Page 54 of London's Calling: Part 1
It’s a plain white envelope with my name scribbled across the front in messy cursive.
“Hey, hey, what is this?” I demand, tapping the girl on the shoulder. “Where’d you get it?”
She turns her head, looking at me then the envelope in my hand and shrugs.
I grab her shoulder, spinning her to face me fully, and her friend steps forward. With one look, she backs off. “A shrug, huh. Great, that answers my first question, but I asked you where you got it?”
She shrugs again, and if I weren’t so desperate for an answer, I’d slap her. “Someone gave it and your description to me and told me to give it you. I don’t know anything else. So back off.”
“Girl or guy?” I ask, ignoring her snarky warning.
“A guy. He had his jacket collar flipped up and wore a cap, so I didn’t see his face. Are we fucking done now?”
I shoulder check her as I walk away. “Bitch!” I mutter and head for the exit, gripping the envelope tightly in my hand.
I burst out the door, catching the attention of Priest’s friend Brett.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks, stepping toward me.
“I’m fine, just needed some air.” I move away from him, and I’m thankful when he’s distracted by an underage girl in the queue.
I check around me, ensuring I’m alone, before tearing into the envelope. I already know it contains a USB, I can feel it, but I was hoping for a note of some sort. No such luck.
“What the?—”
“You good?”
“Jesus…Christ!” I cry, spinning around to find Brett behind me.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Yeah, really?” I tuck the USB in my pocket and step around him, heading back to the entrance. He lets me go, but I sense him watching me the whole way. I’m relieved to vanish among the crowd once inside, and I slowly make my way back to Fletch and the others.
I find Fletch dancing with a girl and tap him on the shoulder. When he stops, I receive a cold glare from the girl at his side, but he’s not bothered and turns to me.
I lean up to talk in his ear. “Hey, I have to go. Thanks for tonight.”
He curls an arm around me, keeping me close, and says, “What happened? Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just something I need to sort out. Catch you later.” He’s suspicious but doesn’t press me, letting me go.
Keen to avoid Brett for a third time, I find a back exit and hurry back to my car. Back home, I quickly change into something comfier and grab my laptop. I grab a beer, sensing I might need some Dutch courage, and sit on the sofa.
For several minutes I just stare at the screen. I know once I see this it can’t be undone, there’ll be no going back.
You don’t have to tell him.
But I do, I know that. To protect my mum and myself, I have to go through with this.
A reel of every moment with Mickey flashes through my mind; him taking care of me after my father hurt me, remembering my preference for Pad Thai, his ability to make me laugh and the sex… Fuck!
I stare at the USB in my hand and replace the images in my mind with those of my mum and what my father will do to her—what he’ll do to me—if I chicken out.
“I’m sorry, Mickey,” I whisper, blowing out a deep breath, then plug the USB into my laptop. The screen loads just as a crash comes from upstairs. I hesitate, then placing the laptop on the seat beside me, I get up and creep toward the stairs. As I take the first stair, someone croaks my name a second before there’s a thud, and my feet are moving instantly.
I see him before I reach the last stair. Mickey is on his knees, cradling his side and dripping blood on the beige carpet.
“Shit! Mickey, what happened?” I demand as I drop to the floor beside him.
