Page 16 of Elusive Embrace

“Do you know how embarrassing it is when my cricket mates rub my nose in a photo of you and this fucking arsehole, claiming they saw you getting all cosy at the hotel?”

“He was just there to take care of a fawn.”

“Oh a fawn!” Al shouts. “And that’s why you were fondling his arse.”

“I’m sorry Al,” I plead. “I wasn’t touching him. He had his hands full and I was pulling the key—” The photo does look misleading, I have to admit.

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Give. Me. Your. Phone,” he demands and holds out his hand. I pick my mobile up from the kitchen table and hold it out to him. My hand is shaking and tears blur my vision.

He keys in my pin to unlock my phone and scrolls through it. I almost sigh with relief knowing he won’t find anything.

“Tell me how you contact him.” Al looks at me and his eyes are not the eyes of a human. They look like an animal.

“I’m not. I’m not talk—”

“Natalie,” he shouts and throws my phone against the nearest wall with such force that it chips the paint. The phone lands on the floor with its screen shattered.

“Tell me now,” he screams at me.

“I swear, I’m—” An explosion hits my face. I lose balance and crumble to the floor. I feel heat spreading from where his palm made contact with my cheek.

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he screams even louder, grabbing my hair to hold up my head and raining down more punches on my face. He hits my left eye and I think my lips at some point because I can taste blood.

“This is from him, isn’t it? This is why you won’t wear any of the stuff I bought you.” He grabs hold of my bookworm necklace and pulls until the thin chain snaps. He throws it across the room and finally let’s go of me but keeps shouting and screaming, calling me a liar and a whore.

I curl up on the floor.If I just let him vent, he’ll calm down.I suddenly feel a kick in my side and cry out in pain. That causes Al to stop.

He strokes over my back. “Babe,” he sighs, “I don’t want to hurt you. Next time, tell me. How can I protect you if you don’t tellme?” he asks. I don’t look at him and remain in a ball on the floor.

“Just tell me, okay?” His voice is calm now.

“Okay. Sorry,” I mumble and he gets up from where he was kneeling next to me. I hear him ladling some food from the pan and then the sound of football commentary. He must have turned on the TV.

I slowly uncurl. There’s blood on my hands and I’m not sure where it’s from—probably my mouth. My eyes scan the room, and there, under the table, is the little bookworm pendant. I quietly crawl towards it and as soon as I curl my fingers around it I know what I need to do.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I whisper, sliding the pendant into my jeans pocket. Al ignores me. I think one of my eyes is swelling up because my vision is narrowing but I can see Al on the sofa shuffling pasta into his mouth.

My side aches where he kicked me but I push through the pain, determined to make it out. I turn on the shower to cover any noise then head back to the hallway and carefully close the door behind me. I creep towards the front door, moving as slowly and quietly as I can. The living room is at the far end of the corridor so I should be safe—unless Al decides to get up from the sofa that is.

Every step feels like an eternity, and I keep stopping to listen for any sign of movement from him. I reach up and carefully lift the hoody hanging on the coat rack, using it to muffle any noise as Ireach for the latch. Opening it is the easy part—it’s almost silent. But closing it from the other side is tricky; the snap of the latch would definitely give me away.

I grab one of his loafers, holding it in the same hand as the hoody before twisting the latch slowly, making sure the click is so faint that it gets swallowed by the noise from the TV.

Despite me wanting to fling the door wide and run for safety, I only open it a crack, slide out, and place the shoe carefully on the floor between the door and the frame. If there’s a draft the door will just thud softly against the shoe rather than slamming shut.

I head down the stairs. Our flat is on the first floor so it doesn’t take me long to get to the entrance to the building. Before I slip out into the darkness I pull the hoody over my head. I don’t have my car keys with me so I’ll have to walk but it shouldn’t take me more than thirty minutes to get to Matt’s house.

His is the only place I can think of going where I’d feel safe. I need just somewhere to hide for a night so I can decide what to do next. I have nothing with me. No money, no bank cards, no phone. I can’t just run off into the sunset, I need to be practical here.

As I rush down the street I pull the hood over my head to try to hide my face a little. I don’t want to know what I look like.

It won’t take Al long to realise something isn’t right when I don’t come back from the shower. Panic rises in me and I’m starting to feel sick. That thought alone drains all my energy and I consider turning back.

No. Not this time. Get to Matt. GET TO MATT!

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