by Laura Carter
“I traced them all, my grandmother, my grandfather and my uncle.” He moves away from the wall and stands over me. “My search brought me to England.”
A million disordered thoughts crash through my mind.
“My uncle is a billionaire. A tech billionaire. Imagine the coincidence. I watched him for weeks, never knowing whether to approach him, not knowing if I had the courage and if I did, how I’d do it.”
My eyes sting and this time, I don’t think I’m strong enough to cool the fire.
“I put Black Diamonds on the market.” He laughs again and rubs a hand across his chin. Then he paces next to me. “I thought, I thought if I made something of myself, that he’d be interested in me. But deep down, I knew, I knew they’d gotten rid of me once, they wouldn’t want me now.”
“Stuart, who is your uncle?”
He stops but it’s so clear. Those brown irises, magnetic, alluring. His dark, square features. His tall body.
“You know it’s him,” he whispers.
His name floats from my lips like it’s being carried on wind. “Gregory.”
He doesn’t react, as if he’s known this moment would come, as if he’s been waiting for it.
“You’re Elsa’s son.”
He nods once and his lips twist like he’s fighting emotion.
I move my free hand to my mouth as silent tears roll down my face. Kevin Pearson raped his daughter and she bore his child. Gregory said she was sent away for a time but he never understood why. Now I do.
“Stuart, he doesn’t know.”
“Bullshit!” He turns and fiercely punches the wall, cracking the plaster further, a strangled wail escaping him as he looks at his damaged hand.
I try to stand but my legs are lifeless. “Stuart, you have to believe me. He doesn’t know. I know about Elsa, about your mother. I know she killed herself and I...” I hang my head and my words are barely audible. “I know why. She went away, Stuart. Gregory was only a boy and he didn’t know why she left, never mind why she came back.”
He faces me, his eyes wet. I can feel his thoughts flying, as frantic as my own.
“Think about it. If he knew and didn’t care about you, he would never have employed you and taken a chance on you. He loves Elsa. If he knew her son was out there, if he knew he had a nephew, he’d want to know you.”
His shoulders sag and his breath hitches.
“He tried to help her, Stuart, and one day he can tell you about her. You could have a family. Your family. Gregory cares. He’s the most loving man I know. I want you to know him, to see that about him.”
He slumps onto the table in front of me as a tear rolls down his cheek. I reach out cautiously and when he doesn’t pull away, I wrap my hand around his. “I would like to get to know you, Stuart.”
He looks up to me now and I know I’ve gotten through to him.
“I don’t know how this happened,” he whispers. “I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to punish him for being the child they chose. I wanted to take from him the way they took from me.”
“But he didn’t, Stuart. Please, believe me.”
“I do.” He squeezes my hand then wipes his face with his other. “I don’t know what to do. This wasn’t part of the plan. He was supposed to just buy the game for the price Nick wanted.”
I nod, taking a deep breath, not yet able to put all the pieces together. “You need to go to Gregory. You need to tell him where I am. You have to warn him about Nick and Trina. Trina has a gun. I don’t know about Nick. You have to tell him.”
“He’ll kill me as soon as he sees me, Scarlett. There’s CCTV, the cleaner. He’ll know what I’ve done to you.”
“Then you have to make him listen. You have to tell him everything.”
“Isn’t this cozy!” We snap our heads to the door to see Nick. “I have someone on the phone who’d like to speak to you, princess.”
I take my hand away from Stuart’s. He’s afraid. Nick leans towards me, twirling my hair around his index finger, then he holds the phone to my ear.
“Scarlett?”
“Gregory?” His voice is more than I can take. A violent sob bursts from my chest, then another and another. “I love you!” I scream as Nick pulls the phone away.
“There’s your evidence. Ten o’clock.” He hangs up the phone then angrily takes my chin in his fingers. “Looks like your man’s coming to get you.”
I cast my eyes to Stuart and try in that moment to tell him to go. I don’t know whether he follows me or his own moment of enlightenment but he slips out of the room.
“I love you! Gregory, I love you!” Nick Henshaw mimics in a high voice before releasing my chin and bending forward to his knees, laughing from the depths of him. “Ah, you kill me.”
Before he leaves he cuffs my wrists in my lap and locks the door behind him.
* * *
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Trina says as she takes a seat at the table. “Well, lady, time’s up. For you. For him. Whatever. It’s nine forty-five. Your boyfriend will be here soon and when he comes, what do you think is going to happen?”
“He’ll give Nick the money.”
“Well, yes. I meant after that.”
I stare at her now, wanting to rip her head off, knowing I don’t have the strength but balling my fists in my lap nonetheless. I look at the door and contemplate whether I could make a run for it. She unholsters her handgun and rests it on her thigh. A silent warning.
“Do you think Nick is going to keep him alive, Scarlett? After everything that lying bastard has done, do you really think he’ll be allowed to hand over the money and walk away?”
She’s right. I know she’s right and it’s making me sick. My stomach is in knots and I’m praying, praying and hoping, that I really did get through to Stuart. That Gregory listened to him. That he comes prepared. Or doesn’t come at all. That someone comes. Anyone else to deliver the money. Then I feel guilty because whoever comes is walking into a fatal transaction. I know it and all I can do is hope.
Trina picks up her handgun and turns it in front of her face, considering every edge and nodule. “Nick’s is a lot like this. Cleaner. Newer, perhaps, but similar.”
One side of her lips turns up and she puts the gun back on her hip. “It was a good plan, don’t you think?” She shakes her head with a smirk. “Nick wants to take credit but he knows it was me. You see, I trailed Gregory. And you in the process.” She holds up her hands as if in apology and bile rises in my throat. “I knew things were off. I watched you both and you know something, it made me sick. Seeing your worry, him without a care in the world, going about his business.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh it was. You were just too close to see. Then I looked deeper into his files, and lucky, lucky, he had a sibling. Sister killed herself. Daddy was locked up. Couldn’t stand the thought of what Daddy had done to her. He’s like him, you know, Gregory. Like father, like son.”
“Don’t you dare liken him to that bastard. Don’t you fucking dare!”
“Keep your hair on.” She laughs. “So I kept digging and found out Daddy gave his daughter a baby. I banked that intel. Then I came to see you in Dubai.” She leans her head to one side with a fake sympathetic smile. “I really did try to give you a way out. You threw it back in my face. I guess, in lots of ways, you’re to blame for all this. You forced me to think up another plan. And as I’m doing that, what do you know, the illegitimate son pops up in London. It was beautiful really, the way it started coming together. Of course, Nick Henshaw was very willing to get one up on a man who stole from him.”
“That’s bollocks.”
She shrugs. “Is. Isn’t. I don’t care. It was Nick’s idea to take the game from Stuart and I have to admit, it was a neat idea. Take the game, cut
Stuart in on the money. But it was me who knew about Stuart in the first place. I was the one who connected the dots and put them together. The problem was, I couldn’t quite see how I was going to get what I needed. Nick could force Gregory into buying the game, give him a taste of his own filthy, rich, corrupt medicine, but how would I get my confession? I tried leaking to the tabloids but you, and his money, cut me off.” She laughs, slapping her hands together and grinning against the tips of her fingers. “Then you brought it all together for me. You tied that game up in a court case. It was obvious then how we could all get what we want. And that’s what you’re going to do now, Scarlett, right now, you’re going to give me what I want.”
“Why would I give you anything?”
“Because I can end this. This is the grand finale, Scarlett, you must know by now that I have a cunning end.”
“So what’s your end?”
“You tell me the truth. You tell me about the bribes, confess the truth. When Gregory turns up, I arrest Nick. Make this whole thing look like him. Then you, me and Gregory go to the station. I win my case. I get my job back. I get the respect I deserve and your boyfriend gets the justice he deserves.”
I want to tell her I don’t know anything. I want to keep my promise to Gregory, but she’s offering his life. If I give her the bribes, he loses his freedom. If I give her me, she gets her arrest. She gets her grand finale and Gregory is free. Finally. The little boy from my dreams can move out of the shadows.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Relief. Excitement. Terror. The mix of emotions sends my adrenal glands into overdrive, making my body sweat. My heart rate increases to the point that I can feel it throbbing in my head. The sound of tyres driving across uneven surface makes me want to fight, protect him.
“That’s your man,” Trina says with a sardonic grin.
Gregory is here, coming to do what’s necessary to get me out, risking his life. I don’t know if Stuart got to him. I don’t know if he knows what to expect. All I do know, is that he’s following Nick’s instructions and there’s a good chance he could pay for my life with his own.
“Time is running out, Scarlett. I can stop this. Put an end to it for all of us.”
I hear a car door open and close. Then another. I will not let him die.
“Do it. Please, Trina. I’m begging you. Stop it.”
“You know what you have to do, Scarlett. Just say the words.”
I lift my head to the window. I can’t see anything, only concrete. My breathing becomes erratic and beads of sweat form on my brow.
“It was me. God damn it, Trina. There was no bribe. Gregory was protecting me. I killed his father. I killed Kevin Pearson.”
She stands quickly and takes her gun in her right hand. She clicks off the safety and points it right between my eyes. She squeezes her eyes shut as I sit, paralysed.
“Liar. You’re a fucking liar!”
She opens her eyes, her hand shaking, her finger braced on the trigger. With the base of her other hand she thumps her temple.
“You’re a lying fucking bitch!” She slams the gun across my face so hard I spit blood to the concrete.
Then there’s a bang. A bang so loud it echoes in the room and vibrates deep in the drum of my ears. It’s a shot and it didn’t come from inside this room.
I fall from the chair to my knees. “Gregory!” I scream his name over and over.
Trina charges from the room, leaving the door wide open, her gun braced in both hands. “Fuck! Fuck!”
There are cars, shouting voices, sirens, commotion. I have to go. I have to go to him.
I stagger to my feet, my legs buckling at first. With my bound hands, I pull myself up to stand and break free from the room. The corridor is dark and damp. I use the wall to help me move, leaning into it with my shoulder.
Another shot.
Please, God, no.
The grey sky of outside is much brighter than the room I’ve been held in. I can hear voices, frantic voices, swearing, screaming but I can’t see. I have to squint but my legs keep moving forward until they reach something. I open my eyes to see feet on the ground. Time stands still as the feet slowly move. Gasps of air. Groans. I’m looking at the body of Katrina Martin.
Her hands are pushed tightly into her abdomen. Her face is grey and pained. Blood is pooling around her back, a sea of thick burgundy flowing out of her.
“Scarlett!”
“Scarlett!”
Voices shout. More than one. Non-distinct in the background as I watch Katrina Martin take her last breath. Her eyes widen. Her legs stop moving. One crimson stained hand falls from her abdomen, landing palm up on the ground.
Squinting through one eye, I look up. There are cars, four, five black cars. D.I. Barnes lowers his gun. Other armed police start to move, making their way towards me. Jackson stands in front of the Mercedes, bent forward, his hands on his knees as if he’s dragging air into his lungs. Two armed police move past him and I follow them to a man on the floor. His legs move but he looks barely alive, his face covered in blood. I grab my chest, reminding my heart to beat. The man is Nick Henshaw.
Then I see him, crawling to his feet by Nick’s beaten body, his white shirt stained with smatters of blood, his face marked.
He’s alive.
My legs give out under me as the world fades to a small black tunnel.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Gregory
I think I died three times. When she was taken. When Katrina Martin ran from that building with a loaded gun. When Scarlett fell to the ground.
She’s been scanned, they’ve cleaned her up. The first thing they did in the ambulance was connect her to a drip and give her painkillers for the bruising and cuts around her face and head.
Now, she sleeps.
The pills they gave her took her under almost straight away. Her body was weak, her mind exhausted. She’s been asleep for almost ten hours. Peaceful. Beautiful.
The city is dark beyond the windows of her private room in the hospital. The dim lights displaying the image of her in the glass panes. The hospital bed I’ve put her in.
I raise her delicate hand to my lips and more tears fall, as if there’s an endless stream. I tell her again that I’m sorry.
I promised to protect her. I made that promise to myself in the split second it took to fall in love with her. When I opened the door to my boardroom and thirty years of waiting came to an end. In that moment, I knew there would never be another woman for me. I knew it then. I know it now.
I promised myself each time I fell deeper that I would never hurt her. The moment she stole my breath descending the staircase of Claridge’s in the royal blue gown I bought for her. Her hair was pinned back, her lips red, her eyes alive. Her smile blew me away, like it does every time.
I promised myself when she stepped out of the car at the theatre. When she giggled with happiness because I’d bought tickets to the play she wanted to see. When my heart gave over to her the first time I held her naked body in my hands. Her flawless skin. Her smooth flesh under my fingertips. I told her in the way I kissed her that I would always be hers.
Every conversation we’ve had. Each time she’s made me laugh and pushed through another part of the walls I built around myself years ago. When we stood at the top of Primrose Hill, and, despite the cold, she wanted to stay in our moment. When she read to me The Count of Monte Cristo. When she recited Violetta’s words to me at the opera. Love me, Alfredo, love me as much as I love you. I didn’t love her as much as she thought she loved me. I loved her infinitely more. I do still.
I turn her engagement ring around her finger then hold her palm to my cheek. She looked mesmerising the night I asked her to marry me. To be mine, forever. Her hair blowing in the Caribbean breeze. Her hazel-green eyes ligh
ting up as the waves of the ocean danced in her irises. She promised to be by my side for the rest of our lives.
I broke my promise.
I rub the tears from my eyes because I want to see her. Clearly. All of her.
I didn’t just break my promise. I failed to protect her and I brought my darkness to her. I hurt her and I couldn’t make it right. She’s worth so much more. She’s better than that. Better than me.
The thought of her waking is bittersweet. I want to see those eyes that captured my heart. I want to tell her that I love her. But it could be the last time. If she walks away, I won’t blame her, and I won’t chase her.
There’s a soft knock on the door and I turn to see Amanda. “Ed and I are going to get coffee. Do you want one?”
I shake my head because I can’t speak. She turns her lips into a soft smile that I don’t deserve, then gently, quietly closes the door behind her. It reminds me of the other faces behind the wall. I haven’t spoken to my mother since she finally told me the truth. After nineteen years, she told me I have a nephew. Elsa’s child. He came to me. He told me everything, told me where Scarlett was. But I’m not ready to look him in the eye. I’m not ready to talk to either of them and God knows how I’ll cope with any of the things life throws at me if Scarlett leaves.
“I don’t know how to live without you anymore,” I whisper.
Time continues to crawl and I know, with each second, I could be moving closer to the end.
She eventually stirs. Her fingers twitch in my hands. Her shoulder shrugs.
“Scarlett.”
She leans her head to one side and slowly opens her eyes. They widen when they meet mine. Then she turns her head around the room and she winces as painful memories bring her up to date.
This is it. The moment she crushes me. And I can’t hear it. I don’t want to make her say it. I’m terrified she will. I turn my lips into her palm then hold it against my cheek, closing my eyes, trying to box her touch against my skin. My tears roll heavier down my face and her own eyes glaze.