Heartbreaker (Brennan and Esposito Series) by Tania Carver

1
    G emma Adderley had had enough.
    She had taken everything she possibly could, endured everything that had been slung at her, and was scared, humiliated, broken, hurt. Hurt above all. In so many ways.
    As the front door slammed, shutting out the outside world once again, Gemma looked round the house. At her possessions. At her life. What was it Robert De Niro had said in that film she had watched once when Roy was out? Never get attached to anything you wouldn’t walk out on in thirty seconds if you had to. Something like that. She sat at the kitchen table and looked at the walls, the floor. The cooker he had wanted her chained to. The fridge he had told her to keep fully stocked, even if she didn’t always have the money to do it. They weren’t her possessions. He had bought them. Had tried to make them possess her. There was nothing in the room – the flat – she wouldn’t be able to walk out on. That she didn’t want to walk out on.
    Except Carly. And that was why she was taking her daughter with her.
    Heart thumping, Gemma stood up, went into the living room. Thought once more of Roy. What he would say to her if he knew she was planning this. Do to her. The sins she would be committing. The punishment he would inflict – no, not him, not his punishment, God’s, for daring to go against His will. And knew she wouldn’t face that again. Never again. She opened the door, gripping the handle, trying not to notice how much her fingers were trembling.
    Carly was lying on the floor watching TV. Some unreal reality show. The kind she could only watch when Roy was out. She turned as Gemma entered, her eyes as usual wide, head and body flinching. Expecting God’s wrath. Expecting to go straight to hell. Gemma’s heart broke every time she saw her daughter do that. She had wondered where she had seen eyes like her daughter’s before and the answer had come to her one night when she was watching the news. They’d shown footage of some war zone in the Middle East, tortured refugees making their way slowly out of the city, trying to forget what they had seen, trying to carry on, and she’d seen the same things in the children’s eyes that were in Carly’s.
    A war zone. Just about sums it up, thought Gemma. Straight to hell. How could you fear going there when you were already living in it?
    ‘Hey,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light, ‘we’re going out.’
    Carly sat up, looked round nervously. She had heard the door slam shut as well. It was usually a sign for them both to relax. Get together, find a shared strength to keep them going. But this was new. This was unheard of for the little girl. What her mother was proposing was against the rules. And she knew there would be punishments.
    ‘But…’ Carly’s eyes darted to the door. ‘We can’t…’
    ‘We can,’ said Gemma, hoping she sounded calm and in control, fearing she didn’t. ‘And we are. Come on.’
    Carly stood up, dumbly obeying, even if it was against the rules. ‘Where…’
    Gemma summoned up a smile for her daughter. Only for her daughter, she thought. It had been a long time since she had smiled for herself. ‘Somewhere nice. Somewhere safe.’
    Carly said nothing.
    ‘Come on,’ said Gemma, holding out her hand for the girl to take.
    Carly, clearly not happy but not wanting to go against her mother’s wishes, walked towards her. Then turned back to the TV. ‘I’d better turn it off. If I don’t turn it off…’
    ‘Leave it on,’ said Gemma.
    Carly stared at her.
    ‘Yeah, leave it on.’ Gemma smiled. That little act of rebellion had emboldened her. With Carly she turned, left the room.
    She had already packed their bags, hidden them under the bed. She pulled them out.
    ‘Are we… are we going on holiday?’ asked Carly.
    ‘Yeah,’ said Gemma, ‘that’s right. A holiday.’
    ‘Where?’ asked Carly, excitement building despite her fear. ‘Somewhere hot and sunny? Like Benidorm?’
    It was one of the