Page 37

Jack

The dogs stared at me, desperate for the walk of the day I’d been unable to schedule so far.

Dickens’ top lip was curled under, showing his teeth.

Darwin’s chin rested on my knee, puppy-dog eyes glaring up at me as he softly whined.

Both sets of triangular ears were perked up, begging for their exercise.

Willow had her first real session with Mack today, a two hour session, she was pumped. She’d made sure to have the best breakfast and put her hair in two plaits. She looked perfect, my heart tugged at her enthusiasm.

Darwin shifted with his front paws on the sofa, nose sniffing over my face in search of a problem to fix and crawled into my lap and rested his head and paws on my shoulders like the baby he was.

I stroked his silky fur, and he shifted until his face was resting on my chest, paws curled, and sad eyes peering up at me showing me the whites of his eyes.

I glanced at Dickens, who had placed his head on my knee and offered the same sad eyes as his brother.

After a few minutes of silence, the front door opened, jolting us all from the moment. The dogs scattered to the new arrival. I frowned, confused. Frannie wasn’t due to stay and Willow wasn’t due back for at least an hour.

Willow stood at the door, her skin pale, and a blank stare on her face.

Her hair was dishevelled, with strands of hair sticking out of the plaits.

Behind her, a tall, muscular man with blonde hair, and a full beard to match stood.

As he shut the door, he awkwardly nodded with a polite smile. The dogs sniffed him curiously.

Willow moved silently up the stairs, her coat, and shoes still in place. We all watched stunned, the dogs included.

Dickens whined, stepping up after her, but familiar with the no-dogs-upstairs-rule they stopped, waiting for permission. I uttered the approval they both needed, and they were up the stairs without a second glance until it was just me and a stranger, who I assumed was Mack.

“I’m Mack, Mack Flint.”

I turned from the stairs to find an outstretched hand. I shook it and replied.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” He smiled bashfully. “Why don’t you come through. ”

I directed him through to the kitchen, offering a drink as he shed his coat and hat. He suggested a cup of tea, but I reckoned the situation called for something stronger. We sat by the fire, nursing a double whisky each, wincing as the backs of our throats burned.

“What on earth happened today?” I asked, thoroughly confused at the change in Willow. Making himself comfortable, Mack blew out a heavy breath, looking into the glass.

“Cain got hold of her number and called.”

My eyes snapped to his. “How the fuck did that happen?”

“I’ve no idea, there wasn’t exactly time to figure that out. She took a call and crumbled to the floor. She’s terrified,” he spoke bleakly.

I shook my head in disbelief. This shit was relentless.

“I’m assuming Willow told you everything?” I checked before the conversation progressed.

He nodded as he looked down into the amber liquid.

“She did. I wish I could say it’s the worst I’ve heard, but I work in an industry full of violence and psyche-bending behaviour, so it isn’t even close.

” I flinched at the thought of Willow experiencing more than she already had.

“ But , she’s by far my favourite client, and I have an overwhelming need to help her get through this. ”

After a short silence, I responded.

“Thank you for helping her. I can tell from the way she talks about you that you’re good for her. She needs more people around her to prove there’s life after this . ”

“She does. We’ll get there.” He took another sip, and I refilled the glass. “Something tells me, you have the same overwhelming need as I do, Jack. You want to be there through this, beyond this. Am I right?” He smirked and gave a pointed stare with a quirked brow.

Could everyone but Willow see through my perfectly manicured facade?

I coughed through an uncomfortable laugh, just as Mack collected his belongings.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Understood.” He smirked. He shifted as he pulled his phone from his back pocket. “Pop your number in, if there’s any concern with Willow, just shoot me a text and I’ll do my best to help – in or out of our sessions.”

I tapped my number in, and we sat in silence.

“I just want her to be happy again. She deserves so much better than this.”

“It’ll come. She’s got good people to help her through this. Speaking from experience, it’ll take time, but she’ll get there.” He watched me in silence. “I think you’re going to be the best thing to happen to her. Whether platonically or—”

“I hope so,” I interrupted before he could offer an alternative.

He shrugged his coat back on, and I stood, meeting his height and the smug look on his face. He watched me, waiting for my facade to drop, but this was a well-rehearsed cover-up Willow crush, there was no chance.

“Oh,” he stopped, reaching into his coat pocket, “here’s her phone. You might want to call the police so they can trace it. She wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind earlier.”

I took the phone from him, shoving it into my back pocket.

“Thanks Mack, I appreciate it. I’ll show you out.”

“No need. Just take care of our girl.” He smiled as he left the room, a soft thud of the front door followed.

Our girl sounded good. My girl sounded better.

I ventured up the stairs, pausing outside her bedroom.

The door was cracked open, revealing a room draped in darkness, finding Willow still clothed in her leggings, hoodie, and even coat and shoes, lying on the top of the bed.

She was curled in the foetal position. Squished between her arms were both parts of Angus.

Darwin lay on the floor by the bed, Dickens at the foot of the bed, head resting on her feet. It was only after a few moments of checking over her that I realised that shivers and shakes wracked her slight frame.

I gently removed her trainers. In turn, each leg curled up tighter into her ball. I moved around the bed to slip her coat off her arms, she shifted to help.

I shuffled onto the bed beside her. “Willow,” I whispered. “Please can I hold you?”

The sniffling continued, but I caught a gentle nod, and I heaved her and Angus into my arms, which only seemed to make her cries harder and louder.

My hands rubbed her back until her breathing evened out and I was sure she had fallen asleep.

Gently lifting her slender body, I pulled the duvet cover from beneath her, tucking her, me, and Angus under the thick bedding, overheating be damned.

How many knocks could one person take before all the light went out?