With a gasp of utter horror, she looked over at him. He wasn’t moving. Ironically, the blood appeared largely to have missed him, landing mainly on Matty and Julian as they’d exited first. But then he moved – like a leopard leaping from a tree, he was suddenly upon them, in the very midst of the crowd, pushing them back. Several of the men staggered back, out of the way, but on others, fists were pulled back and punches began to fly at Kit. They swarmed him.

‘Stop!’ Clover screamed, unaware she was screaming. ‘Stop!’

Several white flashes dazzled her, popping in the blackness of the night, and she saw people were taking photographs and filming them. Her hands rose automatically as she staggered towards them. ‘Stop! Stop this!’

Several more people ran off, but it made no difference. Kit was still being attacked by four men. His suit jacket had ripped, his arms held back by three of them as the biggest of all punched him in the stomach, doubling him over.

‘Stop!’ Clover screamed, lurching towards them and into the melee. She felt the heat of the fight, the visceral tension like fibres binding them all together. Her flailing hands gripped the hair of one of the men holding him, and she yanked it back as hard as she could. The man buckled and twisted, opening up a space. A fist was heading straight for her.

‘No!’ The roar now didn’t come from her. It was too deep for her body to contain. She felt the contact of bone upon bone, a terrible thrashing of limbs exploding like fireworks in the corner of her eye for several long seconds.

And then the world, closing down in diminishing circles. The last thing she saw was a pair of blazing blue eyes looking down at her. Until there was only black.

Chapter Twelve

‘I think she’s waking up.’ Matty’s voice sounded distant.

Clover tried opening her eyes but there was resistance, like pushing against a door with towels on the floor. ‘Aah,’ she gasped, wincing at the light.

‘Clo, can you hear me?’ Matty asked.

‘Yes,’ Clover mumbled. Her hands automatically went to touch her face but something – someone – applied pressure to her arms. ‘Don’t move. Try to be still.’

‘Where am I?’ Her words were indistinct, as blurry as her vision.

‘In bed.’

Clover frowned. The voice was deeper. Johnny?

‘Do you remember what happened?’

Did she? It hurt even to think. She felt battered.

Bone on bone. The memory flashed through her, making her gasp. Startle.

Her eyes opened. Only one of them. The other—

Her hand flew to her face again before Matty could stop it. There was something soft – a dressing? – over her right eye. And her cheek came to meet her hand at an angle she didn’t recognize.