‘We’re always wanting something, Nicole. I’m always wanting from you.’
‘Alright.’ I draw in a breath, trying to think. ‘But not down here. We’ll go up and talk.’
As quick as a viper, he lashes out, knocking my phone to the ground and smothering the light. A breath escapes me when he slams me against the wall, one arm across my chest like a prison bar.
‘You don’t dictate the rules here, Nicole. It’s me you owe. All I did for you, allwedid for you, only for you to leave without a whiff of a goodbye. Not to any of us. Joey fucking cried for weeks.’
I close my eyes, despite the pitch black surrounding us. I need it darker. So dark I lose myself, dissolving into nothing.
‘You’re not an idiot, Damien. I never went far. You could have found me anytime.’
He chuckles, bathing my face in it. ‘Nicole, you stupid bitch. I knew where you were this whole time.’
So, he does want something. Wouldn’t be here otherwise. I just need to figure out what.
‘I need you to come home,’ he says, gentling his arm.
‘What?’
‘There’s shit that needs dealing with. That we need your help with.’
‘You’re fucking crazy,’ I gasp out, outrage overcoming my fear for a second.
‘Maybe, but you are if you don’t do what you’re told.’
‘I’m not setting foot in that hellhole,’ I spit.
Tensing, I wait for him to hurt me.
‘Okay,’ he says instead, his voice deceptively jovial. ‘Okay. Fair dos. Weren’t happy there, were you? Not even when I took you under my wing, ungrateful fuckingcunt.’
I wince at his insult. Always hated this swing between merry and furious. You never knew when it would come. Kept you constantly on edge, just how he wanted it.
‘You know, I did my research before coming here. Dunno, just had a feeling you wouldn’t comply. You’ve not got much going on, have you? Bit of sports, those two dykes you room with…that pretty one too.’
My skin prickles at the mention of Tilda.
‘Is that your girl?’
‘No.’
‘No? Huh, that’s odd. Sure do seem close, if a bit volatile. But we like it like that, don’t we? All that seething rage. Does something to people like you and me.’
‘We’re not together,’ I say more firmly, hating the insinuation that we’re similar. He used to do that all the time, carving out this tiny world to stuff us both inside. No one else understood us. It kept me away from them and glued to him. I see it all so fucking clearly now.
And I can’t bear him knowing of Tilda, using her as a bargaining chip. Because that’s where this is going. The threat’s right there, bobbing on the surface. He doesn’t even have to voice it.
‘Looks like we have the same type.’ He breathes out a laugh. ‘Never thought I’d say that. Love a girl who dances on the edge of darkness. I’ve been watching you. Watching her. So fixed onher, you never even noticed. Loves young dream. You and your friends like sharing, hm? Good news for me.’
‘You don’t fucking touch her.’
‘And I won’t—not if you do as you’re told. But if you don’t…well, wouldn’t mind giving that one a new tattoo. She’d look good with my initials. You always did.’
‘Youfucker.’
With all my might, I push him. I think it takes him by surprise. He stumbles before regaining his footing. He slams me against the tunnel wall, making me cry out with the pain of it.
I squeeze my eyes closed, waiting for the blow, knowing it’s coming this time.