Chapter 10
1379 Words
Damien
By Saturday morning, my father had received three accounts of the fight.
Apparently, I’d started it because I was drunk, because Callan had looked at Hannah, and because I was Damien Cross and somebody had left me unattended.
He put his phone on the kitchen table.
“Sit down.”
I opened the fridge.
“Morning to you too.”
“Now.”
Mum quietly took her coffee into the garden.
That was never promising.
I shut the fridge and sat opposite him.
Dad looked at my knuckles.
“Do they need treating?”
“No.”
“Good. Then explain.”
⸻
I told him.
Not about Hannah on the bench. That belonged to me, and I wasn’t handing it over for examination.
I told him about Justin coming to get me. Callan showing his phone to two boys. The girl upstairs who hadn’t known he was filming.
Dad’s expression changed before I finished.
“Where’s the phone?”
“Justin took it.”
“Was the recording sent to anyone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who was she?”
I stared at him.
“You can ask Justin.”
“I’m asking you.”
“She’s already had enough people discussing her.”
Dad leaned forward.
“I need to make sure she’s safe.”
For a moment, I felt stupid.
I hated that feeling enough to cover it badly.
“Then try leading with that.”
His jaw tightened.
He picked up his phone, sent a message, and set it down again.
“Justin and his father are handling the recording?”
“Yeah.”
“And you decided your part was to break Callan’s face.”
“He was laughing.”
“That must have been unbearable.”
The quietness of his voice made me look up.
Dad watched me.
“You had him away from the girl. Justin had the phone. What did hitting him accomplish?”
I remembered the sound of my fist connecting.
How good it had felt.
Then Hannah standing beside the steps.
I looked away.
Dad noticed.
Of course he noticed.
⸻
“You’ll report to the captain this afternoon,” he said. “Until we establish everything that happened, you’re off independent patrol.”
I laughed.
“Independent patrol. That thing you keep telling me I’m not ready for.”
“You accompany experienced warriors.”
“Then say that.”
“Must every sentence become an argument?”
“Depends on the sentence.”
He stood.
I stayed seated, refusing to be the first to leave.
Then he said, “Hannah’s father called.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did he want?”
“To know whether his daughter was safe around you.”
I looked at the scratches across the table.
“And?”
“I told him you’ve never hurt a girl.”
It should have felt like a defense.
Instead, I heard what he hadn’t said.
Dad rested his hand on the chair.
“Don’t make that the only thing anybody can say for you.”
⸻
Justin arrived an hour later.
I was in the garage, taking apart something that didn’t need taking apart.
He sat on the workbench.
“My father knows.”
“Mine too.”
“The girl’s with her sister. Callan’s parents are coming to collect him. Dad’s speaking to everyone who saw the recording.”
I nodded.
Justin watched my hands.
“You could’ve broken his jaw.”
“I didn’t.”
“You tried.”
I set down the wrench.
“What would you like me to say?”
“Something that suggests you’re listening.”
“I listened last night.”
“No. Last night, I told you to stop, and you nearly dragged me across Leah’s driveway.”
That shut me up.
He looked tired.
I hadn’t noticed until then.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
Justin nodded once.
Then he reached inside his jacket and threw something at me.
I caught it.
My phone charger.
“You left it at Leah’s.”
“Thanks.”
“Also, her mother would like to know who broke the flowerpot.”
“Callan.”
“Convenient.”
“True.”
Justin almost smiled.
Then his gaze sharpened.
“How’s Hannah?”
I looked back at the engine.
“She answered.”
“Good.”
“Didn’t say that.”
“No,” he replied. “You didn’t.”
⸻
At eleven, Hannah sent a message.
Are you home?
I wiped my hands.
Depends who’s asking.
The girl you owe an explanation without an audience.
I stared at the screen.
Then typed:
Front gate.
I went out before she could change her mind.
She arrived five minutes later, carrying a paper bag from the bakery. Jeans, trainers, hair tied back. No black top. No earrings catching the light while she looked up at me.
I remembered anyway.
She stopped outside the gate.
“Morning.”
“You bringing provisions for the condemned?”
“These are for Mum.”
“Cruel.”
Her eyes dropped to my mouth, then my hand.
I curled my fingers.
“You came to inspect the damage?”
“I came because I wanted to.”
That left me without a useful answer.
⸻
We walked along the pavement.
I reached for my cigarettes, then left them alone. Not because Hannah was there.
Because I knew exactly how that conversation would go, and I was tired.
“Did you tell your parents?” she asked.
“About Callan? Yeah.”
“Mine too. Not her name. I don’t know it.”
“Good.”
She glanced at me.
“I wasn’t going to go looking.”
“Didn’t say you were.”
A few steps passed.
Then she stopped.
I turned.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Answering as though I’m accusing you.”
I looked down the road.
She waited.
Finally, I said, “Popular activity this morning.”
“I’m not everyone else.”
“No.”
That came out more honestly than I intended.
Her expression softened.
It made things worse.
⸻
“Dad thinks I should stay away from you,” she said.
“Shocking.”
“He was already worried before the fight.”
“Because your mate might arrive and find me corrupting you?”
Her cheeks colored.
I regretted the words.
Not enough to retrieve them before she answered.
“Because he thinks I’ll get hurt.”
I looked at her.
She held my gaze.
For once, I couldn’t pretend she meant falling off a bank.
“I haven’t promised you anything, Hannah.”
“I know.”
“And you’re still waiting.”
Her fingers tightened around the bakery bag.
“I know that too.”
Neither of us moved.
I wanted to kiss her.
I wanted to ask whether Aaron had made her laugh more than I had.
I wanted her to stop looking at me as though there might be something worth finding beneath everything I kept doing wrong.
Instead, I said, “You should go home.”
Her face closed.
For a second, I thought she would.
Then she nodded toward my house.
“Is that what you want?”
Dad was inside. The captain was expecting me. Somewhere in the pack, people were probably still discussing what I’d done.
Saying yes would have been easy.
I looked back at her.
“No.”
Her shoulders loosened.
“Then stop making my decisions.”
⸻
We reached the next junction before I noticed where we were going.
“Your house is the other way.”
“I need to take these to the clinic. Mum forgot her lunch.”
I looked at the bag.
“Thought they were pastries.”
“They are.”
“Medical necessity?”
“Extremely.”
I smiled.
She saw it, and her own smile appeared cautiously.
At the clinic gate, she shifted the bag into one hand.
The other brushed mine.
Then stayed.
People passed on the pavement.
One woman looked directly at our hands.
Hannah noticed.
She didn’t let go.
I looked at her, and for the first time that morning, I had something to lose that punishment couldn’t explain.
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