Around the time he parked outside his apartment building, Adam McGregor began to feel the pain in his shredded knuckles. He’d been oblivious till now, his outrage at Izzy’s actions trumping all physical pain. Then, suddenly, the pain was there, and it was agony. Flaps of skin hung loose, and Adam could see the exposed flesh underneath, oozing blood. The more he looked at it, the sorer it felt.
He got out of the van. The apartment block rose above him. His gaze zeroed in on the second-floor balcony, third from the right. The balcony of his and Izzy’s home.
But not anymore.
Everything had been going so well these last few years.
Although he’d grown up in a block of flats in Glasgow, which superficially resembled his current home, the two places were completely different.
Home in Scotland had been Maryhill. Everywhere had a place like that. In the U.S., they were the housing projects. In Ireland, council estates. In Glasgow, they were the schemes. The poorest, most deprived parts of the city.
Where Adam grew up, the neighbourhood’s walls were graffitied with the names of local teens who’d gone to prison for murder. You were taking your life in your hands if you went out after dark, especially if you were a man. That was how Adam had earned his scar. A slash across the face by a lad from a rival gang. Typical Saturday night brawls in the schemes.
Adam had got out of there. He’d built a new life, started his own company and got a girl. Things were going so well… until now.
A bitter taste filled Adam’s mouth, as he thought of how he’d fled Dun Laoghaire like a loser. He was glad none of the lads from Glasgow had seen that. He’d never have been able to hold his head up again.
Adam cracked his neck, looked around the car park.
The sound of a copper’s car in Dun Laoghaire had spooked him. It made him think of PC Jim McDaid from Police Scotland. Adam hadn’t thought of that bastard for a while, but he’d never forget McDaid’s walrus moustache and garlic breath, as he slapped cuffs on Adam’s wrists and whispered, You’re done, you wee bastard, before shoving Adam into the back of his car.
Even now, the memory of it sent Adam into a rage. The injustice of it, horrible, making him gag, like oil in his mouth…
Adam hadn’t known exactly what he was doing when he broke the glass in Izzy’s car and jumped in his van. And he’d no idea where he was going as he drove away.
He should have been taking Izzy home with him, but instead she was holed up in her aunt’s house, laughing at him.
With a final glance at his gory fist, Adam walked across the car park, entered the building, and made his way up the stairs to his floor.
He let himself into the apartment and closed the door. The place felt just like earlier, when he arrived home.
He’d left work early to surprise Izzy. It turned out he was the one getting a surprise. As soon as Adam set foot inside the place, he’d been struck by how empty it felt. Izzy should have been there, but she wasn’t. He’d called her name, got no answer, and then seen that stuff was missing. Clothes, shoes, laptop. Her precious handbags, which she spent so many hours making.
She hadn’t said a word to him.
Just vanished.
There was only one place she could have gone, so he’d followed her straight to the house she’d inherited from her aunt.
Well, that hadn’t worked out so well.
Adam made his way to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of ice from the freezer, and held it to his knuckles.
The bouquet of flowers he’d bought Izzy sat on the counter.
He went back to the sitting room, seeing that Izzy had left behind the set of accountancy books he’d bought her. He’d expected a little gratitude, but no. She’d hardly opened the books. It was like she wanted to be a waitress forever. She never even listened to his suggestion that she study bookkeeping while working at his company.
His heart felt physically sore, as if a pro boxer had taken it out of his chest and gone ten rounds with it.
Izzy had to come back.
This was crazy.
She couldn’t walk out on him. He wouldn’t be made a fool of by a woman.
He made his way to the bedroom, to the dresser on Izzy’s side of the bed. The drawer had been full of her stuff. Some was still there. Some was gone.
Adam pulled the drawer out of the unit and upturned it on the bed. All that was left was junk. She’d taken everything she needed.
Except…
Adam’s heart soared as he realised that Izzy hadn’t taken everything she needed. He smiled bitterly.
She’d be back.
And he wouldn’t let her get away again.