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“And you know I’m unhappy with my job. I’ve been wanting to resign for ages.”
“That’s never been the right job for you,” he agrees.
“Becks and I have been fighting. We had a proper argument just this morning. I don’t really want her in my life anymore. I hate my flat. You know that.”
He nods. Even if he’s not buying the whole story, he’s definitely softening. I know he’s desperate to believe it, and if he really is delusional, there is a chance he could.
“This has actually come at a great time for me,” I say. “A new life sounds … amazing.”
“It could be,” he replies. “If you give it a chance.”
“I will give it a chance,” I say. “I’ll need some clothes.”
“I’ve got them in my car,” he says.
I frown at him.
“That’s what I was doing at your flat. Packing some clothes for you.”
So he really does think it’s an option. This is hopeful and terrifying at the same time.
“Great,” I chirp, the sound strained to my ears. “Let’s go!”
“We should say goodbye to Jamie,” says Jeff. “Not sure when we’ll see him again.”
No. I don’t want Jeff near my brother. I swallow my fear. “It’s not necessary. Let’s not interrupt his art. Let’s just go.”
“I insist,” he grits, grabbing my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh. It’s the first time he’s touched me and I flinch. It does not go unnoticed. Jeff hates it when I flinch. It’s one of the things that makes him crazy. Fuck.
He marches me through the kitchen to the studio, where I pretend to be calm despite the strong smell of petrol in the room.
“Hiya, Ivy!” says Jamie, beaming. “Hiya, Jeff!” He has a paintbrush in his hand.
“We’ll be off now,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “We’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” he says, focusing hard on his painting.
“I’ll bring Mom and Dad next time,” I promise cheerfully, despite Jeff’s fingers hurting my arm. “We can have a special lunch. You can show us all your paintings.”
Jamie grins. “A special lunch! Can we have hamburgers? No! Cheeseburgers. No mustard.”
I nod, trying to hide my emotion. “See you soon. I love you.”
“I love you, Ivy!”
It’s a small measure of relief when we turn and exit the sunroom. At least he’s safe for now. It gives me some courage. If I can just keep my head, we’ll get out of this alive. Jeff steers me through the kitchen and back to the sitting room. I think we’ll keep going until we reach the front door, but suddenly there’s an acute pain in my scalp as Jeff pulls me back by my hair and slams me onto the floor. Shock silences me despite the pain.
He climbs on top of me, straddling my waist, his face a mask of fury.
“You conniving little bitch. You think I’m stupid? You’re the one who’s fucking stupid! It’s like you never fucking learn. I’ve tried to teach you, but YOU NEVER FUCKING LEARN YOUR PLACE!”
Before I can say anything, he hits me with his full strength. The pain is incredible. A tooth is loose. My body screams in terror. It knows what happens next. Blinded by the strike, my vision swims, my thoughts tumble.
No, is all I can think. No. No. NO. Not again.
I reach for the pepper spray in my pocket, flip the safety, and spray it into Jeff’s face. He screams and his hands fly to his face, trying to wipe the burning liquid away. It burns me, too, but I can roll away from the worst of it. We’re both coughing. I scramble for his holster, trying to get his gun while he’s flailing around. I finally get a good grip on it despite my hands being slick with perspiration … but when I feel for the gun, it’s not there. The holster is empty.
No!
