Page 64 of Collateral Damage

“Noooo. Turn it on. See if she boots up.” The palm of my hand hits my forehead, contemplating my IQ right now. Math was my thing. Bikes? Not so much. She ushers me to mount the bike, and I can barely fit my little ass on it, giving me a hand as she holds my waist to help me up, hooking my leg over the seat.

“You see this lever right here? Squeeze it for me.” I reach for the handle, just about grabbing it, and she closes my fingers around the lever, holding her hand in place to keep it secure.“That little switch in front of you. Turn it clockwise.”

My nerves are ecstatic and I don't know why. I’ve never been on a bike before. I turn the key, anticipating what it will do but it does nothing.

“You ready?” Excitement is dripping off my face, giggling like a little girl as she squeezes my hand tightly and jacks what looks like a lever by my foot, making the whole bike wobble. Her free hand sits on my lower back to secure me in the seat. She does it a few times and nothing happens, using sheer strength to give it power and suddenly the entire garage rattles.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD. YOU DID IT!” Vibrations ring through my body, and it’s so loud I can’t hear myself think but this is so exciting, my hands flail around trying to contain my joy, waving a high five for her little victory and her smile makes my tummy flutter every time. She grabs my hips to lift me back off the seat onto solid ground, pressed up against the side of the bike and she makes me lose all ability to think when we are this close.

“I think that calls for a beer.” I lose all sense of reality as she peers down at me through her abnormally long lashes that I’ve never noticed before, gazing at them for far too long when I realise the disgustingly gorgeous smile on her face. She pulls away from me and I let out a breath I was holding, watching her walk into the kitchen but I take a moment to admire her garage properly now that I am not sneaking around. My fingers trace the wooden bench smothered in tools and dust, catching the doors in the corner of my eye. Her office and…the door I couldn't get into. I stand there for a moment staring at it with curiosity, finding myself moving closer to it like it's speaking to me.

“You coming?”I hear her talk but don't register her words, closing the gap between me and this little secret.

“Alora.”

Her voice makes me jump as she swings round the garage door and it was almost snappy, pulling me out of my trance.There is a reason it is locked. And by the irritation lacing my name she doesn't want me near it.

“Yeah! Sorry. Coming.” I follow her out. I wonder if she even knew it was me who left this door open when I broke in. As far as I know she said she thinks she forgot to lock it. My hand runs the seam of the door, looking at the locked one once more before heading back into the house closing it behind me.

C H A P T E R 38

MY COLOUR

Puppeteer

I’ll need to keep an eye on her. I don't mind her roaming the house but she needs to stay away from that door. I'm in two minds about warning her but If I warn her she will take that as an invitation to snoop further. We proved that.

“That door. Where does it go?”Well, there goes that idea.

“I will say this once. And only once.” I lock the garage door behind her, peering over my shoulder at her curious expression, hanging onto my words.“Stay away from it. Do I make myself clear?” She looks down at the floor like I'm telling her off. And I guess I am but she should know by now it's to protect her.

“You said no more secrets, Hays.” I stare at the ceiling, rolling my eyes in frustration.

“This is different. This has nothing to do with you.” Her throat bobs and I now hate being like this with her as my hands rub her shoulders deeply.“Just- trust me. OK? I promise you. This is to protect you.” Her eyes soften as I speak the wordpromiseand she drops her hostility.

Play - Sink or Swim - Artemas’

“Ok…” She nods with sincerity. She's put so much trust in me that I owe her this. My throat itches at her submission, letting her arms go and she smiles at me softly. She walks over to thesofa where she quickly changes the subject, tracing her fingers over the patchwork and holes in the stitching.

“We need a new sofa.” My face scrunches up in surprise.

“Do, wenow?”We? She's moving quickly. Not that I am against the idea.

“Well, If I'm going to be living here, don't I get a say? It's not exactly like I will be going anywhere anytime soon.” I'm smiling beneath the surface but I won't show her that.

“And what, pray tell, would you like?” She puts her legs up on the couch, cradling her head with her arms behind her neck looking right at home.

“Now you're spoiling me.”

And I'd do it.

“This place needs some much-needed TLC.” She states the obvious and I shake my head, staring around the room realising how I vowed this place would stay untouched. It's battered and ugly, but it was whatshewanted and I'd left it exactly how she did but I also never intended to end up in prison for six years, meaning this home rotted with the apparition of them inside it. This place is all I have left.But she's right.Things need attention and I've been so caught up in my lust for revenge that I didn't notice how dead this house is. It's a coffin for the life I lost but she makes me want to tend to it. Like putting flowers on a tombstone to give it colour.

Things that I wouldn't have thought twice about until meeting myLittle Colour.

“A few coats of paint. Some plants?” My amusement finally slips, leaning against the corner of the sofa until I'm practically sitting on it, peering down my nose at her.

“I thinkshe'dlike that.” At first she looks surprised but then her eyes relax, almost relieved that I spoke about my mother as if she's still with us. I know she wants to learn who I am and dig deep underneath my pain. Make mefeel. And it's working.But she knows that too, and that's the problem. She's like ivy, crawling her way inside my walls.These walls. This house. My prison.Weaving her way inside my heart with her poison.

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