Hard by Lily Harlem, Natalie Dae Read Free Book Online

the old man next door. I hurried inside,
slammed the door, locked it, and pressed my back against it. Let out a long
breath, fortifying myself for more checking.
    I went through the rooms, ticking off the things on my mental
list. Yes, everything was as I’d left it. Yes, I could
relax now. I went to the windows and resisted closing the curtains, deciding to
try what Stephan had suggested earlier and close them an hour after it had got
dark. That hour would be a long one, with me sitting on the floor in the corner
of my bedroom, no doubt, curled up, head down, waiting for the alarm on my
mobile to bleep, telling me I could get up and close myself in.
    But it had to be done , didn’t it? I had
no choice.
    If I wanted to get better, I had no bloody choice.

 
    Chapter
Two

 
    Then

 
    The man standing next to me in the courtroom smelt of musty old
books with a hint of days’-old aftershave. He could be anyone’s father, a man I wouldn’t normally look twice at if I passed him on the
street. Short brown hair brushed back from his pasty face to reveal a high
forehead. Hazel eyes and deep pink lips that appeared on the
thin side owing to the grimace that contorted his face. Average chap, average height. Average everything. Yet there
was something about him that intrigued me, had me staring at him a little
harder than I usually would. Perhaps the air of danger coming off him was what
had snagged my initial attention, made me take notice of his appearance.
    He stared ahead at the proceedings, and I wondered if he was the
same as me, someone who had strolled in off the street, hoping he’d get lucky
and be admitted to a courtroom so he could take in the details of other
people’s lives to save him having to inspect his own. That was something I’d only acknowledged about myself recently, that I was in
need of a distraction, anything to shift my inability to stop thinking about
how boring my life had become. I used to party. I used to be fun. Since
breaking up with a guy named John two years ago, I’d changed, was this woman I no longer knew, who had no spark or even the merest
hint that anyone would be interested in me. Relationships seemed so futile, and
given the pick of men in my circles, I wouldn’t have
been happy with any of them anyway.
    I’d walked past
the courthouse on numerous occasions, staring at the grey-bricked façade,
letting my mind wander to what happened inside the large building, who had committed
crimes and why. Law wasn’t my thing, but crime
interested me, and the pull to just walk in and join the public gallery had
been squashed too many times to count.
    Today, though, had been different. I’d walked in around ten minutes ago, head held high as if I did this kind of thing
every day, and chose a random courtroom doorway to breeze through. There was no
guard outside, and I knew I shouldn’t just walk in,
but I did. I hadn’t expected it to be so full — standing room only was all that
had been available — nor had I expected to be beside this man who oozed menace that
transferred to me and left me antsy. I should leave, leave and go home where I
knew what would happen next and how my day would end. But being here held a
certain charm, an excitement, and it was also a lure, daring me to stay, to do
something different, get a new career going. Here wasn’t me — and being me was something I wanted to get far
away from, if only for an hour or two.
    The man shuffled, nudging me with his elbow, the movement a
painful jab to my ribs. I wanted to say something to him, something witty yet
at the same time a reprimand that would ensure he didn’t touch me again, but
the court was quiet except for one of the solicitors asking questions and a
frail-looking, middle-aged woman on the stand giving one-word answers. My sharp
response would be heard , and I might be asked to
leave. I nudged him back, and he looked at me with narrowed eyes and a harsher
grimace than the one he’d displayed before.