Knife's Edge

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The realisation that things aren't always so clear cut is absolutely terrifying. I wish everything could go back to how it was before, that I could just hit a rewind button and find myself back in a time when the Coleman's weren't a part of my life. I don't even understand how I got here in the first place.

And the stress of it all might just be killing me. My heart feels like its dying.

They won't go back to his place, stop stressing, I try to convince myself. They won't risk his brothers overhearing. It'll be fine.

"We've got the all clear," Owen's voice suddenly yells from downstairs, shortly followed by the bang of the front door closing. "Our pearly whites shall live to see another day!"

I hear his footsteps as he walks for the kitchen. Then, only a second later, George's voice calls out after him.

"That does not mean you can stuff your face with sweets!"

The only response is the clang of cupboards as Owen raids the snacks, probably searching for whatever he can find with the highest sugar content.

Realising that I'm still stood in the hallway outside Bailey's bedroom, I start in the direction of all the commotion. My phone buzzes in my back pocket as I reach the bottom of the stairs – a text from Ellie, obviously rushed.

'Hi, yoi free tp work tofay? Crazy bust! X'

I chuckle at the typos, a little surprised. Usually, Sunday's are in no way 'crazy' or 'busy'. Saturday's are typically the killer.

Still, I'm not complaining. Grateful for the distraction that's just been handed to me on a glass-screened platter, I type out a reply.

'Your thumbs having a stroke? No stress. Cavalry's on route! X'

Then, glancing down at the black jeans and white hoodie I'm wearing, I decide to head back to my room and switch out the top half for something more work-appropriate. I settle for a short-sleeved, grey blouse and quickly wrestle my hair into a ponytail.

As I head back for the stairs, I can't help the way my eyes dart in the direction of Bailey's door. I sigh when I realise that I'm now going to be worried about her all day, counting down the hours until I know she's back home and safe.

Trying to quell some of my worry, I send her a quick message, too.

'I'll be at work if you need me. Be safe.'

Surprisingly, her reply comes pretty fast – and it actually consists of more than a single word.

'Only thing I'm in danger of here is brain-freeze. I've taken Alex for ice cream. Took a twenty from your purse.'

Of course she did – and I can pretty much guarantee that she won't be paying it back.

I grumble to myself as I start down the stairs. Looking towards the coat rack by the door when I hit the bottom, I scowl at my bag as it hangs there – now unzipped – like it in any way had a choice in betraying me. Sure enough, when I check, the cash is gone.

On the upside, at least it's given them something to do, so they don't go back to his house. A missing twenty quid is worth that, in my opinion.

Even so, she could've at least asked.

After stuffing my feet into my pair of white trainers by the door, I venture to the living room to say bye to the boys before I leave. I find George sitting on the sofa, watching Owen and Oscar as they fight over the TV remote, and can't help but raise an amused eyebrow from where I stand in the doorway. There's a smirk of exasperation on George's face as he watches on, muttering the odd, "careful, lads," when they get too close to the coffee table.