“You know I can. But aren’t you coming back? After the Lockwoods withdrew their statements, the police dropped the case.”
A lightning bolt shot through my skull at what he’d said. But it didn’t make sense and I didn’t trust it for a second. If anything, this was a set-up to lure me out of hiding. Shit was always shady where the Lockwoods were concerned, and I’d had my fair share of bullshit off them over the years.
“The fuck? Why would they do that? What’s in it for them?”
I frowned, my head starting to hurt from thinking about what those fuckers were up to. Harper too. My feisty little one was growing bigger claws, but she needed them clipped. She needed to be put in her place.
“On second thoughts, don’t answer. They’re up to something. They always are.”
Finn nodded, but I knew he didn’t agree. He always saw the best in people. It was his biggest downfall and the reason he needed me around. I trusted no one.
“So, when can you get me the phone?” I asked, growing impatient. I’d been there for three minutes already and that was too long. “I don’t want to be hanging around for much longer, mate.”
“I’ll head into town now and get one. Can you give me a couple of hours?” Finn started gathering his gear together, ready to leave.
“I’ll give you one hour, then I’m gone. Don’t let me down.”
He looked up at me, trying to hide his anxiety. He knew I meant it.
“Oh, and Finn? Don’t tell anyone else you saw me. I came to you ‘cos I know you can keep your mouth shut.”
Forty minutes later, Finn came back to the underpass with the latest iPhone and a shitload of free data. I knew there was a reason he was my favourite. If you asked him for a pound, he’d give you two and ask if there was anything else you needed.
“Will you at least tell me where you’re staying?” he asked, looking genuinely concerned.
“I’m okay. I have a roof and four walls. That’s all you need to know. When I’m ready to tell more, you’ll be the first person I come to.”
He seemed happy with that answer and gave a weak smile.
“They miss you, you know. We all do.”
And I call bullshit.
“Didn’t stop them doing the gigs again though, did it? Those parties were my idea. I deserve a cut.” It still stung that they’d done that without me. Those were my events. Damn it, I was the fucking event. People only came to watch me fight.
“And if you come back, you’ll get a cut.” He sighed. “Do you need any money? I don’t have much, but whatever I’ve got you can have.”
I needed to start teaching him to defend himself again. Weak fucker was gonna get his ass kicked for being so damn nice.
“I’m good, but thanks.”
“For what it’s worth,” he added. “They didn’t want to start it all up again without you. And to be honest, it’s just not the same. We needed the extra cash though, and we’ve been chipping in to help your nan.”
“Yeah, she told me.” I let slip and then covered my mouth, realising what I’d said.
“We guessed she knew where you were. Didn’t push it though. She’s your nan. Be careful though. I think the Lockwoods are watching her.”
Fucking Lockwoods could watch all they wanted. If I got my hands on them going anywhere near my nan, they wouldn’t have eyes to watch her with. Burning their cars was just the start as far as I was concerned.
“I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t get caught. I’d never put her in danger and I’d never let them hurt her either,” I stated, as if it needed saying. Finn knew me. He knew what I was capable of.
“Cool. Well, you know where I am if you ever need me, bro.”
“Yeah, down here mooning over a ten-foot portrait of Effy fucking Spencer.”
He went bright red, like I hadn’t guessed who it was he was painting. Dude was flogging a dead horse with that one.
“If you want my advice, you’ll give it up. Fuck them, but never let them get their claws in and never stick to one girl.”
“Effy’s not like that.”
I laughed at his naivety.
“They’re all like that. Trust me. You come first.”
And with that little nugget of wisdom, I left him to brood over his artwork and the hopelessness of his case.
I didn’t want to be here.
If it wasn’t a stipulation from my workplace that I attend, I wouldn’t be.
I sat twiddling my thumbs as the counsellor from occupational health wittered on about the merits of grievance counselling and the statistics for successful phased returns to work after a breakdown like mine. He said all the right things. They were there to support me. They wanted what was best. But spending a rainy Wednesday afternoon in this guy’s stuffy office, bobbing my head like a nodding dog in the back window of a granny’s car wasn’t helping at all. He was speaking and I didn’t want to listen.
“Everything we say here is strictly confidential. Unless you tell me something that I feel could or would cause you harm, then I’ll need to report it to other agencies.”
So not confidential at all then.
“But I will always ask for your permission to share anything. You can trust me, Harper.”
Yeah, no. I was jumping through his hoops because I had to. I had no choice. But if he thought I’d open up to him after sitting there for ten minutes, he was kidding himself.
“Do you want to tell me a bit about what happened?” He sat forward in his chair, his focus trained solely on me.
“My twin brother died. Well, I say died, he was murdered.” I shrugged like it was nothing. It fucking wasn’t.
“Murdered? Do you want to elaborate? I understand if it’s too difficult at the moment.”
He started to scribble down notes, and I stared at the wall opposite with its framed awards that meant absolutely nothing.
Did I want to elaborate?
I guessed it wouldn’t hurt to put out there what was already common knowledge. Everyone in Sandland knew about Brodie.
“He was in a fight. The guy hit him, and he went down, banging his head off the concrete floor and fracturing his skull. He bled out on that floor. A filthy barn with hay and shit everywhere. It was degrading.”
Counsellor guy stopped writing and looked up. Despite what I’d thought only moments ago, I was starting to open up. I had to offload. The whole sordid saga had built up inside of me, like bile that clung to every inch of my soul, stagnant, and damaging for far too long. I needed a release.
“I held him in my arms as he died. I’ve still got the clothes I wore that night too. They’re covered in blood, but I can’t bring myself to get rid of them. I need to keep them.”
“Why do you need to keep them, Harper?”
I looked at him like he was an idiot.
“Because they remind me of what happened and what I need to do next.”
“And what is that?”
Did he really need to ask?
My need to impress this guy had long since flown out the window and I couldn’t hold back from blurting out what truly lay in my heart.
“Get revenge. He needs to pay for what he’s done to us, what he did to Brodie that night. He can’t just get away with it. No one else seems bothered about making him pay, but I am, and I will. Make him pay, that is.”