Page 79 of Perfect

Dad pulled the Land Rover into the yard, spraying pebbles everywhere and he wasn’t alone. Rachel, Nigel and Clive were with him. The men jumped from the vehicle and descended, dragging Connor away by the arms as he struggled to free himself. Desperate to carry on attacking the older man. Obviously wanting to finish the job.

His father remained on the ground but was still moving, attempting to get to his knees.

After Connor was calmer, Nigel released him and he doubled over, struggling with his breathing. Clive and Nigel swung towards Carter.

“You’re trespassing mate,” Nigel said aggressively as he grabbed him by the hair drawing Carter’s head back. “Your lad proper fucked you up I’d say.”

Carter’s reply bubbled from his throat and was inaudible.

He was broken.

It was over, the nightmare wasactuallyover and I sank to my knees again, tears streaming down my face as relief forced a bubble of hysterical laughter from my lips.

Rachel ran from the vehicle towards her son, her face sheet white in the dark as she threw her arms around him. I felt a twinge of sadness that I couldn’t do the same and could only watch as she sobbed heavily.

I heard him whisper my name and my heart leaped in my chest. I stood, staggering towards them.

“Rachel turned to look at me, her eyes running over my swaying limbs. “She’s here, she’s fine.” She reassured him through sobs.

“Are you OK Harlow, did he hurt you,” Dad began appearing at my side, running his hands over my body, searching for any possible sign of injury.

I cleared my gravelly throat. “No, I’m fine, honestly,” my voice was husky from the damage Carter had probably caused to my vocal cords, but I didn’t care, all could think about was Connor.

Dad’s look of relief was palpable and he dragged me into his arms. I was determined not to lose it at that point but it was difficult. Shock forced my body to shake violently.

After holding me for a while until I was calmer, Dad handed me my iPhone which I’d totally forgotten about. He then told me to go into the house whilst the guys sorted Carter. The police were on their way.

I watched as my father and the two farm hands started to drag the hideous excuse for a man into the barn. Now I knew what real hatred felt like. Such a cruel horrible person and I wanted to run to him and kick him like he had his son. I turned away refocusing my attention on Connor.

Rachel was now checking his body, still crying and Connor’s eyes met mine over her shoulder. He looked beaten, and not just physically, like that fire inside him had burned out and my heart squeezed. How I wanted to put my arms around him and hold him close, support him in some way but I couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do,” I croaked. My eyes were puffy and I felt emotionally exhausted.

“Please go and put the kettle on love, I think we all need something sweet,” Dad said calmly.

The man I had fallen for was on the ground beaten and raw and I had been relegated to tea maker; I had never felt so useless in my entire life.

I walked slowly into the house, feeling thoroughly confused and dazed by what I’d just experienced.

Eventually, the police arrived and took Carter away. I was watching from the window of Dad’s study. Rachel and Connor were safely in the house and Dad had helped Connor upstairs to bed until the Doctor arrived. Both Rachel and my dad had suggested an ambulance, but Connor wouldn’t have it. I lurked around in the background, doing anything I was asked, and tried to be as helpful as possible.

Once the chaos had calmed, I sat in my room, listening to whispered voices before clearly hearing Rachel leave Connor’s room and I decided it was my moment. He’d be sleeping no doubt, but Ihadto see him. The Doctor had left around an hour ago and had reported that luckily nothing seemed broken, but that Connor would need to go for a scan to check for possible cracked ribs.

It was almost one in the morning but I didn’t care. I tiptoed lightly down the corridor, tugging at the lapels of my robe to secure it further against my body. I had removed my dirty clothes but hadn’t showered or washed. The landing was freezing.

Connor’s door was slightly ajar and I peered inside. He was propped up in bed, the covers pulled up to his waist and he appeared to be sleeping. Relief jetted into me as he didn’t look like the bloody pulp I’d envisioned. Rachel had obviously cleaned up his face, one eye was swollen and badly bruised and there was the split lip but that was about it. As far as external injuries were concerned anyway. If his ribswerecracked, the pain would surely be horrendous. My heart sped up.

I pushed the door closed gently and quietly entered the room, thinking I would stay for a few minutes and then speak to him in the morning, I didn’t want to wake him.

In his weakened condition, he actually looked quite human, vulnerable almost. But appearances were deceptive weren’t’ they?

Connor’s breathing was shallow and I watched his T shirted chest slowly rise and fall as I approached the bed, stumbling slightly as I tripped over a gym bag on the floor. Seeing him like this was almost enough to break me.

“You’d make a lousy thief,” Connor’s voice startled me, making my heart race.

“Shit,” I cried, clutching at my chest, “I thought you were sleeping.”

He attempted to smirk and opened his eyes; one eye fully, the more battered eye slightly.

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