Page 10

Olivia stood at the sink as Logan locked the front door.

She removed the tea towel from her hands and ran them under the tap. The cool water soothed the burns immediately, but right now she didn’t know which pain to focus on first, her hands or her heart.

Deep down, a part of her had known that James was dead, even though Logan had tried to convince her he’d just upped and left her for someone else.

She’d never believed that. They had clicked the minute they’d met. To some it had seemed a little soon after the loss of her husband, Logan’s father, but she had known Joe’s passing was coming, had been allowed to prepare for it. Following the grief, self-preservation had kicked in. She hadn’t been looking for love, but she had wanted to laugh again, to dance, to go out to dinner with someone who wasn’t slipping away day by day. She and Joe had made the most of those last few months, but every smile, laugh or moment of intimacy had been grasped under the shadow of death.

Just four months after his death she’d met James, a confirmed bachelor who loved working for himself as an odd-job man and spent his free time fishing or travelling and sometimes both.

Despite his confirmed singledom, something had been growing between them. Their nights out had been increasing, and there had been more than a few occasions of staying over at each other’s homes.

The only negative had been Logan, who had taken an instant dislike to James.

Standing here now, it was hard to remember the time when it really had felt that simple and Logan’s animosity had just seemed like an obstacle, but oh, how her life had changed in the two years since James had disappeared.

Hot, angry tears burned in her throat, but she knew better than to let them out.

Had James been depressed and she hadn’t known it? But why would he have shared that with Logan when they could barely stand the sight of each other?

Instinctively, she felt her son’s presence somewhere behind her. Her body tensed.

‘Well done, Mom. You behaved impeccably.’

She relaxed only slightly as he closed the distance between them. She felt the heat of his body even though they weren’t touching. Despite her best efforts, her knees began to tremble.

‘But haven’t you forgotten something?’ he asked, as though talking to a child.

‘N-N-No,’ she said, turning to face him.

He’d already said she’d behaved well. She had done nothing to raise suspicion.

He held out his hand. ‘Your phone. You know you’re not allowed to have it.’

‘Logan, let me?—’

The punch to her stomach forced her back against the sink. The same sink where Logan had held her hands under the hot tap just an hour earlier. Nausea rose inside her.

‘Don’t make me ask again,’ he said, opening his palm, flexing his fingers and then making another fist.

Experience told her that the next blow would be even worse.

Shame warmed her cheeks as she handed him the phone.