Page 86 of Restitution

Barry arranges for me to get escorted up, but I tell him I’ll drive up on my motorbike and whoever is shadowing me can follow behind. I doubt Bernadette will try anything. She knows if she targets me, I’ll make it worse for Archie.

She’ll be on alert, yet still smug that she has my dad.

Once everything’s arranged, I stand out on mybalcony with a joint. It’s dark out, cold. Winter is fast approaching, and it makes me think about Christmas, though it’s still a few months away.

Will I still be alive then, and if I am, will it be weird to buy Stacey a gift?

My eyes catch a drone flying by. Barry’s great idea – half the team don’t have a clue how to control them. I lean my elbows on the stone wall and glance over, seeing Stacey over at the pool house, talking to someone on the phone.

Her hand is waving around like she’s mad and trying to explain something. Maybe it’s her brother? Or Barry’s called her for something. She’s close with him now too.

She hangs up, and I pull back just as she glances in my direction.

I haven’t spoken to her at all today. She and Luciella stayed in the studio downstairs and tested out all the new aerial equipment. I stood outside the room for a little; I heard my sister crying then Stacey telling her to dance until the tears stopped.

The music played for hours.

I might have stared at a screen for hours watching Stacey stretch and work her way around a pole, twist herself in fabric dangling from the ceiling then do some bendy routine on an aerial hoop after my sister left.

Spending time together yesterday, even if it was only a little while, made me get my first night’s sleep without waking up soaked in sweat or on the bathroom floor, dazed and unsure about what the fuck’s going on.

I open Stacey’s contact and type fifteen messages before settling on one. It’s stupid, considering I just told her I wasn’t fit for a relationship or anything else, but she makes me feel calm,and being around her makes me forget all the shit in my head.

And I really do fucking love her.

I don’t want to confuse her, but I also don’t want to push her away. I’m at a crossroads, in all honesty. I want Stacey. I need her. But I’ll hurt her, both physically and mentally. What if I lose myself during sex and hallucinate? What if I shoot her in my sleep?

Maybe I can ask her to be my friend?

Me: Why aren’t you asleep?

The reply is rapid.

Freckles: Stalker.

Freckles: Kyle called me. Why are you awake?

I put the joint between my lips and use my two thumbs to reply.

Me: I need to head up to my apartment in Stirling. You game?

Fuck, I’m an idiot. An impulsive, idiotic idiot. What am I doing? She deserves way fucking better, and I’m dragging her along with my bullshit. Why would I ask her to come with me? Why? Fucking why?

Freckles: Are you sure? I don’t want you to force this.

Me: We can hang out, Stacey.

Freckles: When are you leaving?

Me: Now. Meet me in the garage. We’re taking the bike up.

Freckles: I’m having flashbacks, and I think I’d rather stub my pinkie toe than have a repeat, but thanks for the horrendous offer.

Me: Shitebag.

Freckles: I hate you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.

Once I pull on a thick hoodie and sweats, not bothering putting on my leathers, I stare at the material sitting on my dresser for far too long before giving in and fastening it around my mouth.