‘I do. From the coffee shop,’ I say.
‘Mhmm.’ He nods. ‘But not from before that.’
My pulse is thumping behind my breastbone. ‘Should I?’
The chair squeaks as he leans back.
‘I was there,’ he says. ‘That last afternoon. In the woods behind your parents’ house.’
The cold that moves through me has nothing to do with the concrete floor. We were right. We just hadn’t seen past his geeky barista cover.
‘I don’t know what you?—‘
‘Don’t lie to me,’ he screams, ripping across the floor. ‘I’ve been waiting fourteen years for this conversation, and you don’t need to start with a lying fucking mouth.’
I clench my teeth so hard it hurts.
He crouches a little way from me, I assume out ofreach. ‘His father used to take me there sometimes. Under the guise of spending time together, man to boy. But sometimes, he’d let the men pick me up and take me for the day. Or the night. You know what the cottage was. I saw you watching, once. You know what happened there.’
‘Yes,’ I admit.
‘I was taken there a few times that summer.’ His jaw tightens. ‘I was only nine. I didn’t know how to make them stop. My dad threatened to whip me with his belt if I told anyone, and that no one would believe a stupid boy even if I did.’
He looks up at the dark ceiling. ‘And then that day, he came for me. And I prayed to a god I didn’t believe in to kill the man. To find a way to stop him from hurting me. But when we got there, he couldn’t find Liam. I was told to stay in the house, but after a few minutes, curiosity pulled me toward the voices outside.’
I close my eyes, remembering the way Liam’s dad yelled.
‘I saweverything,’ he says. ‘I saw him catch you, and I saw the boy hit him, and I saw you push him into the well. I heard him crunch. And after Liam and you ran, I went and stared at his body. Hell, I pissed down that well, so sure that finally the pain and humiliation were going to end.’
Beside me, Liam hasn’t moved.
‘I waited for a long time in those trees, and when noone came to save me, I called my dad. I wanted to call the police, but I’d seen the officer with the handcuffs doing the same things my dad did.’ He pauses, swallowing hard. ‘So I went home, and when I told my dad what happened, he beat me so hard I pissed blood for a week. I waited for the police to come. I waited every fucking day. I thought you’d tell someone. That you wouldn’t leave me to rot.’
‘I tried,’ I say.
‘Not hard enough,’ he says. ‘You knew what was happening in that cottage, you watched what they did to me. And you just went on living your posh little life like we didn’t matter.’
‘I was just a kid…’
‘I waitedsixmonths. Believing every day that the next knock would be someone to save me. I thought Liam would tell. He couldn’t live on his own. Surely someone would notice the man was gone and ask the boy, and the boy would tell them.’ He looks at Liam. ‘But he never spoke. Not even to save the rest of us from the same pain he knew.’
‘I told him not to tell,’ I say. ‘I told him it had to be a secret.’
‘Then I was fifteen, and I found a public computer, and I searched, and I found the missing persons report. No body found. No investigation.’ His mouth twists. ‘One fewer bad man in the world and nobody cared.’
‘He deserved what happened to him,’ I say.
‘Yes,’ Sam agrees, standing upright and looming in the low light. ‘He did. They all do. Every single one of them who ever came to that cottage deserved the same thing. But so do you. Because your inaction caused me years more fucking pain. A childhood knowing nothing but hate. You did that.’
‘I was eight!’
‘I don’t care how old you were.’
‘Then why?—’
‘Because I need someone to pay. I tried to move on. For years. But then you showed up in the coffee shop, and I recognised you. And you were so fucking happy. Always giggling with Ellie and acting as if you belonged with her light, when I knew the truth. That you were a killer.’
The shadows move as I swallow.
