Page 28 of All the Forbidden Things

I call Carmen.

“H-Hello, Mrs Bosworth—”

“Billie!” she shouts, interrupting me, “Has Michael come home?”

“He’s home and trying to smash down the door to my apartment.”

Even as I speak, I can hear him banging on my door.

“Open the fucking door right now, Billie!”

“Is that him shouting?”

“Yeah, what do I do? He’s really drunk and pissed off.” My voice trembles, which pisses me off, and I look around for something I might be able to use as a weapon.

“Where are the kids? I’m on my way.”

“The kids are safe with me. I’m scared, Carmen. I’ve never seen him this drunk or angry. Should I call the police?”

“No! No. I’m about ten minutes away. Just stay put.”

Her response pisses me off as much as her husband is, but I’m silent for a few beats as I listen to Michael hammer at my door. “I’m sorry, Carmen, but if he doesn’t stop this in the next few minutes, then I’m calling for help—”

“Billie, is that my mom, what’s happening?” I turn around to see Oliver sitting up in my bed, rubbing at his eyes.

“Billie, no, please just wait—”

I hang up.

Michael Bosworth is acting like a deranged psycho and needs to fuck off. All Carmen is worried about is the bad press they’ll receive if the story gets out, not the safety of her children or me. Well, fuck that.

“Stay put, Bud. Mum’s on her way home, and I just need to go talk to your dad.” I kiss the top of his head and leave the room, again closing the door behind me.

“They’re my fucking kids. Open this door, Billie, else I swear to God I will blow it off its hinges.”

Knowing there are guns in the house has me typing 9-1-1 into my phone. I don’t hit call, but I want the number good to go if I need it.

“You need to calm down, Michael, your kids are in here safe, but they’re terrified by all your shouting and banging about.”

“Well, open the fucking door then.”

“That’s not gonna happen, and if you don’t stop, I’m gonna call the police.”

“This ismyhouse, they aremykids, I can do whatever the fuckIlike. Nowopenthis fucking door. Right. Fucking. Now,” he roars.

The silence that follows is deafening. Holding my breath, I listen for any noise that might give me a clue as to what he’s now doing.

I hear him swear as he seems to move away from my door and along the hallway back into the main house. I let out my long-held shaky breath, as a bead of sweat travels down my spine. My skin is covered in goosebumps and a light sheen of sweat. I release the grip my hand has around my phone and stare down at the 9-1-1 I’ve entered on the keypad. If he comes back before Carmen gets home, I’m calling the police, fuck the consequences.

Sliding down to the floor, I sit on my bum, still listening for any sound coming from the hallway. I blow out a breath in an attempt at shifting my hair off my face. It doesn’t work and, when I use my fingers, I realise my face is wet with not just sweat but also tears.

A surge of anger rises up from my toes. That arsehole has me so frightened I’m crying in fear without even realising it. I brush them away with the back of my hand as the adrenalin that’s been coursing through me makes me shake, and that’s when my front door is forced open so hard it hits the wall behind it. Footsteps begin to stomp along the hallway towards me just as Oliver appears in my bedroom doorway, the sight of him finally snapping me into action.

“Get back in the bedroom,” I shout at Ollie at the same time as I hit the green call button on my phone.

He turns, and I put the phone to my ear as I move towards him and the relative safety of my bedroom.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a man's voice asks.