Chapter 53
Chapter fifty-three
“I was thinking we could go out later,” Sloan said as they languished in bed later that morning.
“Out?”
“Hm, dinner maybe?”
Matty rolled over. “I’m sure Gloria would love that.”
“I wasn’t thinking of inviting her.”
“Oh, you mean like a date…just us?”
Sloan smiled slowly. “Yes. We’ve been doing this for weeks now. It feels like we should be doing more.”
“And you’re okay with leaving your mum at home?” Matty asked, sitting up.
The nod was small. “I think so. She’s been different lately. She’s asking for help when she needs it, not complaining when it’s offered. And you were right—there are a lot of things she can manage by herself.”
Matty leaned in. “Then I absolutely want to go out with you.” The kiss was slow and tender.
“I’ll book us a table for seven. That way we can sort Mum’s dinner and medication before we go, and she can take herself up to bed when she’s ready.”
“She can always call if she needs you.”
"Hm…not sure she's got the hang of that phone yet." Sloan chuckled, picturing Gloria's expression every time the screen lit up—equal parts suspicion and outrage. "I'll leave the landline within reach just in case."
“Anyone getting up or am I making my own breakfast?” Gloria shouted, banging on the door.
Sloan groaned, sitting up. “Yes, coming.” She turned back to Matty. “Stay in bed. Rest. I’ve plans for you later.”
“What makes you think I don’t have plans for you?”
“Touché.” Sloan laughed and got up, shrugging into her dressing gown. “I’ll be right back.”
***
Mid-afternoon, Matty headed home to get changed, with Sloan’s instructions she should return at six to drop her things off before the Uber arrived.
“We’ll stop for cocktails on the way,” Sloan had said as Matty kissed her goodbye on the doorstep.
Now, as she neared the flat she shared, she felt a spring in her step. For once, life felt like it was on the up.
She slid the key into the door and took the stairs two at a time.
“Just me,” she called out to voices in the kitchen. A man popped his head around the door. She didn’t recognise him, but Brandon pushed past and smiled awkwardly at her.
“Alright, Matty.” He looked back over his shoulder at the man who now stared at her. “Just got some friends here.”
“Right,” Matty said, the hairs on the back of her neck lifting. “I’ll just be grabbing a quick change and then you’ve got the place to yourself.”
Brandon was nodding rapidly. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
Something about the other man made her want to move faster and she turned and dashed away. Behind her, she heard him ask Brandon, “She won’t be an issue, will she?”
Matty ran into her room and shut the door. Leaning against it, she got her breathing back under control. Who was this man? And what was Brandon up to now?
She needed a calming voice—someone to settle her nerves and talk her out of all the paranoid and ridiculous notions running around her head. She pulled her phone free to call Sloan.
“Damn it.” The battery was dead. The charging cable was on the floor beside her bed, and she rushed over to it, plugging it into the phone.
Okay. Breathe. Think.
Glancing around the room, she saw her work rucksack, but she’d left her skates at Art last night in her rush to get into the Uber Sloan had organised.
She opened it, pulling out the dirty T-shirt and tossing it into the laundry bin, then opened drawers and began stuffing it with clothes—enough for a few days.
And that was when she heard it.
***
Everything happened too fast for Matty to think. There was a loud bang, then a crash, then shouting and feet trampling up the stairs. Too many. Her mind snapped back to the man in the kitchen. Was it him? Had he brought friends?
Her throat closed. Her hands went slick on the rucksack strap and she gripped it harder. Could she climb out the window?
She lurched for the window, yanked it open, and looked down—a long way down—too long.
The door was kicked in. Matty screamed.
All she saw was a man in black filling the doorway, broad-shouldered and moving fast, coming straight for her.
“Get away from me!” Matty shouted.
He grabbed her and threw her to the bed. She landed on her stomach, all the air in her rushing out when his knee landed on her back and her arms were yanked behind her and cuffed.
“You have the right to remain silent—”
She was hauled to her feet, her bag kicked to one side. “You’re police?” she said, finally understanding. “What have I done?”
He ignored her. “Anything you say can and will be—”
“You’re making a mistake!” Matty bucked against him, but his grip just tightened. “Ow—you’re hurting me!”
“Used against you in a court of law.”
He dragged her out of the room and down the hall. She caught a glimpse of more officers in the flat. Brandon was on the floor, hands behind his back. Next to him, the man from the kitchen looked like he’d put up a fight, his nose bloodied.
“Brandon? What’s going on?” Matty called out to him.
“Matty, just don’t say anything,” he shouted back.
A policewoman met them at the top of the stairs and took over from the one whose fingers had already bruised Matty’s arm.
“Come on. Don’t make it difficult,” she said to Matty as she guided her down the steps.
“I haven’t done anything!” Matty snapped.
“Yeah, they all say that,” the officer sneered.
“I swear,” Matty said again. “I’ve not done anything.”
The commotion at the top of the stairs killed any chance of explaining. Scuffling, shouting, the ugly sound of someone being manhandled, made Matty do the only thing she could—move, keep her head down, get out of the way.
Outside, people had stopped to gawp. Camera phones lifted in a row, all pointed at her as she was shoved over the threshold, down the step, and out into the street towards a waiting police van.
“Sit still. Be quiet,” the copper warned as she was bundled inside and shoved onto a bench behind a metal grille.
“You’ve got this all wrong.”
The words died on her lips as the van door slammed shut.
Matty stamped her feet, the sound swallowed by steel. “Brandon, I’m going to kill you!” she screamed.