Chapter Eighteen
In which there is nothing finer than the kindness of strangers.
Sloan…
Flora pushes me into the little bathroom first thing to take a shower and one look in the mirror tells me why.
“Oh, my god I’m a mess,” I groan, mentally counting all the little scrapes and cuts, the weird rash on my shoulder, and the mess of my ribcage. There’s even a tree branch snarled in my hair. A big one. I look like one of the Hill People who just blew into town still gnawing on a squirrel leg.
She knocks on the door. “I’m leavin’ you some clothes, hurry with that shower, aye? The hot water’s for shite.”
The showerhead is balanced precariously over the clawfoot tub and the water’s a bit rusty when it first streams out and it is the best shower I have ever experienced in my lifetime. Sure, the water pressure sucks but the warmth streaming down my back is heaven. By the time I hurry through scrubbing every inch of my body, there’s an appalling brown ring around the tub.
Quickly cleaning it, I open the door just enough to grab the little pile of clothes. Her daughter’s taller than me and not quite as blessed up top, but even though the shirt stretches across my breasts, everything fits.
“I dinna like the looks of your ribs.”
Flora’s gently touching the swollen, bruised-black skin over my ribcage and I flinch. “Sorry.”
“Stop sayin’ you’re sorry,” she scolds.
“Sor- I mean, thank y-” I start laughing, then wheezing when my ribs punish me with a vicious red bolt of pain through my chest.
“He do this?” Flora asks, mouth tight.
“No!” I feel an unreasonable need to defend Ethan. “I was in… a crash.”
“Ya need a doctor,” she says.
“It’s fine.” I’m not risking a clinic or a… what do they call the ER in Scotland? An A&E. They want names. ID. “I’ve broken a rib before. I just need to be careful with it.”
Her faded blue eyes here hard, her mouth tight. But Flora nodded reluctantly. “I’ve got some arnica cream to help the bruising a little.”
“Thank-” She narrowed her eyes at me playfully and my mouth snapped shut.
“There’s people who can help ya,” she says, sorting laundry on the kitchen table. “I can make some calls. We can get ya out of Glasgow.”
I pick up a dish towel, folding it neatly. “It’s… it’s more complicated than that. I’m essentially running from two different groups of people.”
Eyeing me keenly, she shook her head. “I dinna think it was something illegal. Ya don’t look the type.”
Why does this wound me? “I could be a criminal!”
Laughing at me, she shakes her head. “A’course. Let’s make a plan, then.”
“I’ve got a friend sending me money tomorrow.” This is a huge leap of faith and I have enormous difficulty trusting anyone. But Flora risked her own safety to help me. “It will be under your name though, I don’t have any ID.”
She nods, “There’s a cash app store a couple of blocks from the shop, we’ll get there first thing tomorrow, then.”
I know she’ll refuse it, so I’ll have to find a sneaky way to split the money with her. She’s brave and strong and everything I hope I can be. One day, when I’m not this anxiety-ridden, paranoid mess.
Eventually. But for now, I’m going to curl up on her daughter’s tiny twin bed and be grateful for my good fortune. I got away from the Scottish Demon. Nate and Carmella are safe, they have money. I’ve kept it together this long. I don’t care what Ethan said. I can stay on the run from my bastard stepfather for as long as I have to. Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll be hit by a bus or something.
A girl can dream.
I did dream that night, curled under a bedspread covered with the giant, leering faces of the boys from a South Korean boy band. I dream that Ethan’s prowling up and down the street, growling and stopping at each house, nostrils flared, searching for me. His dark eyes are glowing red, his shoulders impossibly wider, and his hands sprouting vicious, sharp claws.
“You can’t hide.” Even his usually sonorous, deep voice is distorted into something animal-like. “I’ll find you. When I do, I’ll punish you.”
My fist is wedged in my mouth as I wake up, panting and terrified. Sliding off the bed, I crawl to the little window and peek outside, somehow fully expecting him to be standing there with his glowing eyes.
“Just a bad dream,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. “No more bad dreams tonight.”
In the morning, Flora drives me to the cash app store, where the link sent to her phone can be transferred into cash. “Are ya sure about this?” she asks, eyeing the tiny store doubtfully. It’s really just a corner with a counter and a boatload of computers stuffed in a hipster-style coffee house. Dozens of twenty-somethings slouch at their tables, toying with their laptops and consuming endless mugs of coffee. It’s a nice place, with low wood beams overhead and lots of plants in the big, paned windows.
“It’ll be fine,” I look around us on the street, checking for anyone watching us, or suspiciously slow cars. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”
She cackles, “I’ll be buying my own drink, are ya remembering you’re broke?”
We’re walking up to the counter as I scout for exits to the bathroom or other doors to the outside. “This is true. How about if I buy you a scone after?”
She pats my shoulder. “Let’s get ya sorted.”
The hipster at the counter is scrolling through something on his laptop and he hastily shuts it as we approach. He was watching porn, then. He’s got a multitude of piercings and wears eyeliner like a pro. I can’t even get mine that straight.
“Aye?” he says crossly.
“Hi, we’re here to redeem a cash link?” I thrust Flora’s phone at him hopefully, still checking the door over my shoulder.
He eyes the phone like it’s a snake about to bite him. “Need some ID.”
With an impatient sigh, Flora slaps down her wallet, opens it to her driver’s license, and glares at him. While he goes through the steps with all the speed and enthusiasm of a eucalyptus-stoned sloth, I check the door again. Three girls wearing University of Glasgow sweatshirts stroll in, laughing and whispering to each other.
It’s okay. I try to soothe my pounding heart. We’re almost out of here.
The hipster is casually opening another window on his computer, taking a leisurely drink from his coffee mug.
“Look-” I force a smile, “if we could be quite quick, I’m late for my shift at work, and…”
“Aye,” he yawns, “on it.”
God, I want to punch him in the face.
I check the door again. No one comes in, a rumpled-looking businessman leaves with his traveling mug sloshing tea over the edge.
Sighing as if I’ve sent all the plagues of Egypt upon him, the hipster pulls Flora’s ID closer. “Here ya are…” He squints. “That’s a lot. I’m gonna have to access the vault.”
I feel like pounding my head against the counter. Flora gives him a sharp glare. “Well, get to it then!”
I hate this I hate this I hate this… The frantic little voice in my head keeps fretting and I try to shut it up. This is a gigantic city. The MacTavishes cannot be everywhere. I’m almost home free. Then on to Spain, maybe. Greece? The islands off the coast there are so beautiful… Maybe Morocco?
Our clerk is back, giving us a resentful expression as he slaps a cash envelope in front of us. “Count it here before ya leave,” he grouses, “no changes or refunds.”
My fingers are shaking and I drop a couple of bills, cursing myself and quickly starting over. I’m so involved in speeding through the count that the scent registers first.
Scotch and mint. Expensive cologne and clean cotton.
“Darling, I’ve been waiting for hours,” Ethan says in a fond, indulgent tone as his arm wraps around me like a steel vise. “Are ya all settled, then?”
My breath’s caught in my throat, strangling me. His mouth dips to my ear, “Dinna make a fuss.” Then I see his asshole cousin Michael, cold and expressionless and standing behind Flora, pulling back his jacket to show a giant pistol in his shoulder holster.
Mindlessly shoving the cash back into the envelope, I’m too loud and cheerful. “Sure am!”
His grip on my waist tightens as he steers me toward the door. Flora’s right behind us, shadowed by Michael, who’s subtly looming over her with his height and bulk. There’s a rattling sound and I realize it’s me, my hands are shaking so badly that it’s a miracle I haven’t dropped the money.
Once outside, Ethan half-lifts me with his arm, speedwalking toward a black SUV, waiting at the curb with the engine running.
“Stop! Stop- wait,” I manage between numb lips, “let her go. Flora protected me. She doesn’t deserve this.”
Growling low in his throat, he lifts me into the back seat, pushing me over the seat so he can get in behind me.
“I’ll scream my lungs out, ya arsehole!” Flora’s struggling against Michael’s hold on her arm. “Let her go, ya fecking arseholes! Women beating pieces of shite!”
Passers-by are slowing down, watching the scene and Michael puts her on the seat facing us and slams the door.
“No! Let her go!” I can’t look at Ethan, the way you can’t look at an eclipse, like it’s beautiful and yet it will still blind you. “She doesn’t know anything, she’s a good person!”
“Ma’am, if ya try to punch me one more time I’m handcuffing ya.” Michael’s losing patience as Flora starts slapping at him, shouting insults.
The SUV pulls away from the curb.
“Look, I won’t do anything. I won’t run.” My face is burning hot, but I’m shaking, my skin chilly and my arms and legs don’t feel attached to my body. “Just please let her go.”
Ethan stares her down, his mouth tight. “Ya know who we are, then?”
Flora snorts. “An abusive piece of shite, aye?”
I wish I could bury my face in my hands, but I can’t move.
“MacTavish Clan,” Ethan says. “Ya cause a fuss and no one will believe ya. Mind your business and your girl stays at Uni, all safe and sound.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ!” Now, I can look at him. “You sick- really? You’re threatening her daughter?”
Flora’s gone pale and it makes me hate myself. I never should have gotten her involved. This is my fault.
“It took less than two minutes to find out all about Mrs. Flora MacAulay,” he says pleasantly. “Very noble of ya, ma’am. Thank you for keeping my girl safe and sound.”
“I was keepin’ her safe and sound from the likes of you!” Flora shouts.
“Please, Flora?” I lean forward, pushing the cash envelope into her hand. “It’s okay. I’ll figure this out. Please just take this and- and forget about me. Thank you for…” I shake my head, watching her eyes fill with tears. “For being my friend.”
She sucks in a deep breath between her teeth. “Aye, I know who ya entitled feckers are.” She glares at Ethan. “Promise me ya won’t hurt her. Your kind are supposed to not go after women. I’ve heard that much at least.”
He puts his hand to his chest. “I vow on my mother’s name that I will not hurt Sloan. I will keep her safe.”
You lying son of a bitch , I seethe helplessly. Flora’s looking at me with concern and I force a smile. “It’s okay,” I say, “he… won’t hurt me.”
Who’s the liar now?
“Please, just take the money. I will never be able to repay your kindness.” I can feel my last escape route slam shut as I wrap her fingers around the money. “Don’t say anything to anyone, okay? I’ll be fine.”
Michael nods at the driver and he pulls the SUV over. Flora wraps me in a fierce hug. “Ya can run with me,” she whispers, “we can run.”
I hug her back, tears dripping down my cheeks. “It’s too late. Please. Go take care of your girl. Use the money for her tuition or something. I promise you, he won’t hurt me,” I lie, the words like ashes in my mouth.
With a last look of dislike at Ethan, she reluctantly allows Michael to help her out of the car, I twist to watch her as we pull away.