In This Skin by Simon Clark

body had the withered appearance of an octogenarian. She glanced up with no real interest.
        ”Dinner's on the table, boys. I'm going back to bed for a while.”
        Benedict saw that the young guy (the guy he now knew to be Ellery Hann) still helped her by the arm. A moment later Ellery Hann slipped out the bedroom and gently closed the door behind him. He had none of the coarse features of his brother and father. The bones of his cheeks and jaw were fine. Even the skin looked smoother and brighter than the dull, stubbled and blotchy faces of the two men nearest Benedict.
        The one called Matt caught Ellery's eye and jerked his head in the direction of Benedict. ”This guy says he's got your wallet?”
        Ellery's bright, intelligent eyes fixed on it. He nodded.
        Matt sniffed. ”El says it's his.”
        To Ellery, Benedict said, ”Do you want to check the contents to make sure the-”
        Matt interrupted. ”It's cool. Besides, it wasn't the money you were interested in.”
        Benedict leaned forward to catch a close look at Ellery. It also took him so close to Pop that he could smell the man's pungent breath. ”I just wanted to make sure you were okay when I brought the wallet back.”
        Pop growled. ”Why shouldn't he be okay?”
        ”Yeah.”Matt sniffed. ”What did you do to him?”That was obviously intended to stir the big man's anger again. Matt was disappointed that the old man hadn't slung a couple of punches in Benedict's face.
        Thanks for nothing, Matt, Benedict thought. Just when he figured he could slip away from this house-of-not-so-many-delights without a pair of black eyes.
        ”Yeah…”Some mental image sidled into the man's heavy skull. A mental image that disgusted him. Rage flared in his eyes. ”Yeah, what have you done to my son! Your sort revolt me! You know that?”
        Benedict stepped back. This time Ellery slipped under his father's elbow as the big guy posed there with his hands on his hips, all belligerence and venom. Ellery stood between the two, looked down at the wallet and nodded. Benedict handed it to him. Ellery glanced up at him with two clear blue eyes. He nodded a thank you, then ducked back under his father's timber-like arms to disappear into the gloom of the house.
        There was one of those pauses, an empty void that begged someone to say something or do something.
        ”Whatcha want? A certificate of gratitude?”Pop swung the door shut. It crashed against the jamb two inches from Benedict's nose.
        For a second Benedict didn't move, despite the urge to head back to his car as quickly as he could. In the bright light of day he'd gotten a close look at the young man with the stammer. Last night the guy had had the face of a crushed strawberry. His nose and eyes were split. Blood splashed everywhere. Less than twenty-four hours later Benedict had seen Hann's face close up as he took the wallet. Was there a scab or a graze or a bruise?
        No. Nothing. Only the faintest mottling on his cheek that could have marked the position of two-week-old bruises. Nothing else.
        So, Ellery Hann, how do you heal from a vicious beating in twelve hours?
        Answer me that one.
        As Benedict returned to his car he found himself puzzling over the question without an answer.
        
***
        
        By late Saturday afternoon Noel was getting horny again. They were alone in Robyn's house. She knew it was right for him to slip off her skirt, then start kissing her inner thighs the way he always did. Only in her heart it didn't feel right.
        Why is it that my libido's decreased while Noel's has skyrocketed? Robyn Vincent pulled his head to her chest as they lay together on the couch.
        She ran her fingers through his softly curling hair while he massaged her breasts.
        Oh, God, I want to run screaming for the bathroom. If he tries to push