Page 101 of The Lucky Winners

Before he can react, a fist slams into the back of his skull.

The impact is brutal. His body jerks forward, his grip slackening. The claw hammer slips from his fingers.

He staggers once. Twice. Then he crumples, face first, on to the floor.

Silence crashes into the room, thick and heavy.

She sucks in a shuddering breath, her whole body trembling. She looks up.

And sees who’s saved her.

67

Merri

‘Simon!’ My breath catches as I press my hands to the gash on Dev’s head.

The blood – so much of it – feels slick between my fingers. He’s unconscious, his breathing shallow, and a dark tide of fear swells in my chest. I need to keep him with me. Silently, I say a prayer.Please, God, keep him safe.

Simon is on the phone, calling for help. I hear the words ‘ambulance’ and ‘head injury’, but my focus stays on Dev. His skin is so pale and stark against the deep red pooling beneath him. I reach for a cushion, sliding it under his head with trembling hands. His pulse is faint but steady. I press the edge of my sleeve against his temple, trying to staunch the bleeding.

‘Dev?’ My voice wobbles. His eyelids flutter, but he doesn’t come round.

Simon kneels beside me, shoving his phone back into his pocket. ‘They’re on their way, Merri. Stay with him. I need to deal with this crazy guy. Who the hell is he, anyway?’

Webb.My stomach clenches. He’s still here. Still a threat.

Simon moves swiftly, grabbing whatever he can to bind Webb’s wrists – curtain ties, maybe. Webb groans, stirring. Simon wrenches his arms behind his back with more force than necessary.

I press my fingers on Dev’s cheek. His skin is clammy. I stroke his hair back, whispering, ‘It’s OK. Help is coming.’

I steal a glance at Simon. His shoulders are rigid, his hands clenched. I sense something else too. ‘Thank you for being here. I think he would have … It would have been too late for Dev and probably me too.’

I shift my weight, adjusting the pressure on Dev’s wound. He makes a faint sound, barely a whimper, and my heart clenches.

‘Tilda’s been asking questions about me,’ I say quietly. ‘She made several trips to Nottingham to befriend someone I knew there. All so she could try to find out about me.’

Simon nods. ‘Yeah. We’ve argued about it. She was convinced from the start that something was going on between you and me until she suddenly switched her suspicions. She won’t let it go.’ He hesitates, then adds, ‘She’s been making these comments … about you keeping secrets. About telling Dev the truth. But she never says what she means. She’s had several trips up to the north-east to see her sister, which is unusual. Sounds like that might’ve been a cover for going to Nottingham.’

‘You don’t sound too worried about her lying to you,’ I remark.

He shrugs. ‘I’ve known her get obsessed with people before. It’s almost like a hobby to her until she gets fed up and moves on.’

Webb stirs, testing his bindings. Simon grips his shoulder and shoves him back down, voice low and furious. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

The air feels tight, too thick to breathe. My mind races, tangled in Tilda’s lies, Simon’s confessions, the fear that presses against my ribs, like a vice.

Outside, a wail of sirens cuts through the house. Relief slams into me, almost buckling my knees.

Simon exhales heavily. ‘Finally.’

I squeeze Dev’s hand and his fingers twitch, just barely. Simon rushes to open the door. I tell myself everything will be OK. Dev and I are strong enough to get through anything.

I pray that’s the truth.

68

A Day Later