Thomas dragged himself upright. His broken arm hurt like fuck. That fucking bastard Dave was going to pay for this. He got out of the garage as the couple were running past the trash that he'd left out for tomorrow morning's collection. Dave turned his head to see if Thomas was after him, and as he did Thomas raised his gun. That made Dave panic. He failed to look where he was going and tripped over a bag of garbage, fell over head-first on to the ground.<br/><br/>The street wasn't lit, and it was dark now. Thomas couldn't see Claire anywhere- she'd vanished into the night, and there wasn't any point in shooting at someone who he couldn't see. The bitch had always been a fast runner, and now no doubt she'd be running to the cops. Thomas walked over to where Dave was. The boyfriend was getting up on his feet, looking fearfully at Thomas.<br/><br/>"You're gonna suffer, you little fuck." Thomas hit him across the face with his pistol; Dave was knocked down, and bleeding.