Twist Of Fate

Twenty One

CHLOE

The room swims before my eyes. The sound of the newsreader now reporting council budget cuts is far away, muffled by the thumping of my own heart and the whoosh of blood in my ears. My knees give way and I sink down onto the bed, my legs like jelly and no longer able to support my weight. The police have traced us to Totnes, which means they must know about the false iPhone trail. We didn't see the full news report, so we don't know how much else they know, but it is enough to send us both into a panic. It surely cannot be long before they figure out Harry isn't alone. CCTV from the leisure centre in Totnes will be enough to link him to me, and if they have a clear enough picture they will know he has cut his hair, which means he is even more likely to be recognised.

I glance over at Harry who has also sat down on his bed and is now staring blankly at the television, undoubtedly not taking in a word of what is being said.

"What do you want to do?" I ask fearfully. I don't have a plan for this. I don't have any answers, so if he is going to look to me to come up with a master plan he is going to be sadly disappointed.

"I want to fucking think, in peace and quiet."

"Sorry."

The word has barely left my lips when I snap my mouth shut, and he casts me a murderous glare but thankfully says nothing. Maybe the weight of the police on his trail is enough to occupy him temporarily. Every cloud, I suppose.

I point the remote at the television and switch it off, plunging the room into silence.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

I look up to see his teeth bared in fury, his hands balled into fists. I feel myself gulp in fear.

"You - you said you wanted peace and quiet," I answer, and it comes out barely below a wail.

"Yeah - peace and quiet from you, you stupid bitch! Not the fucking news! That's the only thing worth listening to, to give me some sort of clue about what the police know!"

"OK, I'm sorry! I'm sorry." 

A sob rising in my chest, I grab the remote again, jabbing frantically at the buttons to get the news back on, my hands shaking. By the time the picture fills the screen, the weathergirl is reporting sunshine and high temperatures for the next few days.

"I've fucking missed it now!" he thunders, standing up and kicking his bag of money across the floor in rage.

This is so unfair - the report about him had already finished and had moved on when I switched the TV off. But of course I don't argue the point, too terrified to stand up to him when he is behaving like this. I hang my head and avert my eyes, not even daring to look at him.

"You're a fucking liability!" he rages. "Sitting there acting like a fucking miserable puppy with that hangdog expression and wobbly lip. Fuck's sake!" He bangs his fist on the bed covers, and although the sound is muffled it still makes me jump and squeak in surprise, which only enrages him further. "Why are you trembling like a little coward?" he roars, getting up off his bed and walking over to me. He leans down on his hands, pushing his face into mine so his eyes are only inches from me. I can feel the heat from his skin, see the sweat gathering in his hairline, feel his breath on my cheeks. 

He is trying to intimidate me, I know, and it is working. I am absolutely terrified, not just of what he might do to hurt me, but from the rage emanating from him. I have never experienced anger like this from anyone else. I didn't know it could exist with such force and strength until I met Harry. It is times like this that I believe he could be capable of murder.