Tastes Like Fear (D.I. Marnie Rome 3) Read Online Free Page B

waiting, to see what he’d do. We were dressed right, sitting where we were told, eating his crappy food, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough.
    ‘Ashleigh.’ His voice was soft, like it’d been chalked, the way a weightlifter chalks his hands before a big lift. ‘Ashleigh.’
    She turned, not smiling now. She’d tried to lick the Vaseline off her lips, but it was still there at the edges of her mouth, winking at him.
    ‘Come here.’
    Under the table, May squeezed my fingers.
    Don’t don’t don’t …
    ‘Come here,’ Harm repeated.
    Ashleigh walked back to the table, not slinking now, jerking like she was on a leash. He looked into her face. He was so close she must’ve felt his breath. He was the only one breathing; the rest of us didn’t dare. Even Christie was holding her breath. The candles burned straight up to the ceiling in the sudden scooped-out silence.
    ‘Did you hurt your mouth?’ His voice stayed chalky soft.
    Ashleigh jerked her head from side to side. Her tits swelled under her shirt and she tried to stop them, tried to hold it together, but she couldn’t. He wouldn’t let her.
    ‘Did you hurt your eyes?’
    She jerked her head.
    ‘Are they dry? Cracked?’
    And again.
    ‘Then why is there petroleum jelly on your face?’
    ‘I … no. Yes. P-please. Sorry.’ She hit each word in turn, hoping to land on the safe one.
    Harm wasn’t listening. He held out a hand to Christie, who picked up her paper napkin and passed it across the table, making the candles crouch and shudder.
    He spat on to the napkin. Straightened to his full height.
    The whole room tilted away, dragging our shadows towards him like he was swallowing us up.
    Ashleigh hadn’t moved. She was very little now, with him standing over her.
    He rubbed at her mouth with the napkin. Spat again. Rubbed at her eyelids. Like he was trying to scrub her out. She let him do it. She had that much sense, at least. She was hunching to make her tits look smaller. Good . Spat. And rubbed.
    When he was done, Harm dropped the balled-up napkin on the table.
    Then he picked up a candle.
    My fingers twitched under the table. May stroked her thumb across my knuckles, trying to keep me quiet. It should’ve been the other way around, me looking out for her. I was the only one he wouldn’t touch, the only one with any power, but I was scared, I was always too scared.
    Ashleigh was standing stone-still, her shadow squirming at her feet like she’d wet herself.
    Harm held the candle so close, the whole side of her face was yellow.
    I took a pinch of air through my nose because I couldn’t not-breathe any longer but I didn’t want to pull the flame into her hair.
    He looked at her. ‘Better.’ His voice hadn’t stopped being soft. He never shouted. He never had to. ‘Now, what do you say?’
    ‘Th-thank you.’
    ‘No, not that.’ Each word made the flame flap closer to her face. ‘What do you say?’
    ‘S-sorry.’
    ‘Say it to everyone.’
    She had to turn towards the table to do as he said, putting her face into the flame. He held the candle steady and I could smell her skin scalding like milk, his spit drying on her face …
    I could smell his spit on her.
    ‘Sorry. I’m s-sorry.’
    ‘For what?’ Harm said.
    ‘Spoiling this.’ She was crying. The flame licked at her face, finding her tears, making them sizzle. ‘I’m sorry for spoiling this.’
    ‘That’s better.’ Harm put the candle down. He opened his arms and she fell into them, landing on his chest with a howl. ‘Good girl.’ He stroked her hair, petting her. ‘Good girl.’
    He was looking right at me.
    After a bit, he eased Ashleigh to arm’s length and let her go.
    Don’t, don’t let him turn his back …
    He’d turned his back on Grace, last night.
    Christie started to clear the plates from the table, breaking the silence, jerking sound back into the room. Harm smiled at Ashleigh and pointed her towards the sink. Her face had sunk in on itself,