Page 20 of No Safe Place

Wednesday | Evening

Lily

Fuck him.

She jammed a pair of trainers on her feet. She’d had enough.

He’s bad news, Lil. He’ll drag you down. He’s not your problem.

Lily heard it from all angles. Scott. Her friends, the ones who still spoke to her. Even her workmates.

I think you like it , Scott said once. Their first fight. You like that everyone hates him, and you like being treated like shit. You love being a fucking martyr.

She hunted around in her tote bag for Scott’s key. Thank God he’d given it to her – it had to be there somewhere. She knocked an old lamp off the side, heard it crack, and left it there.

Lily sometimes tried to imagine being Callum. Knowing what people thought of him.

Through the fog of the alcohol she knew, for a fact, that Callum would never change. It wasn’t because he was worrying about his benefits; it wasn’t his OCD. Alcohol dredged up the darkness and the spite and the bile he carried around. His contempt for her.

She found the key. The night was probably still warm; she wouldn’t need a jacket.

‘Lil?’ he called.

She shouldn’t turn around. She should walk straight out the door and slam it.

Hating herself, and hating him, she went back to the dining room.

Callum hadn’t moved. He had his feet up on the table, an unlit cigarette between his lips.

‘What?’ Lily snapped, the key hot in her fist.

Callum’s jaw was set, his eyes unfocused. ‘I think it’s time you moved out.’