Lying in Shadows

by Sofia Grey

  She heard more shouts and a harsh metal-on-metal screech, and then everything changed again.

  Part of the wall had collapsed. In that moment, Marianne knew the building was on the verge of coming down. They needed to get out. How? It wasn’t like there’d be a working elevator. Where were the stairs? The emergency exits? She was disoriented.

  God, how she wished she were anywhere else. She pushed to her knees, and then stood, wiping the dirt from her eyes. Where were the others?

  Rico lay motionless. One of the men knelt beside him, hands covered in blood.

  “Live, damn you,” shouted the man. “Don’t you dare give up.”

  The other man bowed his head. “We can’t leave him here. He wouldn’t leave any of us behind.”

  Minutes ago, Rico was alive. Rescuing her. And now he was gone. There were times he irritated her and times she disliked him, but he was always honest, and he came back for her. Marianne was numb. It felt like her brain shutting down and blocking off her emotions. Fear—gone. Pain—blanked. Guilt—wiped away. She stood and watched, unable to move. She could have been paralysed.

  The men picked up Rico’s body and carried him out between them, with Marianne leading the way. Her leg hurt like fuck, but she’d crawl on her hands and knees if she had to. She found a set of stairs that were passable, and they emerged to dull, grey daylight.

  At first she thought it was foggy, but then she realised it was dust hanging like smog in the air. She turned and stared at the remains of the TM-Tech tower. What the fuck happened in there?

  Paramedics rushed to her and led her to a waiting ambulance. “I need to find Marcus,” she told the medic, as he guided her to sit down. “I can’t go until I’ve seen him.”

  The man spoke, but she struggled to hear him over the constant buzz in her ears. Ignoring her request for Marcus, he wrapped a pressure cuff around her arm and started to inflate it.

  “Rico’s gone,” she told him. The words sounded garbled so she tried again. “I need to tell Sylvie.” Exhaustion crashed over her. “Tell Sylvie I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  * * * *

  Alex had almost given up hope, when he saw figures emerging from the rubble. Maz was in the front, limping but mobile, tears pouring down her face and washing stripes into the white dust.

  Behind her, Jack and Tanner carried Rico. Their grief needed no words of explanation. They laid his body on the ground and covered his face with a blanket. It was only then that Sylvie allowed the paramedics to load her into an ambulance.

  * * * *

  Marianne awoke and found herself in a bed with unfamiliar white sheets and a grey blanket. Sterile white walls and the stink of disinfectant added to the picture. Either she was in hospital or in some fucked up version of heaven.

  An annoying, high pitched beeping sounded somewhere close, and the sound of voices filtered in. The ringing in her ears was now a dull background buzz, and she slowly became aware someone sat next to her bed. She turned her head and winced at the ache that ensued.

  It was her father.

  “Dad?” It came out as a croak, but he looked up. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  He smiled and looked surprised at the same time. “I had a call that my youngest daughter was rushed to hospital after an incident at work. I was hardly going to sit in my office and ignore it.”

  An incident. That was one way to describe it. And maybe that was for the best. She wasn’t ready to think about the kidnapping yet, let alone talk about it. Surely the police would want to see her. Get her story. Not yet. There was something far more important.

  “Dad, I need you to do something for me. Please.”

  He put down his phone and gave her his attention. “What is it?”

  “My—” Lover? Boyfriend? Fiancé? “My boss. I need to know how he is. If he’s in this hospital.” Or if he didn’t make it. She gripped the sheets tight at the idea. “His name is Marcus Reeve. Will you please ask?”

  When her father came back a couple hours later with the news that Marcus was in Intensive Care, she wanted to weep with relief. He was alive. She could go see him. Be honest about how much she loved him. She allowed herself to imagine a future they might have together, and it looked wonderful.

  She had to stay overnight for observation, and she dozed off, counting the hours until she was released.

  Her father called by with new clothes. Asking him to buy new ones was easier than asking him to go to her apartment, even if it meant what he brought didn’t quite fit properly. They were clothes. As soon as she was discharged from the ward, she headed up to the ICU. Her ankle ligaments were torn, so walking was painful, but she managed with a crutch. Apart from an array of cuts and bruises, she was fine. How could she escape, while Rico died? It made no sense. She had to visit Sylvie, but Marcus came first. From now, he always would.

  She gave her name at the desk and asked to see Marcus. No, she wasn’t next of kin. She wasn’t family either. She was his fiancée—did that count?

  Not when his wife was already in the room with him.

  Marianne had to sit down. It never occurred to her that Louisa would visit him. Did he want to see his wife? Had a near-death experience opened his eyes to rekindling his marriage?

  She didn’t know what to do, so she stayed where she was, on an uncomfortable chair outside the ICU. Nurses and doctors whisked in and out. Visitors came and went. Patients were wheeled back and forth, and Marianne checked eagerly to see if Marcus was on any of the trolleys, but she didn’t see him.

  Hours passed, but then Louisa emerged from the ward. She walked slowly, as though every muscle hurt. Her beautiful blonde hair looked limp and unwashed, and her face was bare of makeup.

  Louisa paused by her seat, and they stared at each other. “This,” said Louisa, her voice husky, “is all your fault. If you hadn’t taken up with my husband, we wouldn’t be here now.”

  Marianne didn’t move. “I want to see him.”

  “You’ve got some nerve.”

  “I love him.”

  That silenced Louisa for a few moments, but then she laughed. “He doesn’t want to see you. You’re nothing to him.”

  That hurt, and Marianne forgot to be on her guard. “He asked me to marry him. I’m not nothing.”

  Pain flashed in Louisa’s eyes, and she tightened her lips. “Things have changed. Please leave, before I ask security to throw you out.”

  Was she lying? “Has he asked to see me?”

  “No.” Louisa’s smile was triumphant. “He hasn’t mentioned you once.”

  There wasn’t so much a ring of truth, as a giant bell pealing in Louisa’s words, and Marianne sagged. What to do now?

  She couldn’t face Sylvie, not yet. She couldn’t cope with anybody around her, not even her father. There was nothing else but to go back to her little temporary apartment.

  The lock had been forced, and the door hung ajar. She gazed at the mess on the floor. The blood stains where they’d hurt Marcus. The coffee grains. Everywhere she looked, all she saw was Marcus.

  A life without him was impossible to consider.

  * * * *

  Sylvie felt raw, as though her skin had been peeled back. She had no defences. If she closed her eyes, she could block out the world. Pretend she wasn’t lying in a hospital bed. Pretend Rico was still alive.

  She squeezed her eyes tight shut, but it didn’t work. Her last image of Rico, his face bloodied and filthy with dust, could have been burned on her retinas. It was all she saw.

  A door closed. The chair nearest to her creaked. She knew without looking it would be Alex, and she opened her eyes. He was the only one who didn’t hover over her. He sat with her for hours, policed the steady stream of visitors, and coaxed her to take a drink or eat something.

  “Your brothers are here again,” he said. “They want to see you.”

  She shrugged, and then wished she hadn’t. Every part of her body ached, but if she was offered some cosmic deal to have a broke
n body for the rest of her life but keep Rico alive, she’d agree in an instant.

  His final words to her played on an endless auto-repeat in her head. Did he know, when he went back into the building?

  Marianne had visited and told her how Rico saved both their lives, but Sylvie had nothing to say.

  “Syl? Your brothers?” Alex interrupted her thoughts.

  “Sure.” Last time they came, she’d been floating after a dose of pain meds and got away with saying nothing.

  “Hey, sis. How are you?” Matt held out a huge bouquet of flowers, while Jimmy clutched a box of chocolates.

  “Why don’t I get coffee?” Alex’s voice was mild, but Sylvie felt a moment of panic.

  “No. Stay, please,” she said.

  “Sure.” He pulled up another chair and turned to Matt. “You’re the one in the band, right?”

  Thank God for Alex. Sylvie closed her eyes and leaned back, tuning out the low buzz of conversation. She loved her brothers and her parents, but so much happened in the past few weeks they knew nothing about. They didn’t know Rico existed, much less that she was in love with him.

  She couldn’t summon the energy to talk.

  She tried again to pretend this was all a bad dream. She preferred the world with Rico in it.

  * * * *

  Marianne lost track of time over the next few days. There were interviews with the police and periods where she struggled to get out of bed. Every time she tried to sleep, her brain took her right back to the stinking basement room at TM-Tech, and she jerked awake, a scream on her lips. She still didn’t know what happened to Marcus after they were separated, and she only had the vaguest idea of what happened in the tower block. She needed to fill the gaps, and there was one person she figured would know. Whether he’d talk to her was another matter.

  She had no cell phone until she replaced it, but she still had her work laptop. She fired it up, astonished to see it was Saturday. She counted back in her head. She’d been kidnapped on Tuesday morning. It felt like years ago.

  It took minutes to send a polite email to Jordan, requesting a debriefing session with him, and then she showered and dressed, and applied make up. Next stop was the hospital, for another attempt at seeing Marcus.

  She waited at the elevators in the hospital lobby, impatient now she was here. When the bell pinged, and the doors slid open, it was to show Jordan. The surprise on his face probably mirrored hers.

  “Marianne. I’ve been trying to call you, but it keeps dropping to voicemail.”

  “My phone was taken,” she said. “I’ll get it replaced today. Can I come back to you later?”

  His face was sombre as usual. Even wearing a soft cotton shirt and jeans, he radiated as much confidence and power as if he wore a pinstriped suit. “I think we need to talk. Let’s go and sit down.”

  Her heart sank. Not now, she wanted to plead. Sure, she’d asked for a meeting with him, but she didn’t expect him to reply so quickly. “Can we do this later? I want to see Marcus.”

  “It’s about Marcus.”

  With those three words, what was left of her world collapsed. Uncaring that Jordan probably despised her, she grabbed his arm, the only thing that might keep her upright. “Oh my God. Did he...?” She couldn’t ask the question that burned inside her. Was she too late? Were his injuries too severe? “Is he...?” Her heart pounded so hard, she felt faint.

  Jordan whisked her away from the elevators and to a row of plastic chairs nearby. “Sit,” he ordered, and she complied. “You look as though you’re about to fall over.”

  “Marcus? Please tell me. Is he still here?”

  “Yes, and the good news is they’re transferring him out of ICU.”

  Marianne closed her eyes and let relief wash over her. Her limbs felt weak in the aftermath, as though she’d been tossed around in a tidal wave. “Thank God,” she whispered. She opened her eyes again and looked up at Jordan. “Is there bad news too?”

  “Not for you, I guess.” Jordan ran a hand across his chin, at the stubble Marianne had never seen there before. “When he woke up, after checking Louisa and Ted were safe, his first thoughts were for you. It’s why I was coming to find you.”

  Jordan’s words sank in and permeated the fog of exhaustion that weighed down on her. “But you hate me.” She was so tired, her brain-mouth filter was offline.

  His mouth twisted. “I’m Marcus’s oldest friend. Above all, I want him to recover, and that’s not gonna happen while he’s worrying about you.”

  She still couldn’t believe it. “Louisa insisted he hadn’t mentioned me.”

  “He didn’t until an hour ago. He only just regained consciousness, Marianne. You coming with me, to see him?”

  ****

  Every part of Marcus hurt. He guessed the tube running into the back of his hand was feeding him painkillers, but they only dulled the roar to a constant hum. It felt as though he’d been run over by a herd of angry elephants. At first, he didn’t remember what happened. Why he lay there, wired up to beeping machines, a plastic oxygen mask chafing his face.

  He saw Louisa, her eyes red and swollen, and he was puzzled. Was she crying?

  “Hey,” he tried to say, but it came out as a hoarse rasp. His mouth was as dry as the Sahara. He pushed at the mask, but the movement sent a shock wave through his body, and he froze, stunned.

  —the fuck?

  A smiling nurse leaned over him and removed the mask. “Would you like a sip of water, Mr. Reeve?”

  He grunted. It was easier than speaking. His brain could have been buried in molasses, for the speed at which it worked. He was in the hospital. His head felt like an axe was buried in it. His left eye was blurry, but his right one focused okay.

  The tepid water dripped into his mouth was delicious. He ran his tongue over cracked lips and caught every last drop. “More,” he whispered and was rewarded with another sip.

  He gazed at Louisa, now talking in an undertone to the nurse. There was something important he needed to remember. Someone.

  Where was his son?

  “Ted?” he asked.

  Louisa smiled at him, her lips wobbly. “He’s fine. Kate’s looking after him. We were rescued in time.”

  Like a door opening in his brain, memories swamped him faster than he could process them. Marianne. The men bursting into her apartment. Hearing her cry of fear. The horror of knowing Louisa and Ted had been kidnapped. Hearing Marianne scream when they dragged Marcus away the last time.

  “Marianne,” he said.

  Louisa stepped forwards, her jaw tight, and closed her hand over his. “She’s fine.”

  Fine wasn’t good enough. He was petrified she was still held as a hostage. “Marianne,” he repeated. “Where is she?”

  “Don’t worry about her.” Louisa clearly wasn’t happy.

  He gazed at the drips in his hands. “Get me Marianne, or I’ll go find her myself.”

  “Now then, Mr. Reeve—” started the nurse, but he spoke over her.

  “I’ll pull these out if I have to. Where is Marianne?”

  Louisa fled. The nurse scolded him, but Marcus didn’t give a fuck. He needed to see Marianne and prove to himself she was okay. Nothing else would do.

  “Marcus.”

  He looked up and saw Jordan.

  “I’ll get Marianne, but you have to stay here. You trust me, don’t you?” Jordan said.

  “Yeah.”

  He remembered more after Jordan left the room and closed the door with a gentle snick. He’d asked Marianne to marry him, only she wanted to wait. Was that a way of saying no? He’d been an ass. It didn’t change how much he loved her or wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

  Lying here, waiting for Jordan to return, he felt as though several ice ages rolled by. He was nauseous with worry by the time his friend opened the door again.

  “You awake?” Jordan’s smile looked strained. “I’ve got someone here who wants to see you.”

  Marianne. A d
irty bruise marred her beautiful cheek, and her eyes were red and puffy, but her smile overwhelmed him. He opened his arms, and she flew into them. She leaned over the bed and pressed tiny kisses across his face. Moisture hit his chin, and he realised she was crying.

  “Ask me now,” she said, hiccupping through her tears.

  “Are you okay, baby?”

  “Not that, but yes. I am now.” She rubbed at her eyes. “Ask me the other question. The one I ducked before.”

  Realisation trickled in, along with a yawn that made his jaw ache. “Marianne Dean,” he whispered, “will you marry me?”

  “God, yes. The minute you’re free. I love you so much.”

  He closed his eyes, weary after all the stress. “Love you too, baby.” He could sleep now. He had a million things to sort out, but Marianne, Ted and Louisa were all fine. Everything else could wait.

  * * * *

  Alex eventually pieced the stories together. Rico with Jack and Tanner moved enough debris to free Marianne from her metal cage, but one of the interior walls collapsed onto Rico in the process. He had no chance. Did he know, going in? Sylvie maintained his Saint Christopher medal protected her, but at the cost of his life.

  Jack tried to ambush Darius Gibson in the new datacentre, but he was caught in a gunfight with him. Jack dove for cover in the stairwell at the crucial moment, while Darius took the full blast of the explosives, but that was what he intended anyway.

  There were numerous casualties in the explosion, and seven people lost their lives, including two techs from the datacentre.

  The virus was unleashed on the entire TM-Tech network. In addition to having a ruined building, TM-Tech would suffer from a severely damaged reputation and loss of business for years to come, according to Jordan.

  Marcus was recovering slowly in hospital, with Maz as glued to his side as Alex was to Sylvie’s.

  Louisa existed in a state of limbo, much as Alex did. She wandered in and out of the wards, hating to see Marcus with Maz but unable to stay away.