Page 52 of Better the Devil

Empty. The cast ofLoose Womenprattled away on the telly about some old shite, but there was no one here. No Olivia.

Through in the kitchen, Taggart whined. Logan opened the door, and the dog shot out, zipped between his legs, and went tearing up the stairs.

The kitchen was empty, too, so Logan followed the dog, thundering up the staircase even as Taggart dunted Olivia’s bedroom door open with the top of his head.

Jack arrived at the door a little breathless. Olivia sat perched on the end of her bed, looking up at him, patting the panting wee dug, who had flopped onto his back with his legs in the air.

The room was as untidy as always. Shoes lay scattered across the floor. Clothes trailed from the back of a computer chair. There were enough Irn Bru and Coke cans on her desk to build a decent-sized pyramid.

But she was here. Safe. Alone.

Logan swallowed down the rising tide of nausea that had been building the whole drive over. He nodded to her, suddenly aware of how all this must look.

‘Alright?’

Olivia looked back at him impassively. ‘Yep. You?’

‘Yep,’ Logan confirmed.

‘What are you doing here?’

It was a fair question. Jack wasn’t sure he wanted to answer it. Not fully. Not yet.

‘I, eh, I just thought I’d check in on you.’

‘Well, I’m fine,’ Olivia told him. ‘Just took some painkillers. I was just going back to sleep.’

‘Right. Aye.’ Logan looked over at her bedroom window. The light from outside was spilling through them, making the room bright. ‘You not shut the curtains?’

‘No, the light doesn’t really bother me,’ Olivia said.

But there was something. A blip. A tiny hesitation that made the response feel off.

‘You sure you’re alright?’ Logan asked.

She rolled her eyes and laughed, then realised this was too far and immediately dialled it all down again. ‘I’m fine. Just… my headache. Might be flu or something. You should go before?—’

From beyond the bathroom door, just a few feet away from where Logan stood, came the sound of a toilet flushing.

That look of panic that Logan had seen in his reflection earlier was now mirrored on Olivia’s face.

A tap sluiced on and off again.

A lock slid aside.

Logan faced the door just as the handle turned.

Just as the door inched open.

Just as a face from his nightmares stepped out from behind it.

‘Don’t hurt him!’ Olivia cried, although Logan couldn’t tell who she was talking to. He didn’t much care, either. The bastard was here. Bosco Maximuke was here, in his house. In hishome.

Jack lunged, throwing himself at him. Hands like shovels slammed into the Russian’s chest, driving him backwards into the bathroom.

Bosco wailed as he was slammed straight through the shower screen, tearing it from its hinges. He flailed wildly, trying to stay upright, and his hands found the trailing hose of the removable shower attachment.

It was wrenched away by Logan before he could get a proper grip. His head hit the tiled wall, then his arse hit the plastic shower tray. He looked up in time to see, but not fast enough to react to, the shower head rushing towards him.