Page 31

“Terrorising?” I laughed, sounding almost hysterical.

“They hunted me down, mother! They almost fucking killed me.” I pulled the sleeve up my arm to reveal the scars I had there.

“They sliced me open and left me on the fucking pavement to die. And you have the nerve to say I terrorised them? You’re fucking mad. ”

“So what is it this time, Rachel?” my mother said, ignoring my scars, as she always did, and changed the topic. “What drug lord do you owe money to? Whose precious child have you murdered?”

“I’ve been back to England plenty of times.

And how many times did I get in trouble?

I’ll answer for you, once. Once! And I didn’t go looking for trouble, it found me.

I could have answered the police’s questions when I was on my deathbed, and they wanted to know who my parents were.

I could have made the hospital ring you.

But I didn’t. I left you in fucking peace and quiet, despite desperately needing someone, anyone, to be by my side.

Obviously Alex’s family were after revenge, which is exactly why I never came back here with my drama! ”

“Until now, obviously.”

“Yes! Until now! Do you know how fucking embarrassing it was to have my employees question why no one visited me in the hospital? Do you think it was fucking easy to lie? To say that it was a random attack? That I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I was jumped by thugs? They knew my parents weren’t dead.

Don’t you think they questioned why you never bothered showing up at the hospital? ”

“You could have told them the truth,” she said with a sniff.

“And what would that have achieved? I didn’t want to stick around lest Alex’s family came and finished what they started! I said the easiest thing that would allow me to return to America as soon as possible.”

“Well, Alex’s family is no longer around here themselves. They got into more trouble than they could handle. Last I heard, they had moved to London and were hiding with relatives. So you can leave whenever you’re ready. There will be no drama for you to cause.”

“How can you be so cold?” I demanded. “I am your daughter. How can you just turn your back on me so completely?”

“It’s easy when your daughter is the reason you sleep alone every night. When your daughter is the reason you were friendless for years, at a time when you needed friends the most. When your daughter is the reason—”

“I won’t take the blame for those stuck-up bitches turning their back on you.”

“That’s not surprising. You don’t take the blame for anything.”

“Why should I? I have my dad ready to jump to my defence and take all the blame for himself. I’m feeling pretty damn good over here.”

Too far.

My mother’s hand whipped through the air and slapped me across the face with such force I felt blood fly from my mouth and land on the table at the side of us.

“That,” I said through ground teeth, spitting the rest of the blood onto her expensive carpet. “Is the only time you get to lay your hands on me without consequence. Do it again, and—”

“Do you smell that?” My mother interrupted.

“Aren’t you too old for ‘it smells like bullshit’ jokes?”

“I’m being serious, Rachel. Don’t you smell that? It smells like… oh, God!” My mother’s eyes went wide. “Is that smoke?”

I followed her gaze and saw that the front room was completely engulfed in thick, black smoke that was headed towards us. How had we been so caught up in our argument that we hadn’t smelled it until now?

My head snapped around, looking out the windows, and saw the fire surrounding the house as the wooden fence flickered in the flames.

And that’s when my stomach dropped.

Because when I listened, I heard the laughs and the whoops as the flames got higher. I heard the roaring of the bikes as they teared up and down the garden. I smelled the petrol they poured on the ground.

The windows shattered as they threw rocks at them, followed by petrol covered pieces of material.

The loudest crash came from the front room, and I ran forward, clutching at the walls as I struggled to breathe in the thick smoke.

I saw the small bead of light raise and squinted, a strangled scream getting stuck in my throat as I saw him.

Dante was stood in the frame of the shattered window, casually smoking.

I was captured under his gaze as raised the cigarette to his lips and grinned at me, breathing in deeply.

My body froze. He looked fucking terrifying, and he wasn’t even doing anything.

He didn’t move, other than to bring the cigarette to his lips.

He kept his gaze on me, and I’m woman enough to admit it scared the shit out of me.

With a small flick of his wrist and a tight, evil grin, the cigarette left his grip and landed on my mother’s carpet with the loudest roar as the flame met the petrol, and the room was engulfed in seconds.

“Get down!” I yelled, running back to my mother and tackled her around the waist. The dumb bitch had been using her corded phone to ring for help. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Are you fucking thick woman?! You get down in a fire! Smoke fucking rises. You don’t stand waiting to meet it!”

“Rachel,” my mother sobbed, and for a moment, just a moment, my heart broke for her. “What have you done this time? What evil have you brought into my home?”