70
‘Kieran, stop!’ I choke helplessly, as I flail around on the bed and plead with him not to carry on caving Toby Sheridan’s head in. He pulled him off of me after the first impact, then carried on hitting him. The thuds are sickening, each one reverberating around my head.
Kieran straightens up and looks at me, his chest heaving with emotion and physical exertion as he pulls a strand of hair from his eyes and tucks it back behind his ear.
‘Is he...?’
He shakes his head. ‘Not yet. His chest is moving. But he isn’t getting up.’
‘Call the police,’ I say. ‘There’s evidence downstairs. Photos. Loads of them. There’s got to be more stuff, too. Enough to convict him. Enough to end all this.’
He looks at me with something in his eye that I’ve never seen before.
‘I can end it all right now
