She flings open the front door and pushes me out into the night. I land in a heap, my bag smacking me hard in the head.
I look up to see him pressed against her neck, a faint smirk on his face, eyes burning into mine as Roxy slams the door shut.
I stay frozen for a second, my body stiff with shock.What the fuck just happened?
I sigh, heavy and hollow, and force myself to stand, dragging my bag along. My bare feet slap against the cold pavement.Great.
I head towards town. It’s only a ten-minute walk, but the streets are quiet now that most of the nightlife has faded, so it must be at least four in the morning.
I find a relatively clean doorway and drop my bag. The evening air is sharp against my skin, and without shoes, a chill creeps up my legs. Sitting on my bag, I curl into myself, pressing my hands over my bare feet and resting my head on my knees.
The silence around me hums, broken only by distant traffic and the occasional shout. My chest aches as my hands tremble slightly. I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep, not after that.
Instead, my mind goes back to a time when wandering hands were an every-night occurrence. I shudder, squeezing my eyes closed again. Sometimes, there’s no way of stopping the images, and so I let them flow, drowning me like murky water.
I was a teenager when Mum died. Sixteen. Not young enough for anyone to care and not old enough to start a life of my own. That suited Colin just fine. I think he preyed on my mum because he sensed she was weak. Weak for men. Weak for wankers with heavy fists and fiery tempers. She was like a magnet for them, and they could sniff her out within a ten-mile radius. It was proven by the fact her bed never got cold. One would replace another within a matter of days, sometimes hours, and she never wanted them to leave. They could beat her, treat her like shit, and she’d still do anything for them. Pay their debts, sell her body, and maybe even her soul. And sometimes . . . her daughter.
So, when Colin came along, around the time I turned nine, I assumed he’d be another one to get sick of her after a few months. But months turned to years.
I think deep down, I always knew he’d be the one to kill her.
“Hey, what the fuck you doing in my spot?” I glance up as a woman in rags, stinking of last year’s rubbish, sways in front of me.
I push to my feet. “Sorry,” I mutter, grabbing my bag.
“What’s in there?” she slurs, pointing to my bag.
“Nothing,” I say, trying to get around her to make my escape.
“Prove it.”
I sigh, unzipping the small pocket and reaching inside. I pull out the twenty from Shadow. “Here, take it,” I snap, shoving it in her hand. “You need it more than me.” And I push past her and head off to find another doorway.
I opt for the church. Usually, these places creep me the fuck out, but right now, I’m shattered and out of options. So, I take a seat just behind the high wall and rest my head back. If I can just get an hour before sunrise, I can at least look a little fresher when I go to see Amy about a cleaning job.
I wake with a start. Looking around frantically, I realise it was a voice that woke me . . . a man’s voice.
“Relax,” he says calmly when he sees my alarm. I take a breath. “I’m Kade,” he adds. “The chaplain.” When I don’t respond, he continues. “I haven’t seen you around before. I do a lot of work with the homeless.”
“I’m not homeless,” I mutter, gathering my things.
“Right,” he says, eyeing me as I push to stand. He takes a step back. “Would you like a hot drink?”
I shake my head. “No, but I could use a bathroom,” I say, looking past him to the old church.
“Of course.”
Kade leads the way up the path, and I follow him into the church. He points to a door on the left for the ladies’ bathroom, and I head inside.
I lay my bag on the sink unit and rummage inside until I retrieve my toothbrush and toothpaste. I take in my washed-out appearance and groan. The lack of food is starting to show in my drawn features, and the dark circles under my eyes are giving ‘mess’.
I brush my teeth and splash my face with cold water, using tissue to pat it dry. I have no makeup to even try to improve my face, so I stick to putting on deodorant and heading back out.
Kade is waiting outside, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “All done?”
“Thanks,” I say, passing him and heading out.
He lingers in the doorway. “Look, there are shelters,” he calls after me. “If you need a place, come and find me this evening before six to get a space. I’ll be over at the community hub, helping out at the soup kitchen.”
