“Okay.” His eyes turned deadly. “Has she called your brothers?”
“She didn’t say.” Rachel smoothed her suit and brushed her hair over her shoulder.
“We can call them from the car.”
She was grateful he didn’t suggest going upstairs and telling Jonathan in person. She wasn’t ready for that yet. “Let’s go. I’m alright now. It was just a shock.”
“Come on.” He took her hand, and for once, she didn’t complain.
As they passed the curious guard and receptionist, Harvard called out, “That’s what happens when you skip lunch. She’s fine; we’re going to get something to eat. Have a good weekend.”
They smiled politely, but awkwardly, clearly unsure whether to believe him. Rachel didn’t care. She just didn’t want anyone calling Jonathan before she could talk to him.
Once in the car, Harvard handed her a bottle of icy water from the cooler built into the center armrest. She took it gratefully and sipped until her throat felt like it was working properly again.
“You okay to call?” he asked as he took them out into the traffic.
“Yes.” She lifted her phone and brought up her brother’s contact details. “Jonathan? There’s been some bad news; Father’s in hospital again with a mild heart attack.” As she listened to his shocked response, they joined the motorway, and Harvard’s hand reached out to clasp hers.
She held it tight.
“No, Mother said he’ll be fine, and you know she wouldn’t downplay it. I’m on my way there now.” She gave him the details. “I’ll meet you there. Will you tell Sebastian?”
Once he’d agreed, she hung up and reached for the water again.
Harvard squeezed her hand. “You okay?”
“It was just a wobble.” She took another sip.
“We all have them. How do you want to handle this?”
And just like that, the last remaining links in the chain around her heart gave way. Any other man at Benson Security would have taken charge and tried to tell her what to do, but not Harvard. With one short question, he’d let her know that he had her back, and this was her show to run.
“I need to calm my parents,” she said. “There will be questions about the attack. Emotions.” And she wasn’t great at dealing with those. It was tempting to leave them to get over the shock and then talk to them about it later. Maybe in a year or two. But she couldn’t. They were her family, and she loved them fiercely.
“Just tap my arm if you need a reprieve,” he said, sounding his usual calm self. “I can either take over the explanations or get you out of there for a few minutes.”
“Tag team,” she muttered.
“Yeah.”
She stared out of the window as they zoomed past the landscape. Green hills turned gray in the pounding rain. “I really want to kill someone right now,” she said.
“I’ll help you bury the body,” Harvard said darkly, leading her to think he had some very real experience in that area.
With her hand tucked in his, she kept her eyes on the road in front of them and tried not to think about where their journey would end. Or what she’d have to face when she got there.
Chapter Twenty-One
As they approached the door to her father’s hospital room, Harvard asked, “Do you want me to come in with you or wait out here?”
His question came across as purely pragmatic, without even a hint of pity. Thank Gucci. “I honestly don’t care,” she said. “Do what you want.”
He put a hand on her arm, his touch gentle but firm. “Rachel,” was all he said, but his tone made it clear he expected a different answer.
“Fine,” she huffed. “I want you to come in with me.” She squeezed the words through a throat that was rapidly closing to keep them inside.
“Was that so hard?” He let go of her arm.
“You have no idea,” she muttered.
“Would it make it easier if I promised to tell everyone I forced myself into the room with you?”
She gave that some serious consideration. “Yes. It would.”
“Okay then,” he said, while smothering a smile.
“I don’t want anyone to think I’ve gone soft or become needy.” She glared at him. “Because I haven’t.”
“Understood.” Harvard reached out to brush her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m your backup in case you need it. I’m not a crutch.”
“Exactly.”
His eyes sparkled. “You want to pat me on the head and tell me well done, don’t you?”
Honestly. “You are far more trouble than you’re worth.”
“We both know that isn’t true. You ready?”
“As ready as anyone can be when they’d rather be anywhere else.” Rachel hesitated, her hand on the doorknob. “I’m concerned about my father, but I’d rather the focus was on him—where it should be—than on my ancient history.” She frowned up at him. “I have no idea why I’m explaining myself to you.”
“Delayed shock?” he offered.
“Must be,” she said as she opened the door and stepped inside.
As with hospital rooms the world over, this one was decorated in insipid pastel colors and gray machinery. The room was private, which meant there were flowers on the bedside table, a painting on the wall, some floral curtains that she assumed were supposed to be cheerful, and an upholstered armchair for her mother to sit in. The only thing about the room that was in any way delightful was the view out over London. Everything else would just make a patient feel even more ill.
“Rachel,” her mother cried, jumping out of her seat and running straight at her.
The force of her hug almost swept Rachel off her feet. Instead, she felt the steadying hold of Harvard’s strong hands before he took her handbag, freeing her up to return her mother’s embrace.
“My baby,” her mother said through tears, squeezing her tight. “My poor, poor baby.”
“I’m fine.” Rachel patted her back. “Really, let’s concentrate on Father.”
Over her mother’s shoulder, she caught her father’s eye, and it felt like the wind had been knocked right out of her. He stared back at her, his face devoid of color and his eyes filled with tears. Propped up on pillows, with wires coming from his chest and tubes in his arm, he suddenly looked much older than his years. It was a stark and awful reminder that she wouldn’t have them forever. Something she couldn’t even bear thinking about.
“It’s okay,” Rachel reassured him. “Honestly. It’s fine.”
“How can it be fine?” His voice was a rasp. “My daughter was…you were…” He shook his head as though nothing made any sense. “And we weren’t there for you. Why, Rachel, why didn’t you tell us?”
Her stomach formed a solid lump inside of her. “You received some photos then.” It wasn’t a question; it was merely confirmation of what she’d expected.
He visibly swallowed, his hands curling into fists. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Were you ashamed?” Her mother stopped hugging her long enough to cup her cheeks. “Please tell me it wasn’t shame that stopped you from calling us after the attack. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I can’t stand the thought of you going through that alone. Why didn’t the hospital call us? Or the police?”
“I wouldn’t let them. They wanted to, but it seemed like the best decision at the time.” Rachel swallowed hard. “I’m okay, Mum. I promise. It was a very long time ago. And I wasn’t ashamed. I was trying to…”
She looked at Harvard, hoping he had the right words because somehow she knew that explaining she’d been trying to protect them would only make things worse.
“Sometimes,” Harvard said as she tagged him into the conversation, “the shock from a trauma can last for years. A person can withdraw and make decisions that they wouldn’t usually make. Rachel was in shock. By the time she got past it, she didn’t want to open old wounds. Which is what would have happened if she’d told y
ou.”
Her father’s anger focused on Harvard. “But you knew. You knew my daughter was…attacked, and you didn’t tell me. You knew when I didn’t.”
Harvard maintained that steadying calm of his. “Only because the photos started turning up when we arrived at TayFor.”
With a curse, her father rested his head back against his pillows. “Blackmail.” His eyes scrunched shut. “That explains the note with the photos.”
“What note? You didn’t mention a note. And blackmail? I don’t understand.” Her mother’s wide-eyed gaze went to each of them, but she never let go of Rachel. Through it all, she continued to pet her and touch her, as though making sure she was real. Or trying to soothe away all the hurts that had happened so very long ago. “Why would someone blackmail Rachel?” Silent tears fell. “And with this? Who could do such a thing? Wasn’t the assault enough? What sort of sick mind would save photos like that? Would use them again? I don’t understand.” She looked at Rachel for answers.
But there were none to give. All Rachel could do was pull her mother back into her arms. “I know you don’t, Mum. I should have told you when it happened, but I was young, and I thought I had control of the situation.”
“And you were protecting us,” her father said gruffly.
Rachel’s eyes caught his, and she saw complete understanding in them.
His jaw clenched tight for a second. “You knew they’d use those photos to bring down TayFor. They threatened you with a scandal, didn’t they? And you chose to protect the company, and us.” His face crumpled. “Don’t you know that you’re worth far more to us than that damn company could ever be?” A single silent tear ran down his aged cheek.
“I never, for one second, thought you cared more for the company than you did for me,” Rachel whispered to him. To them.
“You were always too damn strong,” her father said. “Determined that you knew better than everyone around you and so bloody smart that you were usually right. You spent your whole childhood protecting your brothers and cousins while pretending you weren’t. As though none of us would notice. And nothing has changed. You’re still taking all the weight on your own shoulders to spare the rest of us the burden. But, my baby girl, you never realized that the people who love you want to take the burden from you too. You should have let us carry this. You should have let us be there for you.”
“I know.” Rachel guided her mother over to the bed so she could enfold them both in a hug. “I know,” she said softly, casting a panicked glance at Harvard. She had no idea what to do, how to comfort them, or how to make things right. She was completely lost in the situation, and all she wanted was for her parents to stop hurting. But she didn’t know how to make that happen.
Harvard must have read the desperation in her face, because he cleared his throat. “How about we get some hot drinks and talk about how we’re going to catch the bastards who did this?”
Her father came out of their hug to look at Harvard. “I want them to suffer. Nothing is more important than getting to the bottom of this. Not TayFor. Not the thief. Nothing.”
“Yes, sir.” Harvard nodded. “I understand, and we’re on the same page. But”—he rubbed his chin and hesitated, as though unsure—“we need your help. Are you sure you’re up to that?”
“Just you bloody well try and stop us,” her father raged while her mother took a tissue from the side table and dabbed at her face.
“Let’s crucify those animals,” she said as Jonathan burst into the room.
Taking in the scene in front of him, he paled. “Dad, you okay?”
“He’s going to be fine.” Her mother rushed to comfort another child. “We’ve just had some bad news about Rachel.”
“Rachel?” Jonathan looked prepared to hug her until she spilled the story.
Rachel caught Harvard’s eye. “Tag, you’re it. I’ll get the drinks while you explain.” There wasn’t a chance in hell she was going through that again. “Maybe they have wine in the cafeteria.”
“This is a hospital.” Her mother sounded outraged.
“Well, if they don’t have wine, maybe someone could sedate me until this is over.” She opened the door and waved a hand at them. “I’m fine. Father was the one who had a heart attack. Harvard has a plan for getting to the bottom of this whole situation and the skill to torture everyone involved. Please, for the love of all things Prada, get the hugging and tears out of your system while I’m gone.”
With that, she closed the door behind her.
Harvard grinned at the door before becoming aware that all eyes were now on him. Yeah, there was no hiding that he was far more than a work colleague to Rachel—even if she wasn’t willing to admit it. Yet.
Running a hand over his bald head and absently noting it needed a shave, he turned to Rachel’s family and gave them the truth. “I’m in love with Rachel. I’m pretty sure she loves me too, although getting her to admit it is turning out to be a challenge. But you should know that if I have my way, this wedding you’re planning will be the real deal.”
There was a stunned silence before Rachel’s mother burst into tears again and rushed at him. As she enfolded him in a hug, Harvard patted her back and gave the men a bewildered look.
“Welcome to the family,” Jonathan said with a shrug. “We like to hug.”
“I’m so glad she has you,” Francesca said between sobs muffled against his chest. “She needs a strong man to love her. To see her for who she really is and appreciate all of her.”
“That’s a good point,” Jonathan said. “You sure you know what you’re getting into?”
“Yeah.” Harvard smiled. “I’m sure.”
“Okay then.” Jonathan went over to place a hand on his father’s arm. “They’ve said it was a mild attack. I thought you were taking your medication and laying off that fatty food you enjoy too much. You need to take your doctor’s instructions seriously. I’m not sure if my heart can take another scare like this. Not to mention poor Sebastian. He’s scrambling to find a ride out of the Borneo jungle, just to check for himself that you’re still alive.” His voice softened. “Seriously, Dad, let’s make this the last time.”
Roger patted his hand. “I couldn’t agree more. I just had a terrible shock, that’s all.”
Jonathan frowned. “A shock involving Rachel? What has she done now? Was anyone injured?”
“Sit down,” Roger said before giving Harvard a helpless look.
“I wouldn’t mind taking it from here if that’s okay with you, Roger,” Harvard said as he led Francesca to her seat. “That way, I can fill in some gaps while I bring Jonathan up to speed.”
Roger sagged into the pillows with clear relief. “Please,” he said, turning to Jonathan. “Son, prepare yourself. This isn’t good at all.”
Burying his emotions deep, Harvard tried to be as professional and caring as he could be while he explained everything to Rachel’s family. Francesca kept a fierce grip on her husband’s hand, her free hand dabbing at her cheeks with a tissue. Jonathan’s head dropped forward, and he cursed softly with each revelation. Roger looked like he was clenching his teeth so hard they might crack.
When Harvard had finished, Jonathan looked up at him, his eyes red. “I hope she finds some whiskey in the cafeteria.”
“If there’s any to be found, Rachel will get it,” Harvard said.
Jonathan took a visible breath. “She won’t let us comfort her, bloody prickly woman.”
“No,” Harvard said. “She won’t. But you have to remember, Rachel’s had ten years to think about this; you’ve only just found out. She really is doing great.”
Francesca’s tear-filled eyes met his. “You can’t always believe what you see with our daughter.”
“I know,” Harvard said softly, giving her a silent promise. “I’m watching over her. If she crumples, she won’t be alone.”
Her mother nodded as she turned to her husband, who wrapped his arm around her and comforted her.
&n
bsp; Roger’s steely gaze met Harvard’s, reminding him that Rachel’s dad had built a world-class company from the ground up, using grit, determination, and pure strength. Before he’d arrived on the scene, there’d been no TayFor. He was the For in the name—the man who’d single-handedly saved a failing company, making him both feared and revered within London’s business community.
“What do you need from us?” Roger asked.
Harvard pulled up a chair. “I need the envelope, the photos, a detailed breakdown of where you were when you received them, and who was near you in the time preceding it.”
Roger nodded. “You’ll have it.”
“What did the note say?” Harvard asked.
The man’s eyes blazed. “It said Rachel was told to leave TayFor. You get to deliver her last warning. Enjoy.” He turned green. “It actually said that word. Enjoy. As though this was all just a game.”
Francesca stroked a hand down his shoulder. “Whoever this is, they’re very sick.”
“Or evil,” Jonathan said.
Harvard had to agree. “We’ve got someone searching the server for clues from ten years ago. Someone else examining the photos to see what they can tell us. And we have Rachel. She might not remember much, but she has flashes of detail that will help. On top of that, we believe the blackmailer works at TayFor, and we know they were involved in the attack. Otherwise, how did they get hold of the photos?”
“And we know that all they care about,” Jonathan said, “is getting Rachel to leave the company.”
Francesca shook her head. “Why Rachel? I don’t understand how she’s a threat to anyone—ten years ago or now. Why do they want to get rid of her?”
Harvard felt a chill run up his spine. “That’s a very good question. One I’ve been asking myself, and I’ve yet to come up with an answer.” But when he did, he knew it would point straight to the person behind the attack and the blackmail. The puppeteer. The one orchestrating Rachel’s suffering for their own twisted ends.
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