My fingers unfurl,and I push Tod away. “Make no mistake, this doesn’t mean we are friends.”
“No.” Tod’s shoulders slump. “But you’ll be good to her, won’t you?”
“That’s none of your fucking concern.”
A scream rings out from the gallery. My blood runs cold, my feet already moving as I push Tod out of the way, his shoulder colliding with the wall of the narrow hallway.
My legs piston, my jacket suddenly tight, fastening like claws around my shoulders. I round the corner, almost knocking Primrose over as she appears from the kitchen.
“Is that Lavender? I think it is,” she calls after me. Like I don’t know—like I can’t feel her distress in the marrow of my bones.
A shout this time, then a thump. The sound of things hitting the floor.
I almost fall myself, my shoe leather slipping on the polished floor as I round a corner to find a man holding Lavender in a corner. Fury bursts through me as he shakes her, his hands pinning her forearms, his hips—
“Fucking psycho!” he yells.
“I’ll tell—I’ll tell them this time!”
“Who’d believe you?Argh!You fucking bitch!” he bellows as Lavender rakes her nails down his face, her expression so fucking fierce. “You’ll pay for that!”
Someone is paying. Someone always pays.
He lifts his right arm and, before I can reach them, brings the back of his hand hard across her cheek. She cries out, and my heart feels her pain.
Luis bursts through the front door. But I get there first, wrapping my right arm around the fucker’s neck, his trachea pressed against the crook of my elbow.
“What the—”
“Get your fuckin’ hands off my wife.” Six words deliver staccato, matching the fist I hammer to the side of his face. It’s a waste of energy but satisfying to hear him yelp. With a grunt, I tighten my grip. “Dumb fuck. Save your breath,” I grunt as I clasp my hands behind his neck.To squeeze.“You’re gonna need it.”
“You—”
I yank him backward, his heels scrabbling for purchase on the floor. Not finding any as I choke him into unconsciousness. His body goes slack, crumpling to the floor as Lavender slides down the wall.
“Sweetheart.” I scan her neck, her face, my hands running over her, desperate to make sure she’s whole. “Say something, please.”
“My legs feel like jelly.” Her words hit the air in an incredulous-sounding warble. “They wouldn’t hold me up.”
“It’s okay now. You’re safe.” Strange how my reassurance feels as much for myself as for her.
Thump, thump, thumpgoes my heart. In my chest. In my neck.
A dull thud sounds from behind me. Another. Another. Lavender pushes her head into my chest.
“Make it stop,” she whispers hoarsely.
I say something in Llanito, maybe Spanish, that makes the sounds halt, and Luis curses.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” My words are all relief and thanks as I fall to the side, pulling Lavender into my lap. I stroke her hair, her back, and curse Tod and fate for keeping me outside.
Primrose kneels beside us, her words not making any sense.
Luis pulls out his phone, words like a rapid-fire down the line.
“Rope,” he then demands with an aggressive roll of his r’s.
“M-me?” Tod squeaks from the other side of the room.
