Open Wounds by Douglas Skelton sampler
Davie McCall is tired. Tired of violence, tired of the Life. He's always managed to stay detached from the brutal nature of his line of work, but recently he has caught himself enjoying it. In the final instalment in the Davie McCall series old friends clash and long buried secrets are unearthed as McCall investigates a brutal five-year-old crime. Davie wants out, but the underbelly of Glasgow is all he has ever known. Will what he learns about his old ally Big Rab McClymont be enough to get him out of the Life? And could the mysterious woman who just moved in upstairs be just what he needs?
Davie McCall is tired. Tired of violence, tired of the Life. He's always managed to stay detached from the brutal nature of his line of work, but recently he has caught himself enjoying it.
In the final instalment in the Davie McCall series old friends clash and long buried secrets are unearthed as McCall investigates a brutal five-year-old crime.
Davie wants out, but the underbelly of Glasgow is all he has ever known. Will what he learns about his old ally Big Rab McClymont be enough to get him out of the Life? And could the mysterious woman who just moved in upstairs be just what he needs?
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open wounds 15<br />
him cut or his legs done, left it up to me. I thought I’d add a wee<br />
flourish <strong>by</strong> letting old Henry decide. Don’t worry, there was no<br />
way I’d’ve done his balls. No way was I touching another bloke’s<br />
tackle.’<br />
McCall felt the muscles in his jaw clamp. Rab knew he wanted<br />
nothing to do with guns. The lawyer needed slapped, sure, and he<br />
would’ve done it. If Rab had told him that he’d sent the boy out<br />
tooled up, there would’ve been words. There would be now, anyway.<br />
When Jimsie pulled the trigger he’d felt his gorge rising but he’d<br />
disguised it well. He’d hidden it, just as he’d hidden many things<br />
for many years. Jimsie’s ‘wee flourish’ was also troubling. The boy’s<br />
tendency to go over the top was, to McCall, deeply concerning.<br />
‘Rab knows I don’t like guns,’ McCall said, quietly.<br />
‘Relax,’ said Jimsie. ‘It was only loaded with rock salt. It’ll’ve<br />
flayed the hide off him, maybe, but not much else.’<br />
‘Don’t be getting to enjoy these things, Jimsie,’ said McCall, his<br />
voice soft.<br />
‘Are you kidding? Bastard is a right scumbag, so he is. He<br />
deserved it.’<br />
‘Listen to me, son.’ A sharp edge cut into McCall’s tone that<br />
made the young man stop short. ‘Sometimes in The Life we have<br />
to hurt people. Most of the time they deserve it, other times they<br />
don’t. We have to do these things because it’s what we do and,<br />
God help us, we’re good at it. But never take pleasure in it. The<br />
minute you enjoy it, you’re lost.’<br />
Jimsie shrugged. ‘Listen, Davie, I like you and I respect you and<br />
all that, but you’re no Obi Wan fuckin Kenobi, you know what<br />
I’m saying? You’re no my teacher. I don’t need you to look out for<br />
me or to guide me – I’ve got my granddad for all that, okay?’<br />
McCall sat back in his seat, satisfied he’d said his piece but<br />
recognising that what the younger man had said was true. McCall<br />
wasn’t his mentor. He wasn’t his father. Jimsie was young but he<br />
was a big boy now and he’d learn the hard way that The Life wasn’t<br />
fun and games. For some people, the hard way was the only way.<br />
Jimsie watched the traffic ahead and then another thought struck<br />
him. ‘Is that what happened to you? Did you get to enjoy it?’
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