swollen with conviction.
‘You motherfucking sonofabitch—’ Lester scrambled to his feet and threw himself at Robbie, knocking him to the ground and pinning him with his knees. In a series of sickening shots, Lester pummelled Robbie, one punch after another, a hideous grin splitting his face, sharp rasps escaping with each exertion.
Laura moved quickly, hurling herself at her brother’s back, clinging there, clawing at him, biting his sour-tasting skin and begging him to break free. Eventually he did. Robbie was knocked out cold–or worse, she couldn’t tell.
‘Robbie!’ she howled, collapsing on to him. Lester dragged her off, pulling her into the trailer, grabbing her hair with his dirty fists.
‘Let me go!’ she cried, and he obliged by releasing her violently, sending her crashing to the floor and slamming her nose. She felt blood drip thickly, its iron taste in her throat.
Robbie. There might still be time.
Laura knew that speed was her strength. Lester was so drunk, on adrenalin now as well as liquor, that he could hardly stand up straight. She darted past him into her bedroom, grabbed a small bag from the top of the closet and threw some clothes into it. Taking one final look at the room she’d called home for the past seven years, she made her way back into the kitchen.
‘Don’t even think about it, bitch,’ slurred Lester, crashing into the kitchen table. Then he laughed. ‘You wouldn’t even dare. ‘
She watched him stonily.
With a burp he reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of beer.
‘I’m leaving,’ she told him, her expression cold. She stood with her back to the door, ready to make her escape. ‘And I’m not coming back.’
Lester squinted at her. ‘You won’t get far,’ he sneered as he chipped the top off the bottle. ‘An’ run good as you like, little girl: only place you’re endin’ up is my bed.’
He leered towards her, his breath rancid. Frantic, Laura reached behind, ready to push the door open. But before she could he grabbed her wrists and lunged, his bony chest squashing against her breasts.
‘Get your hands off me or I will make you regret it,’ she hissed. She spat in his face.
Lester blinked a couple of times, then sniggered, a cruel, throaty rasp. Shoving his bottle down on the side he pushed her to the floor, restraining her with grimy hands and shoving a knee between her legs.
‘What you gonna do, huh, baby sis? You’re a woman now, and women got things they have to do.’ He unbuckled himself. ‘Sixteen today, ain’t that right? I bet you thought I’d forgotten. Never. You’ll never be able to get away from me.’ His breath was rotten, his teeth blackened. She struggled beneath him. ‘I’m always gonna find you out.’ He landed a wet, rubbery kiss, half on her lips and half on her cheek. ‘Always.’
With all her might she tried to throw him off, kicking and punching and gnawing at his shoulder. He ripped aside her knickers, his mouth open, tongue escaping, eyes wild.
‘I’ve waited for you,’ he gasped, his voice syrupy with desire. To her horror she felt his thing. It wasn’t hard like Robbie’s, it was soft and thin and damp at the end. She gagged.
He thrust her legs apart, guiding himself in. She screamed out loud.
Then, as though an unexpected thought had occurred to him, Lester’s features were suddenly rearranged. He looked puzzled, raised a hand to his head before releasing a watery ‘Ugh’ and slumping on top of her, his face buried in her neck. There was something sticky and warm dripping on to her and as a bead of it slid into her mouth, she tasted its saltiness and realised it was blood.
‘Get him off me!’ she yelled, pushing at his bulk with all her strength. Her brother rolled on to the floor, face down, the back of his head a red, shredded mass of glass and skin and hair.
She stared at it, at him, dumb. It took her a moment to realise there was another person in the room.
Robbie Lewis. He was standing above her, shaking, a glass bottle in his hand. The top of it had come off in a jagged line and glistened black-red in the dim light.
‘What the fuck have I done?’ There was silence before he said it again. ‘What the fuck have I done? ‘
Las Vegas
Elisabeth Sabell stabbed a spear of asparagus with her fork. She bit off its head and chewed carefully, scrutinising her fiancé. They had met for a late lunch at Athena, the Parthenon’s signature restaurant, but Robert had barely uttered a word.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked gently.
‘Nothing’s the matter.’ He loosened his tie. ‘Just a little hot in here, that’s all.’
Elisabeth looked down at her salad, her appetite vanishing. She felt like there was a stamp across her forehead that disclosed her guilt.
‘Are you sure?’ she enquired weakly.
Robert smiled in a way that made his eyes go crinkly at the edges. ‘Of course.’
A simultaneous rush of relief and affection compelled her to take his hand. She stroked his skin with her thumb, the first real act of intimacy between them in weeks. They’d made love, of course, but methodically–not with the passion they’d once shared.
‘What time are you expecting them?’
He reached for his glass of sparkling water and took a very long drink. ‘Early evening,’ he said. ‘They’re scheduled to arrive at seven.’
‘Great!’ Elisabeth sang, wearied by the thought of it. She wasn’t looking forward to this evening at all. The last thing she wanted was to make Lana Falcon’s acquaintance. The woman spelled trouble for Robert and her–she couldn’t put her finger on it but it was definitely there.
Then again, Elisabeth was hardly able to indulge in the mistrust of others. Swallowing her memories of Alberto Bellini with the next slug of Sancerre, she put her cutlery together and gave Robert a tight smile. Since the fight she’d vowed to put him from her mind. It wasn’t easy. Every time she thought of Alberto’s touch, the way he had caressed her body with hands that had known a thousand dangers, she felt a shiver ripple right down her spine.
‘I’ll give them a tour of the Orient before we eat,’ said Robert. He cleared his throat.
As Elisabeth glanced up she felt a stab of guilt. She had to tell him, they were getting married. The twinkle of her engagement ring caught her eye. Robert still hadn’t mentioned a date for the wedding. In a defence she didn’t quite support, she decided it was no wonder she’d found solace elsewhere.
