Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
LIAM
‘Strict rest with only light activity for the next few days. If you move too suddenly, or overdo it, you’ll land yourself right back in here, do you understand?
’ The nurse discharging me looks well and truly over my shit, and who can blame her.
Since Kat left, I’ve practically tried to drag myself out of here every time I could move.
Finally, Kim whispered in my ear that I needed to calm the fuck down if I wanted out, and that I could legally discharge myself against their order, but not if I was acting like a bloody toddler.
The pep talk might not have aligned with the NHS guidelines, but it worked.
For the past day, I’ve been a model patient, and then convinced them to let me go.
Ellie’s waiting outside by the time I make it out, and opens the car door for me after giving me a quick and gentle squeeze.
‘You scared us,’ she says as we drive.
‘Sorry,’ I murmur, looking at my phone for the fiftieth time today and still expecting a text that doesn’t come. I’ve heard from Kat nightly. A brief check-in so I know she’s alive. That’s it. My calls go unanswered. My texts are unread until the next check-in.
It’s driving me crazy. I need to see my girl. To hold her. To feel her heart beating and know she’s safe.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on? Why is Kat so mad at you? Why do you look like you’ve lost a fight with a bus?’
The questions are already making my head ache. I look over at her and sigh. I wish I could tell her. To stop all the secrets and lies and just let her in.
The more people you let in, the greater the chance of discovery. Especially when they're fucking a guy with an ulterior motive. It’s too dangerous for us all.
‘I was an idiot,’ I say at last. The truth.
‘That’s not an answer, Liam.’
‘It’s the only one I have.’
Her eye roll is severely over the top, but she doesn’t push. Which only compounds the guilt. I’m letting them all down with this crazy revenge scheme, and for what? To wrong some long-past hurts?
Doubts creep in, and I try to shake them off. Kat needs me to be strong. To help her.
Ellie pulls up beside the alley, moving to open her door until I grab her hand. Her brows lift in surprise as she turns to face me.
‘You know I love you, right?’ I’m not sure I’ve ever told her. I’m worried I might not get the chance if the world keeps tightening the tourniquet that chokes us.
Ellie’s eyes turn glassy, the deep brown gleaming in the Saturday evening sun. ‘I love you too.’
There are a few seconds of silence before she pulls me into a hug that makes me wince.
‘Just stop being such a massive bloody idiot, okay? And phone Mum.’
‘I will. On both counts. Soon.’
Getting out winds me, and I take a moment to lean on the car as the world spins.
‘And be fucking careful with whatever this is,’ she shouts as I close the door.
I lift a hand in a half-hearted wave as she drives off.
There’s only one thought that drives me on.
Kat.
The door’s locked, and it takes me a minute to locate my key in the folder of shit the nurse gave me with my belongings.
‘Kat?’ I call as I walk in.
Silence greets me. I know Reggie is with Sandra, but where’s Kat?
The room is neat and empty, so I make my way slowly to the bedroom.
Her desk is neat and tidy, but two new additions sit on it.
Additions that would look innocent enough to those who don’t know what we’re doing.
A map of the nearby countryside, with a small black heart stone covering a portion.
Lifting it carefully, I scan the words beneath.
Upper Stelling. The heart sat on the area where a small river meets a bridge, and I pulled it up on my map using a VPN and an anonymous browser. There’s a cottage right there.
That’s where my girl is.
I feel it.
The other addition is a manila envelope with two hearts drawn on the front.
Hearts that look just like the ones on my mask.
My fingers shake as I open it. Inside… another envelope.
My brow creases as I take it out. This one had writing on the front.
My girl’s handwriting. Even seeing that breaks my heart.
The thought of her sitting here alone and figuring it all out without me, because I’d been a monumental twatbag and shut down.
There are photos here that I don’t know if you’ll want to see.
They are of you as a kid. With your dad.
With them. I’m so sorry, Liam. They’re bad, and I didn’t want to leave them in the house as evidence.
I don’t want your pictures to end up on file somewhere.
I wanted to destroy them, but it’s not my place.
I love you.
I forgive you.
I hope you can forgive me too.
But Hugh needs to die. Tonight. There are bodies, Liam.
Small ones.
My hands are shaking when I finish reading. I remember the flashes. Thinking of Kat seeing those images makes me want to smash through the wall. It’s bad enough they put me through it, but now they have put those memories into her head in a visual way, too.
It takes a few minutes for me to breathe steadily enough to think straight. I bend as the world shifts again, pulling the box from under our bed. I toss the envelope in as I pull my mask out. Kat’s pink one is gone. And so are her knives and half of our sedative syringes.
She’s gone. My chest burns as I wrap my head around it. How long ago did she leave? What if I’m too late?
My ribs scream as I tear off my clothes and slip into my dark, baggier ones.
The ones that conceal me and blood equally well.
Oh god, my head is thumping already, and I haven’t even left the house.
The comfort of the bed calls me, and I stop just long enough to scoop up a pair of Kat’s discarded panties and press them to my nose, breathing her in like she’s a fucking pain med.
I wrap them around my wrist like a scrunchie and shudder when I see the syringes again.
When I bought the sedatives off a particularly dodgy guy called Razor, I couldn’t have imagined what it’s like to be poked with one.
There’s no way I’ll ever forget the terror of being conscious and aware, yet completely unable to move.
Locked into my head, with my meat sack unreachable.
Never again.
Panic rises at the memory, and I have to shove it down to get myself moving. I plug my phone in next to Kat’s, kicking off the software that keeps it active.
It’s not until I’m outside that the reality of the situation hits. I’m injured. Kat’s ten miles away. With the only car we own.
Fuck.
Calling an Uber will leave a track they can follow. Even a regular cab without an app will have a log that would trace me to being in the vicinity of Hugh’s house. Most cabs have cameras now too. I can’t ask Ellie to drive me to a house so I can murder some guy.
There’s a bike on its side outside the corner shop. I limp toward it, figuring I likely need it more urgently than whoever is inside. Lifting my leg enough to straddle the bike makes me want to vomit. Pedalling makes me see stars, and sweat pours down my face as I push onward.
I’m coming, Kat.
Just wait for me.
I have to get to her, because I’ll tear the fucking world apart if these assholes take one more thing from me.