Page 42 of The Silencer

“Did they hurt you?”he asks quietly as he holds me.

I shake my head.“No.Thankfully, Lisa got there in time,” I say, my voice filled with shame and hurt.

“Please,” he says, his voice filled with pain, “don’t get this drunk again.”

I nod.“I won’t,” I assure him.I can’t do it again.Today was the shock I needed to tell me how dangerous it is to drink and not care about what happens.I know better.I need a better way of dealing with things.

“Clodagh,” he says thickly.“Be safe,” he tells me as he places me into the car.“I’ll be watching.”

I swallow hard.“Emmanuel,” I whisper.“I’m sorry for what I said to you.It wasn’t your fault.”

I know that now.Hell, I think I’ve always known that.I just needed someone to blame.

His finger traces my jawline.“Be safe,” he whispers once again, and this time closes the car door behind him, leaving me in the darkness all alone.

What the hell am I going to do?I need help and I have no idea how to get it.I’m drowning.I don’t know how to stop this toxic cycle I’ve gotten myself into.If I don’t stop it soon, I could end up dead, or worse, I could be the reason Lisa gets hurt.

No more.I can’t do it again.

I need help.A lot of help.

* * *

One week later

It’s colder than it looks.I tug my sleeves over my hands and shove them into my jacket pockets as I walk.Tammy told me not to stay out too long.I told her I was just going to the library.That wasn’t a lie, technically.I just didn’t want to go home yet.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it.I don’t want to talk to anyone.I don’t want to answer questions I haven’t figured out yet.I’m still reeling from the party, but I’ve been having a lot of sessions with my therapist.

My boots scuff the pavement.The town’s quiet.Too quiet.It’s that in-between time where school’s done but the shops haven’t really filled up yet.

I cross the street, glance left, then right?—

I stop.

There’s a figure across the road.Standing still.Watching me.

At first my chest tightens, just for a second, like my body hasn’t decided yet if I’m in danger.

Then I realise who it is.

Emmanuel.

He’s standing half-shadowed near the bus shelter.Hoodie pulled up, hands in his pockets.He doesn’t move.Doesn’t wave.He just looks at me.

I stare back, frozen.My heart’s hammering and I don’t know why.Maybe it’s the way he’s not doing anything.Not saying anything.Just watching.Like he’s making sure I’m okay.

He gives me the smallest nod.

Then he turns and walks away.

No smile.No smirk.Nothing like him.

Nothing like his father.

I stay where I am.I don’t call after him.I don’t cross the road.

I just stand there, the cold finally starting to settle in my bones.

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