dan until I hit the desk again. On cue Paul knocked on the door and poked his head through the small gap he created.
“Still alive?” I nodded back before rushing towards him, suddenly feeling the urge to get out of the room. I needed air, desperately.
Once I was out of the office I darted towards the kitchen, by passing everyone who had gathered round for dinner. I slipped through the back door and stood in the middle of the garden, taking deep breaths. I know my hasty exit was probably extremely suspicious but all of a sudden the walls felt like they were caving in, trying to suffocate me. Dan’s voice was ringing in my ears, his words still making little sense to me. I felt more in danger now than I had ever done before in my life, I couldn’t comprehend why because nothing was making sense. I felt lost, confused and angry.
I jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up from my own hands which had been cupping my face to see Harry who was looking at me quizzically. I wasn’t crying but I may as well have been with the way I felt.
“What happened in there?” He asked and before I could say anything, he pulled his arms away from his sides and wrapped them around my own. I was slightly startled at his actions. He was hardly the caring person but here he was, pulling my body closer to his in a comforting way. I gripped a hold of his shirt for dear life, my hands uncontrollably shaking. I shook my head against his chest, not wanting to answer.
“Lennon,” he stated, pulling away one of his arms so he could tilt my head up with his hand. “What did he say?”
“The East,” I breathed out shakily. He looked at me with hopeful eyes. “They’re getting ready for a fight.”
“What?”
“London only needs one gang.” I replied, repeating Dan’s exact words.
“Did he say anything else?”
“No,” I lied but I didn’t want to tell Harry about what else he said. I couldn’t put my finger on why but the whole gang war seemed like a much greater deal than my presence in any of this.
“We’ll sort it. How did you get him to tell you this exactly? Did you seduce him?”
“What? No!” I pushed myself away from Harry, angered by his sudden lack of concern of my wellbeing.
“Well then how?” I started to walk back towards the house, Harry following behind.
“Oh you know, we shared a cuppa and one conversation about EastEnders soon led to another.” I shot back cynically, mocking Harry’s words from earlier in the day. I didn’t hear his reply but no doubt it wasn’t very pleasant.
I didn’t speak to Harry for the remainder of the day, in fact I barely spoke to anyone. I spent a lot of time in my bedroom, or guest room whichever one it was. I didn’t do a lot, a bit of writing but nothing worthy of being in the front pages of my notebook. I text Dom and listened to him complain about his work colleagues as well as avoiding his questions about my love life which was apparently a hot topic, but in my eyes actually failed to exist. I hated lying, especially to Dom, he was the butter to my toast, one without the other wasn’t right and now I felt like I was betraying our friendship.
That night I climbed into bed alone around half nine, I had nothing better to do than sleep after I showered and lounged around even more. I don’t know how long I had lied there with my eyes closed but my mind still racing. I was still trying to figure out what my existence meant to London or whether Dan was just messing with my mind. I had no idea what had happened to Dan, whether they let him go or disposed of him in another way. No doubt Harry had informed the rest of the gang what I had told him since no one else came to ask for an explanation.
I had just closed my eyes again after looking at the clock which read just after midnight when Harry crept into the room. After fumbling with his clothes and causing havoc in the bathroom he soon joined me in the bed. I was lying right up against my side again, most of the duvet wrapped around my body like a cocoon. I heard him sigh as he tried to reach over and grab some of the warm material but I pulled back just as eagerly.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.” I replied bluntly.
“Why are you always mad at me?”
“Stop doing things that make me mad at you then.”
“So you are mad at me?”
“Yes.” I sighed heavily, turning onto my back, allowing him access to some of the duvet reluctantly.
“I was just joking.”
“It wasn’t very funny.”
“I know that, now.”
“Good.”
“How long are you going to be like this?”
“Like what?”
“Angry? Pissed off.”
I didn’t have an appropriate answer for him so I remained silent and fiddled with my fingers on top of the sheets.
“I don’t know what you did in there,” Harry spoke out of the blue again. “But I have to admit I was wrong. Whatever you did clearly worked.”
“I guess,”
“Who are you Lennon Rae?” He half chuckled and half sighed as he rolled over, ready to sleep I presumed.
“I don’t know.” I mumbled mainly to myself, because I didn’t know. I thought I was just simple Lennon, no real life ambitions and a pretty boring life, but everything was changing, and rapidly.