In the distance, I hear the first shriek of a siren, but I don’t care. None of it matters.
Nothing matters except the girl in front of me.
She takes the cricket bat in her hand and turns on her heel, stalking towards where Marnie crouches over her husband, taking an early crack at grieving widow.
Esme swings it with all her might, aiming it at the woman’s knee. The joint makes a grinding sound when her adoptive mother tries to stand, her face so pale it only takes seconds before she faints dead away.
Esme frowns at the bat. “I thought it would be more satisfying.”
“Want to try something else?”
She laughs and shakes her head, handing it back to me. “You need to go. Otherwise, the police will be here any minute.”
“And?” I move closer to her, taking her hand. “I’m not going without you. The police don’t scare me.” A grin takes hold of me and won’t leave. I lean forward and whisper in her ear, “If you want something a little more satisfying, I’ve got a treat lined up for you in the house.”
There’s a faint wince at the word treat and I wonder how many times someone in this fucked up arrangement used it as a prelude to abuse.
But I can’t keep going along that line or I’ll melt down and be incapable of being who I need to be for her in this moment.
This moment and every one of them that follows.
“You want me to chase anyone?” I ask, taking the bat from her fingers and hiking it so my hand grips it near the join of the handle. “Just direct me where to go.”
Her eyes sweep the few guests cowering at the edge of the jetty because their brains froze them in place. One man splashes in the water, using the glacial lake as his getaway.
“You think I can sink him?” I ask, darting around Maxwell to grab the ball, but she snatches it away from my fingers.
“That’s mine.” She shakes her head. “The police mightn’t scare you, but they’ll stop you. You need to go.”
“Come with me, then.” I grab her hand and tug her towards the house. “There’s another thing I want you to see.”
She lets me pull her a few reluctant steps, then laughs and sprints past me until I have to work to catch her. When she reaches the double doors at the rear of the house, she pauses, tilting her head back to sniff the air. “What’s that smell?”
“Petrol. Kerosene. A few cans of lighter fluid. Somehow it got spilled throughout the house.” I pull a lighter from my pocket. “Want to do the honours?”
Her smile falters. “They’ll arrest you. They’ll put you in jail.”
“Really?”
I pull her close and lose myself in her kiss for as long as I dare, then another few moments longer. When I reluctantly pull away, her face is twisted with worry.
“A friend told me your father has a knack for making police look the other way. With what I’ve learned over the past few days, I’m sure this will soon be one of those occasions.”
“He’ll hurt you.”
“As much as he’s hurt you?” I snag her around the waist and draw her against me. “I doubt it.” My eyes sweep across her face, resting on the tiny pinprick of blood on her cheek. “My mother had an insurance policy tucked away. It’s now in much safer hands than the police.”
“It won’t be enough. You don’t understand how much power—”
“Then we can work out the rules for when you visit me in prison.” I kiss the side of her neck. “And if that’s where I’m ending up, it’s too late to avoid it.” I drop my voice lower. “My sponsorship is also officially fucked.”
Her shoulders shake and when I lift my head, I’m glad to see this time it’s from laughter.
“Oh, I see. You think it’s funny I’ve blown through my first big payday. How rude.”
“What evidence?”
The question is out of left field, and I struggle for a second to answer it. “Pictures. Names. Dates. Everything my mother can remember from when she went to the police the first time. She kept a few things back because she didn’t trust the officer but didn’t know where else to use it.”
