Page 57 of Pride and Privilege

He took a beat too long to answer. She went to her room and slammed the door.

TWENTY-SIX

Move out. That wasthe only answer. Move out. Perhaps attempt to gatecrash a major crime and get taken into a witness protection scheme. A new name, a new country.

If she moved back to her old estate near Peckham, that might be easy. She knew where the drug dealers lived.

Stupid, stupid thoughts for a stupid, stupid girl.

She tossed from side to side in her bed.Roscoe’s bed. Lying on her side, then her back, the sheets all tangled up and uncomfortable. Everything was uncomfortable. Her skin. Her bones. Her brain. Her life.

It was light outside. Early sunshine hazy through the window, dust motes in the air, a little London grime on the expanse of glass. Roscoe’s windows only got cleaned weekly. Pft. How slobbish. How vulgar. This was practically a slum.

Is that how we’re going to play it?her brain asked.Childish denial? Thinking about anything but last night?

What were her other options? Sobbing great wracking tears until she couldn’t breathe? She’d already done that—biting herarm so she wouldn’t be heard, other hand clutched to her stomach as though the humiliation might disembowel her. Then the waking nightmare of exhausting recollection until the dawn light came through the window.

Her phone was still…somewhere. Wherever she had drunkenly put her bag when they came in last night. The kitchen. The living room. But she knew it was just past seven AM. She’d heard Roscoe leave for the gym.

Gotta keep that body honed. There were probably a few women still out there who hadn’t been wrecked by it.

She breathed a bitter laugh as she pushed the sheets from her legs and got up. Was blaming Roscoe going to be her tactic? When she’d practically begged him to kiss her? Had, in fact, uttered the very wordskiss me.

Ugh.

RB Goldy. How had she ever thoughtshecould resist the allure? She was an idiot. Had fallen for her boss. Her landlord. As he had reminded her approximately seven million times last night.

She showered, pulled on some clothes, and slipped out of the flat before he returned from the gym.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His thoughts sounded in time with his steps on the treadmill.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Forty minutes of it, chest heaving, sweat stinging, muscles burning, and he still hadn’t quite exhausted the refrain.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck—

He slapped the machine off, stumbled down. His brain helpfully gifted him a crisp, high-definition vision of Poppy, mostly naked, spread before him on his sofa.

Fuck.

He stalked towards the boxing bag.

Ah, Lewisham. Land of hopes and dreams and market stalls selling curious vegetables. And absolutely no Roscoe Blackton.

Her brothers weren’t happy when she arrived at the flat so early. Liam threw a cushion at her, Harvey grumbled something incomprehensible, dragged his duvet around his shoulders like a grouchy pyjama party king, and shambled off to their mum’s room, where he curled up in her bed and went back to sleep.

It was almost 10AM. Her mum had been at work for hours.

She spent the day, had lunch with Liam and Harvey—instant noodles, toast, more tea than was healthy. Liam went off to work after lunch, and her mum returned. Poppy made dinner. Fish fingers. Oven chips. Baked beans. More tea than was healthy. She dunked biscuits in it and tried not to think about the way Roscoe ate fried chicken.

The way he ate her—

Her biscuit broke off in her tea and she swore, trying to fish it out with a spoon. Too late. It was soggy, crumbled in the bottom of her mug. Would come back to haunt her when she reached the dregs of her tea, malty and gritty and gross. But that was life. Some things couldn’t be undone.

She left Lewisham before it got dark, got off the tube near Roscoe’s flat just as the sun was setting, twilight turning London into shades of purple and ash. She wandered around, unable to take the street to his place. Twice she tried to turn towards it, but her footsteps carried her away, down different roads. She walked until she was almost lost—almost, because it was always possible to see some landmark in the distance and orientate herself back home.

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