Page 31 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

“It was there. I promise. I promise. Don’t leave me. You have to find it.”

William dropped to the floor and looked under the bed, then stood. “Well, it’s gone now.”

“I can’t live with rats, William. You know this,” she whined, and for the first time, she actually sounded frail and Rosie almost fell into the pit of feeling sorry for her.

“I’ll call an exterminator tomorrow.”

“What if it comes back?” she demanded with the same pitiful voice as William headed out of the room. “What if I need the bathroom?”

William shut the door with a casual, “Bye, Mother.” He finally looked at Rosie and paused. “What?” he asked, like he could read the judgement in her expression.

“Nothing,” Rosie said.

“She’s lying.”

Rosie hugged her arms around her. “Good. I mean, I hate rats.”

“There are no rats. I promise.” William walked past Rosie. “Other than one named Maria.”

Rosie followed him out the front door and hesitantly closed it behind her, closing in the sounds of the woman calling for them. Her heart twanged from it. How much more of this would they have to take? A battle of wills William had assured her, but maybe her will wasn’t as strong as Maria’s.

“Rat,” William muttered as he pulled the bike out of the garage, shaking his head. He paused and turned to Rosie. “She’d say anything to keep me here. She’s a control freak. But I’m not letting her control me. I’m not.”

Rosie nodded, feeling bad for him. He was trying to convince her, but really, it was himself he was talking to. She could tell. “What did Carly say?”

“Carly? Oh … I’m seeing her next Tuesday like always. She said we can do a double booking, so you can come in after and we can discuss other things then. Is that okay? I told her you might be working; she said just to call her and change the second one if we need to.”

“I think I have work that day.”

“It’s no bother. Just call her later.” He held a helmet out to Rosie. “Should we hit the road before it gets too late?”

It was possible Rosie could agree to anything this man asked of her. She took the helmet from him and smiled as she did so, and just like that, the rat was forgotten.

They piled everything into the bags on the bike and Rosie glanced back at the house, eyeing the window to Maria’s room. Her stomach yanked at finding her there, a hunched over creature staring at Rosie with the most hateful look. Rosie fought to tear her gaze away from the burning glare, but she couldn’t.

“Ignore her,” William said, grabbing his own helmet, and she didn’t resist his urgent hand guiding her towards the bike.

She put her helmet on, and when William wheeled the bike out, she got on the back of it as sickness made her stomach cramp. Why did he have to have a mother who hated her so much? The weight of that sad reality suddenly made it hard to breathe. It was bad enough they had William’s demons to contend with, but this? Why couldn’t they catch a break?

William shoved the key into the ignition, and a second later, the bike rumbled into life underneath her. He rolled it. Seeming eager to leave. She couldn’t blame him, but at the same time, Rosie was torn with guilt, or at least the realisation that she should probably have some for the other woman.

“Are you sure it’s safe? To leave her? What if she falls?”

William turned around, almost smacking his helmet into hers. He rammed up his visor. “What? What did you say?”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t hear you.” He popped up her visor. “What did you say?”

“Are you sure it’s safe to leave her? Alone? I mean … she may fall, or …”

William rested a hand on Rosie’s leg. “She won’t fall. She only pretends to be feeble. She’s not.”

Rosie went quiet and waited for William to rant, but he didn’t. He turned back around, kicked the bike into gear and rode off with her on the back.

She leant into him, head against his back, arms at his waist. The more they rode, the easier it came to hold him, and she felt herself melting against his body. As the distance grew between them and the house, she felt her unease begin to dissipate too. She understood right then, why William loved his bike so much, why he loved the feel of it, to just go out and ride. There was a certain freedom with it. The way the wind whipped around them--they were a blade cutting through it with ease.

So many lanes. If William decided to abandon her, Rosie was sure she’d be lost forever. There was no way to trace all the turns he took, and she’d left her bag of breadcrumbs in the house with the witch. How was he managing to find the way himself? It was beautiful, though. More magnificent than she had ever seen. Back home, where she’d lived, it was all hills and artificial trees. Everything at home seemed to be put there on purpose, but this was raw, feral, the way nature had intended it all to grow. Even with her helmet on she could smell the damp leaves and the autumn air.

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