Текст книги "This Man Confessed"

Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 34 страниц)

‘John, I’m sorry, but I’m driving myself today.’ I insist in the firmest tone I can find. It’s hard. I just want to cry some more. He’s so mad with me, but he still sent John to take me to work. As usual, he just can’t help it. I stop and swing around to face the big friendly giant. He’s standing at the hood of his Range Rover, holding his big arms out to me pleadingly. ‘Is he okay?’ I ask.

‘No, he’s gone mother fucking crazy, girl. What’s going on?’

‘Nothing,’ I say quietly, feeling so thankful that John is unaware to why Jesse has lost the plot. He’s probably too ashamed of me to admit it to anyone, and he has every right to be.

‘Nothing?’ He laughs, but then his frightening face turns deadly serious. ‘It’s nothing to do with that Danish mother fucker?’

‘No,’ I shake my head, thinking Mikael might be something else for Jesse to fly off the handle about.

‘Are you okay?’ His wraparounds are still firmly in place, but I know he’s looking at my stomach. He thinks something has happened to the baby.

I nod, my hand naturally sliding across my cornflower blue shift dress and onto my navel. ‘Fine, John.’

‘Ava, girl, let me take you to work so I can at least go back to The Manor and tell him I got you there safely.’ He gestures towards his shining heap of black metal.

It’s hard for me to refuse John. He’s thinking about Jesse, and I know that he cares about me. Under any other circumstances, I would, but I have an ex to deal with, and I can’t wait to rip him to shreds. ‘I’m sorry, John.’ I jump in my car and dial Casey to open the gates. No code, no gate device. Anyone would think that he was trying to keep me prisoner. I leave a clearly exasperated John in the Car park of Lusso and drive myself to work.

* * *

The look I flash all of my work colleagues the second I walk into the office makes them cautiously put their heads back down to work. Mindless chit-chat and feigning happiness is not something I can be bothered to do today. I need to focus on getting through the day as quickly and as quietly as possible. Interacting with anyone is a risk I can’t take. I might explode, and then all of my fury will be wasted.

I’m left to work in peace, my only distraction being my racing imagination, which is flicking from what Jesse will be doing now, to what I’m going to do to Matt. I’m surviving fine, until Patrick perches on the edge of my new desk. I see him before I hear him, which has absolutely never happened. The creak that I usually get in warning is absent, and it throws me a little. I grew rather fond of the familiar sound of my boss perching on my desk, even if it did make me hold my breath and pray for reinforced wood.

‘Flower, update me. We’ve not spoken for a few days. My fault, I know.’

I don’t need this. My brain is awash with everything, except work, and I’m dreading the Mikael question. I’m living on borrowed time here, I realise that, but I can’t broach this now. ‘There’s not a lot to report, really.’ I continue composing the email that I’ve been working on for the last hour. I’m two lines in, and it’s only a simple sample request to a manufacturer.

‘Oh, everything’s in order, then?’

‘Yes, everything.’ I sound short and terse, but I’m trying my best not to be.

‘Are you okay, flower?’ My boss’s concern is clear, when he should actually be telling me to buck up and answer him properly.

I stop typing and turn to face my cuddly bear of an employer. ‘I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine, but I’ve got a heap of things I want to get done before the day’s out.’ I mentally applaud myself for blagging my way through that whole little speech. I did sound fine and like I was keen to get on, something Patrick will never argue with.

‘Excellent!’ He laughs. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be in my office.’ He lifts from the desk and for the first time in four years, it doesn’t creak, but I still wince anyway.

‘Ava, I’m sorry to bother you,’ Sal’s apprehensive voice almost makes me feel guilty.

‘What’s up, Sal?’ I look up at our plain-Jane, turned office siren, and force a smile, until I see the plaid skirt. It’s back, and I was so busy throwing cautionary looks at everyone when I arrived this morning, I hadn’t noticed. I also hadn’t noticed the lack of polished nails or scoop neck top. Or the face that looks like it’s just been dealt the most dreadful news. She’s been dumped.

‘Patrick has asked me to run through all of the invoices due for payment. Here’s a list.’ She hands me a printout of clients. ‘All of the highlighted sections are due within a week, and he’d like you all to gently remind your clients so we get the payments on time.’

I frown and cast my eyes over the spread sheet. ‘But they’re not due yet. I can’t remind them when they’ve not even forgotten.’ It’s embarrassing enough chasing overdue invoices.

She shrugs. ‘I’m just the messenger.’

‘He’s never asked us to do this before.’

‘I’m just the messenger!’ she snaps, and I recoil in my chair. Then she bursts into tears. I should be jumping up and soothing her, but I’m just sitting here, watching her wail all over my desk. She’s snorting and sniffling, attracting the attention of everyone, including Patrick, who has ventured from his office to see what the commotion is all about, but he retreats hastily when he spots Sal in tears. Tom and Victoria sit tapping their pens, neither one of them coming to aid me in my distress. And I am distressed. I don’t know what to do with her, but as no one else seems to be willing, it’s down to me to sort her out. I slide the spread sheet into my tray and stand, taking Sal’s elbow and leading her into the toilets, where I stuff her hands full of tissue and wait silently for her to pull herself together.

After a good five minutes, she finally speaks. ‘I hate men.’ Is all she says.

It makes me smile. I think every woman on the planet has said that line at some point in their life. ‘Things not too good between you and…’

‘Don’t say his name!’ she blurts. ‘I never want to hear it again.’

It’s a good job because I can’t remember it. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No.’ she spits, rubbing away at her cheeks. There is no make-up transferring onto the tissue. She has well and truly returned to boring Sal. ‘Never!’ she adds on a filthy look.

I’m relieved. My brain wouldn’t absorb it, even if she did tell me. I’d be listening, but not engaging. ‘Okay,’ I rub her arm in a gesture to suggest that I understand when I’m actually more relieved.

‘He’s here, then he’s not. He calls, then he doesn’t. What does that mean?’ She looks at me expectantly, like I might know the answer.

‘You mean he’s messing you around?’ I’m engaging.

‘I’m on call when he wants, so yes. I sit around waiting for him to ring me, and when he does want to see me, it’s lovely, but all he wants to talk about is me. My friends. My job.’ She sniffles a bit more. ‘When will he want to have sex?’

I cough on a laugh. ‘You’re worried because he hasn’t tried to get you in bed?’ That’s a rarity. She should be pleased.

‘Yes!’ She collapses against the wall. ‘I don’t know how much more we can talk.’

‘It’s nice that he wants to get to know you, Sal. Too many men are after one thing.’ Is she sexually frustrated? Or is she sexually clueless? Has she ever even had sex? I can’t imagine it, and if I go by the deepening red of her cheeks, then I think I might have my answer. Sal’s a virgin? Fucking hell! How old is she, anyway?

I’m suddenly more than ready to engage, but Victoria’s head pops around the door, halting my intended interrogation tactics. ‘Ava, your phone is ringing off the hook.’ She can’t resist a quick inspection of herself in the mirror before she leaves.

‘Sal, I’d better get that.’ It might be Jesse, and he’ll be beside himself. ‘Will you be okay?’

She nods, sniffles and blows her nose before running her teary eyes all over me. ‘Are you feeling better?’ she asks.

‘Yes,’ I frown, forgetting my recent absences from work. I’m not ready to share my news yet.

‘You don’t look it. What’s wrong, anyway?’

I search my brain for a feasible reason for my constant dashing to the toilet and bad moods. ‘Tummy bug.’ is the best that I come up with.

‘And married life? Good? Honeymoon?’

I stand for a few silent moments, wondering how this turned around on me. ‘All great.’ I lie. ‘Maybe we’ll catch a holiday soon. Jesse’s busy.’ I lie again, but Sal is one of the few people in my life who hasn’t worked out my bad habit, so I’m confident that I’ve not been rumbled. I leave her before she can pry any further and rush back to my desk, hoping to find a mass of missed calls from Jesse. I’m sorely disappointed. It’s Ruth Quinn. I haven’t spoken to her since I abandoned our meeting, and I’m not sure I want to, but it starts wailing again in my hand. I don’t need to call her back. She’s going to call me until I answer, and I can’t avoid her forever.

‘Hello, Ruth.’ I sound normal enough.

‘Ava, how are you?’ She sounds normal, too.

‘Good, thank you.’

‘I was waiting for you to call. Did you forget about me?’ She laughs.

Actually, I did. Her lesbian crush has made way for other more important things. ‘Not at all, Ruth. I was going to call you later.’ I’m lying through the skin of my teeth.

‘Oh, well I beat you to it, then. Can we meet tomorrow?’

I sink into my chair, my mind whizzing through a million excuses to put her off, but I know I have to face this head on. I can be professional. ‘Sure, how about one-ish?’

‘Perfect. I look forward to it. Bye!’ She hangs up, and I hang my head. I bet she is. I’ll be wearing trousers tomorrow, and I won’t be making too much of an effort either.

Tom lowers his fashion specs to the end of his nose. ‘Dumped?’ he asks. I don’t need to push for an elaboration on his one word question.

‘It’s complicated.’ I brush him off and start to mark up some drawings, but something catches my attention outside the office.

My brother.

He’s standing on the pavement looking into the office and after what seems like an age of us staring at each other, he pushes his way through the door. ‘Hi,’ He smiles.

My hand comes up in a little wave gesture. ‘Hi,’ I whisper. We’re in that awkward place again.

‘Lunch?’ he asks hopefully.

I smile and collect my bag, joining him at the front of the office. My simmering anger has cooled, but I’ll re-stoke it later. Right now, I want to fix things with Dan, get things back on track before he goes back to Australia. He’s been a complete arsehole, but I can’t hold grudges, not with my brother. ‘Tom, I’ll be back in an hour.’

‘Hmmm,’ he replies. I look back and see him staring dreamily at Dan. ‘Bye, Ava’s brother.’ he croons, waving a limp wrist and actually fluttering his lashes. I purse my lips and shake my head, especially when Dan’s eyes enlarge in alarm and he starts walking backwards.

‘Urm, yeah,’ He coughs and straightens his shoulders in an obvious attempt to make himself look more manly. ‘See ya,’ His voice has gone deeper, too.

I laugh. ‘Come on,’ I push Dan through the door. ‘You have an admirer.’

‘Great.’ he quips. ‘Not that I’m homophobic or anything. You know, whatever tickles your fancy.’

‘I think Tom wants to tickle your fancy.’

‘Ava!’ He looks at me in horror, but then breaks out in a grin. ‘He’s got taste, obviously.’

‘I don’t want to burst your bubble, but he’s like that with most men. You’re nothing special.’

We start walking side by side down Bruton Street, towards Starbucks. ‘Thanks,’ Dan laughs, nudging my shoulder.

I nudge him right back and smile up at him. We’re going to be okay.

* * *

Dan sets down the coffees and his sandwich, and I immediately tip three sachets of sugar into my cup, momentarily unaware that what I’m doing is completely out of the ordinary, until I look up and see Dan’s brow all knitted as he watches me stir it in. ‘Since when have you taken sugar in your coffee?’

I freeze mid-stir, frantically searching my brain for a viable excuse. We’ve not talked, but things are comfortable. Advising him that I’m pregnant will catapult us straight back to awkwardness, so I’m going to be a total shitbag and wait for him to go back to Australia, then I’ll get our mum to tell him. ‘I’m knackered. I need a sugar hit.’ It’s the best I come up with.

‘You look tired.’ He sits down, eyeing me suspiciously.

‘I am tired.’ I admit. No hair twiddling needed.

‘Why?’

‘Work stress.’ Half true, but now I’m fighting my hands to keep them on the table. ‘So, you’re okay?’

‘Kate told me to take a leap, but I’m sure you know that already.’ He un-wraps his sandwich and takes a bite.

Yes, I do, but there is little point confirming it. ‘You should never have gone there, and you really shouldn’t have gone there on my wedding day.’

‘Yeah, I was out of line. I’m sorry.’ He reaches over and places his hand over mine. ‘We’ve never had cross words.’

‘I know. It was horrible.’

‘It was my fault.’

‘It was,’ I grin, and he dips his finger in the froff of my coffee and flicks it at my nose. ‘Hey!’

‘Congratulations, anyway.’ He smiles.

‘What?’ I blurt.

‘I never congratulated you on your actual wedding day. I was too busy being an arsehole.’

‘Oh, thanks.’ The relief that takes hold makes me sag in my chair, but just as quickly, I’m stiff as a board. Matt knows, and he has been doing a fantastic job of keeping my parents informed and up-to-date on my love life. He’ll be like a pig in shit over this. That cooling fury has just boiled over into the realms of panic. I quickly disregard the possibility that he’s called my mum and dad already because if he had, then Dan would know, and he wouldn’t be sat opposite me happily chomping his way through a tuna melt. This is bad news. I need to get to Matt before he gets to my parents. Or I could just ring my parents and tell them myself. That would be the sensible thing to do, but I want to see them with Jesse. I want to do this bit right, which is absurd, but after how they found out about Jesse and the shock of a rushed wedding, I want to make this part special.

‘You okay?’ Dan’s worried tone pulls me from yet more mental meltdown.

‘Yeah, so when are you going back?’

‘I’ll get on-line when I get back to Harvey’s to see what’s available.’ He dabs his mouth with his napkin and proceeds to launch into a proper apology speech.

I spend the next half an hour listening, nodding, yes-ing and no-ing, but I’m a million miles away from the conversation, my head struggling to decide on what to do for the best. Why hasn’t Matt called them already?

‘You’ll get sacked.’

‘Huh?’ I glance down at my Rolex, noting its two fifteen. I’m already late, but I feel no sense of urgency to hurry back to the office. The only urgency I have is to resolve my little Matt issue once and for all. ‘Yeah, I’d better shoot.’

‘Nice watch.’ He nods at my wrist.

‘Wedding present,’ I stand and brush myself down. ‘Which way are you heading?’

‘Back to Harvey’s.’

‘Okay, will you call me? I mean, you won’t just leave, will you?’

His eyes warm and he stands before pulling me into him and giving me the biggest cuddle. ‘I wouldn’t go anywhere without saying goodbye to my little sister.’ He kisses my head. ‘Let’s not fall out again, okay?’

‘Okay. Keep it in your trousers then, and try to be civil to my husband if you ever have to share company with him again.’

‘I promise.’ He assures me. I’m a little surprised he doesn’t point out that Jesse was discourteous, too, because he really was. ‘Take care.’

‘You, too.’ I leave Dan, but instead of going to the office, I call in sick again and go to get my car. I’m walking on thin ice, but this really cannot wait. Matt won’t be home, but he’ll be at his office, and I really don’t care where I verbally bash him.

Chapter 18

But he’s not at his office, and he hasn’t been for weeks. After driving across the city in mid-afternoon traffic, I pulled up to the glass building which houses the sales centre of the firm that he works for, only to be told by the receptionist that Matt lost his job a few weeks ago. I remember him mentioning it, he’d used it as an excuse for his shitty behaviour, but I never gave it another thought.

Despite his misfortune, though, I don’t feel pity or concern. Nothing is going to dampen down my resentment and contempt. I sit in my car and pull my phone from my bag, full of determination. I’ll track him down.

It rings once. ‘Ava,’

I was expecting a voice laced with smugness and deep satisfaction, so when I hear this one, which is broken and strained, I’m thrown completely. It takes me a few moments to piece a sentence together and when I do, it’s not at all what I had intended to say. ‘Are you okay?’

He laughs, but it’s weak. ‘Why don’t you ask your husband?’

The back of my head hits the headrest of my seat, and I stare up at the ceiling of my car. I should have predicted this. ‘How bad?’

‘Oh, just a couple of broken ribs and a black eye. Nothing major. Your husband knows how to do a job properly, I’ll give him that.’

‘Why did you do it?’

‘Because I want everything he has with you. Or I did. Kate took great pleasure in telling me you were marrying him, and then that letter fell on my doormat. I wondered why you would be seeking an abortion if you were married, so I guessed he didn’t know. I took a chance. Why are you having an abortion?’

‘I’m not.’

‘Then why…’

‘Because I was shocked.’ I shout defensively. I’m not explaining myself to him. Silence falls down the line, and I’m not in the least bit compelled to explain myself further. ‘I think this is where you give up, Matt.’

‘Well I won’t be setting myself up for another beating from your unhinged husband. Not even you are worth the pain I’m in right now.’

I laugh to myself and my stupidity for almost feeling sorry for him.

‘Oh,’ he continues, ‘and don’t worry about Elizabeth and Joseph. I’ve been given a little taste of what will happen if I share your news. Can I suggest that you get your address changed so I don’t receive any of your shit in future?’ He hangs up, and I stare down at my phone in disbelief. I didn’t blast him with half of the words I’ve been mentally preparing throughout the day. I didn’t get to spit my hatred at him, or even slap his face. I’d love to slap his face. I smirk to myself, my smile only broadening when a mental image of Jesse pounding on Matt’s loser arse springs to mind. I’m not a violent person, but if Jesse wants to take his anger out on someone, then Matt would be my person of choice every time. He deserves everything he gets, and there’s no doubt in my mind that I won’t be hearing from him again and neither will my parents. It’s one more thing ticked off my list of issues. Sarah has apologised, for what it’s worth, but she’s gone and that’s all that matters. Kate and Sam are together, and Kate and Dan are not. I’ve made friends with my brother, and Matt has been trampled. That one makes me smile again. But what I really need to be doing is finding my husband and making friends with him. I chuck my phone on the passenger seat and make my way back towards the city.

I feel like I’m on a cleansing mission. Our new life together will be free from troubles very soon, and it’s right now that I decide to tackle the final issue tomorrow. Mikael. I’ve still not heard from him, but there’s nothing he can say, anyway, nothing he can tell me, so I don’t know what the point of our meeting will be. He’s not back from Denmark, or if he is I’ve not heard from him, but I’ll call him. I’ll beat him to the punch. I’m full of determination to eradicate this final issue. I’m making it my mission objective. I’ll do anything.

As I’m driving over London Bridge, I glance up to my rear view mirror and spot a familiar car. Jesse’s car. He’s dipping in and out of the traffic in his usual haphazard style, overtaking and generally causing traffic mayhem in his wake. I spend a few moments flicking my eyes between the road ahead and my rear view mirror, the potential of what I’m about to face slowly settling in the pit of my stomach. He’s been following me, which means he has followed me to Matt’s office, which means he is going to hit the fucking roof. I didn’t see Matt, but the intention was there, and I’m not going to try and convince myself that Jesse wouldn’t know where Matt worked. Of course he knows where Matt worked. I’m fighting the clash of extreme worry and extreme rage. I’m worried for obvious reasons, but the rage is overshadowing that right now. Following me? This shouldn’t be a surprise. I need to stop being so astounded by what lengths this man goes to—the things that he does, the reactions that he has, the extreme reactions he draws from me.

I know it’s him, but that doesn’t stop me taking a right, and then a right, and then a right again, bringing me back to where I started, and as I knew it would be, the DBS is still tailing me a few cars behind. I’m leading him on a merry dance. I feel around on the seat for my phone and stab at the buttons.

‘Yes?’ he spits, short, curt and clipped. Not his usual baby or pleasure filled tone. I’m astounded.

‘Nice drive?’ I ask.

‘What?’

‘Are you having a nice drive?’ I repeat myself, this time the words pushed through clenched teeth.

‘Ava, what the fuck are you talking about? And when I send John to fetch you, get in is fucking car.’

I ignore that last part and glance back up to my rear view mirror, just to check I’m not imagining things. I’m not. ‘I’m talking about you following me.’

‘What?’ he yells impatiently. ‘Ava, I haven’t got time for fucking riddles.’

‘I’m not talking in riddles, Jesse. Why the hell are you following me?’

‘I’m not following you, Ava.’

I glance up again. ‘So I suppose there are hundreds of Aston Martins driving around London, and one just happens to be following me.’

Silence falls down the phone line, then his heavy breathing starts. ‘You’re driving?’

‘Yes!’ I shriek. ‘I’m driving around in bloody circles, and you’re following me. You’d make a shit detective!’

‘My car’s following you?’

‘Yes!’ I actually hit my steering wheel in a temper. Does he think I’m stupid?

‘Ava, baby, I’m not driving my car. I’m at Lusso.’ He doesn’t sound impatient anymore. He sounds concerned, which only concerns me.

I take another look in my mirror and find the DBS is now only one car behind me, drifting in and out of my sight. ‘But it’s your car.’ I say quietly.

‘Fuck!’ he roars, and I instinctively pull the phone away from my ear. ‘John!’

‘Jesse? What’s going on?’ My stomach is suddenly a knot of panic at his reaction.

‘My car’s been stolen.’

‘Stolen? How can you steal an Aston Martin?’ Surely it would be impossible.

‘Where are you?’ he asks.

Frantically looking around, I search for something familiar. ‘I’m on the embankment, driving towards the city.’

‘John! The embankment. City bound. Call her in two.’ I hear car doors closing. ‘Baby, listen to me. Just keep driving, okay?’

‘Okay.’ I agree, my earlier anger giving way to pure fear.

‘I’ve got to put the phone down now.’

‘I don’t want you to.’ I murmur. ‘Stay on the phone, please.’

‘Ava, I’ve got to put the phone down. John’s going to call you as soon as I hang up. Put it on loudspeaker and place it in your lap so you can concentrate. Understand?’

He’s trying to stay calm, but he’s failing to conceal his distress. It’s thick in his husky voice, and I’m frightened by it.

‘Ava, baby. Tell me you understand!’

‘I understand.’ I whisper, and then the distinctive roar of a motorbike pours down the line. One of Jesse’s bikes. The phone goes dead.

My heart has gone berserk and is punching its way through my chest, my hand is visibly shaking on the wheel and my eyes are glazing over with panic fuelled tears. When my phone starts ringing, I fumble with the keypad until I manage to connect the call.

‘John?’

‘Hey, girl. Are you on hands free?’

‘No, wait.’ I quickly place the call on loudspeaker before dropping my phone into my lap and replacing my hand on the wheel, gripping harder to try and stop the shakes. ‘I’m done. I’ve done it.’

‘S’all good, girl.’ He sounds so calm. ‘Just take a quick peek and tell me how far back Jesse’s car is.’

I do as I’m told. ‘It’s only one car behind.’

He hums a little. ‘I want you to drive as slowly as possible, without looking suspicious. Just below the limit, you got it?’

I instantly ease off the accelerator a little. ‘Okay.’

‘Good girl. Now, tell me exactly where you are.’

I glance to my left. ‘I’m approaching Millennium Bridge.’

‘That’s good.’ he muses. ‘Concentrate on the road now.’

‘Okay. Why are you so calm?’ I ask. I’m not complaining because it’s rubbing off on me. An air of serenity is traveling down the line and calming me, which is crazy, considering the source of it—a giant, mean looking, wraparound wearing black man, who oozes terror.

‘One crazy mother fucker is enough, don’t you think?’

I manage a small smile through my growing fear. ‘Yes,’ I agree.

‘Now, tell me how you’ve been today.’ He asks it like we’re having a perfectly normal conversation.

‘Fine. I’ve been fine.’ Of course, I’m not being truthful, but what sort of question is that when I’m being chased down in a car? What next? An axe wielding madman? Jesus, since I’ve met this man I’ve been through the wringer, but this is going into the realms of a Hollywood blockbuster. Who the hell is following me?

‘He’ll be an extraordinary daddy, Ava.’

John’s softly spoken words that seep from the phone and seem to linger in the closed air around me, immediately pull me back. ‘I know he will.’ I can’t see John, but if I could, I know I would see that illusive gold tooth.

‘So you two are going to stop fucking about and sort this shit out?’ He sounds like a father, and my fondness grows for the burly beast of a man.

‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘Oh!’ I’m suddenly thrust forward in my seat and my seatbelt locks, pulling straight across my collarbone and burning the skin beneath my dress.

‘Ava?’ John’s voice is distant and muffled, and I can’t work out why. ‘Ava, girl!’

‘John?’ I feel around on my lap, but there’s nothing. ‘John!’

Bang!

I’m jolted forward again, my arms instinctively locking on the wheel and sending a sharp flash of pain straight up to my shoulders. ‘Shit!’ I look in the rear view mirror and freeze when I see the DBS now directly behind me, but it’s quite a way back. ‘John?’ I yell. ‘John, can you hear me?’ My eyes are moving constantly from the road ahead to the mirror, back and forth, and each time they’re back on the mirror, Jesse’s car is closer. I attempt to step on the accelerator, but all body functions are failing me, except my eyes which are watching in horror as the DBS gains on me.

Bang!

‘No!’ I cry, as I swerve and struggle to regain control on my Mini. I don’t stand a chance. My brain is being inundated by a million different orders, but I can’t gather any cognitive thought to establish my best move. I straighten up my car to be immediately hit again. Now I’m crying. My emotions are taking hold, telling me that I should be crying, that I should be frightened. And I am. I’m terrified.

Crash!

This time I lose complete control. I scream as the wheel starts spinning of its own accord, and I’m suddenly travelling sideways down the carriage way. Then I’m hit again and facing forward once more. I frantically grapple with the steering wheel, but it’s got a mind of its own and in a total panic, I yank at the handbrake. I’m not sure what happens next, but I’m thrown forward and back again, and I’m dizzy, blurred images whirling past the windows. Buildings, people and cars are all spinning around me until eventually a loud crash rings through my ears, my body jolts violently and my eyes close. I don’t know where I am. But I’m still. I’m not moving anymore.

I flex my neck on a groan and open my eyes to look out of the window. The traffic has stopped. All of it. People are getting out of their cars and wandering over to me. I shuffle my legs and move my arms, quickly noting that I have feeling in all of them, before I unclip my belt and let myself out of my car. People are walking towards me, but I’m walking away. I’m walking towards the DBS, which is sitting a few yards away, the engine still purring. I should be running in the other direction, but I’m not. I’m running towards it. The desperate need to know who would do this has suddenly flattened my fear. Date rape, threats, and now this? What planet if this person on? The accumulation of incidents is now hitting me hard.

I’m only a few yards away when the engine starts revving, like some sort of eerie fucked up threat. It doesn’t stop me. What does, though, is the sound of a high powered machine getting louder and louder. I halt and stand rooted to the spot as I watch the DBS screech off, and then John’s Range Rover go sailing past in pursuit. This isn’t happening to me. I want to pinch myself, slap myself across the face, or, at the very least, wake up. I slowly turn when it sounds like one of Jesse’s superbikes is speeding around in my head. He skids to a stop and throws his bike down before sprinting towards me, no leathers, no helmet, just some faded jeans and a plain black t-shirt protecting his body—the clothes that he yanked from the wardrobe before he walked out on me. I can’t move. All I can do is wait where I am for him to reach me, and he soon does, his hands starting to work fast strokes all over my stunned face as I stare blankly into his green eyes, which are drowned in pure terror.

‘Ava? Jesus, baby.’ I’m pulled into his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other wrapped around my waist to hold me tight. I want to hold him back, I need to hold him back, but nothing is happening when I tell it to happen. I hear Jesse’s phone ringing and he releases my head to fish around in his pocket. ‘John?’

Being buried under Jesse’s chin, I can hear the low rumble of John’s pissed off voice, and I distinctly hear him asking why the fuck he has to own such a stupidly fast mother fucking car.

‘Where are you?’ Jesse asks, kissing my head between words.

This time I can’t hear him. All I can hear are sirens—coming from every direction are sirens. I pull out of Jesse’s chest and find a mass of police cars and two ambulances. Just for me? But then I notice a crumple heap of a car, and it’s not mine. Neither is the one wrapped around a lamppost nearby. I search through the chaos of people and abandoned cars and spot my Mini crunched up against some railings that are separating the road from the pavement. I shudder.