“I know you do, babe.” He leans closer to her face, smiling. “I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t. Not with that bitch, or when I got back, or the fire-”
“The fire?” Mia interjects. “That was you?”
Archie seems to realise his mistake, his head shivering as he holds up a hand. “I-I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I didn’t know you were home. I thought you were out.”
“You wanted to scare me?” Mia’s voice remains so even. “Is that why you did it?”
Archie nods, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. “Uh. I think… I just missed you. And I didn’t… I didn’t want you with… anyone else.”
“Alright. I understand.”
Archie suddenly explodes into motion and snatches Mia to him. Her eyes widen as she’s shoved against his chest, and I barrel forward.
“Archie, stop!” I bellow, and he spins Mia so she’s facing me. “Archie, don’t do this!”
He leers at me over Mia’s shoulder. “You can’t have her, Dad! You can’t! You’ve taken everything from me and I won’t let you take her, too!”
The flat of the blade is pressed against Mia’s side, and she holds my gaze.
“Dom, it’s alright,” she says. “It’s fine. Archie doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He just wanted to talk.”
“That’s right.” Archie stares me down, veins bulging in his forehead, his face turning red. “All I ever wanted was to talk to her. But this bitch-” He points the knife at Charlotte with a shaky hand. “And my own fucking father made that impossible.” He turns Mia back to face him, grasping onto her upper arms. “They wouldn’t let me talk to you, babe. It was all their fault. They got your head all mixed up, they made you believe bad things about me, didn’t they?”
Mia takes Archie’s face in her hands. “Archie, listen to me. You don’t want to hurt me. I know you don’t.”
“I don’t.” He shakes his head eagerly. “I never did. I promise. If I’d known you were in the house, I never would have done it. I swear.”
“I know.” Mia gives him a soft smile. “But you need to put the knife away, and you need to go sleep this off. Whatever you’ve done to yourself, you’re not thinking straight.”
He shoves her away, his face twitching. “I am. I bloody am thinking straight. What, you think I’m crazy?”
“No, Archie, I don’t think that.” Mia raises her hands, her face soft and warm, and the way she’s handling this makes my stomach turn and my awe of her grow all at the same time. She shouldn’t have to know how to do this. “I don’t think you’re crazy at all. I know you’re hurt, and you’re sad.”
“And that’s your fucking fault, innit?” He repeatedly slams the heel of his hand into his forehead. “You fucking bitch. You dirty fucking slag!” He brandishes the knife in her direction again, spit flying from between his lips. “How could you? How fucking could you? He’s mydad!”
Mia glances over at me for a moment, her gaze full of love, and I hate that I’m not between her and my son right now. She looks back at Archie and takes a deep breath.
“Archie, your dad and I didn’t want to hurt you, I promise.” Mia shakes her head. “It wasn’t something we planned. And it didn’t start until I’d told you it was over.”
That was a mistake, and the recoil of Mia’s shoulders as Archie explodes shows that she knows it.
“It’s not over!” Archie screams, pointing the knife in her direction. “It’s not over until I fucking say it’s over! I’m Archie fucking Graves, and who are you? Huh? Some fucking nobody from fucking Leeds! Imadeyou, Mia! You’d still be working the fucking make-up counter at Harrod’s if it weren't for me!” He stumbles forward, and the room bursts into motion.
Charlotte screams as I rush forward, barreling into Archie’s side. Mia cries out something I don’t hear over the sound of the door shattering into pieces as the room floods with police dressed in fucking riot gear.
Over shouted commands I hear Mia calling my name, the police ordering us all to get down and stay down. Someone hauls me off Archie, and Archie is screaming obscenities andthreatening to kill everyone in the room. He works his legs free and kicks me square in the stomach as the police try to subdue him, and I suck in a breath as my lungs burn.
I roll onto my back and sit up, a policeman standing over me and telling me tostay down, stay down.I look over at Mia, who’s cowering against the kitchen counter, her face white as a sheet. She’s covering her ears with her hands, her eyes wide, her head shaking in a shivering rhythm that makes my heart ache.
In a crouch, I cross the floor to her side, and take her in my arms.
“I’ve got you, love,” I murmur, folding her against my chest. “I’m here. You’re safe, love. It’s over now.”
32
DOMINIC
My father staresout the window, his face ashen.
