to help, so I hope you’ll let me.”
“Take your dog with you. And find out who it belongs to.”
“Dog! Come!”
The dog didn’t move.
“Looks like he prefers your company.” Ink took Tay’s empty mug to the kitchen sink with his and walked out.
Tay pushed to his feet and made his way to his room. A couple of tablets and he’d feel better. As soon as his parents’ ship had sailed, he was getting rid of Ink and his bloody dog. Except Dog followed him into his bedroom, jumped up on the bed and was wagging his tail. Tay had just pulled open his bedside drawer to get his tablets when the noise started upstairs and he groaned.
Whoever lived above him often banged around and had the TV on too loud, but Tay didn’t have the energy to climb the stairs to ask them to quieten it down. He’d left a polite note in the hall, but it hadn’t made any difference. To be fair, he was ultra-sensitive to noise and always felt on the edge of a headache.
He slumped on his bed with the bag of pills in his hand, then lurched when he saw Ink at the door.
“What the hell is that racket?” Ink asked. “Are they teaching rhinos to dance?”
“TV, I think.”
“Do they do that all the time?”
“A few times a week.” Fortunately, not when his parents had been there.
“I’ll go up and speak to them.”
Ink’s gaze dropped to the small plastic Ziploc bag Tay was holding, then he walked out without a word. Tay took four of the pills and swallowed them down with water before he hid the bag in his sock drawer. He curled up on the bed with his back to the door. He’d wait to see if he needed the earplugs.
A few minutes later, the sound decreased in volume. Maybe Ink would be good for something. Tay swallowed hard. Apart from the other thing he had in mind. As if I’m brave enough to let that happen. He lay waiting for the world to uncurl.
Chapter Four
INK WASN’T GOING TO UNPACK. There was a small cupboard with shelves in the room, so he could have put his stuff away, but he didn’t. The need to be ready to leave in an instant, with everything he owned, was a hard habit to break. Maybe he’d never be able to break it.
The one thing he held in his mind above everything else—was that his life could come undone in an instant.
The wrong word uttered.
Getting into trouble through no fault of his own.
Someone recognising him.
He had a legend. That’s what George, his offender manager, had called it. Ink thought it was like being a spy and that’s what he pretended he was. He had to learn his history, know it as well as if it had actually happened, continue to live it, no matter what. A new name, two years added to his age and a new past would give him a future. If he fucked up, he was fucked. Simple as that.
So he wasn’t going to unpack. At the moment, the promise of a roof over his head and food in his stomach was worth putting up with Tay being an arsehole, but even Ink had his limits. The chance to wash everything, including his sleeping bag and the clothes he was currently wearing, wasn’t something he intended to resist. The priority was washing himself.
The pleasure of a hot shower in a smart, clean bathroom with no mould, no cracked tiles, no stained shower tray, no danger lurking nearby, almost made him want to cry. He’d done the best he could in the squat with no running water.
He dried himself with his small hand towel and had a shave. When Ink caught sight of his face in the mirror, he shuddered. He only ever saw a distorted version of himself. Twisted. Spoilt. But he still saw too much. Alongside his features ran a sense of betrayal, a mix of anger, fear, loneliness, vulnerability and sadness. Nothing that brought him comfort. Not a face anyone could love, because once they knew the truth, they’d leave him. More than leave him. They’d betray him.
If Tay knew who he was, he’d tell him to go. Ink didn’t think there was anyone in the entire country who’d want him around if they knew his real name. Twelve years ago, his twelve-year-old face had been all over the TV and the papers. People who didn’t know him wanted him dead. He was