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Big guy if you’re up there, please forgive me.

We get into the car and pull out onto the road, I watch in the rear view mirror as a lady comes running out of the shop and shouts at us. I don’t need to be able to hear the words to know she’s asking us to stop, to come back; we can’t.

My head whips around in shock as a warmth permeates through my hand and I look down on my lap to see my leggings scrunched in one fist whilst my other, is in Harrison’s. I look up at him in a daze and he smiles gently, a storm is battling within his gaze. A blizzard of emotions, swirling too fast to put my finger on or to even attempt to name. What is going on in that head of yours Harrison? Will you ever tell me? I hope so.

WE DRIVE THROUGH THE NIGHT, taking back roads and motorways, anything we can to lose any motorbike or car that stays behind us for longer than we like. By the time we make it down to Skegness, yay there’s a beach, we have driven so far out of our way that we doubt anyone could have kept up. We abandon the car on the outskirts, and call a taxi making sure we’re far enough away from the car that it won’t be assumed that it belongs to us.

We get taken to a quiet-ish campsite, but busy isn’t bad seeing as we’ll be less conspicuous this way. Harrison goes to pitch the tent while I walk a safe distance to ring Ivy, I hope she has something for me.

“Hello,” she says cheerfully, and it makes me smile, I think I can be friends with her again. If I make it through this.

“Hey Ivy,” I say softly but I don’t miss the sharp inhale at the sound of my voice.

“Hi, sorry I’m not looking for a new provider right now. I’m afraid I’m still within my contract,” her voice is sugary sweet and dripping fallacies, shit is she in trouble?

“Ivy, are you alone?” I ask forcefully while my eyes dart around to make sure no one is listening in.

“No, sorry my mind cannot be changed. I have to go, your call has helped me to realise I need a new ringtone. Have a great day ma’am, I’m about to find me something slow, acoustic and maybe a hint of guitar. Have a great day,” she says with a melodious voice and disconnects the call.

She has answered my question, I know where Roxie has gone, it has to be fate that she has chosen that place, surely. The trees surrounding our campsite feel foreboding, there isn’t any light cutting through the thick foliage, but instead of feeling safe and protected, I feel imprisoned. There aren’t any walls out here in the open so why does it feel as though they are closing in and I’m one step away from being crushed under the impact.

Is the ground shaking, why is everything spinning? I stumble back towards our spot and Harrison looks up at me with confusion clouding his eyes. I’m trembling, what if something happens to Ivy? What the fuck can I do?

“Henleigh,” he says hesitantly, and I do not know why him saying my name tears through me like a wrecking ball, I fall down to my arse and stare at the ground.

I run my fingers through the blades of grass, teasing my skin. I need to feel something natural, no more fabrication, no more fear and no more secrets and lies.

I look up at him, putting my sunglasses on to shield me from the orb burning bright in the sky, as he crouches before me and waits for me to tell him what is happening. Telling him about Ivy isn’t easy, I don’t want to worry him unnecessarily, but he needs to be aware of the risks.

“If she was happy until she heard your voice, then I would say she doesn’t feel threatened. Whoever is there won’t hurt her, as long as she doesn’t hear from us. This is all a guess, but I think as long as she can’t tell them where we are, they will leave her be. Whoever they are,” he sounds calm but his white knuckles, popping veins and cold eyes tell a different story.

“I know where Roxie will be, but I’m not ready to go there just yet. This world is full of irony isn’t it?” I say as I push my fingers into the dirt and wonder why my voice sounds so...distant. Too much pain and history and nowhere near enough time to recover from it, before this shit show piles more and more on top of us.

‘What’s going on? Where do we need to go?” He asks, but he already knows, he just wants me to say it, to confirm it.

“Back to where it all began, we’ll find her in London.”

ELEVEN

FOURTEEN DAYS since my home was set aflame, no one has found us here yet and that’s promising. We just can’t stay here indefinitely; we have to go to London and find Roxie. This is the place I’ve been fighting to return to, but it feels wrong now. I’m still no closer to discovering who my brother really was but what I do know is painting a picture I can’t unsee. The world feels like a tumultuous place with thunderclouds instead of a pretty blue sky and an inferno of fire preparing to burn us to the ground instead of the pale moon that guides many weary travellers into the light.

I no longer have a moon or the stars to guide me, all I can see are the blinding headlights, threatening to scorch my retinas so I never see clearly again.

“Henleigh, you ready to go?” H asks, as he packs up the tent and waits for our taxi to take us to the bus station.

We’re going to London and it feels as though I’m preparing to say goodbye to this world, if that’s the case then maybe someone out there will be kind enough to instil some colour back into my life. I’d rather die in a sea of multicolour splendor, than the colourless and drab world I see now. It feels like an anchor, dragging me further and further into the inky depths of the ocean, maybe just this once someone can break the chain and let me soar free. Just once before everything ends.

“I’m ready,” I reply as I push my shoulders back and keep my head held high. I collect the bits the stubborn oaf couldn’t force into his oversized bag, along with my duffel and we’re off.

Heading for the high end of London, knowing that I don’t belong there, I never did. It doesn’t matter how much money my father earns now, we’ll always belong in the bad part of town. It makes me think of this one piece of paper we found within Elliott’s folder, but I can’t go there not now, not yet. Another fable proved wrong and a liar brought into the light. My father didn’t build us up from nothing and he certainly didn’t earn the luxury we apparently live now, not in the beginning anyway.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” H says as he interlocks his fingers through mine and squeezes my hand. I look down at our combined hands and I feel nothing but confusion and comfort. Why can’t things be straightforward, I never know how to be with H anymore? Sure, I see him as a friend, but he flips quicker than a light switch. From nice to beast in a single second, I’m not even sure which version I prefer.

The taxi takes us to the bus station so we can claim our seats on the coach, it’s cheaper than a train. Even if it does take longer, leaves you feeling like sardines being contained for all your worth in a tin one size too small and usually hotter than the Egyptian desert with an air conditioner that never quite packs the necessary punch. Yes, I’m feeling beyond cranky today, I wonder if it shows.

ASIDE FROM THE odd kid whining that they’re bored, it’s fairly library esque on the coach today. Harrison has his head leaning back on the seat with his eyes shut, I’m not sure if he’s asleep or simply shutting out the world but I won’t bother him. I wonder what it is about him though that leaves me tied in knots. He always has from that moment he ordered me out of his seat, to having his hand around my throat. There’s something unsettling and uncontained about him, like a tempest set on destroying the next island it comes upon. He calls to me and I hate it.

I hate that he makes my blood boil into a barely controlled rage, h

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