Beyond Blood

Games of Cat and Mouse

Chapter 3
Games of Cat and Mouse

Laura couldn’t look at me. Her entire focus was on stirring the sugar she’d added to her coffee even though I was certain it was already far too sweet.

I let her have her silence to gather her thoughts while I flipped through the folder Ness had sent me home with; a mix of official forms and drink ingredients I feared I’d never memorise. He’d also text me a schedule for the week, allowing me to take tomorrow off to study in preparation for class on Monday, which meant my official start day was Wednesday. Quite why they were being so flexible for me, I didn’t know. Maybe it really was just because I was friends with Laura, which brought me back to her once more.

Cupping my own mug of coffee, I took a slow sip while watching her scrolling through her newsfeed over the rim.

“I hate when you do that,” she muttered, pale eyes finally lifting to meet my gaze.

“Do what?” I asked innocently.

She huffed and pointed a finger at me. “You know exactly what. That. . .that thing you do without saying anything.”

I laughed, propping my elbows on the breakfast bar. She’d said as much before.

“If I don’t need to say anything, then spill.”

She huffed, and picked at the edge of her nail, a nervous act I wasn’t used to seeing from her.

“You know I got into some trouble during high school. Mum was drunk all the time, my brothers and sisters always fighting, there was never any food and always some random stranger on our couch. I used to escape the arguing at night by going to clubs, getting wasted and finding any drug under the sun to help me get through it.”

I nodded and murmured to show I was listening.

Laura and I had only been roommates, and friends, for a little over a year, but she’d opened up to me as I had her very early on. Yet, while I knew about her horrid home life, and she mine - though I’d always argued mine wasn’t bad really - there was much we still had to share. Like why she'd never introduced me to her friends from The Blackbird. I was sure she knew them from somewhere before the pub had even opened.

“I met Mac at a dodgy club, a really dodgy one. Some guy, I can’t even remember his name, took me there for a ‘good time’.” She shuddered and took a long sip of coffee before continuing. “Anyway, the guy attacked me, pushed me up against the wall outside, shoved his tongue down my throat and his hand up my dress. Mac chased him off. I was practically dead to the world, bleeding badly from where I’d hit my head in the struggle, so he took me to his, cleaned me up, and made sure I was alright.

“I told him everything about my life that night. Everything. He just sat and listened, no judgement. We. . .connected. I couldn’t have been much older than seventeen at the time but I was lost as fuck. I’d. . .I’d probably be dead if he hadn’t shown me there are other ways to get what I got from drug highs and dangerous situations. He introduced me to his circle, and I found a place where I wasn’t judged or pitied, and a way to make money doing something I enjoyed. There’s a freedom with them, and people like you might look at it and see something to be feared or shunned, but it’s mine.”

“I wouldn’t ever judge you, Loz,” I murmured, reaching out to touch her arm.

She softened, the defensive edge disappearing from her voice. “You might, if you knew.”