Page 26 of Fury

We sit down, and with a sad smile, I say, “I can’t cry anymore. My face is a mess.”

“Didn’t things go well with Donnie?”

I shake my head. “Fury was right—he’s a nutter.”

I fill her in, and she stares open-mouthed. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?”

“Fury said to try to avoid him, but how long can I do that for, realistically?”

“And why can’t you just report him to the police?”

I shrug. “Fury reckons he’s got people high up.” I bury my face, groaning into my hands. “Who the hell is he anyway? I mean, people high up? What does that even mean?”

She smiles sympathetically. “You hear stories, don’t you, about men like that? Maybe he’s in some kind of mafia?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, how else do you explain it?”

I stare out the window. “I don’t know. I need to send him a text, but I’m scared he’ll be waiting for me at home.”

“Stay at mine?”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to drag anyone into it, especially if he is nuts.”

“Okay, well, send the text now, and I’ll drive past your house a few times to see if he’s waiting.”

I pull out my phone and type a text out.

Me: I’ve spent the day thinking about last night. I’ve had a great time with you, but it’s just not working out for me. I don’t want to see you again. Please respect that.

I turn the phone to Jorja, and she nods, so I send it. “I feel sick,” I mutter.

“Look, he’s not the first nutter you’ve met, right? Men can be intimidating and crazy, but they soon get bored. Once he realises you’re not entertaining him, he’ll back off.”

“I hope so,” I say, but I have a bad feeling.

Once we’ve eaten dinner, Jorja drives me home. We slow outside, and I check the cars parked around the street, making sure they’re empty. “I’ll come in for a coffee,” she says, parking up.

Inside, the place is dark, and I sigh with relief, turning on the lights. “Keep the bolt locked when you’re home alone,” she says, sliding it into place. “And the windows.”

“Maybe Fury got it wrong,” I say. “Maybe he didn’t lock the door at all and just thought he did.”

She nods. “Yeah, but still, lock up properly just in case.”

“Jorja, do you think he’ll get bored?”

She forces a smile, which I know confirms my own fears, but she nods. “Definitely.”

It’sthe middle of the night when I hear a distant banging. I open my eyes and check the clock, groaning when it reads two-thirty. The banging comes again, this time louder, and I sit up, frowning.

My heartrate doubles as I climb out of bed and pull the curtain back slightly so I can peek outside. Two men are holding another man up. He looks hurt, so I open my window. “What’s going on?” I ask.

The two men look up, and I recognise one as Chevy. “He needs help,” he tells me.

“No. Take him to a hospital,” I snap.

“He won’t make it,” he yells. “Open the fucking door, now.”

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