Chapter 39 Kier

39

Kier

Devon, July 2018

Penn and Mila's wedding venue is a speck in the distance by the time I stop walking. Leaning against the seawall, sweat is beading on my brow.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Despite the beauty of the building, the wedding planner's enthusiastic chatter about seating plans and logistics, there was an awkwardness among the three of us that I've never felt before. Something strained in the conversation, Mila struggling to meet my eye.

Back at the van, I pause for a moment outside, trying to prepare myself for seeing Zeph for the first time. Last night, as he'd stumbled into bed, I'd pretended to be asleep, delaying the inevitable. As I'd left this morning, he was still in bed and I'd slipped out, unnoticed.

Steeling myself, I push open the door. ‘Zeph? You there?'

No reply. No Woody either. All I can see is Zeph's laptop open on the table, a cup of coffee sat beside it, half drunk.

Relief trickles through me, but it doesn't last long. As I walk to the sink to pour a glass of water, I notice something odd on the screen of Zeph's laptop.

A satellite image of a map.

I move closer, focusing on the bubble sitting just above it.

My face is inside.

Peering closer at the screen, I slowly put the two together – my face and the map – and it clicks. I realise what the satellite image represents: an aerial view of Penn and Mila's wedding venue.

I swallow, not quite able to take it in: Zeph's been tracking me.

‘Hey, you're back.'

I startle, my hand shooting out to snap the screen of the laptop closed.

Slowly, I turn. Zeph's there, in the doorway, a carrier bag in one hand, Woody's lead in the other. Heat crawls up my cheeks. ‘Hey,' I say, after a beat. ‘Where've you been?'

‘Just popped out for some milk, a few other bits. Didn't think you'd be back so soon.'

I shrug. ‘I left Penn and Mila to it, wasn't feeling well.'

‘I bet … last night.' His laugh dies in his throat as he clocks the laptop.

Pulling up the screen, I tip it towards him, my heart drumming in my chest. ‘I wanted to ask you about this. You—' I stumble over my words. ‘You've been tracking my phone.'

Nothing on his face. Not even a flicker. ‘So?' Hoisting the carrier bag onto the counter, Zeph starts offloading the contents into the cupboard. A can of butterbeans. Two packets of rice. ‘It's what you do, so if something happened, you'd know where each other are.'

I falter at his breezy tone. ‘But you never said you'd set it up, and I don't have you tracked on my phone, so I can do the same.'

‘Never got round to doing mine, and I did tell you about tracking yours. Ages ago. You probably weren't really listening because it's about tech.' Zeph smiles, but I can't train my lips to return it. I think for a moment, try to conjure the conversation in my mind .

I can't.

‘Okay, but why were you tracking me now? I told you that I was going to the wedding venue with Penn and Mila. Hardly warrants a virtual search party.'

Turning, Zeph looks at me, brow furrowed, as if he's wrestling with what he's about to say. ‘You want the truth?' he says finally, his voice soft. ‘I'm worried about you, Kier. What happened last night, you pushing me.'

Pushing me.

My hands are shaking. ‘I pushed you because you slammed me against the wall, Zeph. I was trying to get you away from me. You were hurting me.' I blink and I'm back there – the sharp jarring pain as my back hit the wall.

Anger flashes across his face. ‘I wasn't trying to hurt you, Kier. I was leaning in to kiss you, wipe away that stupid, drunken argument, but you flipped, started going on about

Romy.'

‘No.' Panic creeps into my voice. ‘ You mentioned Romy, Zeph, not me. You said I was acting like her.'

‘That? I wasn't talking about her.' He's speaking slowly, like there's a full stop between each word. It's making me feel strange. Stupid. A child. ‘I told you the other day. What I had with her, it doesn't compare to us. She wasn't the kind of person I'd ever want to be with.'

I blink, utterly confused, my heart now thumping in my ears.

The conversation is twisting and turning like water in a river, slipping out of my control. I think about what I'd read the other day.

They'd have these fights. She'd accuse him of messing with her mind.

‘Hey, let's not argue, not now. All the wedding stress probably doesn't help.' Zeph pulls me towards him, conciliatory. ‘I was thinking, I know we were planning on staying for the summer, but maybe it's best we leave after the wedding. Penn and Mila will be on honeymoon anyway.' He murmurs thoughts on where we could go.

Scandinavia. Eastern Europe. France.

He pulls me in closer. His hand works its way beneath my top, his thumb ring digging into the soft skin of my back, and something crystallises in my mind.

A half-formed thought becoming whole.

My pulse catches in my throat as I replay his words in my head, lock on one sentence.

She wasn't the kind of person I'd ever want to be with.

The past tense. Zeph referred to Romy in the past tense.

My mind loops back to another conversation.

It isn't the first time.