Chapters (45)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- Prologue
- 2046
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- About the Author
‘WIFE-BEATER,’ Harry’s foot lifts and the big man bends down in one smooth motion to grip Ben’s top and lifts him bodily with one hand to hold him an inch in front of his face. ‘COWARD . . . MAGGOT . . .’ Spittle hits Ben’s lips. ‘WORTHLESS LITTLE MAN . . .’ He shakes Ben, one-handed and with ease. Ragging back and forth. ‘RAPIST . . .’
Ben reaches the nadir of despair. Time slows to a state that he’s had three times before. Everything in perfect clarity but fuelled by unspent rage, loss, rejection and hurt. He snaps with pure, unbridled fury that has his fist smashing into Harry’s nose and following through with lashing blows one after the other. Harry staggers back from the unexpected onslaught. Up to now it was easy, but now it becomes work and the soldier rallies to counter with more devastating punches that hammer into Ben’s already bruised and battered head. Months of training. Months of being thrown about by Safa and Harry and although there was no effort from Ben, the lessons sunk in. The constant reminders to lift his guard. To block and counter. To aim and pivot when he hits. To move and weave. To grip, twist, heave, throw and fight like a professional.
The juxtaposition is stark. Ben’s ability to fight and stay coldly detached are mixed with the wild rage driving him on and it makes Harry fight harder and harder still. For minutes they go at it. Moving round the room with brutal explosions of violence that slam fists into faces, heads, bodies and limbs. Locks are applied and countered. Throws are attempted and thwarted. The blood flows and mixes with the sweat pouring from their faces. This isn’t a beating now. This isn’t a lesson being given. This is a fight. A hard, gritty, nasty fight between two men who know what they are doing. The years of experience and the lack of rage give Harry the edge and he is forced to inflict injury to slow his opponent.
Confusion grows inside Ben. Fear and worry. Steph told everyone those things? She knew he was Ben Ryder? It fuels him. The idea of it, but as shocking as it is, somehow it makes sense. He asked Safa to tell him about Steph and she clammed up. Ben knew Steph was having an affair and figured that was the thing Safa was holding back. A swirling mix of memories and emotions. Safa and Harry teaching him how to fight. Steph’s coldness and biting tone. Safa refusing to talk about Steph and becoming almost aggressive every time Ben mentioned her. ‘This is who I am . . . I want my life . . . I want to be with Steph.’ Safa hit him. She hit him across the face when he said he wanted to be with Steph. Safa came into his room.