by Jolie Day
Luke had been waiting patiently this entire time. He had held her coat and now came to the other side of the bed when Mira tried to get up carefully. He helped her to her feet and then carefully put the coat over her shoulders.
“I can drive you back to the hotel,” he offered. “Or to your sister’s house — whichever you prefer.”
“That is a great idea,” Suzanne added enthusiastically. “You really should not be alone tonight, and this way, I can check on you every now and again.”
Luke leaned so close to her that his voice was only audible to her ears. “I can stay with you, if you like,” he offered. “Or you can come back to my apartment. I will obviously sleep on my sofa.”
“Thank you, this is really very considerate of you both,” replied Mira as determined as she could. “But I just want to sleep in my own bed.”
“The bed in the hotel is definitely not your own bed,” Suzanne complained. Mira noticed that her sister was just beginning to want to convince her otherwise.
“I am still sure that I don’t want to stay the night anywhere else other than in my hotel.” She turned around and ignored the pleading look of her big sister. “Luke, can you please take me back to the Hyborn?”
Only when she heard his voice did she notice that Detective Santiago had listened to the entire conversation. “Miss Dumont, just one last question, if I may? What was it that you wanted to ask Mr. Carmichael?”
Mira’s expression became like an iron mask and she tried to keep that meaningless expression as well as she could, while she searched for an innocuous answer inside her rattled brain. She couldn’t find any. “I am afraid that I have forgotten.”
His dark eyes followed her all the way until she had left the room.
Chapter 9
In the end, Mira had not given into Luke’s gentle urging, but because of the seriously worried look in his eyes, she had allowed him to stay the night. Obviously, the question of intimacy didn’t really come up, given her injury, at least not for Mira. Even though the pain medication was still working, getting undressed was more or less torture, and all she wanted was to fall into bed and close her eyes, breathing in Mister Knister’s reassuringly familiar smell. Just as he had said, Luke seemed content on the sofa, however, since she didn’t manage to sleep after all, she did hear him come to her door and listen to her breathing a couple of times during the night.
It definitely was a reassuring feeling to know that Luke was in the room next door. Mira lay there replaying the last minutes before the shot over and over in her brain.
It was as if she was watching a movie with herself playing the lead.
Connor got up from the table with a stony expression on his face. She did the same thing and threw her scarf around her shoulders, not so much because she was cold, but more due to an indescribable feeling of needing a protective wall, no matter how thin that wall may be. She saw his blonde head near the checkroom. She stood on her tippy toes, so that she didn’t lose sight of him.
The man opened the door. Connor and — what’s her name again — Tatjana walked outside. Mira ran after them and squeezed through the closing door. It was already dark outside, apart from the light of the street lantern with its yellow light, which gave Connor’s hair color an unnatural tint. Tatjana had walked away from him and looked towards the park, which started to the left across the street. Connor’s head jerked up. He must have heard steps, because he turned around to her. In her memory, his facial expression was completely strange: soft, surprised, and then something else that she couldn’t grasp in her recall. Then, in slow motion, Connor turned his head back and forth, from the right to the left. His eyes stared into the night and now he seemed uneasy, restless, and concerned. Mira ran towards him. She opened her mouth to say something, but did not remember what she had wanted to say. Mira watched how his body tensed up within a split-second. Never before had she seen first-hand what it looked like when a person actually possessed predatory instincts. Connor literally sensed the danger, even though he could not locate where it came from. Then his eyes flew back towards her. She only realized that she had stopped running, when she saw Connor running back towards her. He was almost with her and she had her hands stretched out to him, in an almost pleading gesture. Their eyes found each other.
Even in her memory, that brief period of eye contact sent a half-scared and half-excited shiver through Mira’s body. She was hyperventilating, so she forced herself to stop reminiscing until her breathing had slowed. She made herself aware of the fact that she lay in her bed in the hotel. Luke was next door and nothing could happen to her. It was entirely up to her to stop these memories at any time. As soon as her pulse had somewhat normalized, she allowed herself to pick up that movie in her head once more.
His shoulders in that impeccable tuxedo had been tense, his head moved slowly and systematically from side to side. His eyes scanned their immediate surroundings. Finally, he saw her. Connor shook his head. His unfashionably long hair flew and for just one short moment, the space of one heartbeat, he looked like a Viking from thousands of years ago — hard and unforgiving. His muscles moved inside the tuxedo. He seemed to jump at her from where he stood and then he tore her to the ground.
Why had she not heard the shot? The pain had been there when she replayed that part of the evening over and over again in her head, however, it appeared slightly delayed and only when they both fell to the ground. She felt Connor’s heavy body on top of her, how he shielded her, and then the moment when his weight disappeared again.
This scene replayed on a loop before her very eyes, only interrupted by Luke’s sporadic checking up on her. Mira finally fell asleep around four thirty in the morning and she only woke up when the sun shone through the patio doors. She hadn’t slept for more than five hours, her head felt as if it were wrapped in cotton wool, and her shoulder still hurt pretty bad. “Well, what did you expect,” she exclaimed loudly and then shook her head. Now she was even talking to herself.
The blinking red light on her telephone signaled to her that she had missed a call. Or rather five to ten, Mira thought, and most likely all of them were from Suzanne. Before she called her sister back, however, she wanted to check if Luke was still there. She opened the door separating the two rooms of her hotel suite. The blanket was folded up and neatly left on the armrest of the sofa, and on the table, she found a note. “It’s a shame we weren’t able to have breakfast together, but I had to go to work. I will call you later. Luke.” Mira smiled and then padded towards the bathroom when there was suddenly a knock at the door. She threw her bathrobe on as quickly as she could. She was almost certain that it would be Suzanne, who would more than likely not have been able to contain herself any longer, and now stood in front of her door.
But Suzanne was not the one at the door, instead it was one of the Hyborn’s bellhops. He held a box out to Mira, after he had politely wished her a good morning. “This was left for you, Miss Dumont.”
Mira took the elaborately wrapped package. It was surprisingly light, despite its considerable size. She thanked the young bellhop and then asked him to wait a second, so she could get a tip for him, but he just saluted her with his finger against the somewhat old-fashioned cap he was wearing and grinned widely. “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” he exclaimed. “The gentleman has already paid me generously.” Mira smiled. His slightly antiquated enunciation fit perfectly with his uniform and she asked herself how the hotel management always got so lucky to find only the best people for their profession.
The box demanded almost the entire width of the coffee table. The pompous bow on top contained a card, but Mira still had no idea who the sender could possibly be. “Get well soon,” it said, and nothing else. It wasn’t Luke’s handwriting, because that she had seen that on his note from this morning, but she was almost certain that the writer had been a man. The words were far-reaching and written forcefully, and not written with a normal ballpoint pen, but with ink. Mira sat on the sofa and pulled her ba
throbe tight in front of her chest. Her first impulse had been to open the package immediately and to finally see what was inside the box, but what would happen if this package contained a bomb?
“Okay. Now you have completely lost your mind,” she said loudly. On second thought, was it really that crazy to not open a package when you had just been shot the night before? No, she decided. She would call it being careful. Mira then made the decision to have a shower first, to clear her head. When she looked at the box more thoroughly, she determined that there would hardly be a bomb in there, because it was too light. However, she had seen and heard plenty of horror stories about Anthrax attacks through the mail, so she didn’t consider herself as being overly cautious and paranoid.
The hot water that trickled onto her tired body felt so good, despite the fact that she was very careful to not get the bandage wet. As for washing her hair, that would have to wait for a while, until she was able to lift her arm and move her shoulder somewhat. At least she was able to forgo the sling that she had taken off before she went to bed.
“What are you doing here?” The first thing she saw when she walked back into the living room, was her sister, who had draped herself across the sofa – after she had opened the package. For a quick moment, Mira didn’t know what upset her more: the fact that someone from the hotel had actually let Suzanne into her suite without checking with her first, or the audacity of her sister to just go and open a package addressed to her.
“Good morning to you too,” Suzanne said with a slightly peeved tone in her voice.
“What the hell are you thinking turning up in my hotel suite unannounced?” Mira had held back a lot of anger lately and it was right then that it broke its way loose. She walked towards Suzanne and stood in front of her and the sofa, despite being well aware of the fact that her appearance in a bathrobe wouldn’t exactly be intimidating to her sister.
“I was worried about you,” Suzanne answered almost too calmly and held a piece of fabric out to her. Mira jerked it out of her hand with her healthy arm and threw it angrily into a corner of the room.
“That’s enough,” she said as calmly as she could manage at this point. “You may be my older sister, but I am 25 years old. I have a master’s degree in economic science. I have lived alone in London for over seven years. I am a grown woman.” She had said all of those things in a very calm tone, but when saw her sister’s reaction and how she took a deep, clearly annoyed breath, she lost it. “What on earth is wrong with you? I know that it can’t possibly have been easy for you when you had to take responsibility for your little sister at just 17 years old and also take over the company, but honestly – I have had enough! Just because you don’t have your own life under control, don’t think you can now control mine. Do you understand me?” Immediately after she had spoken the last words, Mira knew right away that she had gone too far. Suzanne sat there, white as a sheet. Her resemblance to their dying mother was so huge, that for a moment Mira felt that she was looking at a ghost. The hair that was tightly brushed back only enhanced the shadows under her eyes and now that they stared at her with a wide look, Mira saw the same green as that of her mother’s eyes. “Oh my god, I am so very sorry,” she said with a whimper and threw her healthy arm around Suzanne’s neck. She could feel her sister shake as she pulled her skinny body towards her, and sat down beside her on the sofa.
“It’s okay,” Suzanne replied with a sniffle. For a couple of seconds Mira could feel how the tension subsided. “You are right. My life is one big pile of shit, you know?” Mira nodded without saying a word. “And it is really very hard to let go of old habits. I have looked after you all of my life and now you ask me to just stop it immediately?”
“I am your sister, not your child,” Mira reminded her, but she could feel that her anger had completely disappeared. “When I need your help, then I will come and tell you. I promise.”
“In that regard you were always like dad. He never asked for help and he never took it, just like you.” She burst out laughing and crying at the same time and Mira felt so incredibly guilty that she had tears in her eyes herself.
“I promise you that I will,” Mira said. “But you must promise me something too.” She paused briefly. Her sister stared at her slightly suspiciously. “When you have a problem, then you come to me too. No matter what it is — I am here for you, always.” She contemplated asking her sister if she wanted to stay with her here at the Hyborn for a while. Maybe a separation from Russell would be a good thing and maybe Mira would actually be able to talk some sense into her. But Suzanne had already recovered and the moment where she would have taken Mira’s offer, was over. She picked up the fabric that had landed on the floor somewhere and handed it to Mira once more.
“Do you see this? It’s a present from Connor.” Her satisfaction at this point was obvious.
“How do you know? There was no name on the card.”
Suzanne actually had the decency to blush. “I read the card inside the box,” she admitted. “I’m sorry that I opened your present without your permission, but I kind of knew that it would be from Connor and I really wanted to know what he had sent you. And you see, I was right. You were the perfect bait for him.”
Mira took a couple of deep breaths, just to calm herself. “Your perfect bait, as you call it, was shot yesterday. Or have you forgotten that already? Someone actually pulled a trigger on a weapon with the intent to kill somebody. And since I, at the age of 25, really don’t have any enemies that would like to see me dead, this attack on my life can only mean two things: Either it was Connor himself who planned this, which I don’t believe by the way — or the shot was meant for him.”
“You haven’t even told me yet why you ran after him,” Suzanne continued as she absentmindedly let the fine fabric playfully run through her fingers. “I thought it had just been a random shooting that you had accidentally ended up in the middle of.”
Mira blinked a few times and bit herself on her lip so that she wouldn’t scream. Just a random shooting? What on earth could possibly be random about a shooting? She ignored the question, to distract Suzanne – and herself for that matter – from the actual event. “Does this mean that you still expect me to be close to Connor, even though there is some crazy person out there trying to kill him?” Then another thought hit her so suddenly that it took her breath away. “Unless you were behind this attempt? Please tell me that that isn’t true!” Her voice had lost its volume. “Have you ordered a killer to murder Connor?” Her sister was desperate and crazy enough that Mira could actually see something like this happening.
“How could you think that about me?” Suzanne’s disgust was real. Mira felt her knees buckle with relief and she was so grateful that she was sitting down right now. “As I said, I honestly thought it was just one of those gang shootings. It is unbelievable that you actually took a bullet for that bastard.” She shrugged.
“You need help,” Mira said dryly, at the same time thinking that she really fancied a whisky, despite the early hour in the day. “You are obsessed with Connor.” She said those words without thinking them through properly. Truth be told, her own nerves were shot too.
“No, I am not.” Suzanne folded her hands in her lap and nobody, who would have seen her right then, would have suspected her of almost losing her mind and having a nervous breakdown. “All I want is justice for what he did to us.”
“But killing him won’t bring dad back.” Mira realized what she was doing, and she would never have thought that she would ever defend Connor. “His case was dismissed. He was set free. Maybe it really wasn’t him. Have you ever considered that you might have started a witch hunt against a man who could possibly be innocent?”
“A witch hunt? What a joke. Did you not see his smug smile when he waltzed in with that supermodel hanging off his arm? He is obviously provoking us.”
“You were the one who invited him and threatened him, do you remember?” She left out the part that the evening had been a
complete disaster. Instead, her sister seemed to think that the evening had been a total success. “Have you ever considered seeing a psychiatrist,” Mira asked softly.
Suzanne snorted. “You sound just like Russell,” she said. “He also constantly wants to send me to a doctor.” She got up. “Talking of doctors — what is the situation? Would you like our family doctor to have a look at your wound? If we leave now…” she quickly checked her watch, “…we can then go and see mom afterwards. What do you think?”
“What, that’s it? You just switch over to your normal agenda?” Mira couldn’t believe it. Her thoughts seemed to be fighting in her head. On the one hand, her sister’s behavior was so unbelievably selfish. On the other hand, it once more confirmed her suspicion that Suzanne really was very close to a complete meltdown. The imminent death of their mother, Connor’s reappearance, all those years being married to Russell, the incredible responsibility… all of these things had finally taken their toll. “Listen to me, sis. I know that you have been under a tremendous amount of stress and I have never really done anything to take some of it off your shoulders. But I promise you, this will change. It has to change.” She pulled Suzanne back onto the sofa and searched her face, looking for her thoughts. Mira took a deep breath. “How about we make a compromise.”
“Okay, but right now, since he has given you this stupid scarf, it would be the perfect opportunity to get closer to him!”
“I know.” For a moment, she sat there silently until she had collected her thoughts. “But please remember just how much power you are giving him over you, over us. Your entire thinking circles solely around the question of how you can bring him to justice. And don’t tell me, it is just about vengeance. That would be a lie.” She let go of Suzanne’s hand when she realized how tight her fingers were holding onto hers. Suzanne’s face was completely blank.