‘Jesus. Just stop!’ Trying to vanquish the memories, Adam dragged his hands over his face, wrapped his arms tight about his chest and waited. Watching the clock, willing Nathaniel to appear from inside, he continued to wait, knowing where he’d end up if he didn’t stay put: drowning his sorrows. Sorrowful bastard, he needed to fight. For once in his life, he needed not to run away.
He needed Emily to leave him alone, to stop feeling her feelings, hear her softly calling his name. You’re not here! Adam sucked in a breath, clamped his eyes shut and silently begged. Get out of my head. Get out of my life. Please. I loved you, Emily, with all of my heart, but I have to let you go. You have to let me go.
Hearing someone emerge noisily from the pub, Adam pulled himself up in his seat and squinted through his windscreen. Not Nathaniel, one of the Neanderthal louts from the lane. He’d recognise them anywhere. So what was he doing, moving across the car park as if he was being chased by the Devil himself? And why – Adam looked harder and then reached for his door – did his shirt appear to be covered in blood?
Foreboding creeping through him, Adam was out of the car, sprinting towards him. ‘Whoa,’ he called, causing the guy to falter. Glancing panic-struck over his shoulder, the guy pushed on, stumbling as he ran, and Adam was on him. Clutching the scruff of his neck and not much caring if there were fifty other thugs to back him up, Adam dragged him bodily backwards. ‘What happened?’ he growled.
‘Rob,’ the guy spluttered. ‘He’s gone mental.’
Adam twisted the guy’s collar tighter. ‘What happened?’ he repeated, more than ready to choke the information out of him if he didn’t talk.
‘Some bloke, he mouthed off,’ the guy rasped. ‘Rob … He’s got a knife …’
Nate! Adam stopped listening. Dropping the guy, who fell heavily to his knees, he turned and ran flat out towards the pub. It could have been the rustle of leaves. Yet, there was no wind. The swish of car tyres on the road? It wasn’t. Adam heard it clearly this time as he ran. ‘Soon, Adam,’ Emily whispered a promise. ‘Soon.’
The only person who noticed him as he came silently through the back entrance of the pub was the landlord. He was on the wrong side of the bar, his look this time one of wary confusion as he made eye contact with Adam.
Adam quickly shook his head hard and cast his gaze down, hoping the man would get the message and look away. He did, thank God. Nodding almost imperceptibly, the landlord turned his gaze back to the gang-leader, the chain-wielder. But now it wasn’t a chain he was wielding. Hardly daring to breathe, his adrenaline pumping, his heart pounding a steady drumbeat in his chest, Adam looked from the knife the guy was brandishing to the body on the floor. A male, he could see from the feet visible at the end of the bar, but who? The bar obscuring the rest of his view, Adam had no hope of knowing without making himself known.
‘He needs a doctor.’ Nathaniel’s voice, from the side of the room. Relief flooding through him, Adam almost reeled where he stood.
‘No doctor!’ the knifeman yelled, his voice frantic, hysterical almost. ‘I said, don’t move!’ Adam took a step back out of sight, as the guy whirled around, jabbing the knife in Nathaniel’s direction.
‘Mobiles!’ the guy shouted, dragging his free hand across his mouth. ‘I told you to throw them on the floor. Do it!’
Dammit, the police? Why the hell hadn’t he called them? Adam reached carefully into his pocket. Pulling out his own phone, he checked it was on mute, then quickly keyed in 999. Easing down slowly, desperate not to attract attention, he rested the phone on the floor, hoping they’d realise something was seriously wrong and stay on the line.
Standing, he risked a step back towards the bar. Then another step closer, but it still didn’t afford him much of a view.
‘You!’ The guy gestured in Nathaniel’s direction again, pointing the knife, the blade of which Adam could now see was coated in blood. ‘You’re coming with me.’
‘She’s going nowhere.’ The landlord stepped towards him from the opposite side.
Sherry? Adam prayed it was her, which hopefully meant she wasn’t hurt. There’d only been four cars in the car park, including his. He’d recognised Nathaniel’s and James’ four-wheel drive. The other presumably belonged to the landlord.
‘Says who?’ the guy snarled, dragging his hand once again over his mouth, seriously scared, Adam imagined, if he’d just used that knife in full view of everyone – and probably very close to losing control.
‘Me,’ Nathaniel said. ‘You want someone, you take me.’
Oh, no … Adam closed his eyes, knowing that that’s exactly what his friend would do. Always there for anyone who might need him, always respectful of women, Nathaniel would probably allow him to take her only over his dead body.
‘You must be joking, mate. Do you seriously think you can stop me?’ the guy sneered, reinforcing his authority with his weapon. ‘Well, do you?’
Spitting at the mouth, the man moved forwards, towards Nathaniel, towards Sherry.
Uh-uh, no way. Adam moved faster. Pressing one hand on the top of the bar, he was up, on top of it, and over it in two seconds flat, landing firmly and determinedly behind the assailant. ‘Don’t,’ he said simply, as the guy twirled round to face him.
‘You?’ The guy gawked, disbelieving.
‘Yep,’ Adam assured him. ‘And trust me, you go anywhere near those two, and I will stop you.’
‘Get out of my way.’ Breathing hard, the guy dragged a hand over his mouth again.
Not a nervous twitch, Adam learned. James had obviously landed one good punch to the bastard’s jaw, before he’d gone down. ‘No can do, sorry,’ Adam said, his tone light, his intent, he hoped the guy realised as he fixed his gaze hard on his, deadly serious.
The guy looked away first, his eyes flitting this way and that, specifically towards the door. And then he did what Adam had fervently been hoping he wouldn’t. Bringing the knife higher, he took a step back, closing in on his victims. Adam shadowed him. The guy took another step, catching hold of Sherry’s wrist with his free hand.
Sherry whimpered. ‘Adam,’ she implored, trying to wriggle out of the man’s grasp. Adam’s gaze flicked to hers. Her face was tear-stained, her eyes wide, she was petrified.
Adam brought his gaze back to the bastard who’d caused her to be. A bully, no backbone, hiding like the coward he was behind his knife. Fury burned in Adam’s chest, stuck in his craw.
‘Adam, don’t!’ Nathaniel warned as he advanced.
Adam wasn’t hearing him. He was focussed now, totally focussed. He locked eyes with the piece of human flotsam before him, intent on bringing the man down.
‘Adam!’ Nathaniel shouted as the man lunged, loosening his hold on Sherry as he did.
But Adam was quicker, marginally, back-stepping as the blade swished a hair’s breadth from his chest.
His own breathing heavy, Adam studied the man, guessing he had seconds before his fetid mind remembered his only real chance was a larger shield than his knife. He needed a body. He needed someone he could manhandle. He needed Sherry. Not happening. Adam didn’t waste any more time debating. Bracing himself, he took a purposeful step forwards … and then stopped, his disbelieving eyes travelling upwards.
There in the air, suspended right above the guy’s head, was Emily. Astonished, Adam tried to look away, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her; her aura was mesmerising, so dazzlingly bright it was almost blinding.
Watching him, the guy’s malevolence faltered, and then he gave a humourless laugh. ‘Nice try,’ he spat, looking Adam over contemptuously. ‘Did you really think I’d fall for that?’
Astounded, confounded, Adam continued to watch as she hovered, drifting silently downwards, bypassing the man and floating towards him. He felt her, not cold, not terrifying, comforting somehow; she reached out her hand, brushed his cheek lightly, and then moved to stand right beside him.
Seeking confirmation, Adam looked around. All eyes intently on the
knife-wielder, it seemed no one was aware of her presence but him. Shaken, he looked back to the guy, and his heart almost stopped as the door he’d come in by slammed.
Instinctively, the guy spun around, pointing his knife in that direction.
Adam didn’t hesitate. Stepping in behind him to his side, he grabbed the knife wrist with his right hand, dead legging the man from behind with a knee as he did, and bringing the knife arm swiftly and violently back across his own body, forcing the elbow to break sickeningly across his chest. Simultaneously, he brought his left arm up and under the man’s chin, forcing the man backwards over his leg.
The guy landed heavily, twisting on to his side. Adam wasted no time there either, dropping down fast after him, his bodyweight pinning him down, and forced his knee hard into the squirming man’s shoulder.
Better, Adam thought, wiping a hand across his own mouth and then grabbing a fistful of the guy’s hair. ‘Not nice, is it, you piece of scum,’ he seethed, ‘getting a taste of your own medicine?’
The man reasonably subdued, Adam turned his attention to the landlord, who was looking on stupefied. ‘Towels!’ he yelled, nodding towards James, who was still bleeding out onto the floor. ‘Press them to the wound!’
‘I’ll call the emergency services.’ Nathaniel bent to retrieve his discarded mobile as Sherry, shocked though she was, flew to her husband’s assistance.
‘Don’t bother.’ Adam smiled wryly, indicating the police presence swarming into the bar area. ‘The cavalry’s arrived.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘Move over Bruce Lee.’ Joining him at the bar, once police procedure was complete, Nathaniel gave Adam a congratulatory slap on the back. ‘Where the hell did you learn to do that?’
‘Darren, my hero and my nemesis.’ Adam shrugged, reminding Nathaniel of his not-so-friendly martial arts spars with his brother. ‘He was quite fond of breaking my arm.’
Nathaniel nodded, furrowing his brow. ‘Not great hero material really, was he?’ He smiled sadly in Adam’s direction as he parked himself on a bar stool.
‘Nope.’ Adam shrugged again, preferring not to think about him.
‘Well, whatever, you were pretty impressive, mate. I have no idea how you avoided serious injury. You’ve obviously got someone on your side.’
‘Yeah.’ Adam smiled ruefully. ‘Unfortunately, not the person I’d like to have.’ Even as he said it, Adam was mentally apologising to Emily. He had no doubt that without her timely intervention, he would have been in A&E nursing stitches, or worse. He wasn’t about to claim to have his very own guardian angel looking out for him to Nate, though, who would naturally assume he’d been hitting the hard stuff.
‘You never cease to amaze me, you know, Adam,’ Nathaniel looked him over approvingly, ‘taking him on like that. I’m not sure I would have had the bottle. Well done, mate.’
Adam just shrugged again. Despite the coppers looking at him with respect, rather than like something that crawled out from under a stone, Sherry thanking him and apologising for her husband kicking the crap out of him, he didn’t feel like much of a hero. Where the women he loved were concerned, he was obviously a complete let-down.
‘Me either,’ the landlord commented, with a touch less hostility than he usually did. He was still cleaning his glass, Adam noted. Probably the same glass: his ‘reserved-to-eyeball-him-menacingly-over’ glass.
Adam went back to studying his hands on the bar in front of him, debating what to do next. Text Sienna? Nathaniel had offered to ring her and report back to him. He’d even offered to go and see her, data protection preventing him giving out her address. Adam really couldn’t blame him for that. He had no doubt David Meadows would go for Nathaniel if her useless boyfriend turned up where he wasn’t wanted, which might hurt Nate’s business. He never was her boyfriend, though, was he, in Meadows’ eyes? Probably not in Sienna’s eyes either.
God, he could use a drink. Adam ran a hand over his neck and then snatched his gaze up sharp, half-expecting to see a certain someone hovering, as a brandy glass slid towards him.
‘I owe you one,’ the landlord said, his expression a mixture of puzzlement and appreciation. ‘I suspect James will probably want to buy you one, too.’
‘Oh, right.’ Adam looked from the extremely large brandy to the landlord, surprised. ‘Cheers,’ he said, picking up the glass and swirling the contents around. He could almost feel it sliding down his throat, hitting the spot, numbing the pain, at least for a while. And therein was the problem. How many would he drink then? Enough to render him incapable of being anything but what everyone expected him to be, including Nicole and Phil? He’d seen the look when he’d opted for a soft drink: disbelief. And what about Sienna? Would she seriously have contemplated a future with someone who would buckle every time there was an emotional crisis? Someone so needy, he couldn’t function without her? She obviously had contemplated it. She wasn’t here, was she?
Still at his side, Nathaniel coughed, loudly. ‘You going to drink that?’ he asked, his wary tone back.
Adam tugged in a breath. ‘No,’ he said, planting the glass firmly back down and getting to his feet. ‘I have Lily-Grace to consider, don’t I? Thanks.’ He offered the landlord a smile. ‘I appreciate the gesture, but I’m on the wagon.’
Please God, let me stay on it, he thought, heading for the door. Alone on his boat without the woman he loved all over again and no bottle to keep him company, that was going to be a hard place to be.
Adam felt something brush his arm, soft, like a passing bird’s wings. Reluctant to open his eyes, elusive sleep having claimed him despite it being only early evening; vaguely aware he was still on the seating area, he ignored it, preferring to hold onto his dreams. The dreams were sketchy, foggy, mostly of Sienna, her smile content, her mesmerising green eyes filled with a mother’s love as she cradled a baby. Lily-Grace? Adam couldn’t see clearly. And then he sensed danger. He couldn’t see where or what the threat was, but it was there somewhere swirling around her.
Adam called her name, but no sound came from his mouth. He could hear his heartbeat, loud and fast; feel her heartbeat, a steady thrum next to his own. He wanted to go to her, fold her into his arms, keep her safe, but, try as he might, the distance grew wider, the fog grew denser, and he couldn’t quite reach her.
‘Sienna!’ he called her again, heard himself call this time, the name drawn out and slurred, but he hadn’t been drinking, and yet the fog in his mind kept getting thicker and thicker. ‘Sienna!’ he shouted, swatting away the bird that flapped at his face, pulling away from the feather-light fingers that touched him, tugged him, urged him … Adam, wake up!
‘Jesus!’ Jolted to consciousness, Adam sat bolt upright, sweat pooling at the base of his neck and tickling its way down his torso. She was here. Her aura was strong, all around him, he could smell her perfume. ‘Emily?’ He blinked against the semi-dark and then he felt it, saw it clearly, etched into her features, ice-cold fear.
Stumbling to his feet, Adam reached for his phone. No messages. He hadn’t expected any. He hadn’t rung her. Why hadn’t he damn well rung her? Selecting Sienna’s number, he let it ring, only to reach her voicemail. What the hell good was that?
‘Sienna,’ he said, ‘it’s Adam. I need you to call me. I …’ What? What did he say that didn’t make his concern seem only for himself? ‘Sienna, whatever’s happened, whatever you’ve decided, please call me. I just need to know you’re safe, that’s all.’ He left it there, not knowing what else to say. She might think he was mad. He might well be mad, but this feeling in his gut, in his soul, it was too strong to ignore.
Stopping only to scramble into his trainers, he crashed out of the boat, leaping the handrail, tripping as he did. ‘Fuck,’ he uttered, dragging himself up from the sodden grass and racing on.
The river was high, heaving, swollen. Adam caught the name whispered on the wind above the rush of the water, Sienna, she said over. It was soft, melodic; urgent. Trying to s
till his panic, quiet his heartbeat, now a rat-a-tat-tat in his chest, Adam hammered on the chandlery door. ‘Nate! Nathaniel!’ He hammered again, pushing his weight against it. He needed him to answer. He needed that address. Now!
‘Sienna, she’s in trouble,’ he said breathlessly as Nathaniel yanked the door open.
‘What?’ Nathaniel whirled around as Adam pushed past him. ‘What do you mean, in trouble? In trouble how?’
‘I don’t know.’ Adam banged into his office, careering around Nathaniel’s desk, pulling out drawers, attempting to find the information himself. ‘Nate, I need her address.’
‘I can’t give it to you, Adam. I’ve told you. How do you know she’s in trouble? Have you spoken to her?’
Adam pulled in a breath, breathed out hard, and banged a drawer shut. ‘No.’
‘So how do you know?’ Nathaniel watched his frustrated progress through filing cabinets. ‘Have you been drinking?’ he asked inevitably.
‘No!’ Adam opened another drawer and ferreted uselessly through it.
‘Right.’ Nathaniel sounded unconvinced. ‘So, enlighten me,’ he said as Adam searched fruitlessly through paperwork on top of the cabinet. ‘How do you know she’s in trouble, if you haven’t spoken to her?’
‘I don’t bloody well know how I know!’ Adam turned to face him. ‘I just do! Nate, please …’ Adam’s shoulders sank. Something had happened. Or was going to happen, he could feel it. How was he supposed to explain that? ‘I don’t know how, Nate, I just do. She’s in trouble. I have to go to her. Please help me.’
The Rest of My Life Page 29