He grabs my hand, and we start to push our way through the crowd to a waiting car that Owen’s office has arranged. He opens the door and pushes me. I stoop and watch dumbfounded as the people of the press look gob smacked, and for the first time, quiet.
Well then, that was winging it!
20
Owen - Age 14
Shedidn’tmakeitto Gemma’s.
Instead, she hid in the cupboard. I could feel her eyes through the crack as James pushed me to the floor and kicked me until darkness loomed.
And even then, as the shadows encroached and stars danced in front of me, her icy blues stared at me through the crack in the door. I was glad it was me. I was glad I was the one on the floor with tears streaming down my face, determined not to give him the satisfaction of making a sound.
I was glad that in some sick way she was with me.
I was glad I hadn’t broken that promise yet.
The promise that I’d always protect her.
But as his boot connects one last time, there’s a whisper in my subconscious that soon I’ll break that promise.
21
Kara - Present
“Whatthehellwasthat?” I snap, picking up my phone and turning it on.
“That, Cookie, was winging it.”
“You called them out, Owen. You challenged them. Do you do this shit on purpose? I swear to God…” I rub at my temples, my head pounding. “You’re so bloody blaze about this. You’re in so much shit, and yet you’re waltzing around like you haven’t got a care in the fucking world.”
“Because they win if I don’t,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “Do you know where you’re going?” he snaps at the driver, leaning forward.
The driver looks in the rear-view mirror, eyes wide at his sudden outburst. “Yes sir, to your apartment.”
“Don’t talk to him like that. He’s just the poor driver. I’m so sorry,” I apologise to the driver.
Owen flops back. “Look,” he clears his throat, “we aren’t going to see eye to eye on everything. I get that you’re not going to want to take risks, but I didn’t get here without doing just that.”
“The risks are slightly different here. We are talking about life and death, Owen.”
“I am fully aware of that,” he whispers through gritted teeth. “I’m surprised her blood came out of my shirt. She was my friend. Don’t forget that, Lucy. I know exactly what’s on the line here.”
We stare at each other, giving each other the stink eye before I turn away on a huff.
“You’re a pain in my arse.”
“So you keep telling me. But we are doing this my way. Now, can I have the phone again? I want to check my social medias.”
“Social media? Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious.”
“You’re an arsehole.”
“No, I’m not. But if it’s easier for you to keep telling yourself that, so fucking be it.”
I don’t reply. I’m raging.
