Ugly Beautiful by Sean-Paul Thomas Page B

into the cold iron bathtub, Jason looked in upon Haley who deep in sleep once again.
     
    'Jesus Christ this girl can sleep for bloody Scotland.'
     
    Inside the bathroom Jason undressed before dunking himself into the steaming warm tub. He edged his entire body underneath the roasting water and laid back with an overwhelmingly relaxed pleasure. The late Spring air was still a little humid throughout the cottage so Jason had left the bathroom door wide open, letting a gentle breeze filter in through the steamy air.
     
    Jason closed his eyes, thinking hard. Thoughts that were a lot more clouded since the arrival of Haley into his life. What to do with her once he left this place in a day or two? Should he just leave her here in the cottage or should he take her with him and kick her arse out at the first village, town or city they came to? Or what if the police finally caught up with him? Or Brad and the gang even? Shit, he didn't even get in touch with Gary before he left. But what would have been the point? Gary couldn't help him or protect him from any of this. Plus, did he really consider Gary as that good a friend? Yes, they were supposed to be best friends, but he felt more like a part friend, part business colleague these days and then with his drug habit and erratic violent tendencies, he was gradually beginning to believe that Gary was someone who should be kept at arms length. As for Brad and all the other gang member hounds who sat beneath his father's throne, fighting for his scraps and answering to his every need and beckoned call. Surely they'd be secretly thanking Jason right about now for taking the old tyrant bastard out of the equation. In fact, Jason had no doubt at all that at that very moment in time there was some kind of gangland power struggle and feud setting itself in motion for his father's turf, even as he lay in that bathtub.
     
    The police and local politicians would be silently congratulating Jason too, he believed, for his cold blooded actions against his father... but Sandra, Jesus Christ, his stunning, dead, stripper wife. She had her faults, everyone does. But did she really deserve such a violent and cold blooded end? Could a man be blamed for retaliating to the call of humiliation, betrayal and revenge, all of them bombarded upon his soul in a matter of seconds. And then his mind wandered to the one thing he had been desperately trying to avoid thinking about ever since he'd left Edinburgh, that forever unborn child of his, or whoever he/she belonged too... ARRRGGGGH! Jason screamed inside. It made him sick to his core to finally realise and admit to himself that he'd ended that poor child's life and without even a second thought about the consequences of his fateful actions in that moment of rage, hate and fear. Even if the child wasn't his it was still an innocent life in all of this. Holy shit, what had he done? What had he done? What had he done?'
     
    Jason's eyes remained shut. Through the dim light of the steamy bathroom, a darkened figure emerged lurking in the hallway, right outside the wide open bathroom door. Jason, sensing a presence and disturbed from his thoughts of sorrow and regret, opened his eyes and turned his gaze towards the doorway where he glanced the dark and eerie figure peering in at him. Jason was startled, his heart skipped a beat, as he stared intensely through the thick fog of steam in utter disbelief at seeing the ghostly figure. The wet hairs on the back of his neck and all over his soaked body pricked chillingly up on a knifes edge as he pondered whether to yell out or just immediately out of the bath tub with the surge of adrenaline flowing through his veins. They had come for him. Was this the end then? They had found him already and much sooner than he'd expected, even though he was fairly certain that nobody knew about this place. He guessed the Police or Brad would have their ways, somehow.
     
    After a long silent stand off, Jason's fear that some