Work Text:
You had only been in a relationship with Joe for a short amount of time, but you knew he could be the one. You loved how soft he was. He looked like a manly man, but he loved snuggles, and being cuddled up on the sofa with you under a blanket watching Eastenders. You found it amusing how he acted like he wanted to be one of the Mitchell brothers, but he was nothing of the sort. He may have dressed like a wannabe gangster, but he wasn’t. It was a pleasant change from the other men that surrounded you, who looked like they would offer you a tenner for anal.
He was always spoiling you with gifts and money. He bought you a new telly recently, but you felt weird accepting cash. You joked that you weren’t a prostitute expecting payment, but he insisted that you take the money and treat yourself.
His blue eyes could make you melt. After a shower, when all the gel that slicked his hair back was gone, and all that remained was his unfiltered self, his gentle smile gave you butterflies. With his long floppy hair, he looked like he could have been in a boy band, which he vehemently hated that you brought up. He was a certified soft boy ™. His favourite sex position was deep missionary for God’s sake.
You knew he ran a loan company, but you didn’t know anything past that, and you didn’t care to know. Finance stuff like that didn’t interest you, so even if he explained it further, it would have gone completely over your head. You didn’t know the brutality of his work. You were none the wiser to the fierceful brute that half the town owed money to.
And that was just what he wanted.
Because he did have two sides. He had his work side, where aggression, and dodgy deals had got him to where he was. And he had his home side, where he wanted to be a good boyfriend. As a child, he heard his parents fight. He would be in his bedroom he shared with his brothers, and at night, they would hear the screaming. Their dad yelling at their mum and the top of his lungs, and their mum sobbing. They were all too scared to leave their bedroom. What could any of them have done as kids? They were all terrified of the angry man in the house. Joe wished he could go back to his childhood and knock his dad out. He was scared to hit him as a boy, but the man he now was, he knew contacts to dispose of his body after he was finished with him.
So he swore he was going to treat his wife better than his mum was treated. When it came to arguing with people who owed him money, he could do it. But arguing and fighting against women he loved, he would remember his mother’s sobs, and felt like that scared kid again.
”So, when are we finally gonna meet your fella?” Your friend Stella asked. You had met her in the Greedy Slits, and she seemed to need your company. Charlie was relieved she was spending time with you in a cafe rather than at the fruit machines. A brew was cheaper than however much Stella had gathered for her betting.
“Oh, I don’t know. Soon. I can’t imagine Joe being very social,” you defended, not being able to imagine Joe liking Stella.
“So he’s fit, but doesn’t have the personality to match? That’s the worst,” chatted Stella.
“I think he's got a nice personality. He wouldn’t hurt a fly,” you defended, not wanting Stella to think he was a nasty guy.
”What’s his name again? I wanna know if Charlie would know him,” she asked.
”Joseph Lisgoe. He has his own loan company, apparently. I’ve never seen it, but I’m sure if I asked him he………….,” you petered off, seeing the colour drain from Stella’s face. She looked like she had seen a ghost, and the first thing that came to your mind was that he might have been one of Stella’s exes. How long had she been with Charlie? You couldn’t think of any other reason why his name would give Stella so much dread.
“Lisgoe? God, you’ve got yourself a bad one there. Get out while you can, that’s my advice.”
You couldn’t even take in what she was saying. She implying something you thought was impossible: that your Joe was a bad person.
“You know him?” you asked.
“He’s a loan shark and debt collector all rolled up into one manic psychopath. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of him. He’ll beat the crap out of you for his money. I’ve owned him a few times, but always paid back. I don’t want him using his intimidation on me,” she explained.
You didn’t want to believe her, because it just didn’t make any sense. Had there been two Joe Lisgoes that had lived in Royston Vasey? Because the man she had described was not your boyfriend.
Stella could see you in disbelief, and took another sip of tea. “Go down to that old industrial estate if you don’t believe me. He’s set up in a storage container.”
You were going to, just to prove her wrong. You were going to go there and see a legitimate loan business, and tell her that she had got the wrong end of the stick. Joe was a business man, not a malicious villain.
Whenever Joe spoke about work, you assumed he worked in an office block, not on an empty bit of concrete. As Stella said, there was a storage container there, and as much as you didn’t want to believe Joe would be there, his BMW was parked up beside it. You tentatively walked towards the container, nervous as to what you might see. You wanted to remain hopeful, but with every step you took under the grey sky, the same dread that filled Stella at Joe’s mere name, started to fill you too.
Before you reached the door, you heard voices. And not calm voices either. Clear as day, you heard Joe’s voice screaming at someone.
“Maybe if I cut some of this fat off, you’d be able to chase after them,” he raged. “Why did I hire such a lardy arse in the first place?”
His voice made you wince. You had never heard him raise his voice like that, you couldn’t even imagine him angry.
“Now you better start earning me some money, or I’ll slit your throats,” Lisgoe demanded.
At his threat, your eyes began to water. The criminal Stella had described was right there inside those four metal walls. In an instant, the future you had pictured for yourself had been torn away. You thought you might have married him and had a few kids, but not with this monster. How much longer before he showed his aggression towards you? You didn’t want to be a victim of domestic abuse, so in many ways you were glad Stella knew him. You believed she had saved you in the long run.
You wanted to confront him. Show him that his act was over. You knew exactly who he was now, and what he was capable of. You did not want to be tied down to an angry man, and while you knew the logical thing would be to break up with him, in your mind you still saw his smile, and gentle laughter, and it demanded you to fight for that version of him.
As you pushed the door handle down and pulled the door open, you didn’t expect to see a large man cowered on the floor. Joe had a vase in his hand, raised up ready to use, but as he looked up to see who had interrupted them, he lowered his hand and placed it back on his desk. His eyes instantly went to your teary ones, and he had to comfort you. He quickly conjured up a narrative in his head: that something had happened and you needed him, so you asked around to get this address. Because Joe had never told you where his work was, and it was the only thing he could think up as to why you had found him.
“You two wankers can piss off,” he dismissed, and the two gentlemen scurried out, glad to have been saved from his wrath.
“Baby,” he began, and walked towards you. “What’s happened?” He went to hold your face, but you batted his hands away.
You took a step back, and spun around to fully see your surroundings. You felt like a fool for bigging him up so much. You expected him to be running a fully functional, legitimate business- not this. Not a guy with addresses written on a whiteboard and how much they were in debt to him.
“So this is it, huh? No car park. No staff room. Just a metal tin to conduct your dodgy business transactions.”
“Everyone’s gotta start somewhere? But why are you here, what’s happened?” he pressed, still on edge due to your tears.
“Is this what I’m to expect now for the rest of my life? I mention your name to people, and they go white as a sheet. I just wanted to find love, for fucks sake,” you lamented, now sitting down on the sofa in defeat.
“Please tell me what’s happened,” he begged, now sitting down next to you. You didn’t want to be touched by him, and he didn’t know what he had done to upset you so much.
You hated that Stella was right. He was a man that was feared, and had a reputation you had no idea about.
“I don’t want to be in a relationship with an angry brute, sorry,” you apologised before standing up to leave.
“No, hey, wait,” Joe desperately said, now standing up and racing to the door to block it so you couldn’t leave. It had suddenly appeared to him that you weren’t going to just leave the room, you wanted to leave his life. “Let’s talk, yeah?”
”You are who you are. I don’t expect you to change,” you counseled. You were sure there was a woman out there who would love the aggression, but that wasn’t you.
“What have I ever done to you that you didn’t like? Have I been too clingy? Not manly enough for you?”
“You do know I just heard you scream at those two men. How much longer before you would have turned on me?” You quizzed, now reaching towards the door handle. However, he took both your hands and yanked them away. He then laced his fingers with yours, and you saw the pleading look in his eyes.
“The way I act at work has nothing to do with us. I would never treat you like one of those idiots. You know that, right? Deep down. You know I would never hurt you,” he reasoned.
You knew he had never acted that way towards you, but that didn’t mean that side of him would never face you.
“You’re my everything. You know that?”
There it was. The Lisgoe smile and eyes that gave you that warm, fuzzy feeling. You wanted to believe him, and wanted to give him a chance.
“Okay……just don’t do any of that shit with me. I don't want to be dragged into this world,” you concurred, listening to your heart instead of your head.
“I’m only that way towards dickheads that don’t pay what they’re due, never you,” he comforted, and leaned in for a kiss. The sweet touch of his lips against yours made your walls come down, and you were putty in his hands again.