What You Don’t Know


Frank was being a little rougher than he had to be, but from what he heard, Block had been a marine once so he didn’t want underestimate the man. He even had two guys as back-up out in the car.  He followed up his right cross with a punch to Block’s stomach.  Air left Block’s lungs in full retreat and he went down to his knees while Frank hulked over him.

Marine? Frank asked himself.  If this guy had been a marine then the country was in deep shit because Block is a real pussy — letting a man come in his house and manhandle him this way.

“I know it’s your brother that owes Mr. Galvin, but since your brother’s not around, you need to come up with it.  Five large.”  Frank said

Block gasped for breath and coughed a few times.  He wasn’t that a big of a guy, but at one point in the past, he’d been in a better shape.

“I haven’t seen my brother in months,” Block choked out.

“Don’t matter.  You’re here, he ain’t.”  Frank kicked out at Block, catching him in the chin and knocking him ass over elbows.  Block rolled across the floor toward the fireplace.  Frank followed him, pausing for a moment to look at the family photos arranged on the mantle.  He grabbed one of frames and examined it.

“This your wife and kid?”  He asked, but didn’t wait for an answer.  “Be a shame if something happened to them, right?  So, come up with the money.”  He jerked the frame down, whipping it across the top of Block’s head, shattering the glass and wooden frame.  Again, Block cowered.

“Shit,” Frank said in disgust and turned to leave, but only made it half step before he turned to say, “I’ll be back to…”

Block interrupted him by the slashing of a fire poker across his head, sending Frank sprawling backwards.  Off balance, he tripped over an end table and went down.  Block was on him in a flash, punishing him again and again with the poker.

Frank wondered what the fuck that had just happened as blood streamed from his numerous head wounds and his vision drifted in and out focus.

Block stood over him.  “What you don’t know won’t hurt you, right?” He stopped to wipe blood off his face.  “Yeah, if you believe in fairy tales.  You came in expecting you rough me up and get me to roll over because I had something to lose.  What you don’t know is that I don’t have a family.  My son died last month.  Cancer.  My wife split because she couldn’t take it.  And, for another thing, I couldn’t give a shit about my brother.”  He kicked Frank in the balls.  Hard.

He leaned over and patted Frank down, finding the the gun tucked into Frank’s waistband.  He aimed it at Frank, looked up and out the window at the car parked in front of his house then shot Frank twice in the face.  It only took three seconds, but the doors of the car flew open and two men jumped out, guns drawn.  Block ducked behind the open front door before they could spot him.

The two men rushed into the house and when they came through the door Block shot the first one in the back of the head and he went down.  When the other whirled around to fire, Block shot him in the leg.  The man screamed, dropped his gun, and fell to the floor clutching his thigh, blood coursing between his fingers from the wound.

“Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?” Block said moving towards the man.

“What you don’t know can hurt you.  What you don’t know is that you came into a house of a man with a nothing to lose,” Block leveled the gun at the man’s face.  “Now, you tell me where I can find this Mr. Galvin because he needs to know something, too.”


~ fin ~

R.J. Spears lives in Columbus, Ohio and writes mystery/crime and horror fiction.  His stories have appeared across the web at Shotgun Honey, Out of the Gutter, the HorrorZine, and Flashes in the Dark along with several other sites.  His novel, Sanctuary From the Dead, was published by J. Ellington Ashton Press.  His first two books in his Forget the Zombie series, Forget the Alamo and Forget Texas, are available on Amazon