Die Tryin' Read online

  Contents

  Thanks

  Copyright Page

  DIE TRYIN’

  Epigraph

  PART ONE—ENDGAME

  ONE

  TWO

  PART TWO—SEE NO EVIL

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  PART 3—HEAR NO EVIL

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  PART 4—SPEAK NO EVIL

  SEVENTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  EIGHTEEN

  About the Author

  Thanks to everyone who helped me in the production of this novel.

  The Old Witch for all her harsh, but fair words.

  Tim Dedopulous for his much needed input.

  The talented Andy Fielding for his great front cover design www.andyfielding.co.uk.

  All the Yianni family and relations. A special thank you to George Yianni, whose untimely death unfortunately led to the inspiration for this novel. RIP dad…

  Die Tryin'

  Copyright © 2011 by Stavro Yianni

  All rights reserved

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Cover Design by Andy Fielding, http://www.andyfielding.co.uk/

  eBook edition by eBooks by Barb for booknook.biz

  DIE TRYIN’

  DRUGS. HOES. MONEY.

  —North London graffiti

  PART ONE—ENDGAME

  ONE

  Tony Savva was a dead man.

  He drained his Beck’s, and slammed the empty down with all the others. The girls were all lined up like hunks of meat, a sea of brown tits and tight arses.

  He picked one, and pointed at her. ‘You. 14. Come here.’

  She nodded obediently. One of the others chattered that fucking slant eyed gibberish at her as she stepped down off the stage.

  Tony sparked up a fag and looked round. Voodoo was buzzing; horny tourists with beer bellies and flip-flops, their skin as red as a lobster’s back, swarming around the stage, drooling like rabid dogs.

  14 made it past them in one piece and to Tony’s table. She took a seat. Straight away, Tony reached out and grabbed a handful of supple Thai titty. She gave him a fake smile in return.

  ‘What’s your name?’ he asked her in an almost suspicious voice, glaring down at her.

  ‘Lucky,’ she replied, with a gleam in her eye.

  Lucky? Yeah, I’m fucking blessed! If only you knew…

  ‘What your name?’ she asked in return.

  ‘Antoni Savva. But, you can call me Tony.’

  ‘Tohnee,’ she echoed in her cute Thai accent. ‘Where come from?’

  Tony took a drag on his fag and breathed out the smoke from his lungs. ‘London.’

  She gave him a sideways look. ‘You no look English.’

  ‘My roots are in Cyprus,’ he replied.

  Lucky stared at him stupidly.

  Tony wrenched up his shirt-sleeve, and showed her the tattoo on his upper arm. ‘Cyprus. Near Greece.’

  ‘Oh.’ She paused, stroked the design. ‘Why top have blood?’

  ‘Invaders. Killed my people, raped our women. They are still there.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said again, sounding thoughtful. Then: ‘Why come Thailand?’

  I didn't have any fucking choice, did I?

  ‘Cos the beer’s cheap and the women are cheaper, Lucky!’

  ‘What?’

  Tony shook his head. ‘Nothing…’

  The Mama-san—a fat monstrosity—stomped by and dropped off a fresh Beck’s with joyless fervour. Tony dropped a wad of notes into her tray. She nodded her head once, her huge nostrils flaring into bottomless pits, before marching off. Tony gave her the Nescafe shake over his shoulder.

  Lucky swatted his clenched fist, giggling. ‘Stop this,’ she said. ‘You not bad man, you jai dii. You know what this mean?’ Tony shook his head indifferently; he didn’t know and he didn’t really care.

  ‘This mean you have good heart. I see you. You act crazy, but you have good heart.’

  Tony laughed to himself. ‘I don’t think so,’ he told her before he beckoned her with his finger.

  She leant her ear in towards him, a look of anticipation on her face. When she was close enough, Tony’s face turned serious, but luckily for Lucky, she couldn’t see it. ‘I killed someone,’ he said to her in an emotionless whisper. ‘So, Lucky, I can’t have a good heart, can I? And yes, I am crazy, believe me. Fucking insane.’ He licked his lower lip as he leant back and relaxed; Lucky was rooted for a second or two, her arms crawling with gooseflesh, staring into space like she had just glimpsed through a black hole and seen Hell waiting on the other side. Tony watched her shiver and then come back to life from whatever daymare she was having. Her eyes met Tony’s; they were suddenly full of apprehension.

  Tony put on a fake grin and winked; Lucky diverted her stare.

  Just then the other girl he’d picked came back from talking to the dodgy farang in the corner sporting a ponytail, goatee, and shades.

  ‘You get it?’ Tony asked her straight away.

  She just pursed her lips and nodded her head downwards in one firm movement.

  ‘Good. Let’s get out of here.’ He stood up. ‘Oh, Lucky, meet Star,’ Tony said, looking from Star to Lucky, who had suddenly gone frosty. She’ll warm up once I get my dick into her, Tony thought and grinned. ‘Lucky. Star. Lucky Star! Must be my lucky day!’

  He stubbed out his fag in the ashtray. ‘Go pay your bar fine,’ he ordered, throwing another wad of money on the table ‘And split what’s left between you, I’m feeling generous…’

  The girls walked away twittering that slant eyed skata to each other.

  Tony shook his head as he watched them leave. ‘Cheers, Christo…’ he said to the cheap disco lights overhead before he followed, gulping down his beer.

  *****

  Tony jumped in the shower. He told Star to get the shit ready while he washed the outside stink and sweat off him; he was clucking and needed his fix. He let the cool water flow over his overheated body. It felt almost as good as a nice cold beer.

  Ah, ten thousand Baht a month! Peanuts.

  Shoulda cashed the jewels and come out here years ago. Fuck the oath, it meant nothing!

  Fucking Nick Black. Fucking Judas!

  He spat into the drain at the thought and watched his phlegm roll round and round with the flow of the water and disappear into the plughole. Anyway, the past is the past, life’s a bitch and all the rest of it. He turned his attention to more pressing matters. Tony turned off the shower and hopped out, wrapping a towel round his waist. He stopped in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection—his hairy tits were getting bigger and droopier, his gold stavro hanging on a chain round his neck sitting neatly between them. He sighed, grabbed a moob in each hand, and lifted them up, seeing if that made them look any better. Soon, you’ll need a fucking bra, re… he told himself. He smirked at the thought. I’m growing tits and who gives a shit?

  He slicked his hair back from the brow and stepped into his bedroom/front room to see Star rolling up a hundred Baht note, freshly cut lines of coke on the table ready a
nd waiting in front of her.

  Tony nodded in appreciation. Good girl…

  She sniffed up a line before handing the tubed note to Lucky. Lucky took it, put it up to her nose, and bent her head over the table. Tony smiled.

  He heard Lucky sniff hard before he went over to join them. ‘Save some for me, you greedy bitches!’ he said as he shoved his way in between them. Lucky lifted her head up and stared at him. Her eyes were glazing and a lot of the frost from earlier had melted. Tony placed his index finger under her chin and tilted her face upwards to meet his stare; her eyes were now totally glazed. A smile flittered across her face as the coke went to work. Tony grinned and took the makeshift tooter off her.

  Good shit, eh, Lucky?

  He bent down and hoovered up his line like a pro, and then threw his head back. He instantly numbed. His body, his blood, his mind. Blissful numbness. No more thoughts. No more thinking. No more memories.

  And now the party could start.

  Star already had her top off and was removing her shorts. Tony pointed to the half-empty bottle of whisky sitting on his bedside cabinet. Lucky went and retrieved it. He threw off the cap and took a big gulp. His numbed throat felt no alcohol burn, so he swiftly had another.

  Lucky laughed. ‘Slow down,’ she said to him. ‘You kill yourself.’

  Tony flinched as if he had just received a lashing, and stood staring dumbly at her for a few seconds. ‘I died ages ago,’ he then replied without emotion. And then grinned again. ‘Me dead looooong time, baby,’ he said in a more jovial voice and handed the bottle to Lucky. ‘Here.’ Lucky took it from him and sniffed the contents. Her face scrunched up and she pulled away.

  ‘Come on, baby,’ Tony said, lifting the bottle up to her mouth. ‘Get it down you…’

  Lucky took an apprehensive sip before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Ugh!’ she let out afterwards. Tony laughed. Star, now butt naked, came to join them, coming up behind Tony. Tony took the bottle from Lucky and held it over his shoulder. Star took a huge swig and let out a satisfied gasp afterwards.

  ‘Nice!’ Tony shouted. ‘You see how it’s done?’ he asked Lucky.

  ‘She crazy!’ Lucky replied.

  Tony just laughed. Hands grabbed the towel round his waist and ripped it off him, throwing it to the floor. More hands then ran over his stomach and crotch, making him grin. He grabbed Lucky and pulled her in towards him. He kissed her, yanking her skirt down. In no time, Lucky was stripped and Tony was sandwiched between them. All three ran their hands all over each other’s sweaty bodies; working his cock trying to get it hard; fingers in pussies; taking it in turns to kiss, lick and suck.

  He threw Lucky down on his bed; she hit the mattress with a yelp. He hooded up, went and flipped her over, and stuck his semi erect cock into her. He rode her doggy, the combination of the drugs and latex numbing most of, if not all of the pleasure; a dead wave of emotionless, robotic sex, just like on all those porn DVDs he used to get off his driving instructor. He pumped harder, working desperately to get something out of it, Lucky letting out a fake ‘ooooh, baaaby,’ to try and get him off quicker. Star was riding shotgun, massaging his left moob.

  After a longish frenzy of sweat drenched thrusting, he finally managed to work his way up to a predictable, bog standard climax with girl number…fifty? No, sixty? No, no…

  He caught a glimpse of Lucky’s contorted face as his flaccid cock slipped out of her pussy and thought:

  who fucking cares…?

  *****

  Tony lay on his bed a few hours later, smoking a fag and staring out into the dark sky through his balcony window. He was on a coke comedown; Lucky Star lay sprawled on the bed, fast asleep, knackered. He smirked to himself and took another drag on his fag.

  Tomorrow was visa run day. A royal pain in the kolo, but the alternative was getting holed up in a detention centre somewhere as an illegal alien.

  The border was Hell; it put any London slum in check. Degenerates. Limbs cut off, begging for money. Once there was a bloke who Tony suspected had gouged his own eyes out to try and get sympathy cash. Looking at him reminded him of Taki.

  Jesus, Taki…

  Suddenly, he was having flashbacks to that night round the back of the church and it hurt his head.

  It’s your fault, Charlie said to him at the time. It’s your fucking fault!

  Taki…

  He did his best to wipe the image from his mind, but he couldn’t. Once it was there, it was hard to shift. Another line of coke would do the trick. He went and cut one up, and forced it into his numb nose. He stood upright and stared out into the balcony again. It looked so cool outside, so refreshing, so inviting; the sky dark, but friendly; enticing. The memories of Taki and the rest of it had been blotted temporarily, but not entirely banished. Maybe if he could give them to the sky… throw them away into the night sky, he could—

  The phone on his bedside cabinet then began ringing, making him almost jump out of his skin. He spun round to face it and stared at it wide eyed like it was a ravenous crocodile. The girls squirmed in their sleep at the ringing sound, but they didn’t wake up. Who the fuck is that ringing at this time? he thought to himself with mild alarm. Maria? But she usually called when it was daytime here. She knew the time difference, why would she be ringing now?

  The phone continued to ring.

  Should I even answer it?

  He rubbed his head for a second, and then stepped over to it. With a now shaking hand (Why am I nervous?) he picked up the receiver and placed it next to his ear.

  He paused for a second, breath baited, staring at the two girls on the bed, sweat starting to form on his forehead. ‘Hello?’ he said quietly into the receiver.

  ‘Tony.’ It wasn’t Maria after all, but a man’s voice, clear as a bell, and for a second or two his mind worked crazily because he thought it was him; almost certain. His heart leapt up into his throat and he could taste it—a hot doughy ball of lead. But, once the initial shock passed, the voice registered in his mind. It was someone he knew, in the life before.

  ‘Charlie?’ It was a question more than anything, just to make sure, make sure it really was Charlie and not him.

  ‘Yeah, it’s me, Tone.’

  Tony breathed deep; relieved. ‘Thank fuck it’s you, Charlie,’ he gasped. Then slightly confused: ‘Where did you get this number—’

  ‘Tony, listen to me.’ There was another long pause, and Tony stopped talking and listened, his eyes scanning the darkness of his room.

  Then Charlie spoke again. ‘Marco’s back,’ he said.

  Suddenly everything went black around Tony for a few moments as if he had slipped into unconsciousness. When he began blinking again, reality returned. But that reality brought with it a numbness that was suddenly developing on his left cheek and he wondered what it was, oblivious to the fact that he had just slapped himself hard without even realising; his subconscious making sure he wasn’t dreaming and this was real. But when Charlie’s voice carried on down the line, he definitely knew it was.

  ‘He gave me your number,’ he continued. ‘And he told me to tell you… told me to tell you… that you can’t run. You can’t run, Tone. He said… he said… he’ll find you. No matter where you go, he’ll find you. You can’t hide. You can’t… run…’

  Now the whole of Tony was numb and it wasn’t the coke that was doing it, it was the ghost-like voice floating through the telephone receiver and into his ear. He felt like he was dreaming, but knew he wasn’t. He was hearing the words, but they weren’t registering. He didn’t want to hear them. But, deep down, he knew that he would be hearing them some day.

  And that day had just arrived.

  ‘Are you still there, Tone?’ Charlie asked.

  The words snapped Tony back into life. He went to say yes, but nothing came out because his mouth was so dry. He leant down and picked up the almost empty bottle of whisky from the bed, accidentally knocking Lucky on the thigh with it. She stirred, but didn�
��t wake up. He wedged the receiver between his ear and shoulder while he unscrewed the cap and downed what was left in the bottle, swishing it round his mouth first. It tasted rancid. Now tasted like what it was—a fucking horrible, nasty brew. He winced.

  ‘Tony?’

  ‘Yeah, Charlie,’ he replied, now his mouth wasn’t so dry. ‘I’m still here. I heard what you said. He’s back. And he’s found me.’ He nodded his head. ‘I knew he would…’

  ‘What are you gonna do, Tone?’

  ‘What can I do, Charlie? You know what it means.’ Tony sounded mournful, even in his own ears.

  There was a brief pause. Then: ‘Yeah. Yeah, I do, Tone.’

  Tony took in a deep breath and just stared at the girls on the bed. They were nothing; just a couple of putanes he picked up off the streets. ‘There is nothing we can do is there?’ Tony asked, now noticing how the phone was trembling, then realising that his hand was full on shaking.

  ‘No, Tone. Nothing. What’s done is done.’

  Tony closed his eyes and nodded in the darkness. ‘You know, Charlie, I wish more than anything I could turn the clock back and change what happened, do it all differently. Then we wouldn’t be having this conversation, and I wouldn’t be out here, sleeping with endless amounts of putanes, wouldn’t have these fucking moobs neither…’

  ‘I know, Tone. I know…’

  Tony shook his head. He tightened his grip on the phone, took in a deep breath, and let out a long sigh. ‘Tell Maria I love her,’ he said into the receiver before instantly placing it back down in its cradle. A few seconds later and it began to ring again. Tony immediately ripped its cable out of the wall, shutting it off for good.

  He turned away and grabbed his head, a million negative thoughts racing through his mind. Marco’s back… Marco’s back… You can’t run… He stared outside at the balcony again. It looked so inviting outside—the world; the sky. The room he was in was now dark and claustrophobic in comparison; a prison cell. He wanted fresh air. He marched to the window on jelly-like legs.

  He pulled open the mosquito screen and stepped barefoot onto the hot concrete balcony. The warm air outside smothered his skin like he had just stepped into a furnace, Bangkok buzzing below and around him. A few hours ago, he would have hated that feeling, now it was like a relief. The darkness was behind him and now he was in the light. Stars burned brightly in the sky like a sequined velvet blanket. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of hot, city air. When he opened them, his stare locked onto a gecko that scampered across the wall ahead of him and disappeared back down the other side.