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Before Christie could move Green was in close, raining blows into his stomach and the side of his body, then one quick step back, bringing the elbow up into Christie’s face, a punch swinging from the left followed by another from the right. Blood, from a cut above one eye, spat across the wall as Christie’s head was twisted first one way and then another. Green was caught up in the moment. Christie screamed, but Green hit in the mouth again and the scream died.

      Christie’s legs buckled and his head slumped forward on his chest and his body slid down the wall. Blood was running from his nose and a cut on the side of his mouth.

      Green continued to rain punches on him as he drifted down to the floor. Christie’s shirt was splattered red with his blood. He screamed again as a blow from Green caught him above the kidneys. Christie reached the floor and Green kicked him.

      “What’s going on?” a voice shouted from outside the room.

      Green looked quickly over his shoulder and kicked Christie again.

      A loud knock at the door.

      Barron grabbed Green and pulled him back, stumbling as he squirmed to free himself and they bumped into the table. The door slammed open and Malone ran into the room.

      “What the hell is going on?” he shouted.

      Barron gained his balance, shook free one arm and slapped Green once, across the face and Green was suddenly still.

      “What the hell did you do that ...”

      “Shut up!”

      “My God,” Malone was saying.

      “But, you can’t ...”

      “Shut up, damn it!”

      Green looked into Barron’s face with surprise, his arms dangled by his side, fists clenched. He was sullen and quiet.

      “Geoff?” Malone said.

      “You shut up too,” Barron snapped at Malone. And to Green, “Get out of this room. Go downstairs. Wait for me there.”

      Green looked like he was going to say something. His chest heaved and he sighed, audibly. He turned and left the room, leaving the door wide open.

      “You go with him,” Barron said to Malone.

      “But ...”

      “Do it. I’ll be okay.”

      “And Christie?”

      “I’ll take care of him. Go after him.”

      Malone looked at Christie lying still on the floor and then back to Barron.

      “Do I have to order you?”

      “No. I’m gone,” Malone said.

      Barron stared after him for a while and then turned to Christie. He squatted beside him and slowly helped him to his feet and then held him there, pinning him to the wall so that he would not fall again. He brought his face in close to Christie’s.

      “I should have let him kill you,” Barron said quietly. He stared into Christie’s eyes, hardly three inches from his own. “I don’t care if you never speak again. Don’t care if you never know who I am or who you are. We’ve got enough to put you away for a long, long time.” Christie looked at Barron and brought one hand up to touch the cut near his eye. “But I think that’s too good for you, James Christie. Just give me an opportunity, just one, and I’ll make sure you never get to court.”

      Christie’s head lolled forward and Barron grabbed his hair and yanked his head up.

      “Hear me, you fucker!” he hissed. “You mutilated that woman and you deserve only one thing - to go in exactly the same way.”

      Christie looked at Barron. His tongue licked at the blood on his lips and as Barron let him go he slid back to the floor and stayed there.

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