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‘Don’t shout at me.’
‘I’m—‘ I loose a long breath. ‘I’m not—‘
‘Stop shouting at me.’
‘I’m not fucking shouting at you!’ I twist to face him as I say it.
He stares at me, his mouth a flat line. ‘I can’t talk to you when you’re being like this.’ He moves to clamber out of bed, but I grasp his arm.
‘Being like what? Please don’t leave—I’m sorry—‘ My words cut off in a gasp as he seizes my hand and yanks it from his arm, but he doesn’t let go. He squeezes it, and I try to twist away as my fingers crush together—
He throws my hand at me as he releases it, but it’s that calm, still look in his eye that makes my heart race.
If he leaves, he might not come back. What if he goes out drinking and drives way over the limit? What if he has a crash, and the last thing I said to him wasI’m sorry? For that thought alone I’d apologise—for shouting when I hadn’t.
He climbs out of bed, shucks on his jeans, and heads for the door, but I stream after him, well aware that I’m naked. I grab his arm with both hands and dig my heels into the carpet.
‘Please—I’m sorry—‘ The words dry my mouth. Lucy’s voice echoes through me:They isolate you until they’re the only ones you can turn to for comfort for the bruises they made.
Archer pries my fingers from his arm. ‘Get away from me, Frankie.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I don’t know. For a drive.’
‘How long will you be?’
‘Not sure if I’m coming back.’
I sob, even though, deep down, buried in whatever shred of dignity I have left, he will. ‘What have I done wrong?’
The door slams in his wake, but a wild surge of anger rises.
‘That’s it!’ I shout, not caring if his mum hears, if Demi hears. ‘Go run on back to your druggie mates! Don’t wait up for me, because I’m goingout!’
I hear his boots before the door opens, but I’m already scrambling. My legs fetch up against the bed, and I fall back on it, and I try to shimmy back further, but then Archer is there, face like thunder.
I don’t know why I cry harder. Some part of me hopes that he’ll see my tears and go easy on me, so I contort my face harder, push the tears out harder.
His fingers wrap my ankle and he yanks me off the bed, but I twist and my fingers grapple at the duvet, because I still don’t want to be naked. I just want to cover up my body.
I fall to the carpet in a heap of duvet and pillows, but Archer’s hand clamps my throat, pinning me against the bedframe, and he sneers in my face, ‘Don’t youeverfucking speak to me like that! I was there for you last night when you had no one—no one.’ He shakes me a little, choking me, but I can’t look from those bulging eyes. ‘You should befucking gratefulI came at all, but you ignored me all day, making me worry about you, if you were okay. Do you take me for a mug?Do you?’
I try to shake my head, but I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t think. I claw at his hand, but his fingers tighten.
His mouth twists into a cruel snarl, a satisfied gleam flashing in his eye, and for a moment I think he’s going tokill me. His whole body trembles, and just when blackness clouds my vision, he lets go.
I’m gasping and drowning and my breath saws in and out of my chest and dark spots cloud my eyes. I don’t see him leave, but I distantly hear the door close.
I am here. I am alive. I am breathing.
???
I don’t know how long I stay there like that, curled on the floor with my head between my knees, eyes pressed shut, but when I dare a glance around the room, the sun has sunk, casting the sky into hues of pink and orange.
It’s so…quiet. A calm settles over me, and I feel myself sinking slowly into the floor, every nerve ending dousing like a flame gone out—
Zzzzzzz! Zzzzzzz!
