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  “So I can take Harper back to her room now?”

  “You can, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to push the chair with that hand. Let her father do that. Oh, and Flynn, I think they’re moving Harper into a different room. Given the…circumstances, the doctor thought she might not want to go back to the same room. You know, just in case he decides to come back at all.”

  I can feel Harper tense up at the side of me. Her breathing’s altered, becoming shallow and fast. She’s scared and that, in turn, is freaking me out. What if he does come back? How can I protect her from him if he decides to return tonight after my curfew? Stupid fucking tag! I have two more weeks with this fucking thing on my ankle, stopping me from being where I need to be, when I need to be there.

  If I’m not home at the right time, then they’ll just lock me up. No questions asked. Leaving Jacob with foster care and Harper alone. That’s something I just can’t risk.

  “Hey, what’s gotten you both all rattled again?” Michael and Penny are back from wherever it was they tactically disappeared to. The concern is etched deep into Michael’s face. He’s obviously blaming himself for the abuse his daughter has suffered, and now he can see she’s still blatantly distressed.

  “The staff are worried Phil may come back later if he’s bailed, and I can’t stay here to take care of her overnight, thanks to this.” Raising my leg slightly, I uncover the ankle accessory that determines my whereabouts after an enforced time.

  “I’ve arranged for Harper to be moved to another room. It’s much more secure, and the hospital staff are appointing one of their own security team to her.” He bends to look his daughter in the eye. “You have nothing to worry about, princess, I promise, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll stay with you tonight. We can order in and watch a movie, or whatever you need.”

  The pain in my chest dulls somewhat. At least if her father’s there then I know she’ll be safe. I can go home to Jacob and Mrs Fisher and come back tomorrow. Harper seems to relax a little too.

  “How about we take a walk in the garden before we go check out your new room?” I have a little over an hour before I need to be making tracks to make sure I’m home in time. I have no intention of leaving a second before I absolutely have to.

  Reaching down, I grasp my girl’s hand with my good one, and she gently squeezes. “Yeah, but just you and me though,” she almost-whispers. I look to her dad for approval. If he feels anything like I do at the minute, he won’t want to let her out of his sight.

  “That’s fine. I can run Penny back to the hotel and be back before you need to leave. Is that okay with you, princess?” Michael is searching his daughter’s face for permission to leave the unit. None of us is used to her short attempts at speaking again yet. We’re still tuned in to her expressions and actions.

  “Flynn’s here,” is all she answers, but it’s enough to make my heart swell, at the same time as giving her father the permission he needs. She feels safe with me here, and it feels like I’ve just won the fucking lottery. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay right here with you until your dad gets back.”

  Sitting on a bench in the grounds, we both smile as Michael and Penny drive slowly past us, waving as they head back to their hotel. My phone vibrates in my pocket, forcing my attention away from Harper for a minute.

  I’d forgotten all about Jacob, what with everything that’s been going on today. I know he’s more than happy at home with Mrs F, but he’s still my responsibility.

  ‘I got a C in maths Grandma Rose wants to celebrate she made a cake and I helped.’

  With everything that’s happened today, this should seem like nothing, but I know this is a massive achievement for my brother. He’s struggled since we lost Mum, but his maths teacher has been putting in extra work with him, pushing him to achieve the best he can. I can’t stop the “yes” that escapes my mouth, along with a small fist pump in the air. Harper notices and giggles softly.

  “Jay, he got a good grade on his maths test. He worked hard and I’m proud of him.” I’m smiling as I wiggle my phone in her direction, realising that’s exactly how I feel. Despite the shitty hand he’s been dealt, he’s coping well and I am proud of him.

  “Tell him,” she says.

  Instead of texting, I hit the button to call my brother. She’s right, it seems more fitting to tell him rather than message it. He’s obviously excited when he answers my call. His words scramble as he tries to cram all he needs to tell me into one breath. I can hear Rose in the background calling out words of praise for ‘her boys’, as she calls us these days. If she only knew that I’d almost smashed some guy’s face in today, I don’t think she’d be that happy with me. I assure Jacob that I’ll be home at the normal time to enjoy the celebrations with them and hang up my call.

  “Come on, let’s go find your new room and get you settled.” Standing, I steer the wheelchair in the direction of the main entrance, ignoring the shooting pain in my hand. It’s nothing compared to what my girl’s been through.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Flynn

  It’s four thirty in the morning. There may have been sleep, but probably not, judging by just how shit my whole body feels. The ache in my hand is like an assiduous reminder of the last twenty-four hours of turmoil, and my head feels like it may just explode, not from any pain but from the thoughts that are swarming through my brain. The inability to switch off is pissing me off. Lying here in the dark is pissing me off. Thoughts of Harper are pissing me off, and that in itself is kind of hard for me to take. The one person who normally enables me to feel calm no longer has the desired effect.

  One thing lying here silently has made me realise, is that I’m angry with her. It’s not a feeling that’s currently sitting pretty with me either. What I’m failing to understand is just why she’s allowed it to happen. She could’ve stopped it long ago. All that needed to happen was for her to open her mouth and tell someone, anyone, what was going on, but she kept it to herself. For how long, I have no idea, but that’s one question I need answering. The rest of the questions are all jumbled up inside my head, making my brain swell.

  Dawn is breaking, and the light in my room changes to a soft, warm glow. Normally the start of a new day would evoke good feelings for me, but today it feels different. The ache in the centre of my chest is back with a vengeance. It’s the weekend, the time I normally spend with Jacob, but the promise I made to Harper last night is weighing heavily on my shoulders. She’s expecting me back at the unit in a few hours, but for some reason, that’s the last place I want to be today.

  Stirring from my bed, I pull on clean clothes. Yesterdays are splattered with his blood. Not wanting to have to explain to Mrs F, I ball them up and head to the kitchen where I shove them in the washer and start the cycle.

  It’s the sound of the machine that disguises my new live-in lodger’s arrival in the room. The cup of tea that I’ve been nursing for the last forty minutes is now stone cold and unpalatable. “Shall I make a fresh pot? You can tell me what’s been going on over a nice hot brew.” There are no more words spoken until she’s sitting next to me, having placed hot tea and a plate of toast on the table. My stomach growls loudly at the smell, as I realise I haven’t eaten since yesterday at lunchtime. “Eat up, son,” is all Rose says, and I do, almost inhaling it whole.

  Once the toast is gone and the teapot has been refilled, she finally asks, “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Do I? I’m not really sure I can. Where would I begin? After all, it’s not my story to tell, it’s Harper’s. The full details are still a mystery to me. All that became apparent yesterday was that she was being abused by someone she trusted, someone her family trusted, and my anger and the need to protect her prevailed. Not a glorious moment for any of us.

  “Not really, Rose.”

  “It may help you to figure it all out if we talk it through. Frank rang me yesterday before you got home. I know what happened.” Stunned isn’t really the correct w
ord to describe how that piece of information just made me feel. The thought that he bothered to pick up the phone to relay the course of events to the old woman sends chills through me. I hate been the subject of gossip.

  “Then I don’t need to go over the sordid details again, do I?” As I push my chair away from the table as I stand, it makes that horrible, high-pitched scraping noise against the tiled floor. The noise echoes around the now silent room.

  “I didn’t ask you about it last night because Jacob was around. I saw the state your clothes were in when you walked through the door, and so did your brother. Are we going to have the police knocking on the door today, Flynn?” Rose sounds and looks concerned. I don’t suppose she’s ever had to deal with the ‘copper’s knock’, as my dad used to call it. Most normal people don’t.

  “I doubt it. Harper’s father dealt with it.” The silence stretches out once more between us, neither one of us wanting to be the first to break it. My mother used to do this too. She had the ability to break me by not doing or saying a single fucking thing. She used to tell me she could see through walls, too, when we were younger. God, I wish she were here now. She’d know exactly what to say to help me figure out how I’m feeling. The anger bubbling low inside my gut is disturbing me, because I’m angrier at Harper right now than I am Phil. That’s what I can’t figure out.

  “The girl at the unit…Harper, she’s being abused. I punched the guy, there’s really not much else to tell you. Apart from that, I don’t know if I’ll be allowed back there to finish my sentence now. Which is shit, ‘cause now my probation officer will have to find somewhere else willing to take on a shit bag like me just so I can complete the next few weeks.” The anger swells inside me again. I’ve let everybody down by reverting to type. Now the blood is racing around my body, making my vision blur, and the emotion erupts. Spinning around with as much force as I can muster, I launch the cup I’ve been holding across the room. It smashes into the opposite wall, scattering pieces all over the kitchen. Not even one iota of the anger I feel dissipates.

  “You going to smash the whole set?” Rose leaves the table and opens the cupboard where we keep the mugs, handing another to me. “Fill your boots. If it helps you figure this out, go ahead. I got more at my house.” The old lady shrugs her shoulders as I take the cup from her. “Hell, I’ll even smash some with you.” Rose swings her arm backwards, throwing another mug clear across the room. When it lands on the floor, it’s intact, apart from the handle. “I guess I’m not quite as angry as you, then...” Rose shrugs her shoulders as she passes me another cup.

  “Why are you two smashing up our kitchen?” Jacob’s standing in the doorway, one hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes while the other is tucked inside his shorts. “All the noise woke me up. What am I missing out on?”

  “Flynn has issues he needs to work out. Get your hand out of your pants and go wash them. You can smash cups too then, if you like.”

  “You’re both crazy,” he mutters as he slinks off back up to his room.

  Maybe he’s right, maybe I am crazy. It doesn’t stop how I’m feeling though. The anger is still there, along with the stupid ache in my chest. No matter how much I try to ignore it, it remains constant.

  “Is she cross because you hit him? Did you stop to think that maybe she didn’t want you to deal with it?” Rose is keeping her distance from me. She knows I’m still wound up like a coiled spring, ready to go. It didn’t occur to me that Harper might be mad at me. Studying my confused look, Rose continues, “Harper is the only one who can stop the abuse. You have to find out why she’s let it continue. Was it going on before the accident, or did it start because of the accident? You need to talk it out with her, nobody else can give you closure on this.” The sweeping brush is in her hand now as she busies herself with cleaning up the mess we made.

  That’s all everyone ever does—try to clean up the mess I make.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Flynn

  It’s been three days since the proverbial shit hit the fan and I pounded Phil’s face with my fist. I had promised Harper that I would go see her the next day, but I couldn’t do it. Until I figure out this anger I feel towards her, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to be around her. She’s been through enough, especially over the last few days, and I just don’t want to make it worse for her. Rose says it’s a natural reaction to a shocking situation, but I’m not so sure. This time last week I would have done anything for that girl, but now, well, now I don’t know. So I’m hiding, hiding from a girl who I was ready to love.

  “You know you can’t avoid seeing her forever, don’t you? You’re going to have to go in there sooner or later, and the longer you leave it, the harder it will be.” I’m mopping out the men’s toilets in the far wing of the unit. It’s a five-minute job, but I’ve managed to make it last an hour. Frank’s been in a few times to see what’s taking me so long. Each time, he’s offered words of wisdom, which I’ve politely ignored. “Flynn, go talk to her.”

  My concentration is focused on wringing out the mop in the bucket, twisting the handle constantly as I push down and watch the dirty grey water squeeze from the once white fibres of the mop. “I will, when I’m ready. I’m supposed to be working off a debt here. You’re supposed to be cracking the whip, not encouraging me to skive off and go talk to some girl.” Carrying the bucket to the toilet cubicle, I empty the dirty water out and flush before squeezing out the doorway, past Frank. “Since when did she become ‘some girl’?”

  “What’s next, boss?” I really don’t want to get into this with Frank right now.

  “Take your break, then you can move down to the physiotherapy rooms. They need all the hand towels filling up. When you’ve finished over there, come find me. There’s a tree out front, needs cutting back hard.” The old man heads down the corridor, pushing his empire along in a little standard-issue storage trolley. It makes me sad to think that’s all he has in his life now, his precious trolley. I know he’s been visiting Rose a little since I introduced the two of them at the fundraiser, but they’re old and companionship isn’t high on Rose’s to-do list right now. I think she has her hands full with Jacob and me.

  My mind sinks into further reflection while I sit and eat the lunch Rose packed for me. She does it every day for both Jacob and me. We’ve both told her she doesn’t need to, but since her husband died, she likes to keep busy. She has nobody else to take care of but us, and I think it makes her feel worthwhile again. She’s made quite an impression on Jacob. He’s completely bought into the adopted grandmother scenario. He’s let her into his life without hesitation or apprehension, and I admire him for that. I don’t think I’ve ever let anybody completely in. The longing for another person to know all there is to know about you, even the parts you wish weren’t there, is huge. A soulmate is not something I’ve ever felt I needed, until recently. I thought Harper could be my soulmate, but if that were true, I wouldn’t feel all this anger towards her, surely.

  I wanted to tell her everything about my life, to purge my soul. It is supposed to be good for you, telling the truth, getting everything out in the open, but what nobody tells you is it hurts like Hell. The truth always hurts, but keeping everything bottled up inside can choke the life out of you and those around you. Telling the truth had been an option for Harper, but she too chose to keep it bottled up inside her. She is living proof that you shouldn’t keep everything locked inside. Trying to cope alone has virtually destroyed her. Her secret was, and still is, ruining her life, and here I sit, playing judge and jury before giving her a chance to explain. The danger is never in loving someone enough to be honest about yourself, but in losing them in the process. Because what happens when they realise they can’t handle the truth? You’re left with nothing, an empty shell. That’s why I never let anyone in, not since losing Mum, anyway. Maybe that’s why Harper chose not to tell anyone about the abuse, because honestly, what would have happened if they didn’t believe her? She’d have been left
with nothing.

  *****

  Locking the stock room door behind me, I head down the long corridor towards the physiotherapy suites. The only sound is the noise my trainers make as they slap against the tiled floor. The unit is unusually quiet today. The place is normally a hive of activity, people bustling in and out of rooms, patients groaning with the effort required to carry out the tasks the therapists are demanding of them, but not today. I peer through the little square glass window in the nearest door, knocking briefly just in case it’s in use, before stepping inside the empty room. The quicker I get these towel dispensers filled, the sooner I can head outside and enjoy the sun.

  The next two rooms are empty, and my mind’s lost to the monotony of the task in hand as I push open the third door, not bothering to knock now. As the door glides shut behind me, I’m acutely aware that I’ve interrupted a session in progress. Not only have I walked in unannounced, but I’m confronted by Harper and her therapist standing no further than five feet in front of me. My jaw drops at the sight of her standing between two supporting horizontal bars. I haven’t seen her stand before, and it knocks the wind out of me.

  “Can I help you?” her therapist asks bluntly.

  “Sorry…I was…sorry, just need to fill up…” The words stutter from my mouth as I lamely wave a pack of hand towels aloft, as if to explain my presence more clearly. My eyes never leave Harper’s, nor hers mine. It’s as though she’s pleading with me silently. The worry and uncertainty are clear on her face. She doesn’t know how to handle the situation any more than I do.

  “Harper, just like we practised, slow and steady. I’m right here for you. I will not let you fall.” The therapist’s attention has switched from my waving of the hand towels back to his client. Harper, however, is still focused on me, as I am her. “When you’re ready, Harper…”