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  He laughs. Mimics my words in a fake, high voice. “Go. Away.” Then he stops laughing. “Bitch.”

  I have no idea why he’s so angry at me. I’m going to throw up. “I need to get out of here.” My voice sounds distorted.

  He leans even closer, puts his hands on my upper thighs to pin me down. “You’re not going anywhere, Katie Holmes.” His fingers bore into my thighs.

  I need to get out of here. I’m going to throw up. I shove against his chest but my hands feel strangely uncoordinated. I don’t understand what’s going on.

  “Aaww shame, look at the little girlie now.” He’s sneering at me, like he hates me. “Who’s panting after who now, I wonder. You slut.”

  How can I be this drunk? I only had two ciders. And that cocktail someone pressed into my hand.

  “You think men are just dogs, don’t you? You think you can walk around, all sexy and dirty with those long legs, and just ignore everybody. You think nothing can ever happen to someone like you.” His voice sounds like it’s coming from far away.

  I have no idea what he’s talking about. My eyes are struggling to stay open. I look around, trying to find the exit. I need to get away.

  I see that Jamal is leaning in the doorway, leering at us.

  “It’s locked,” he says. “Nobody will bother us. Just relax, shawty.”

  I feel panic well up inside me, but I fight it down. I know these guys. I know them.

  Willem’s one hand is grabbing at my breast, roughly. His other hand is digging into my upper leg, keeping me pinned down. “Come on, you bitch, I know you want to play.”

  Jamal laughs and I hear the hysterical excitement in his voice.

  This is not happening to me.

  Miraculously, through the thick fog in my brain, some of my training comes back to me. I make my body go limp, hang my head low. Willem relaxes his hold a little bit. Comes closer.

  I jerk my head up, hard, against his nose.

  “Bitch!”

  The move should’ve really hurt him, should’ve bought me some real time. But something is wrong; I’m not as fast as I should be. He swears, grabs at his face, but when I drop down to the floor, the floor is too far away …

  It’s way too far.

  Everything is happening so slowly. I can’t move.

  I’m lying on the floor. Willem is kicking at my ribs, viciously. Once. Twice. The pain is breathtaking. I’m trying to hide under the bench. He’s hissing hateful things at me but I can’t make out the furious words, everything is too hazy. Blood is streaming from his nose into his mouth so his teeth are red. He looks like a vampire. He’s still kicking me.

  Jamal comes closer, pulls Willem away from me, and for a second I’m grateful, but then he grabs my hair, starts dragging me out from under the bench.

  This is not happening to me.

  Someone opens the door to the balcony, and I scream. I think I scream, but it sounds like a whisper. The door closes again.

  I feel for the Watch. I can’t get my hands to move properly.

  Jamal is yanking at my jeans. Willem kicks me again. My shoulder goes numb, then starts hurting so much my eyes tear up.

  “Not so tough now, are you?” he spits at me. “Slut.”

  I can’t get my hands to work.

  I need to get to the Watch, but I can’t move my arms.

  The stars are spinning wildly. High above me. So far away.

  Jamal lifts my hands above my head, holds both of them with one of his. I begin to cry.

  He is pressing his tongue against my face, slowly licking, laughing, slimy. When I try to turn my head away he hits me right on the mouth, hard. I taste blood. I can’t move. My body feels like melted butter.

  With a small, cold, almost unconcerned part of my brain I realise that I can now feel the Watch. Jamal’s grip is pressing my one hand against my other wrist.

  His hand on my breast hurts like hell. His breath in my face is making me retch.

  The fingers of my right hand can move a little.

  Willem is laughing, telling Jamal to hurry the fuck up, he wants to get in there.

  I press all the buttons, whatever I can reach, all at the same time.

  I think that’s what I do.

  I think that’s what I did.

  The stars are very far away.

  Chapter 15

  I wake up in Finn’s bed.

  I’m lying under a thick down duvet. I’m wearing my own tracksuit pants and my most comfortable, thick, fleecy sweater. My head hurts. My ribs. My shoulder.

  Everything really hurts.

  For a moment I have no idea what’s going on. Then I remember the stars. Willem and Jamal. The cold cement floor under my back. Pressing buttons on the Watch.

  I can’t remember anything after that.

  I close my eyes and concentrate, but there’s nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  When I try to sit up my ribs hurt so badly that an involuntary whimper escapes my lips. Oh. My lips. My lips hurt too.

  “Katie.” Finn is there, sitting on a chair next to the bed. He looks terrible. That glossy glamour of his is gone. He looks … raw. His muscles are tensed, his face pale beneath his tan.

  “You found me.” I’m beginning to cry.

  Finn reaches a hesitant hand towards me, then pulls it back as if he is afraid to touch me. He runs his fingers through his hair instead. His hands are trembling lightly.

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “There’s a tracker on the Watch.”

  He has never told me about that. It’s a huge infringement of my privacy. I should be angry. I have never been less angry in my life.

  “Thank God.” I feel the tears welling up in my eyes. ‘Thank you. Thank you, Finn.”

  He shakes his head. He looks down, hides his glittering eyes behind a curtain of black hair. “Don’t thank me, Katie, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Did …” I don’t know how to ask this. “When you found me …” I take a deep breath. “What happened?”

  “You can’t remember?” He is biting the inside of his lip. I have never seen him like this.

  I swallow audibly, my throat dry. “I passed out. After I activated the alarm.”

  He shakes his head at my words, but doesn’t answer immediately. He passes me a glass of water. There is an intensity in his eyes I have never seen before.

  “No, angel. You didn’t pass out. You were conscious when I got there.”

  “No.”

  “Oh Katie.” I’m not sure what I’m hearing in his voice. It’s not pity. It’s not anger. Maybe it’s both.

  “I can’t remember anything.”

  He nods. “It’s an effect of the flunitrazepam.”

  “The what?”

  “Flunitrazepam. After you had a shower and changed last night, we drew some of your blood. The test showed up a significant concentration of flunitrazepam.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a date-rape drug.” He can’t look at me. “Usually sold under the brand name Rohypnol. Blackouts are a common side-effect.”

  Date. Rape. Drug.

  I can’t believe this is happening to me.

  “Oh no.” I put the glass down, my fingers suddenly numb. Then I grab the pillow, roll myself up into a little ball. “Oh no. Oh no.”

  “Sshhh.” Finn puts an incredibly gentle hand on my shoulder. “Katie. Listen to me. You weren’t raped, angel. We stopped it in time.”

  The relief is overwhelming, even though the sense of violation does not go away.

  “How did you get there so fast?”

  “When I got your signal I panicked.” He draws in a harsh breath. “I called untime immediately. I was afraid …”

  I register the sweater. The duvet. “We’re still in untime?”

  He nods. “In real time it’s about half a second after you pressed those buttons. I wanted you to get better first. Sleep it off.”

  I’m struggling to process all of this. “And I was �
�� what? I was still conscious when you got there?”

  His face is grave. “Your eyes were open. You could speak; you said that you were watching the stars. But you couldn’t move your body and your brain wasn’t working properly, Katie. You were … not yourself.”

  A spasm of humiliation tears through me. “Oh my God.”

  He keeps his voice even, but he’s clenching his fists. “You’re lucky you didn’t freeze. It took me a while to locate you.”

  “And I just … lay there?”

  “There was a boy on top of you.” A muscle jumps in Finn’s cheek. His knuckles are turning white. “His body heat must have protected you against the cold.”

  I feel sick. I try to sit up again, but my ribs hurt too much.

  “I’m going to give you a shot for the pain.” Finn says. “Don’t worry, nothing’s broken. But you’re seriously bruised, and you’ve cracked at least one rib. We’ve already iced your lip, so it doesn’t look too bad … You really can’t remember anything?”

  I shake my head.

  “That’s okay.” Finn looks anything but okay. He looks stern and righteous and terrifying – the angel of death. But his gaze softens when he looks at me. “You’re going to be fine.”

  “Oh God.” I press my face into the pillow.

  “I’m going to give you a shot now, angel. You need to sleep some more. It’ll dull the pain for about eight hours.”

  “You shouldn’t stay in untime for so long, Finn.”

  “I’m fine.” He tries to smile. “I’m practically sitting on top of the mountain.”

  I don’t want to argue with him, so I nod. He carefully moves up my sleeve, as gently as if I’m made of glass. Then he swabs my arm with a piece of cotton wool, pushes a needle into my skin. His touch is so sure and so tender that I hardly feel a thing.

  I don’t even ask what he’s giving me. I trust him with my life.

  After that he tucks me into bed. My eyes become heavy. There’s something I must remember to tell him. There’s something urgent …

  The bed is so soft and so warm and I’m so tired.

  I remember, just before he leaves the room.

  “Finn.”

  “Angel?”

  “Don’t kill anybody while I’m sleeping, okay?”

  He just looks at me, his eyes harder and colder than I’ve ever seen them. “Just go to sleep, Katie,” he finally says, his voice soothing.

  I don’t want to argue with him.

  I love Finn.

  I feel my eyes drifting closed, and I surrender myself to the warm, comforting cocoon of sleep.

  * * *

  When I wake up the second time I feel a lot better. The medication must still be active in my system, because everything hurts a lot less. Actually, I can still feel the pain, especially in my ribs, but it’s like I don’t care about it any more. That pain is happening to another Katie, someone far, far away from here.

  “Finn?”

  “I’m here, angel.”

  He walks towards me from the other side of the room. He looks terrible. Like something human has been stripped away. He looks like an animal, dangerous and unpredictable.

  Then I see he’s carrying a tray with some food, which he places beside me. There’s soup. Some bread.

  “You need to eat this. We’ve been in untime for quite a while. Your body will need some sustenance.”

  The gentleness of his words is unexpected; his body is so tense, so full of rage.

  “Thanks.” I take a bite from the bread to please him. Then I realise I’m ravenously hungry. The soup is good too – it’s Mom’s famous chicken soup; he must have warmed it up for me. I finish everything. We don’t talk while I’m eating.

  When I have finished he takes the tray away. I sit up in his bed.

  “Finn,” I say when he comes back and sits down on the side of the bed. “Thank you so much …” I feel my eyes tearing up again. I must’ve cried more today than in the past year.

  He gives me a tight smile. “It’s just soup, you know.”

  “No.” I take his hand, press it to my face. “Thank you. For coming to get me. For being so fast …”

  He removes his hand from my grip, gently but firmly. His eyes burn into mine. “Don’t thank me, Katie, please.” His dark scowl is even more frightening than the ice in his voice. “You should never have been in that situation in the first place.”

  “Oh Finn –”

  “It’s my fault.” He jerks his head back when I reach out to him, nostrils flaring.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “I should’ve been protecting you. Looking out for you. And instead I was …” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but the self-loathing on his face is difficult to look at.

  “You’re not my nanny, Finn.”

  “No.” He frowns. “But you’re the only person I care about and I wasn’t there for you. I’ve done everything wrong.”

  I fight a fresh assault of tears. “None of this is your fault, Finn.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes glittering, narrowed slits. It’s like he’s suddenly far away.

  “I had a lot of time to think, Katie. When you were sleeping. And you were right, that other night, when you told me I was using Simon’s death as an excuse.”

  My mouth falls open. This is the first time he’s said Simon’s name since the day he died.

  “I’ve been selfish, Katie. Reckless and stupid. Wallowing in self-pity. And … guilt …” He pauses briefly, and I see how difficult it is for him to say this. “I’ve fallen back into … I’ve become everything Simon taught me not to be.”

  Oh dear God. I remember something. I go cold.

  For a moment I’m too much of a coward to ask. But I’m also afraid not to.

  “Finn.” I take his hand again, and this time he doesn’t pull away. “You didn’t …” I swallow. “Did you … What happened to those two boys?”

  His eyes are cold, savage. “They’re not boys, Katie, they’re animals.”

  Oh God.

  I can feel the blood leaving my face.

  Finn must notice, because he visibly controls his anger. “But I didn’t kill them, if that’s what you’re asking. I went back for them though, while you were sleeping. They’re in the basement.”

  “Our basement?”

  He nods.

  I try to smile, dizzy with relief, but my lip hurts so I stop. “You’re making a bit of a habit of this, aren’t you?”

  He doesn’t return my smile. “You asked me not to kill them … but I’m not saying I won’t.”

  “Finn –”

  “For the moment all three of them are downstairs.” His eyes are blazing. “Safe. If not exactly sound.”

  I don’t think too hard about what that might mean. But I’m puzzled by something else. “What do you mean all three of them?”

  His fingers curl around mine. “One was keeping guard on the other side of the door, waiting his turn.”

  My stomach turns. A vague memory comes back to me – a door opening, then closing.

  “Katie, I realise this is your fight, not mine, and I respect that.” When he looks at me his cold eyes look almost reptilian. “But understand one thing. Those little fucks are going to pay.” His grip on my hand tightens. “I’m going to make them pay.”

  This is the point where I usually put the brakes on Finn’s anger. Talk him out of doing something stupid.

  But this time I’m angry too.

  I am angrier than I’ve ever been in my life.

  See, I know these boys. They’re not random criminals – they’re Daniel’s creepy friends. Jamal, Willem, Joseph.

  I am too angry to speak.

  So I just nod.

  * * *

  When we get to the basement it’s worse than I thought.

  Willem’s face is full of blood; I remember vaguely that I might have head-butted him. His leg is twisted at an unnatural angle. I raise my eyebrows at Finn.

  “He was pulling back that le
g to kick you,” Finn says. “I wasn’t careful when I moved him.”

  I nod. From the looks of it, Finn wasn’t too careful when he moved Jamal either. But that’s not what turns my stomach. What makes me sick – sick – as I stand there, is that the third boy isn’t Joseph after all.

  It’s Daniel.

  The betrayal I feel as I stare at the eager, expectant look still frozen on his face is overwhelming. It slams into my stomach. Like a fist. Like another violation.

  Daniel was the person waiting on the other side of the door.

  Daniel.

  Making dead sure that if I remembered anything, I wouldn’t remember him.

  I start shaking. I don’t care about my stupid karma. I want to kill them. I want to kill them.

  But first, God help me, I want to make them suffer.

  Chapter 16

  Justice is coming for you.

  Punishment will be swift.

  I’m writing this on the bare chests of the three boys in the basement. I’m using a permanent skin marker, the type that won’t wash off, no matter how much you scrub. These boys will be walking around with my threats on their bodies for at least a week.

  I’m trying to keep the tone of the threats formal, prophetic, but when I get to Daniel I can’t help getting personal.

  Watch out, asshole. I’m going to slit your throat.

  It is immensely satisfying.

  When I’ve finished I tell Finn that we should leave the room. Let them wake up all alone in here. Let them wonder what the hell happened. Stew in uncertainty for a while.

  Feel something of the fear I felt.

  We leave the room. Finn flicks his head, closes his eyes, and suddenly it feels like I’m walking into a sauna. I get into the lift with him. We don’t say anything.

  I’m not sure how far I’m going to go with this.

  All I know is that for now my head is swarming with thoughts of the purest vengeance.

  * * *

  When the lift opens on my floor we’re both surprised to see Mom standing there. She’s in her nightgown, her hair all over the place. Mom never looks like this.

  “Thank God you’re back!” Mom grabs me, holds me tight. “And you, Finn. Thank God you’re here.”

  I don’t understand what’s going on. How could she know?

  I look at Finn but he shakes his head, frowns.