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The foulest mood I’d ever been in hung around. It didn’t dissipate, didn’t lessen in intensity. I took Lucca’s shit, let him rail at me as he shoved me against the wall in his office. Let him call me all the names under the sun. Let him evil eye me as Ryder hauled him off me and pushed him into a chair. In truth, I was too numb to give a fuck. Too numb to retaliate. I’d hurt his son, with intent or not, I’d still hurt him.

When Ryder had arrived at my flat, with Boomer not too far behind, he’d found me slumped over the kitchen chair with a bottle of whisky in my hand. The slap to the head had vaguely roused me and while he’d marched me down to his club to clean up, Boomer had stripped the Polaroids that bitch had taped to every inch of my bathroom wall. The sick feeling had yet to subside at what they’d shown, my hate only intensifying when I thought about it.

And then, Ayden. There was the killer. Right there in front of his house he’d told me to fuck off. I deserved every ounce of his derision and hatred. If his words hadn’t hurt enough initially, they’d sliced harsher when he’d said he loved me. I mean, why? Who could love a total fuck up like me? Even Sophie couldn’t stand me half the time; her love was obligatory, she was my sister. My heart had soared for all of ten seconds, then plummeted and drowned with each step Ayden took from me. I stayed on my knees in the gravel and dirt where I belonged, long after his car screeched away.

I was told to keep on with the plan, so I did. The car journey to the rehab centre I was taking Boomer to was only an hour from Brighton. The day’s sunshine and warmth did little to heat me up as Boomer drove his beat-up Subaru further into the countryside. We hadn’t said much more to one another past hello, and it suited me fine. I wasn’t ready to talk about the monumental fuck up I’d achieved days ago. He had answers, I knew he did, but I didn’t want to hear them. The last thing I remembered was sucking back drinks at Monty’s and he was right next to me. Chrissie was responsible, probably Charlie too, but I’d save that for another day.

“You gonna manage this?” I asked eventually.

He shrugged, his mouth set in a thin line, his cheeks pulled in. From drugs or what, I didn’t know. My friend was the shell of a man he used to be, whether he could do this or not was beside the point. I wasn’t mollycoddling the fucker anymore.

“You don’t do this, and you die. You get that, right? Every time you shovel that shit up your nose you are asking for trouble.”

I was angry, at myself, at him, at everyone. I hated the world and Boomer was getting a front row seat. He nodded. That was all, one subtle nod of the head that confirmed he wasn’t quite ready for this.

“Seriously, Boomer. Get clean.” I pulled in a deep breath. “I’ll be out when you’re done. Like out, out. You don’t get clean, you don’t come around me. You don’t come around Sophie. You got me?”

God, I was a grade ‘A’ prick. What other incentive was there to wave in front of his face? Maybe if he felt enough for me, for Sophie, he’d at least try. The uncomfortable silence remained until we reached the gates of the sprawling estate the rehabilitation centre was on. Boomer slowed the car and pulled off to the side of the road, parking up on the grass verge. Pulling the keys from the ignition, he climbed out the car.

With no idea what he was up to, I followed suit. Boomer had his guitar slung across his back, his duffle bag at his feet and his hand extended with the car keys dangling from his fingertips, when I reached him at the boot of the car.

“Nu uh, Boomer. I need to see you check in.” Shaking my head vigorously at him, I growled. “Get back in the fucking car.”

“Listen, Gripp. I got to do this myself, mate. Walk in there and hand myself over. I can’t have you holding my hand. It’s got to be me. Surely you get that?” I looked at the closed gates behind him and swallowed hard. “I’ll get that Lesley chick to call you, let you know.” Placing his keys on the roof of his car, Boomer reached for his duffle bag. “Thanks, Shaun.”

Turning, my best friend left me on the side of the road with his beaten up and scarred car. Once he’d slipped through the gates, I sat my arse onto the kerb and fished out my phone, waiting for a message. When Ryder’s name danced across my screen the same time it chimed, I gave the first genuine smile I had in days. The four words telling me Boomer had checked in settled at least one hurt. The rest was up to him.

In no hurry to move, I laid back and watched the wispy clouds amble across the stretch of blue above me. I didn’t want to think of anything, much less the shit show that was my life. I closed my eyes and stole a minute’s peace before deciding it was time to make my wrongs right.

Ayden wasn’t getting to walk away, not after saying what he did. Not after telling me he loved me. It was too easy, the coward’s way out, and I had never been a coward in my life. I wasn’t about to start then.

I loved him too. There was no way I was giving up.

Jumping to my feet with a renewed vigour, I snatched the keys from the roof of the car and slid into the driver’s seat, adjusting it to suit my height. Nerves hummed through me as I cranked the engine, I was terrified. For the first time in my life I felt scared, really scared, but I could do this. I would do this. To not feel Ayden’s hand in mine again, to not feel the scratch of his stubble across my cheek, the heat of his body against mine, didn’t bear thinking about. I let myself smile one more time then turned the car toward home, toward Ayden.

Five minutes into the drive and my phone chirped in my pocket again. I had to ignore it, there was no safe place to pull over for the time being. It rang off, then started up again and I cursed the fact I was on a back-country road with very little room either side. The phone went silent again and I peered up the lane looking for somewhere to park, spying an entrance to a field that was big enough, then I parked the car as close to the gate as I could and hurried to yank the bloody phone from my jeans pocket.

Two missed calls from Ayden left me apprehensive and I scrambled to unlock the keypad to call him back. He answered on the first ring, his breaths heavy and his frantic voice travelling down the line. I pinched my eyes closed trying to understand the garbled mess coming from his mouth. I could hear his desperation and it was enough to spur me into action, flicking the phone onto speaker and tossing it onto the passenger seat as I started the car again. By the time Ayden had hung up and I had the vague jist of what he was saying, I was screaming down the road with my phone at my ear, calling Lucca. Damned if I was caught, I needed to get home.

When Lucca answered I didn’t let him get a word in edge ways. “Ayden called, said Sophie called him upset, then hung up. That someone was in the flat. He can’t get her or Jake on the phone so he’s heading over. He’s freaking out, man.”

“Okay, where are you?”

“I’m almost an hour away. I was dropping Boomer off.” I pushed my foot hard onto the brake pedal as a rabbit ran out in front of the car, my body jutting forward, the seatbelt pulling tight and digging into my neck. “Oomph!”

“I’ll call him, meet you there. I’m about forty minutes out.”

Hanging up, I threw the phone onto the passenger seat, in case he called back, then I floored it as carefully as I could, not wanting to end up in an accident.

Something cruel pooled in my stomach as I sped through the back lanes, a feeling of something being terribly wrong. I needed home.