Chapter Nine
LEONI
Courtney is already waiting for me in the bar just around the corner from my apartment. She stands the second she sees me, holding out her arms for a much-needed hug. I fall against her and break.
“Oh Lee,” she whispers, rubbing her hand up and down my back. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been around,” she continues as we pull apart to sit. I swipe at my eyes, forcing a smile.
“You look so tanned,” I sniffle. “Beautiful.”
“Well, work was a bitch, but I can’t complain when I was overlooking the beach for most of the trip.” Then she tips her head slightly, the way friends do when they’re worried but don’t have the right words.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, another tear slipping down my cheek. I laugh, wiping it away. “It’s been a rough few weeks.”
“How’s your mum and Jord?”
I scoff, “Mum is a mess and Jordan… he’s angry. Bitter. Looking for someone to blame.”
“But they arrested the guy, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, and it should feel like a victory, but it doesn’t. Maybe when they charge him…” I shrug, trailing off. “It can’t be over drugs, Court. My big brother couldn’t have died over fucking drugs.”
She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “He was always trying to be bigger,” she mutters. “It was so frustrating because he was a good man with a good heart. He just wanted the best for you all.”
“He was trying to replace dad, be the man of the house. But we didn’t need that. We just needed him.”
“Have you spoken to him… your dad?”
I nod. “He’s sending me a visiting pass. The prison told him the news, but he was in seg when it happened, so he found out a few days later.”
“Seg . . . again? Jesus, how long’s he been inside? And he’s been in seg more times than out.”
I nod in agreement. “He’s got ten years to kill; he was never going to do it quietly.”
“Any luck finding a job?” she asks.
I take a sip of the wine she got me, stalling whilst I scrape together my answer. The pause is too suspicious, and her eyes narrow in on me. “What?” I ask innocently.
“That look,” she says, frowning. Her eyes scan my clothes, and she smirks. “You didn’t leave.”
“The morning you left for work,” I remind her, “The guy at the door, he was Warren’s heavy.”
She laughs, “Heavy? What is he, the mob boss?”
I don’t respond; instead, I take another drink and divert my eyes briefly. “Well, anyway, turns out I signed a contract and I have to give proper notice.”
She scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “No one takes any notice of those things.”
“That’s what I said, but he was insistent that his father would pursue me if I walked. So, I’m serving my notice. Well almost. I haven’t actually put it in writing yet.”
“What else?” she asks, her eyes still trained on me, full of suspicion.
I swallow the lump threatening to choke me. “He’s still a massive wanker,” I say, shrugging, whilst picking at the corner of a beer mat. “A complete arse.”
“Oh my God,” she hisses, leaning closer. “You shagged your boss!”
I gasp, glancing around like she’s just screamed it across the bar. “Keep it down.”
“But you hate him. He’s a prick.”
I nod. “I know, that’s what I just said.
But I was upset and…” I cover my face with my hands and groan into them.
“Shit, Court. I was upset. He was mad. He stormed away and then came back and he, well he ordered me into his office, and he’s my boss so I didn’t argue.
” I groan again, more dramatically this time.
“We kissed and it was hot and rushed and…” I blow out a breath.
“I just wanted to feel something other than this crushing pain in my heart.”
She’s staring at me with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. “Holy shit. He totally took advantage of you.”
I’m already shaking my head before her words are fully out.
“No—No, it wasn’t like that. I—we—” and then I burst into tears.
She rushes to my side of the table, pulling me into her arms. The sound that leaves me is ugly and loud, and completely out of my control.
I grip fistfuls of her coat and bury my face into her shoulder like I’m drowning and she’s the last thing above water.
“He—” I choke. My voice barely works. “Court, I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t—I don’t know—”
She rubs slow circles between my shoulder blades. “Okay. Okay. Breathe. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
I try. I really try. But everything hits at once. “It’s like everything is falling apart,” I whisper, my body shaking. “And I can’t stop it. And I don’t know who to trust and I—” My voice cracks. “I can’t lose anyone else. I feel so alone.”
Courtney holds my face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away tears even as more fall.
“Listen, you have me.” Her voice is steady. Strong. Unshakable. “And your mum. And Jordan. And you have yourself, babe. I know you don’t feel it right now, but you are stronger than every bad thing that has ever happened to you. I’ve seen it. I’ve always seen it.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and force out a nod. “You’re right.”
“And I know it doesn’t feel like it, but he has taken advantage of you. You’re not in the right headspace to make decisions like that. And he’s your boss, Lee. What the fuck was he thinking?”
“We weren’t,” I whisper. “It’s been bubbling away,” I admit. “I wanted it too. But then…” I take a shaky breath. “Then he turned back into that heartless bastard.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile, rubbing my arms. “What a twat.”
A sobbing laugh escapes me. “Massive twat.”
“We all make mistakes,” she says on a sigh. “And you’ve been to hell and back, fucking your boss is just a minor thing. You’ll move past it. Hand your written notice in. Get the hell out of there.”
The house is dark by the time I get home, except for the living room lamp, one of those warm yellow ones that makes everything look softer than it feels.
Mum is sitting in her armchair. Not curled up, not half-asleep, not sedated by the medication that’s been pulling her under every night since Isaac died. And it’s a relief to see.
I smile, but she doesn’t return it; instead, glaring, her eyes are darker than usual, and it throws me for a second. I approach warily, noticing she’s clutching something in her hand tightly.
A white envelope. I peer closer, recognising the shaky handwriting on the front, and my stomach drops. Shit.
“Mum,” I whisper. “You’re meant to be resting.”
“You need to open it.” Her voice is steady, but there’s something cracked beneath it.
I shrug off my coat, my fingers numb. “I’ll open it later, it’s just—”
“No.” Her voice breaks. “Now, Leoni. Open it now.”
I sit down slowly, my whole body cold. She holds the envelope out, but she doesn’t let go right away, as if she’s afraid of what’s inside even as she forces it into my hands.
I slide my finger under the seal. The paper inside is stiff and official.Visiting Order: HMP Penton Vale. Permission granted for: Leoni Dove to visit: Michael Rowe.
“He just wants to see me,” I murmur. “I reached out to tell him about Isaac—”
Mum stands abruptly and grips the edge of the table. “He doesn’t deserve to know.”
I swallow hard. “He’s still our—”
“Don’t.” Her voice cracks and rebuilds into something sharp. “Don’t call him that. Not in this house.”
My throat burns. “Mum—”
“You were eleven.” Her voice shakes. “You were eleven, Leoni, and you were the one who dialled for the ambulance. Your hands were covered in my blood.”
I close my eyes. The memory hits like a fist. Her on the kitchen floor.
Me kneeling beside her.Isaac screaming at him to stop.Sirens.It was the first time I’d witnessed my father’s violence.
It’d been happening for years, since I was small, but I’d only ever heard her muffled screams as I covered my ears whilst hidden upstairs under my blankets.
But that particular night, I’d been sick, and I’d fallen asleep on the couch.
“I remember,” I whisper.
“Then remember the rest,” she snaps back.
“Remember how he smiled when they put him in cuffs. Remember how he came right back here when they released him, smug as anything. Remember how we had to run, Lee. How we packed up our shit to live in a fucking bedsit.” My stomach twists.
“And the endless visits from social services because he kept calling them saying I was neglecting you. Do you remember that?” I nod.
“Isaac hated him because he saw everything.” Her voice breaks on his name.
“He never forgave me for letting him come back home the first time. I thought… I thought I could fix it. I thought love meant staying.” She wipes her face angrily, as if tears are a weakness.
“And now Isaac is gone, and that man is still breathing. And you want to go see him?”
I grip the paper so tight it wrinkles.
“I don’t want to see him,” I whisper. “But I can’t pretend he wasn’t Isaac’s father. He deserves to know his son is dead.”
Mum steps forward. Her voice softens. “He doesn’t get to grieve for him. He lost that right the moment he raised a hand to this family.”
“He never…” I hesitate because I know the words will hurt her. “He didn’t hit us, Mum.”
She steps back like I’ve punched her, her expression unreadable. “He almost killed me seven years ago, Leoni. He’s in prison because he hurt me so badly, I was in intensive care.”
“I know,” I snap. “I know what he did, Mum. But I have to see him. I have to explain what happened to Isaac.”
“Then leave.” We both turn at the sound of Jordan’s voice as he descends the stairs, his eyes fixed on me. “That man is nothing to this family. But if you want to see him so badly, leave.”
“Jord,” I whisper.