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“We do?”
“Seriously, can you use other words apart from we and do and do and we?” Fleur huffs as she finishes lining the toilet with toilet tissue and before I make it to the third stall she asks, “Can you hold the door; you know
I hate locking myself in these things.”
Her fear of tightly confined spaces is so bad that she would leave the door wide open for anyone to see her rather than locking it, and although I need to go myself, I help her first.
“So, spill!” she yells from inside her loo. Arabella adds, “He likes you. I can tell.”
The butterflies are back with a vengeance and I feel so full that my organs are a little achy.
“You can?”
“He’s here when it’s probably the last place he wants to be with Kit being in hospital and all.”
“Who’s Kit?” Yelling from inside her cubicle, Fleur pushes the door, so I let it open and then she washes her hands. “Why is he in hospital?”
The look on Arabella’s face as she comes to join us is so sad that she looks like she might cry.
“Leo’s brother, he’s in a coma.” Her brittle words are followed by a deep sigh and swallow, and I can’t help the sadness I feel on her behalf and for Leo.
I feel like a horrid person for coercing him here when this must be the last place he wants to be. “Is he going to be okay?”
Arabella’s shrug is coupled with a shake of her head, like there’s a tiny chance but mostly she doesn’t think so. “I hope so, he’s my partner in crime.”
Stepping closer, Fleur brushes Arabella’s hair with affection she reserves for the people closest to her and linking their arms, she bumps Arabella’s hip lightly with hers and starts to head back to the guys without another question.
“I need to go too!” It’s only when they reach the exit that I remember that I’m moments away from peeing myself. “I’ll meet you back out there.”
I nip into the loo and squat awkwardly because the space is so tight that you need to hold on to something for support, but it’s also so dirty that you don’t want to touch anything. Finishing as quick as I can, I wash my hands, my thoughts of Leo and my excitement cocooning me in my own little heavenly bubble.
I want to keep you. That’s the only thing I can hear, and I can’t control the excitement that buzzes inside me as it repeats in my head.
This is the happiest I’ve felt in so long, and it’s the first time that my heart has felt like this. Like it’s really doing something worthwhile, not just keeping me alive, but feeling.
Using a piece of toilet tissue, I unlock the cubicle door, and when I look up after dropping it in the toilet, I freeze.
Dread and panic render me immobile, my throat swells and makes it impossible for me to scream as the menacing man advances on me, one of his fingers pressed to his lips as he waves a small gun in his other hand.
As he reaches me, I flit through all the ways to defend myself that Wayne has taught me over the years, but it’s pointless because I can’t correlate my thoughts with my actions. Instead I feel like I’m spinning, like I’m caught in a whirlpool going down a drain and there’s nothing I can hold on to.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
I blink once and then again, to make sure I’m not seeing things. That my eyes and my newfound paranoia aren’t tricking me because it’s all in my head and no one was watching me...
Oh God.
Do not cry. Don’t show weakness. Stay Strong. Don’t fight, unless you can beat them.
I tell myself all the things Wayne has told me over the years in case I found myself in this situation.
It’ll be okay. I’ll always find you.
I believed that like it was gospel, but now, it feels like lies.
“Move!” The sharp command is followed by a rough tug that has a scream ripping out of me as I trip over my feet and land awkwardly on the uncovered tracks.
He’s going to kill me, I swear it, as he points the barrel of his gun at my head, but as I put my hand in front of it, he grabs my wrist, and pulls me over his shoulder.
