by Sofia Daniel
Mother.
And I would keep ringing until she answered my bloody calls.
Chapter 24
My stomach growled. Hunger, trepidation and impotent anger seized its muscles in a punishing grip. There was more to Lady Liddell’s story. A reason why she had faked a potentially damaging document about Mr. Burgh while still keeping him around as the headmaster. Maybe he knew the reason, maybe he didn’t, but Lady Liddell seemed to have a personal grudge against mother.
I pulled out my phone and checked its screen. One bar, which would make for a choppy conversation, the last thing I needed for such an important discussion. I walked to the door, ready for another confrontation with Lady Liddell. When I opened it and tried to step out, a woman I had never met stood in the doorway.
“Where’s Mr. Burgh?” I asked.
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“He’s my guardian,” I snapped.
Her lips tightening, the woman stepped aside. “Then I suggest you give him a call, just like everybody else.”
“Fine.” I strode into the hallway with my head high. She wasn’t to know that Lady Liddell had just dropped the hydrogen bomb of all familial revelations. It was Luke-I-am-your-father-level shocking with a side-order of disgust. Disgust that she could fabricate something so horrific, age the paper, and take it out of her vault just to make me leave the academy.
Much like the guest tower, the east tower had a short hallway. I stormed down the stairs, ignoring the gaping students as they passed. One of them offered congratulatory remarks that I’d given Elizabeth the smacking that she deserved.
The clocktower stuck one, drowning out the clomp of my feet on the stone stairs. I checked my phone, but there wasn’t enough reception on this side of the castle to make a call.
At the bottom of the stairwell, I flung the door open and galloped across the ground floor. Students paused to gape. Right now, I resented the lack of privacy. Elizabeth’s shenanigans had made me the center of attention and as soon as I discovered the reason behind her and Lady Liddell’s animosity, I would strike back at them both with the force of a sledgehammer.
But I needed to speak to Mother, first.
I checked the smartphone once more. One bar flickered in and out of existence. Maybe the castle’s thick, stone walls blocked out the reception, I didn’t know. Instead of hanging around and finding a good spot, I left the castle and ran through the salted driveway in the cold, not stopping until I had passed the gates and bounded up the entrance steps of Mr. Burgh’s quarters.
The fire snap, crackled, and popped in the hearth. I lowered myself into an armchair and soaked in its heat. Ignoring my skin tingling at the extreme change in temperature, I pulled out my phone, grunted with approval at the four bars, and tapped the icon for Mom.
After several moments of ringing, the call went to voicemail.
She was either ignoring me as usual or thought I was a scammer calling about life insurance or something. I called again.
Once again, it rang out and eventually switched to voicemail.
“Mother,” I snarled. “Can’t you answer the phone for once in your life?”
The slamming of the front door made my stomach drop.
“Duncan?”
The approaching footsteps were too heavy to belong to one of the housekeeping staff, and it wasn’t Mr. Burgh. He always replied whenever I shouted. Lady Liddell probably sent a bent copper to turf me out of academy property. I picked up a poker and crept toward the door.
And waited.
The footsteps stopped.
I clenched my teeth. Whoever they belonged to was a creepy bastard. The thudding of my pulse turned my head into a boom box, muffling the ticking of the grandfather clock. Holding the poker in a double-handled grip, I forced slow breaths in and out of my nostrils, trying to quieten my panic.
A floorboard creaked from behind.
Panic exploded in my heart, and I whirled around. A man in leather I vaguely recognized from Billy Hancock’s crew lurched toward me with his arms outstretched. I swung the poker between his legs with a thwump.
“Fuck!” He doubled over, both hands cupping his crotch.
Fury filled my veins. I whacked the poker on his head hard enough to knock him out and rushed out of the room before the fucker even hit the ground.
Shit! I sprinted through the hallway toward the exit. How did Billy Hancock track me down to the academy? And how did his thugs get here so quickly?
The scent of stale beer and strong body odor filled my nostrils. From behind, strong arms grabbed me around the middle, trapping my arms. “Got ya!”
“Like fuck.” I flung my head back and slammed it into his face. Pain radiated through the back of my skull, but it was nothing compared to the agonized bellow that rattled my eardrums.
The thug released his grip, and I spun around, poker raised to do maximum damage.
“Wait!” His hand shot up.
“Why, so you can take me to Billy Hancock?”
“Your mum sent us.”
I held the poker like a baseball bat. “Why?”
“Billy’s been shot. He wants to see you one last time.”
Every ounce of blood drained from my face. People got stabbed all the time in Richley, but shootings were rare and didn’t happen to guys as high up in the hierarchy as Billy Hancock. I’d always thought of the man as invincible.
Gasping for air, I lowered the poker. “What?”
“It’s true.” He raised both hands, trying to calm me like I was an enraged bull.
A lump formed in my throat. “But he only just got out of prison.”
“It was the Nelson brothers. They didn’t want to release the turf they’d gained while Billy was inside.”
“How do I know this isn’t a trap?” If snatching me from the fashion show wasn’t an option, Billy Hancock would trick me into coming to him to face my punishment.
“Abby left you a message last night. Did you not check your voicemail?”
My heart sank. I’d switched my SIM card months ago and hadn’t thought to tell Mother my new number.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded scrap of paper. “Here, take it.”
Gripping the poker like it was the only thing protecting me from becoming a dog’s chew toy, I snatched the note.
Lilah,
Please come to London with Tom and Greg. I sent them up here to fetch you because Billy got shot last night. They’ve rushed him to surgery, but things aren’t looking too hopeful. You need to come at least to say goodbye.
Love,
Mum
The back of my throat ached, and I swallowed hard. “I tried calling her earlier.”
“She’s probably been at St. Luke’s all night.” The man raised his broad shoulders. “You know how devoted Abby is to Billy.”
I did. Mother always took Billy Handcock’s side, no matter what. Shaking off the resentful thoughts, I asked, “How are we getting there?”
A black car waited outside the gates of Mr. Burgh’s quarters, as quiet as a hearse. I stood on the doorstep, shuddering at the icy breeze swirling through my woolen blazer and hoped I was doing the right thing.
My heart weighed in my chest like a boulder. I was either walking to my death or about to witness the last moments of my stepfather, or according to Father Neapolitan’s accusations, my birth father. It didn’t matter that I despised his guts, Billy Hancock had been my only father figure.
Greg, the thug who I hadn’t attacked with the poker, placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “The sooner we set off, the sooner we can catch a flight down south.”
“Right.” I nodded and descended the steps.
Tom slumped in the front seat of the car, holding a handkerchief to his head. Tamping down the guilt roiling in my belly, I stepped into the back seat. They shouldn’t have broken into Mr. Burgh’s house if they didn’t want me to attack them with a poker.
Greg got into the driver’s seat, and the othe
r door flew open. I turned to find Maxwell peering through the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“My stepfather’s been shot.”
His gaze flickered to Greg, who snarled, “Fuck off and stop holding us up.”
Maxwell scooted inside and fastened his seatbelt.
“Bugger off,” said Greg.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Tagging along to support my girlfriend.”
My mouth fell open, presumably to deny that we had any kind of connection, but common sense clicked it shut. If this was an ambush, I would need someone to watch my back. Besides, Maxwell was enough to distract me from all the conflicting thoughts whirring through my mind.
Greg pointed a finger at Maxwell. “If you don’t fuck off right now—”
“Leave it,” I said. “He’s coming with us.”
His face hardened, but he gave me a sharp nod. Even if I was a traitor whose snitching got his boss sent to prison, I was still Billy Hancock’s daughter.
“Maxwell reached across the back seat and grabbed my hand. “Are you alright?”
A sad smile stretched across my lips. “I am now.”
Chapter 25
Maxwell held my hand the entire journey—in the car, on the plane down to London, and on the ride to St. Luke’s hospital. Just like he had during the chase across Glasgow town center, he was my pillar of support. I had been hungry earlier, when Elizabeth had attacked me, but now terror made my stomach heave.
What would I find when I got to his hospital room? A pale and emaciated Billy Hancock strapped to a bunch of machines? Or would they take me to the morgue to see his dead body?
The car pulled in outside the main entrance, a glass-fronted extension to a Victorian monstrosity of a building. It was late, and street lights illuminated the courtyard. An ambulance parked behind us, and a pair of porters eased an old man out of a wheelchair.
I swallowed hard. “Do you know which ward?”
Greg shook his head. “I can’t get hold of no one.”
Maxwell opened the door, letting in the sounds and smells of traffic. “Come on, we’ll ask at the reception desk.”
He wrapped a strong arm around my waist as he scooted through the car door onto the sidewalk, bringing me out with him. My legs felt like saplings in the wind, with Maxwell the only thing keeping me upright.
“Whatever happens, it will be alright.” Maxwell pressed a kiss on my forehead.
Gulping mouthfuls of air, I nodded and took my first step into the hospital. The walk through the maze-like structure of hallways and wards was a blur. Porters, patients, and medicals mingled with the public, creating a constant stream of silent traffic. It reminded me of long airport conveyor belts but without all the excitement and hope in the air that came from those about to go on holiday.
We found the ward—the Acute Cardiac Unit—along with the crowd of Billy’s boys spilling out into the hallway. Detective Sergeant Spears and Detective Constable Barnes who had questioned me about stabbing Sammy also stood among the masses along with four uniformed constables and a sergeant.
DS Spears met my eye but had the good sense not to say hello. Right now, I didn’t need to remind this crowd of thugs that I was responsible for Billy Hancock’s spell in prison. A fist clenched at my heart, making my breath catch.
“What’s wrong?” Maxwell pulled me to the side.
I glanced at Sammy’s boys who were too busy dealing with the police to notice me. “This was my fault.”
Maxwell frowned. “What?”
“If Billy hadn’t gone to prison, the Nelson brothers wouldn’t have shot him to protect the territory they stole.”
He cupped my cheek, raising my eyes to meet his. “I don’t know what happened between you and your stepfather, but you can’t take the blame for someone else’s actions.”
I gulped. It was nice of him to say, but he didn’t know how things worked down here.
“Are you thirsty?” He pulled a water bottle from the pocket of his blazer and unscrewed its top.
“Thanks.” I brought the bottle to my lips, letting the cool water slide down my dry tongue and throat. After a few sips, my stomach protested, and I handed it back.
He cradled my head with both hands, examining me with concerned, gray eyes. “Whatever state he’s in, it’s because he chose a dangerous profession. It’s nothing to do with anything you might have said or done, is that understood?”
My lips quirked into a smile. “What are you, my life coach?”
“It’s part of my duties as your boyfriend.” He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest for a boyfriendly hug.
At some point on the way back to Templar, I’d have to tell him to stop worming his way back to my heart. Right now, I needed his strength and support. Inhaling his masculine deep scent, it struck me as odd how many layers existed within this boy. Maybe his ‘Kendrick’ personality was really Maxwell without the flirting and bravado. It certainly wasn’t anything like the real Kendrick.
I shoved those thoughts aside and pulled back. “Thanks.”
Maxwell pressed a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t mention it. We’ll stand out here until you’re ready.”
“Let’s go.” I gave him a tight smile. If Billy Hancock was clinging onto life, I didn’t want to waste the time he had left out here.
The crowd of thugs parted for us, and the two uniformed officers at the ward’s doors blocked my entrance, muttering something about no one being allowed in unless they were family of the patient.
It was Maxwell who explained that I was Billy Hancock’s daughter, and they let us both in.
The Acute Cardiac Unit was a mausoleum of hospital wards. White walls, a hallway of white doors, and staff who sat behind their desks in silence. I would have asked for Billy Hancock’s room, but I spotted two burly police officers guarding a door twenty feet down the hallway.
My heart jumped into my thickening throat. Were they protecting him or making sure he didn’t abscond before his arrest? One of them scribbled down my name on a notebook along with the time and date. I glared up at him. What did he think this was, a crime scene?
“One visitor at a time,” said the taller officer. “Doctor’s orders.”
“Is he awake?” asked Maxwell.
“See for yourself,” replied the policeman.
With a long, deep inhale, I squared my shoulders and held my breath. My abdominal muscles tightened, calming my roiling stomach. Whatever I found in there, I had to stay calm.
“Lilah?” Maxwell placed a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m fine.” The words escaped me in a single breath. With one final glance at Maxwell, I pushed the door open and marched inside.
I had expected the whiteness. Expected the machines. Expected their blips and beeps and buzzes. But what I hadn’t expected was Billy Hancock’s sharp eyes slicing through my soul and making me feel like I was seven again and about to be dangled over snapping dogs.
His enormous frame sprawled under a thin cover, looking like he could rise up at any moment and attack.
“Lilah.” The first word came out like a curse.
Sweat broke out across my brow, and my feet fused to the floor. “Billy.”
Annoyance flickered across his pale features, and I ground my teeth. What did he expect me to call him after a lifetime of treating me like the unwanted nephew in the cupboard under the stairs?
He rasped. “Why are you standing over there?”
A cold shudder ran across my skin. If this was a fairytale, I would fully expect the figure on the bed to rip off his Billy Hancock skin and expose the hungry wolf underneath. But he was strapped to half a dozen monitors and had just survived a shooting and a surgery. This was no longer the monster of my childhood.
I edged forward and stood out of arm’s reach.
Billy Hancock closed his eyes. Maybe that show of dominance had zapped his energy.
“They set dogs on you,
I heard,” he croaked. “Were you framed by that posh Scottish bint, the one who told us where to find you?” Although feeble, his voice dripped with satisfaction.
I raised a shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Now you know what it feels like.” His fingers curled into fists.
“You’re looking well, considering.” At a time like this, there was no point in telling him that I’d been innocent of dealing cocaine, while he had been as guilty as buggery.
“Better than Stevie and Trevor Nelson.” He paused to make several shallow breaths. “They’re lying on mortuary slabs.”
I swallowed. This was what I meant about the man being invincible. He gets thrown in jail and comes out looking like the Terminator, then he gets shot, but it’s his attackers who die. There was no point in asking if Billy Hancock had regained his stolen territory. He probably took control of the Nelson brothers’ turf while waiting for the ambulance.
My tongue darted out to lick my dry lips. “Over Christmas, I looked through Mother’s old bedroom. There was a photo of you and her in Glasgow—”
“You want to know if I’m your biological father?” He opened his eyes.
I nodded.
“I could have been,” he whispered.
Without meaning to, I edged closer to the hospital bed. The scent of antiseptic mingled with Billy’s signature scent, Obsession For Men. Its spicy musk used to make my stomach lurch, but now, I felt nothing.
“Maybe if you were, I might have treated you better.” Regret shone in his eyes. “When you were around three, we tried for another baby but it didn’t happen. That’s when I found out a childhood bout of mumps made me infertile.”
Cold disappointment shrouded my heart and lowered it down to my belly. After my conversation with Lady Liddell, I had hoped my biological father was Billy Hancock. It was a damn sight better than any of the alternatives.
“Oh,” I said.
“Sorry, treacle.” He hadn’t called me that since I was a toddler.
A surge of sentiment filled my chest, and tears filled my eyes. I reached down and placed my hand in his. “It would have been nice but thank you for putting a roof over my head.”