“Come here.” I fist his jumper and pull him towards me until his lips are on mine. I can taste the liquorice he devoured earlier, and something a little more familiar. We’re lost in the kiss when a rancid smell floats by on the breeze, and I jerk away from him. “Christ, what is that?” I thrust my arm over my mouth and nose, resisting the urge to gag. Bailey sniffs and screws his nose up.
We follow the smell further into the clearing—it’s sickly sweet and a little like rotten eggs. A shed comes into view. It looks like it could have been the groundskeeper’s once, but now the wood is splintered, roof tiles are strewn across the ground, and the door is barely hanging on by the hinges. I go to take a step closer, but Bailey grabs my arm tightly.
“I don’t like it,” he says, pulling at me.
I point to the shed. “The smell is definitely coming from there.”
He shakes his head, eyes wide and pleading. “I want to go.Please,” he begs.
Morbid curiosity draws me away from Bailey. “You stay here if you don’t want to look, I wanna see what’s in there.”
“No!” he shouts, digging his nails into my flesh.
“Fuck, Bay, that hurts.” I try to prise his hand off me but he holds fast, pulling my arm back. “Fine,” I growl, following him back through the trees. He doesn’t stop walking until we get to the old oak tree by the stream. When he finally releases my arm, I look down to see little crescent-shaped indents marking my bicep.
“I-I’m sorry.” He steps back from me and whispers, “I didn’t like the smell.”
I’ve never seen that kind of reaction from him before—terrified and desperate, clawing at me like a wild thing. His face has paled, and he takes a step away from me, looking over his shoulder as though he might run at any moment. I close the distance and grab his hand. “It’s fine, Bay. I should have listened when you said you didn’t like it.”
He sniffles, looking at my arm. “I hurt you.”
“It was an accident. I’m fine.”
He shakes his head, voice breaking as he says, “It’s bleeding.”
I squeeze his hand and pull him towards me. “You were scared, it was an accident.”
“I’m not safe.” He pulls his hand, trying to get free of me.
What the hell is going on?I’m not sure if this is about the smell or if something else is upsetting him, but all I want is to calm him down. “You are safe, Bay. You’re always safe with me. You know that.”
“No. You’re not safe withme,” he cries out as he struggles against my hold, slipping his hand out of mine.
Then he runs.
BAILEY - EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
I run as fastas I can away from Teddy and the rancid smell of decay, navigating the trees without having to think. I’ve walked these trails so many times I could do it blindfolded. The air burns my lungs as I get far away from the clearing, but I’m convinced I can still smell rotting carcasses. The scent clings to the back of my throat, making me feel sick.
As soon as the smell hit me, I knew exactly what it was. It’s something I’ve become accustomed to over the years. Since I was ten, I’ve had blackouts. Periods of time I can’t remember, because, for some reason, my brain has decided I don’t need to. I’d fall asleep, and when I woke, my hands would be stained with blood. I’d find dead mice hidden in drawers, in the wardrobe, under the bed. Shane would help me get rid of them, but sometimes we’d miss one, and after a while, that sickly sweet smell of rot would fill the air to the point of choking.
That’swhat I can smell, and the thought of what could be in that shed makes my blood run cold.
Shane said this would happen. Any chance he’s had to corner me at school over the past six months, he’s asked how I’ve been doing. How I’ve been coping without him keeping me in check. Asking when I’ll be coming home, telling me if I don’t then there’ll be no one to fix me when I break. He was right. I can feel myself breaking, and I’m all alone. There’s no way I can tell Teddy what I’ve done.
I need Shane.
A solid weight crashes into my back and I hit the ground hard. Twigs and stones scrape along my arm. I’m rolled onto my back, and Teddy pins me in place. He says something, but I can’t hear over the thumping of my heart. I struggle, trying to get out his hold, gasping for air.
“Bay, you need to calm down!” His voice floats towards me as though I’m underwater. “Why’d you run from me?”
I let out a guttural yell. Everything I’ve been holding in for years suddenly bursting free. Teddy releases my arms and cups my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. “You’re safe, I’m right here. I’ll always be here.”
He presses his forehead against mine and we stay like that until I go numb, mind blank. My breathing slows and the tears dry up. Teddy gets off me and sits on the ground, pulling my head into his lap as he strokes my hair.
I stare up at the canopy of trees, counting the blackbirds hidden between the branches. So many things are running through my head—what I could tell him, what Ishouldtell him. Taking a deep breath, I mutter, “I need to leave.”
Teddy shifts under me, hand pausing in my hair. “Why do you need to leave?”
