Page 55 of The Suitcase Swap

‘Mum, hold your breath,’ Tom said, his voice weary now. ‘That always helps me.’

‘Amaya – that’s my daughter,’ he threw in for Tom’s benefit, ‘told me about this place her friend went to after a bad break-up. I thought it might be fun for Sophie’s blog, so I looked it up to see if there was one in New York. There is.’

Tom rested his chin in his hand, frowning. ‘What kind of place?’

‘They’re called rage rooms. You go to these places and they put you in safety gear and give you a crowbar or a cricket bat or whatever and turn you loose in a room. Then you smash things. Supposed to be very cathartic.’

‘Smash things?’ Sophie asked. ‘What kind of things?’

Mike shrugged. ‘Dishes, printers, whatever they have.’

Sophie turned to Tom.

Tom tilted his head to the side, considering. Finally, he looked at Mike. ‘Couldn’t hurt.’

Mike pulled up the website on his phone. ‘I’ll book us a slot.’

Chapter Sixteen

Sophie adjusted the safety glasses on her head, the clear plastic doing nothing to obscure the room they were all in. The gloves felt loose, so she tightened the straps on her wrists. The baseball bat felt solid in her hands when she picked it up. All in all, she felt better, stronger, more steady than she had in ages, like at any moment roots might shoot out of her feet, snarling into the earth below her.

It was possible that the cold medication was making her a little loopy.

Marisa stood next to her, a crowbar in her hands. She looked determined and not a little bit scary. Tom didn’t seem to think anything of the fierce expression on his fiancée’s face as he leaned down to press his lips to her temple. That earned him a brief flash of a smile.

Mike stood on Sophie’s other side, spinning a cricket bat experimentally in his hands as if testing its weight. ‘Do they even have cricket over here?’

‘Not that I’ve seen,’ Tom said. ‘But I also haven’t been looking.’

Mike hummed thoughtfully as he examined his bat, then turned his attention to Sophie. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Powerful,’ Sophie said. ‘And a bit sweaty in this get-up.’

‘But you’re feeling well?’ Mike asked. ‘You’re not pushing it?’

Sophie shook her head. She’d managed a quick nap and another bowl of soup before leaving her flat. She didn’tfeel totally well, but she was on the mend and well enough for this.

‘It looks like we’re about to go collect forensic evidence or clean crime scenes,’ Marisa said. ‘Or maybe create crime scenes.’

‘Youreallyneed to stop watching all of the true crime shows,’ Sophie said. ‘If that was your first thought.’

Marisa eyed her. ‘Oh really? And what was yours?’

Sophie sighed. ‘Like we’re about to clean up a crime scene.’

‘Pretty sure crime scene techs don’t have baseball bats,’ Tom said. ‘But maybe they should.’

Kim, the woman in charge of their session, came back into the room and clapped her hands. ‘Okay, waivers are all signed and you’re good to go. Anyone have any questions about the rules, or anything else?’

No one did, so Kim barrelled forward. ‘The room’s big, but it’s not infinite. Be aware of where the members of your party are at all times. It’s not fun if someone ends up in the emergency room. You have thirty minutes. If you need anything, hit the intercom, otherwise have fun, kids!’

Kim went through the door with a cheery wave, leaving them alone in a white room which was bare except for a wall-mounted shelf with a few other weapons for their use, as well as a table with some mismatched plates, and a box full of electronics and other items for them to destroy. A single, lonely printer rested on the floor next to the table. The room was very quiet, possibly soundproofed, making the thud of Sophie’s bat hitting the ground as she tapped the floor with it echo loudly.

‘So,’ Tom said. ‘Who goes first? I was thinking—’

Marisa let out a guttural yell, raised her crowbar and rushed the printer. She slammed the crowbar down onto the casing as she screamed, the plastic shell quickly shattering underneath the force of the metal. The rest of them remainedquiet, unmoving, as Marisa screamed, her teeth bared, the metal bar flashing as she brought it down over and over again. The printer bounced with the force, pieces flying this way and that. Marisa didn’t even seem to notice. She kept hitting the printer, venting her rage, until there was nothing left but a pile of mutilated plastic.

Then she straightened, her breath coming in short pants, a smile on her face. ‘That wasamazing.’

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