25. Runaway
25
RUNAWAY
I hesitate for a fraction of a second before leading the way, knowing full well that stepping outside with Heath might be the worst decision I’ve ever made. But at this moment, trapped between a rock and a hard place, it feels like the only option I have. My heart races as I glance back at Ginny, who’s watching us with concern etched across her face. She takes a step toward us, but I quickly shake my head, sending her a silent message to stay put. “We won’t be long.”
Stepping out into the courtyard, I can feel the weight of the prying eyes from the window behind me, their curious gazes burning into my back. It’s like a spotlight, and I want nothing more than to be invisible. But, that’s not going to happen. I stop abruptly, turning to face Heath, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”
His lips curl into that familiar, smug smile, his confidence radiating from every pore as if he owns the very ground we stand on. “I think the real question is why you’d think you could just disappear without a word.”
A surge of frustration bubbles up inside me, the anger nearly suffocating as I take a step back. “You planted another tracker on my phone, didn’t you?”
“You’re quite the detective.”
I take another deliberate step back, needing space between us. I feel like I’m being backed into a corner, so I cross my arms even tighter, trying to create some semblance of a barrier between us. “I’m not in the mood for your games, Heath.”
He leans casually against the old tree in the middle of the courtyard, arms folded as if we’re about to have a pleasant conversation. His nonchalance only infuriates me more. “How about this, then?” he says, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I watched you last night.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I can’t stop the sharp intake of breath. My mind races, piecing together the implications of what he just said. He hadn’t just arrived here. He’s been here this whole time. Watching. Waiting. “Excuse me?”
Heath’s smirk widens, clearly enjoying the power he holds over me. “Yeah, I saw you. Flirting with all those men, dancing like you didn’t have a care in the world. Like I don’t matter.”
The realisation twists my stomach into knots. Every glance, every laugh, every innocent touch—I thought I was safe, thought I could have a moment to breathe. But he saw it all. “What do I have to do to make you leave me alone?”
His smug demeanour darkens, his eyes narrowing. “You think you can just walk away like we’re nothing?”
“We are nothing,” I spit back. “You’ve lost any hold you ever had on me, Heath. It’s over.”
His expression hardens, and before I can react, his hand shoots out and grips my arm with an iron-like force. My body goes rigid as I instinctively try to pull away, but he yanks me closer, his lips crashing onto mine in a brutal kiss. The taste of copper floods my mouth as his aggression splits my lip. Pain and anger collide inside me as I shove him with all the strength I can muster. “It’s not over until I say it’s over!”
I wipe the blood from my lip, my heart hammering in my chest. “I want nothing to do with you!” I shout, my voice echoing in the quiet courtyard. “I hate you, Heath. I fucking hate you!”
He releases me with a forceful shove, his chest heaving, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and disbelief. “You don’t mean that.”
“I mean every word.”
“What is it with you bitches? You all think you can just walk away. You don’t get it do you?”
“Get what?”
“You don’t get to decide that you’re done.”
A shiver runs down my spine, but I stand my ground. "I can and I did. You can’t control me anymore."
“Jacinta—” he starts, his voice dangerously low.
“Jacinta?” I cut him off, confused and angry. “I’m Saffy.”
His eyes flash with something dark, and the mask of charm slips away. “Fucking bitch,” he mutters under his breath. “She learned soon enough though. I taught her.”
“What are you talking about?”
He hesitates, his expression shifting from anger to something more guarded. “Nothing.”
I take a step closer, my mind racing. “Are you talking about Jacinta Rosenthal?”
His jaw tightens. “She deserved what happened.”
Jacinta Rosenthal. I remember her well—18 months ago, she was found dead. The story everyone heard was that she had taken her own life, but there were whispers, rumours about how she really died.
And now, standing in front of me, is Heath, all but admitting his involvement. Did he have something to do with her death?
Is he telling me he did it?
My pulse quickens, fear and nausea rising in my throat. “What do you mean she deserved it?”
He looks even more cagey now, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape. “She thought she could walk away from me,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Just like you.”
I feel my blood run cold. Is he threatening me? Does he mean to do the same to me? The thought is paralysing, but I can’t let him see my fear. I swallow hard, forcing my voice to stay calm. “Did you hurt her, Heath? Did you?—”
“Shut up!” he barks, stepping toward me with a dangerous intensity. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But I do know. The truth is settling in, heavy and horrifying. He’s not just threatening me—he’s done this before. He’s capable of far worse than I ever imagined.
Before I can find any words, Ginny’s voice rings out from behind us, cutting through the tension. “Saffy, we need you in the kitchen. The custard looks like it’s about to burn.”
Relief floods through me. “Yes, and I should probably get back to the kitchen,” I say quickly, latching onto the excuse Ginny so perfectly provided. “Can’t let the custard burn.”
Heath grabs my arm again, his grip less forceful this time but still enough to make my skin crawl. “I’ll come help.”
Ginny, ever the quick thinker, steps in smoothly. “Is that really necessary? Too many cooks and all that,” she says with a light laugh. “Why don’t you come and meet everyone while Saffy handles things in the kitchen?”
She manages to navigate Heath toward the bar with a smile, giving me the chance to slip away. My legs feel like jelly as I walk back toward the kitchen, Aydin catching up to me as I step inside. His face is serious, his eyes scanning me as if assessing the situation. “What the hell just happened out there?” he asks in a low voice. “You need to tell me exactly what’s going on.”
I steal a glance back just before the door swings shut. Heath is standing with my parents, casually chatting, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. But I know better. This is far from over.