DUNESY

“Who the fuck are you looking at?” Darren spat his question towards the passenger seat like venom. Lilah's face felt hot, her heart raced. They were driving down Pāpāmoa Beach Road, houses and beach accesses became a blur. “What? No one, it's no one, I don't know who you're…” SMACK! Darren's left hand came off the steering wheel and jabbed Lilah's right cheekbone. Her head recoiled, an involuntary gasp escaped. Lilah tentatively cupped her cheek with her right hand. Her chin fell to her chest. She knew not to look at him, she'd learned that the hard way before. He'd see the look in her eyes, the disgust, and he'd have another go till he wiped that look right off her swollen face. Her head throbbed, her neck ached. “You know I don't like you looking at other men, yet you do! Are you trying to hurt me? Are you trying to upset me?” The voice of reason arrived, he loved to justify his actions. It was never his fault. Eyes focused intently on the road, his hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white. The polyurethane groaned under the pressure. Lilah wondered how much it would take to rip the wheel straight out of the dashboard. She tried to still her trembling hands; he hated any sign that made her look like a victim. “Stop being such a fucking slut and keep your eyes down for once!” And then the directive, the command, his rule. Lilah didn't know the man who had been casually walking his dog. She hadn't had time to register his features, let alone recognise him. A mere daydream, absent-mindedness, a mistake. The stranger was yet another reason, in a sea of many, who haunted her.