“I’m beyond pissed off at you for not getting the police involved tonight, but right now, I’m exhausted, you look like absolute shit, we both need a shower, and we both need to try and get some sleep.”
I turn and meet her light brown eyes, one of those tears I was keeping prisoner escapes and rolls down my cheek.
“But at some stage, we are going to talk about this, and you are going to tell me exactly what happened tonight. There is a bed at my house for as long as you need it. I will feed you. I will clothe you. I will lend you whatever money you need, but at some point, I will expect the truth.”
I nod, knowing if I even attempt to speak, the only sound that’ll escape me will be yet another sob.
“Right, let’s get you in and get you showered. Stay there, I’ll come around and help you out.”
* * *
An hour later,freshly showered, and with the blood washed from my hair—thanks to Jo’s help—I’m sitting at her bench wearing one of her hoodies and a pair of hammer pants while picking at a bacon sandwich.
“Eat that, you’re going to need to take some pain meds soon, and you can’t do that on an empty stomach,” Jo orders.
Before I can respond, my phone vibrates from where it’s plugged in at the wall. Jo removes the charger and slides it to me. Jemma’s name lights up the screen. I swipe to open and set it to speaker.
“What the fuck is going on? Where are you?”
“And good morning to you too, Mrs Wilson.”
“Cut the crap, East! Why is your husband ringing me looking for you? What’s happened?”
Jo’s phone begins to vibrate. “It’s Jay. Jem, we’ll call you back in a few and explain everything. Love you, bye.”
“Don’t you dare. . .”
I cut Jem off and end my call as Jo answers hers.
“Hey, Jay. You’re up bright and early. What can I do you for?” She winks at me and says before Jay even speaks.
“Morning, Jo.” My eyes close at the sound of his voice, my heart stutters in my chest, and just for a moment, a very short moment, I feel something. Opening my eyes, I instantly lock it down.
“I don’t suppose you’ve seen my wife, have you?”
“Lauren… no… not since last night. I shared a taxi with her. I don’t understand. She did come home, right?”
“She did, but I got home after her, and I’d had a little too much to drink. You know how she can be? We got into a bit of a blue, and she stormed off.”
My mouth drops open. Jo taps her pointer finger against her lips, telling me to shush.
“In the middle of the night?” she questions Jay.
“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure of the time.”
“And you didn’t go after her?”
“Like I said, I’d had too much to drink.”
“We had a bit to drink ourselves. Surely she didn’t drive?”
“Nah, that’s the kicker, when she stormed off, I thought she’d taken her car. I’d left my car at the club last night and thought I had no way of going after her.”
He’s so full of shit. His car was on our drive when I left last night. He’d driven home from wherever he’d been in the state he was in. I shake my head, my mouth still hanging open. My skin tingles. I’m not sure if I’m in shock or just nervous at the sound of his voice. This entire situation is surreal. I’m listening to my husband tell blatant lies about me to one of my best friends.
“Okay. Has she got her phone with her?”
“I think so, but she’s not picking up. I’ve called and messaged. I’m getting worried, Jo.”