CHAPTER 2

'For fucks sake, Casey, I told you to go easy. Didn't I tell you to go easy?'

Davey had been pacing the floor for twenty minutes already, punctuating his rant by throwing things, kicking stuff and generally shouting so loud that my already-pounding head felt like it might split into two.

Not that I could blame him. He had warned me before we'd left the house, albeit in that very casual, nonchalant way of his.

Go easy, leave some for the rest of us, yeah babe?

In other words, go easy because he was worried there'd be none left for him, not necessarily because he was worried something might happen to me. But that was Davey's attitude towards everything. He wore

casual like a coat. Practically had awards in it and everything.

Not that he was acting casually now. I'd ruined his night. His big night. That one night he could never get back because his stupid junkie of a girlfriend had taken too much, flipped out like a complete nutter on the dance floor and generally embarrassed him in front of the whole of Hackney.

I wanted to say that maybe he should give more of a shit that about that girlfriend instead of what his adoring crowd thought of him, but I kept my mouth shut. I'd caused way too much trouble already and what's more, I felt like Death and Death was barely keeping me upright on the bed, let alone allowing me to even think about stringing a sentence together.

'Do you even have any idea what tonight fucking cost me? Do you, Case?'

Addi, who'd been loitering close-by with that look on his face ever since I'd woken up, held out his hands, trying to calm his mate, who was still pacing and looking more agitated by the second, if that was even possible.

'Bro, seriously, it was a big fucking success just as we all knew it would be. You don't have to worry about nothin', man. That place was fucking banging. I ain't never seen a crowd like that, they were so pumped it was

unreal .'

Davey glared at him. 'Yeah, and what will they remember, eh? Davey Kelley's girlfriend screaming like a bloody maniac and causing a fucking scene!'

Had I been screaming? I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember anything, just that one minute I'd been dancing, having the time of my bloody life and the next, I was back here, lying on the living room floor soaking wet from where I'd been put in the shower fully-clothed to cool me down and stinking of puke where I'd thrown up on the rug, after they'd tried to force Valium down my throat. Not to mention that fact I'd woken up to find I was surrounded by Davey's mates all sitting around, smoking and getting a good look at his girlfriend whose saturated clothes had gone practically see-through. Waking up in your own puke was bad enough, waking up to find every low-life from Davey's crew was getting a free-for-all glimpse of your undies was another thing entirely.

Addi rolled his eyes as Davey turned his back on him and stalked over to the dressing table, which was cluttered with all sorts of shit you wouldn't ever usually expect to find on a dressing table. He took a swig from a bottle of beer placed there, swishing it around his mouth for a second before swallowing, then quickly took another gulp.

I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him this angry. He could do angry like a pro, when he shrugged off the casual coat, of course, but Davey's anger was always controlled, just like he was in control of everything else in his life. Usually I enjoyed his anger, got off on it I suppose, mainly because I knew sex invariably followed the storm; a frantic, leg-weakening sex that left me sweating and breathless, but this was a different kind of anger. This was the kind that unnerved me because it wasn't like him at all. This was unpredictable. Dangerous.

'Dave, mate,' Addi insisted. 'I'm telling you, no one barely noticed. We got her out of there before most people knew what was happening. Everyone was too fucking wasted to give a shit anyway.'

'That's not the point and you know it!' He turned on me again, his lips curled up into a sneer as he looked at me. 'It was my night, Case. Mine. You fucking knew how hard I'd worked on it. Bloody months of sheer graft.'

'I know,' I mumbled, gingerly rubbing at my temples. I hadn't stopped shivering since I'd woken up and now everything ached. I felt like I'd run ten marathons in twenty-four hours. Not that I knew what it was like to run a marathon, mind you, but I was pretty sure this was close enough, minus the blisters.

'You know, yeah?' he said, his gaze burning into me, one eyebrow raised. 'Yeah, of course you know. I mean, you've only been with me every day, right? You've been here watching me organise everything, plan everything right down to the last fucking detail. You've been around as I've jumped through bloody hoops to get last night sorted. Every hiccup. Every obstacle. You've seen it all and yet still you had to try and fuck everything up for me, didn't you?'

With one sweep of his arm, he sent everything from the side crashing to the floor, swinging his leg and booting half the stuff across the room, before charging across towards me, his face twisted with rage. I scrambled back on the bed, getting my legs tangled up in the blanket and ending up curled into a ball, throwing my hands over my head to protect myself. But Davey never reached me.

'What the fuck, bro!' Addi shouted. 'What's the matter with you? Okay, she went too far, she bloody knows that, but look at her! She's a mess. She didn't mean to do it. She didn't mean to cross the line.'

I lowered my arms to see that Addi had thrown himself between me and Davey, and now had his hands pushed against his mate's chest, trying to calm him down, although Davey looked just as wild as he had moments before and, I noticed, was still clutching the neck of the beer bottle.

'Tell him, Case. You didn't mean to. It was just an accident, right?'

Our eyes met and I saw the anxiety in his, imploring me not to screw this up too, but I couldn't help but think, he knows, he sees. And he did. He always did. Sometimes I thought he saw more than Davey ever could.

What else could I say?

'Of course it was,' I whispered, hating how croaky and weak my voice sounded. 'It was stupid of me. Really stupid. I'm sorry, babe, please, I'm really sorry.'

Davey stared at me, a momentary softness muting the anger in his eyes, the tightness in his jaw loosening. With a snarl of frustration, he yanked himself out of Addi's hold, turning on his heels towards the open doorway of the bedroom, before looking back at me and taking another swig of beer.

'That's the problem though, isn't it? You always are.' He raised the bottle in mock-toast. 'Oh, by the way, Happy fucking New Year to you too, Case.'

Before I could say anything, the bottle flew across the room, hitting the wall not that far away from where I remained hunched in a ball, huddling to protect myself again as the glass shattered onto the bed.

'Fucking Hell , man,' shouted Addi, as Davey stormed out.

I pushed myself into the corner and watched as the last remnants of beer from the shattered bottle dripped down the wall in thin, dark rivulets.

*

I woke some time later, still curled into a ball so tight that stretching out my limbs felt like a whole new world of pain as my muscles screamed in protest.

The first thing I noticed was that all the glass fragments had gone, even though the beer still stained the wall. The second was the sounds of the girl coming from the room across the hall. My bedroom door was closed, but I could still hear her and would have recognised her over-dramatic fake pôrn-star orgasm anywhere.

I pulled the pillow over my head and groaned.

Star Fucking Adams. Of all the skanks he could have chosen to punish me with, of course it had to be her. He knew I hated her. I mean, for a start, who the fuck is called Star anyway? I'd like to have said her parents were free-loving hippies from the seventies or something, but the name was fake, just like her over-plumped collagen lips and plastic tîts. She'd appeared on the underground club scene a few months back, attaching herself to Davey and his gang like the slutty little leech she was, making sure he knew she was available. And man, did she make herself available. To be fair, for the most part, Davey had avoided her, brushing her aside like he brushed a lot of the desperate sycophants aside, but I knew he'd been with her. I'd heard them. Heard her. With those Oscar-worthy cries, I was surprised Hollywood hadn't heard her by now.

Slipping out of bed, I sluggishly pulled off Davey's t-shirt, not even remembering when I'd got changed from the dress I'd worn at the club and pulled on a vest top and trackie bottoms. Avoiding the mirror, I raked my fingers through my hair, pulled it up into a loose pony-tail and left the room, sighing when I opened the door to find the one across the hall was partly open. Ignoring the show, I padded downstairs, feeling the weight of every step judder through me.

The kitchen and living room was open-plan, full of clutter - just like every room in Davey's house - but thankfully today, devoid of life except for Addi, who sat at the small table in the kitchen, a mug of steaming coffee and yesterday's gaudy tabloid in front of him.

He looked up as I shuffled in and without a word, nodded at the chair opposite and pushed the mug across the table at me.

I took it gratefully and sipped at the hot coffee as he got up and made himself another, before sitting back down. We stared at each other for a few seconds, the strong scent of coffee drifting up and making me feel more nauseous than I already did.

'You don't have to pretend, you know?' He pointed straight up to the ceiling, where the bed springs squeaked out of time with Star's ridiculous moans. 'You don't have to act like you don't give a shit.'

I sniffed and immediately wished I hadn't when I inhaled too much coffee all at once. I pushed it away. Grabbing the newspaper, I began to flick through the pages, barely even reading it. Words. Pictures. It all made my head hurt.

'Case.'

'I don't give a shit.'

Addi chuckled as he leant back in the chair, linking his hands behind his head. 'Course you don't, baby girl. Course you don't. Same old tough-as-nails Casey Brogan, right? Doesn't give a damn about anything or anyone. Even herself.'

I gave him a barely disinterested glance. 'Spare me the psycho-analysis, yeah? You've been reading too much of this rag, Addison.' I stabbed at the paper with one finger. 'It's filling your head with crap. You should get out more. Go to the library maybe. Read something other than Kardashian bullshit and the problem page.'

'I read the sports pages actually.'

'Ooh, so high-brow of you.' I rolled my eyes.

He looked at me for a moment, in that serious way he often did, but the smile followed nevertheless. It always did with Addi.

'Yeah, well, you should care. He's being a dîck.'

'He's being Davey.'

'Oh, and that's okay, is it?'

It was my turn to chuckle then. 'You're meant to be his mate. Anyone would think you're trying to turn me against him.'

'Come on,' he said, shaking his head. 'There's nothing I can say about Davey you don't already know. He's my boy, yeah? But you're my girl and you don't have to sit down here listening to him banging that nasty skank upstairs.'

'I'm Davey's girl.'

The hurt rippled across his face, brief, but undeniable and I hated myself a little bit for it, because he didn't deserve it. It was a mean shot. An attempt to shove him away, all wrapped up in three little words. He shrugged it off, bouncing back with a scowl that darkened his brow.

'Fuck off, Case, you know what I mean. We're mates, you and me. And I want you to give a shit. Not just about this, but about everything.' He paused, chewing on his lower lip. 'You fucking scared me the other night, you know?'

I sighed irritably and turned the pages faster.

'Don't do that. Don't ignore me.'

But I did ignore him. Or at least tried to, until he slammed his hand down on the newspaper, stopping me from turning any more pages.

'You scared me, okay? You scared the living shit out of me. I ain't never seen you like that before.'

I stared at him obstinately. 'I'm fine, aren't I? Look, I'm here, breathing, still alive and kicking.'

'Damn it, Case. You're an arrogant bitch, you know that?'

Anger flashed briefly across his face, replaced quickly by concern that softened his features. I think I preferred his anger to his pity. I could deal with anger. Pity and concern tugged deep, twisting and knotting my insides until I thought they might never unravel.

'You can't keep doing this, Case. You might think just because you've pulled through a few times that everything will always be okay, that you're fucking invincible or something, but you're not and New Year's Eve proved that. You were ...' He trailed off, his eyes troubled.

'What?' I snapped.

'I don't know, it was just different, that's all. You were screaming and shit. You were bugging out for real. Like you were really scared.'

Little pulses of pain echoed across my forehead. Frowning, I got up and went over to the sink and poured myself a glass of water. It was slightly cloudy and not cold enough for my liking, but I needed to get rid of the taste of coffee that lay thick on my tongue.

'I don't remember,' I said finally, leaning against the worktop and cradling the glass to my chest. 'Look, whatever it was, it was just a bad trip, that's all. Nothing to worry about.'

'But I am worried.'

I hesitated, about to bite back with a typical Casey Brogan devil-may-care quip, but something in Addi's eyes made me stop. He

was worried. And of all the people in Davey's gang, I knew Addi always had my back. Of course, I knew there was far more to it than him just being a mate, I could see that in his eyes too, always had, not that it had ever bothered me. In fact, if it wasn't for Davey, I reckoned Addi and me would totally have had a thing. He was pretty bloody gorgeous after all, eyelashes longer than most women I knew and one of those smiles that had half the girls in Hackney drooling after him and desperate to drop their knickers. But to me, he was just Addison, Davey's mate. My mate .