Lay Low

Chapter Thirty Eight

It was a Sunday night and I was finishing off some homework.  I had been trying to catch up on what I had been behind with after my stoner last few weeks.  

The house was quiet as I typed out some English coursework on my laptop.  Everyone else was out.  Mum and Hannah had gone to the cinema and Max, Kai and Jane had gone to visit Jane's parents.  

My phone beeped.  I looked down at the reminder that had popped up telling me that I should leave so I wasn't late.  I was due to meet Lyla at Chris's house.  Her Dad had forbidden me to go to her house ever again so we had to meet clandestinely.  It meant little alone time still as coming back here was not on – two little kids and a trio of parents did not put either of us in a romantic mood.

I threw my pen down, pleased to have an excuse to finish.  Grabbing my coat, I headed out the front door.   I jumped on my bike and pedalled down the driveway.  

At the end of the drive a car jolted out in front of me.  I couldn't stop in time and I crashed into the side of it, flying over the bonnet and on to the gravel.  My arm was crushed awkwardly beneath me and as I hit the ground I felt pain soar through my shoulder.  I heard a car door slam and feet walk towards me.

"Oh God, I think it is dislocated" I said, looking at my left arm hanging at a funny angle, just like it had last time. "Can you call an ambulance?"

I looked up to see Tony.  He grabbed my other arm and pulled me up.  I cried out as the movement jolted my arm.  He half dragged me up the driveway before I could fathom what was going on.

"Open the door" he roared.  I hesitated and he pulled on my left arm, causing me to let out a scream.   I felt faint as the pain flashed through my body.  I used my other hand to get out the key.  He opened the lock and pulled me inside, throwing me down on the floor.

He paced into the other downstairs rooms. "Where is she?" he shouted. "Where is your mother?"

"They have...gone out" I panted through the pain.

"Where?" he yelled.

"I don't know" I lied.

He slipped his police issue truncheon out of his pocket and used it to pin my throat against the wall. "Tell me" he growled.

"I don't know, I don't know" I whispered, the air barely getting out.  He released me and gave me a kick.

"Then I'll wait" he said.   

He grabbed me by the collar and towed me into the lounge.  As he flung me across the room, I careered into the coffee table.  The contents crashed to the ground, a glass vase smashing onto the hard wood floor.  I crawled and pushed myself against the sofa, my shoulder throbbing.

He headed to the drinks cabinet and pulled out a bottle of his favoured whiskey.  He ripped the lid off and dispensing with the need for a glass, poured the amber liquid down his throat.

"You're not so chatty this time, are you?" he taunted, sitting on the edge of the sofa opposite me.  He grabbed me by the hair and slapped me hard across the face.  I swear I could feel the imprint of each finger.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered. "She isn't worth it."

He looked at me. "She is everything to me.  I would do anything for her."

"Then let her leave" I said.

"Anything but that" he said, pouring more liquid down his throat.  I took a look at him now.  Dark circles engulfed his eyes; his always clean shaven face was covered in dark hair.  He looked, well, terrible.  Deep inside me a voice whispered