Written in the Scars (The Estate Series Book 4) by Mel Sherratt Page B

him pay.
    But in the back of his mind, Sam knew he’d do no such thing. Scott Johnstone was above his league. He’d realised that as soon as he’d hitched up with him after Scott had been released from prison. Maybe this might work out better for him.
    He lay down on the bed. ‘Fuck!’
    ‘Language, Sam, please!’ A nurse turned to him with a sigh.
    ‘Yeah, pipe down,’ said the man in the bed opposite. ‘My dog makes less noise than you.’
    ‘Piss off,’ Sam said.
    ‘Mr Harvey! Show some respect.’
    Sam glared at the nurse before turning on his side, his back towards them. He wished he could go home, just walk right on out of there and sort this mess out. He could if he wanted to, discharge himself. But he knew that it would be to his own detriment. He didn’t want to be disfigured if another operation could save his finger.
    He’d just have to bide his time until he was able again, and think about how to get out of this mess.
     
     

 
    Chapter Thirteen
     
    Donna had her head down when Owen walked into Shop&Save, so didn’t even notice him coming in. It wasn’t until he came to the till that she looked up.
    ‘Hi!’ she almost croaked, then coughed to clear her throat.
    ‘Well, hello.’ Owen handed her a newspaper and a bar of chocolate. ‘Fancy seeing you in here.’
    ‘Fancy.’ Donna felt her skin flushing immediately. Christ, what was it with her and this man?
    ‘It’s a bit late for a morning paper,’ she added. ‘It’s nearly lunchtime.’
    ‘Precisely why I thought you might like to go and grab a bite to eat?’ He placed a few coins in her outstretched hand, lingering to curl her fingers around them. ‘If I don’t come to you, you’ll never find time to meet me. I can have you there and back in an hour, if they can spare you?’
    ‘I … I … well, yes, I suppose they can.’ Donna ran a hand through her hair, glad that she always made an effort to look smart, even if she did have to wear a green overall.
    ‘Come on, Donna,’ a voice came from behind them. ‘Hurry up, won’t you? I’ve got a bet on a horse at twelve and I want to be back at the bookies to watch it.’
    ‘Wait your turn, Bernard.’ Donna ran Owen’s things through the till. ‘It’s not often you’re kept waiting, is it?’
    ‘I’ll be dead at this rate before you’re done.’
    ‘That doesn’t sound like a bad thing,’ Donna muttered under her breath. Owen was trying to keep his face straight as she shooed him away. ‘If I can get off, I’ll see you in … thirty minutes?’
    ‘If you can get off?’ It was his turn to speak quietly. Owen moved closer so that only she could hear. ‘Now, that sounds like something I’m very interested in seeing.’
    Understanding his meaning, her skin flushed even more. As Owen pulled back his head and roared with laughter, she noticed black hair curled up over the top of his T-shirt again. She gulped: she shouldn’t be having the thoughts that were running through her mind right now.
    ‘Away with you,’ she told him.
    ‘I’ll be waiting outside.’
    He winked at her before leaving, making her blush again. ’Right, then, Bernard,’ she turned to him all of a fluster, ‘your usual is it?’
    ‘Yes, and about bloody time.’ 
    Donna served him and sent him on his way.
    When she’d finished refilling a shelf nearby, Sarah tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Who was that I saw you talking to?’
    ‘That was the guy I was telling you about.’
    ‘You mean … him ?’
    ‘Yes, it was Owen.’
    ‘Ohmigod, he’s divine.’ Sarah practically squealed. ‘Are you sure he’s interested in you?’
    ‘Oi, you cheeky cow. Yes, he is.’ Donna grinned. ‘Actually, I can hardly believe it myself. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think? Someone like him wanting to go out with someone like me?’
    ‘What on earth do you mean by that?’
    ‘I’m not exactly a catch, am I? Forty-two years old, living in rented accommodation, with nothing to call my