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‘Long story, but I was taken by my cousin, Dara. He’s got me chained up. He’s been the one fucking with me, Gregg. I knocked him out but I can’t find his keys and if I’m here with him much longer I’m going to kill the bastard.’
‘Back up. He’s got you what?’
‘I’m chained to a fucking bed in my nan’s old place.’
‘Fuck. Okay, Sit tight. I’m already on the way. Your truck was last spotted on a camera a few miles from there yesterday, so I was heading that way to check it out. Just don’t kill him until I get there. Are you okay?’
‘No. Gregg, he gave me...’ Tate looks over at the syringe lying within reach. ‘I’ve had a fix, Gregg. He gave it to me. And there’s more of it. It’s on the floor. I can reach it so I need you to distract me cause I really fucking want it.’
Gregg stays quiet for a minute then Chloe comes on the phone. ‘Hey.’
He turns on his side to face the window and Dara. Even though he was hoping to keep her away from this, hearing her voice is just what he needs right now. ‘Hey. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—’
‘So I was thinking about what we could do the next nice weekend. I thought we could have another picnic at Grace’s summer house.’
He nods to the empty room. He knows what she’s doing. ‘Yeah. That would be nice.’
‘We could go for an evening picnic instead. Maybe build a campfire and lie back watching the stars. Do you like toasted marshmallows?’
Tate rocks himself on the bed and tries to imagine himself there with Chloe. ‘Yeah. I do.’
‘Okay, so we’ll go all out with the marshmallows. Then we can curl up together under a blanket.’
‘For the love of God do not expand on that,’ Greggs shouts from somewhere in the background. ‘I’m trying not to crash.’
‘I’m not talking to you so shush,’ Chloe says. ‘Anyway, like I was saying, we could finish what we started last time we were there.’
‘Without the fight.’
She laughs and he smiles to himself. ‘Yes, without the fight. I might even let you give me a lesson on your bike.’
He buries his head under his arm and nods, forgetting that she can’t she see him.
‘Tate? Tate. Are you still there?’
‘Yeah. Where are you?’
‘Where are we, Gregg?’
‘Five minutes, buddy,’ Gregg shouts into the phone.
Tate groans to himself. The way he feels right now that’s a fucking lifetime. He’s vaguely aware of Chloe and Gregg arguing then hears one of Broken’s songs being played.
‘Tate? You remember this song.’
He smiles. ‘Yeah.’
‘I want you to close your eyes and put yourself in your kitchen. You walked in from work and caught me dancing badly and singing even more terribly to this song. This is the first song you ever sang to me. You remember what you were doing while you were singing?’
‘Can’t forget that.’
‘Just keep thinking about that, Tate. We’ll be with you before the song is over, okay.’
He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to do what she’s asking, but he’s struggling to keep the images straight in his head. He drops the phone onto the bed beside him, the tiny sound of his song still playing though the phone’s speakers. One more verse then the chorus again.
He just needs to hang on a little longer.
