You’ll Never Have Me (Never 3)
“Thanks,” he grumbles as he throws it back before playing with the toast.
“What happened to you last night?” I’m making myself a cuppa, I wonder if he’ll tell me.
“You told me to fuck off so that’s what I did,” I risk a glance at him and he reminds me of a tightly wound spring, just waiting to snap. His brows are raised high and his jaw is clenched. Yep, he’s going to snap at some point.
He inhales roughly before slamming his fist down on the table, making the plate rattle and the water slosh over the edge of the glass. What else can I do but fold my arms across my chest and stare at him.
“I went down the road you made sure to avoid when we got here, I half expected to see the tyre marks on the ground but they were gone,” he laughs mirthlessly but I can see the way his eyes shimmer. “It was too much so I went to a pub and kept on drinking, until I could forget why I was so angry. And then I wake up with you in my arms, how fucking ironic,” he picks up the plate and throws it across the room and all I can think is how I’m happy it all shattered in the same area. How else should I feel? He didn’t want me to leave him last night and today I make him throw things. All I need is for a tornado to hit and rip the house away and everything would be perfect.
“Are you going to tell me what I said last night or not?” He asks, his tone not easing at all.
“You said it’s all pretend, that’s it. Are you happy now?” I ask as I pick up his glass and at least mine shatters in the sink.
TEN
THERE ARE people in this world who do the same thing repeatedly and expect a different result, it’s the definition of insanity after all. Now I’m not insane and I will keep telling myself this as I log into my emails and check to see if I have heard back from Roxie. No one has found us yet, and I need to know if we’re safe, maybe it had been very bad luck on our part that they kept finding us or maybe it was the SIM card and IP address.
Baby girl
GET MOVING
That’s all it says, and it was dated today. Fuck she knows something and she wouldn’t lead me wrong.
“Harrison, we have to go,” my voice is so high pitched it could be considered shrill, but fear is taking over.
“What, why?” He asks more surprised than anything else until he sees the screen.
“You can yell at me later, right now we have to go,” I grab hold of his arm and the duffel bag I never unpacked. He grabs his and we’re out of here, it may be paranoia making me choose the back door but I don’t care.
I take in the garden one last time, the only thing I liked about the house was this: it looks different now.
The strong oak tree that shaded me from the scorching heat and gave me a place to read in peace now looks gnarly and withered. It used to be formidable but it’s different now. It’s like the sky, it’s greying over, and the clouds look as though they’ll never break and let the light back in.
I try to shake it off as we go through the gate and take the back alleyways until we make it to the car, changing the licence plates costs us five minutes but it won’t make a lot of difference they’ll either find us or they won’t. Harrison isn’t keen on my detour but I need Tommy to fall and this is the only way I know how to do it. It’s not like they’ll cut his life short, right?
“What is going on Henleigh?” Harrison’s voice is tight as he glances over at me.
I keep my eyes on the road, it’s a great excuse not to look his way even though my periphery is betraying me.
“Seriously, what was that all about?” He leans forward so I can’t avoid his face, my eyes glimpse his way for a second and they catch on his.
“Fuck it you’re already angry with me anyway,” I say with a self deprecating laugh and a breath releases from between my parted lips. “Tommy Beckly, the one who put me behind the wheel that night and told me I better keep on driving,” my eyes flashing like lightning during a thunderstorm. “Not an excuse, but I’m owning what I did. He never will, so he can own something else.” My tone is hard and unyielding, no matter what happens I can’t change what I did and for the first time I’ve done something that I will not regret.
No matter how bad it may turn out.
WE DRIVE until our town in Norwich is nothing but a blip in our mirrors: drive until we hit a place called Kings Lynn, never been here before and we’re not exactly here for a tour either.
“Check your emails,” he says it so forcefully that I have to pull over, just so I can look at him.
“What are you talking about? That was sent before I opened it. They couldn’t have tracked me that easily or quickly,” I say, is there doubt in my voice, I can’t be sure.
“She knew something was coming, we need to know what and how. Face to face would be better but if someone is tracking you through this, then after today we have to shut it down,” I can’t argue with him, I know he’s right but what if there’s another way. What if I could get help?
We pull into a car park and pay for a ticket that will cover us for up to four hours, that should be enough time. We don’t know the area at all, but H is smarter than me and hasn’t messaged anyone since changing his number. Therefore, it is awarding us with a level of safety, we just don’t know how high that level is or how long it will remain for.
We sit down in one of the coffee shops, this town is a coffee lovers wet dream. We grab a table and sign into the free WiFi on one of the shop’s computers, is this wrong?
“I’ll get ya a drink, you log in,” he says, did he join the military or something, why is he being so damn bossy?