_OceanofPDF.com_The_Girl_on_the_Train_-_Paula_Hawkins

pulls out a beer. He looks over at me. “You want one?”
I shake my head.
“No, best not, I suppose.”
I hardly hear him. I’m calculating whether I can reach the front door
from here before he can get hold of me. If it’s just on the latch, I reckon I
could make it. If he’s locked it, then I’d be in trouble. I pitch myself
forward and run. I get into the hallway—my hand is almost on the door
handle—when I feel the bottle hit the back of my skull. There’s an
explosion of pain, white before my eyes, and I crumple to my knees. His
fingers twist into my hair as he grabs a fistful and pulls, dragging me
back into the living room, where he lets go. He stands above me,
straddling me, one foot on either side of my hips. His daughter is still in
his arms, but Anna is at his side, tugging at her.
“Give her to me, Tom, please. You’re going to hurt her. Please, give
her to me.”
He hands the wailing Evie over to Anna.
I can hear Tom talking, but it seems like he’s a long way away, or as
though I’m hearing him through water. I can make out the words but they
somehow don’t seem to apply to me, to what’s happening to me.
Everything is happening at one remove.
“Go upstairs,” he says. “Go into the bedroom and shut the door. You
mustn’t call anyone, OK? I mean it, Anna. You don’t want to call
anyone. Not with Evie here. We don’t want things to turn nasty.” Anna
doesn’t look down at me. She clutches the child to her chest, steps over
me and hurries away.
Tom bends down, slips his hands into the waistband of my jeans,
grabs hold of them and drags me along the floor into the kitchen. I’m
kicking out with my legs, trying to get a hold of something, but I can’t. I
can’t see properly—tears are stinging my eyes, everything is a blur. The
pain in my head is excruciating as I bump along the floor, and I feel a
wave of nausea come over me. There’s hot, white pain as something
connects with my temple. Then nothing.