Page 102 of Pretty Mess

“We’re going to be late,” I prompt.

“Why didn’t you spend it? It was for you.”

“Because I didn’t need it,” I say, smiling at him.

I don’t admit that the thought of spending that money had made me feel dirty for the first time in my life. Dirty and small.

“You already pay me enough,” I explain. “And you brought me on this lovely break. I got to spend time with you, and that was amazing. I did buy you something, though.” I open my bag, thinking now is as good a time as any to give it to him. “But don’t worry. I took the money from my savings.” I pause. “Which you also gave me,” I say awkwardly. I grin at him. “The thought was there, though, right?” I pull a small box from my bag and hand it to him.

“This is for me?”

“It’s to say thank you for bringing me here. It’s not much. I didn’t go into many shops, but I found it in a little place by the Eiffel Tower.”

He opens the box, and the little silver object falls into his hand. “A sunflower,” he says nonplussed.

I feel my cheeks flush. “It’s not much, but it symbolises the pursuit of happiness and turning to the light, so I wanted you to have it.”

I don’t add that I hope it works because despite all his material trappings and success he strikes me as someone who is quietly unhappy, and I hate that for him with a passion. I want him to look to the light.

He looks up and scans my face. His eyes spark, becoming fierce with the kind of wildness I usually only see when he’s fucking me. “Thank you. I’ve never…”

When he doesn’t finish the sentence, I smile at him. “You’re very welcome. Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

I pause at the door. He’s still standing looking down at the sunflower, and I can’t read his expression. He looks poleaxed and almost concerned.

A shiver runs down my spine—a foreboding feeling. “Mac?” I say. “You alright?”

He looks up and smiles, the usual cool expression sliding back into place on his face. “Never better.”

I wonder why I don’t believe him.

thirteen

“I haven’t seen him, Wes.” Cath’s voice is strained, and I run my hand through my hair as I pace around the lounge. Outside the windows, the sun is setting, and the shadows in the park are growing long.

“Have you spoken to him?” I ask.

“No.”

“Me neither. He’s not answering his phone.”

“He’s not staying with Ben anymore.”

My stomach drops. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know. He just said that Tyler was currently staying in a bed and breakfast. He gave me the address. I asked what he’d done, but Ben wouldn’t say, so I reckon it’s something shitty.”

“Whendoesn’the do something shitty?” I take a deep breath, trying to will away the panic. “Shit. Cath, I thought he was okay if he was with Ben because he’d look out for him.”

“I know. My dad saw Tyler in the pub last week. He said he looked dreadful. I’m really worried.”

My stomach sinks, and I swallow hard. “Me too, babe. Me too.”

She hesitates. “Do you think Mr Jackson the bookie has got him?”

I consider that. “No, I don’t think so,” I finally say, hearing the hesitation in my voice. “We paid off the debt with the house, didn’t we?”

“The debt we know about.”