A few minutes later, I was wrapped up in my coat, scarf and gloves, and I stepped out of my front door, ready to tell the police what I knew. No sooner had I reached the end of my driveway, I heard a car door slam. Turning, my heart began to pound as Leon approached me.
Has he really taken to sitting outside our house now?
I reminded myself that he was hardly going to do anything to me in the middle of the street in broad daylight, but it didn’t stop me shuddering when he reached my side. Just looking at him filled me with anger. Not content with attempting to drug my sister, his attack on Jesse by telling his “story” to the tabloids was a whole other level of evil. Even seeing the cut on his lip where Jesse had hit him wasn’t enough to lift my spirits. I wanted to pummel him myself.
“Can I give you a lift somewhere?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I answered, sarcastically. “Getting into cars with perverts is something I do all the time.”
He eyed me for a moment, like he was trying to read my mind or something, then his lips twisted into a slightly creepy smile. I didn’t give him the pleasure of watching me squirm for something to say. Instead, I waited for him to tell me why he was parked outside my house.
“Your new found confidence is very sexy, Isabelle. The more I see you, the more I think I’ve been chasing the wrong sister. That footballer must be giving you something you’ve never had. Lucky him.”
Genuinely worried I might swing for him, I turned away and walked on, willing my legs to move faster. I couldn’t stand to hear him talking about Jesse after what he did. The sooner I got to the bus stop, and on the bus, the better.
“So you don’t mind telling the police what you know? Even if it destroys Georgia?”
I stopped in my tracks.
“What makes you think I’m going to the police?”
“Because you always want to do what’s right.”
“You don’t know me, Leon. Stalking Georgia doesn’t give you an insight into how my mind works.”
“Yes it does,” he told me, coming closer until he was right behind me, speaking directly into my ear. “I see the way she reacts to me, and the way you react to me. I’ve heard you saying she should tell someone about me.”
I stepped away from him. “And it hasn’t stopped you.”
“She likes it, Isabelle. Your sister is an attention whore, and as much as she says she hates it, she loves it really. Why else would she have slept with me?”
“How about because she was pissed on cheap cider?”
He laughed out loud. “She wasn’t that drunk.”
“She’d never have let you touch her if she wasn’t.”
He shrugged, as if to say, ‘Think what you like, you weren’t there so you’ll never know the truth.’ I shouldn’t have let even a hint of a doubt enter my head but I couldn’t stop
it.
“What do you want?” I asked, finally giving in.
“I want you to talk to your sister before you run along to the police station and implicate me for something I didn’t do.”
“Are you out of your mind? You already told Georgia you did it, and now you’re saying you didn’t?”
“I’m saying that Georgia told you I said I did it. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”
It had been a long day which had followed a sleepless night, and I didn’t have the patience for playing games. I’d just spoken to Georgia and there didn’t seem to be any doubt that Leon had been the one to spike Jesse’s drink.
“If it wasn’t you, why did you go to the effort of humiliating Jesse further by talking to the newspapers?”
Leon gave me that smile again, the one that made me shudder. “I’m a poor college student, I have to take my opportunities as they come to me.”
“Rubbish! From what I can tell, your parents give you everything you need, and probably a load of stuff you don’t. You sold your story because you’re a nasty, disgusting, evil-”
“Stop,” he said, holding up his hands. “I get the picture. Clearly we’re never going to be friends, but the fact remains, you need to go back into that house and talk to your sister again. If you still believe what she tells you, by all means, do what you have to do.”