‘Hold on, Harris,’ Amie says.
Ando and Snowie are in discussion over near the doorway, but the conversation only comes in snatches, cos of my head. There’s a bit of, ‘…fucking mental? She’s the bloody sarge’s…’, and there’s a bit of, ‘…two birds with one stone, mate, Leon’ll be fucking rapt…’, and then Snowie’s voice says, ‘…give herself up like that? Her dad’ll be on the fucking warpath…’, and then Ando rumbles, ‘…easy. They both just disappear, all problems solved…’, and then I come back into my body, and realise this is not my imagination. Amie is here with me.
This can’t be happening. I try to get both eyes open. She looks solid. Strands of her hair have slid free of her ponytail, and her hands shake as she rips a piece of fabric off the bottom of her shirt. She’s sweating.
Oh fuck, this is bad. This is worse than this morning, and this morning was the pits. But even when I was screaming I knew she was safe.
‘A-Amie…’ My voice is a weird wheezing croak that stutters on her name. ‘What’re y’doing here?’
‘Don’t talk.’ She’s whispering, wiping my face with the water-moistened cloth. She’s not looking at my eyes, and her own eyes blink hard. ‘Don’t talk, just for a second. I can’t do this if you –’ She bites down on her bottom lip, blinks and blinks as she examines me. ‘Okay, I don’t think your nose is broken, but your cheekbone might be. The bruising on your neck is what’s making it hard to talk. Look at me – Harris,lookat me for a sec.’
She takes my face in both her hands so I’m staring into her eyes.
‘You can’t be here,’ I wheeze. ‘You can’t be here, you gotta –’
‘Shut up. Harris, just shut up. You have a concussion.’ Her eyes well up as she releases my face to tear off more of her shirt, and starts checking down my front. ‘I think most of the blood is from your nose. Most of these cuts are superficial, but these other –’ Her jaw tightens as her voice hisses out. ‘These are burns. These areburns, and I’m going to fuckingkillMarcus Anderson –’
‘Hey.’ I lean until my forehead touches hers, until my arms hurt from pulling against the pole I’m tied to. ‘Hey. Seriously, you shouldna come.’
She eases back to look at me, eyes wide. ‘Well, I wasn’t just going to let themtakeyou.’
It’s the closest I’ve come to crying in the last twenty-four hours. She’s beautiful and she’s here, and I want to hold her, but I can’t.
‘I love you, y’know that?’ It just pops out.
She gives me a wobbly grin. ‘I want you to say that again, when you don’t have your hands tied.’ She cups my cheek, slides closer, her voice low. ‘Dad knows. Reggie’s got my phone.’
That’s all the news she can share, cos right then Ando stomps over and grabs her by the hair. Her hands lift, scratching and clawing, and I make a piss-poor scrabble to stand, sliding my hands up the pole behind me, although my ribs feel like they’re eating me alive.
‘This is your root then, is it?’ Ando pulls Amie up, but he’s glaring at me. He shakes her and she shrieks. ‘She’s a fucking firecracker, mate. You usually got shit taste in women, Harris, but this one, I like. Maybe if she’s real nice to me, I might –’
We never find out what he might, cos Amie reefs around and kicks him right in the nuts. It’s a good solid boot, and Ando drops her like a hot brick. She sprawls with a whoofing gasp, and Ando is doing some gasping of his own.
‘FUCK!’ He lets out a strangled moan.
Snowie steps forward tentatively. ‘Shit, mate, are you –’
‘Get the fuck away!’ Ando yells. He staggers, bent over, towards Amie. He kicks her viciously in the side and she curls into herself, coughing.
My legs shake and my vision’s red as blood. ‘You’re a dead man, Ando. You know that, right? A dead man walking –’
‘I like my chances better than yours, dickhead,’ Ando snarls. He flings around to Snowie. ‘Do somethinguseful, why dontcha, and tie that fucking bitch up.’
Snowie scuttles for another length of the handy ole baling twine. Amie coughs some more as Snowie lashes her hands together in front. His eyes dart back towards Ando, who’s swearing and catching his breath at the shed entrance. Snowie’s forehead is beaded with sweat. I stopped feeling sorry for him a long while ago.
My body’s trembling. I inch back down the pole as Snowie drags Amie closer. Maybe he thinks she’s out for the count after getting booted in the ribs, because he doesn’t tie her to the pole. Amie gasps and shuffles until her shoulders are beside me and her head rests on my thigh. I lean over her, like I’m shielding her, which is pathetic – I can’t even brush her hair back off her face. But now our faces are close, and her warm breath fans me, and this is the best I’ve felt since yesterday afternoon.
‘I warned him.’ She clears her throat, wipes her eyes against my jeans. ‘I did warn him.’
I almost grin. ‘You did. Remind me not to take you on.’
‘Okay.’ She rubs her tied hands against my waist. ‘Rest now. You should rest. I don’t think we have much more time here.’
I don’t know about time. I don’t know about anything anymore, except this thing I’ve just worked out. Because these last twenty-four hours, these last twenty years of my life, it’s been all about enduring. I got through on a steady supply of anger and sheer stubbornness, and when that didn’t work, I phased out, took refuge in my head.
But I’ve got something to fight for now.
Snowie and Ando are back in conversation by the shed door. They think they’ve got me nailed. They think they’ve exploited my weakness, by bringing Amie here.
