Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
I FELT SURPLUS to requirements as everyone swarmed around Black, asking questions. Things were still tense between us, and guilt weighed on my shoulders as if Hercules himself was pushing down on them. Why hadn’t I put the pieces together sooner?
Like when the initial warning call came in on my red phone? Hector or Diego must have got my number out of Black’s. Why hadn’t I questioned that? And while I was messing around chasing Carlos’s murderers on a motorbike, Black’s abductors had used the chaos to sneak him out of the hotel. If I’d asked more questions at the time, I might have found a witness.
But I didn’t.
Then, after all the mess with Luke and his half-brother, why hadn’t something fired off in my brain? If my synapses had bothered to do their job, maybe the possibility of Black having an unknown sibling would have occurred to me, even if the odds of it were worse than beating the house in Vegas.
Two men. Two unknown brothers.
Hadn’t Black taught me that anything was possible? That I should look at problems from every angle?
I laughed softly to myself. What if I had a sister out there? I might have. Especially as my father was most likely an idiot. Or a cousin? Or a— Stop it, Emmy .
No, I hadn’t thought things through with Black. And I should have. Instead, I’d fallen victim to my own feelings and wallowed in self-pity like a selfish little cow.
How could he ever forgive me for what I’d done when I couldn’t forgive myself?
Dan laughed, and Nate popped the cork on the first bottle of champagne. Not to be outdone, Bradley lugged in a box of indoor fireworks and an entire vineyard. The atmosphere crackled with happiness, and excitement, and…freaking glitter. Oh, Bradley. My eyes cut to the window. Fat drops of rain plopped against it, the grey sky matching my mood.
I melted out of the room and made my way to the basement. The dusty cabinet slid to the side on hidden runners, and I slipped through the door behind, the darkness calling me. My footsteps echoed off the concrete as I walked and then ran through the tunnel.
When I emerged at the other end, scattered pizza boxes still lay on the table, the movie room untouched since the night Diego’s men attacked. I didn’t want to see the awful state I knew the rest of the place would be in. I’d designed and built that house from scratch, and although I kept telling myself that it was only stuff, and it could all be replaced, I still choked when I looked at the wreckage.
I’d needed to get out of the kitchen at Riverley Hall, though. It was easier to deal with the ruins of my home than the ruins of what I’d once had with Black.
Instead of dwelling on the past, I forced myself to think of something positive. While the doctor had been assessing Dan’s leg earlier, I’d visited Seth in the specialist burns unit, and he’d improved markedly since I last saw him. Tomorrow, the doctors planned to undertake an experimental procedure with artificial skin grafts, and the medical team were hopeful he’d make a good recovery. Even better was the news he didn’t have any internal damage.
“Good thing I fell down that hole, wasn’t it?” he said.
“These things are relative, but yes.”
“And you got the men who did it?”
I nodded.
“Saves Justin a job. Carla hasn’t been able to get him out of that Batman costume.”
“There are worse things he could be.”
“You’re right.” He paused to cough, then his tone grew serious. “Mick’s funeral’s in ten days. Will you go? Reckon I’ll still be stuck in here.”
I squeezed his good hand. “Of course.”
“Carla wants to go too. You’ll look after her?”
“I promise.”
Although I’d have to put on a brave face for everyone. I hated funerals.
And I hated the state of my home. As I wandered through downstairs, the damage was every bit as bad as I’d feared. The fire, hot and intense, had swept through several rooms before the sprinklers brought it under control. Although they’d done their job, the resulting trails of sooty water got everywhere. They’d dried into black streaks down the walls, the tears of a tortured abode. A macabre tribute to death.
The kitchen was worse, a mass of charred, splintered wood and chipped granite. Jagged bottles lay in the debris of the wine cooler, and the faint whiff of their contents permeated through the smoky atmosphere. The interior designer would have apoplexy when she saw it. Her jaw had dropped enough last time when I’d accidentally shot up the kitchen in my sleep.
Back then, there were bullet holes everywhere, and rather than tell the truth, I’d fibbed and said I woke up that morning and decided I simply couldn’t live with the décor anymore. She’d looked at me like I’d grown another head. Still, it was better than admitting I didn’t remember doingit.
Now there were craters in the walls upstairs and downstairs, blood on the carpet, blood on the furniture, and more holes in the dining table courtesy of Alex. In the downstairs hallway, I could tell someone had used a bigger gun than I did, because a mass of brain matter decorated the wall by the window. Alex and lucky visitor number thirteen? Thankfully I’d told Bradley to leave the place alone before I left for Colombia—he’d have flipped if he saw that.
I poked my head through the back door and found outside hadn’t escaped either. Carmen had made a mess with her sniper rifle, and although the rain was making quite an effort, brownish stains still decorated the path.
Boards covered the broken windows and the electricity was turned off, making my normally bright and airy house dark and gloomy. I sank down on the remains of the couch and drew my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and resting my head on my knees.
“Why is everything such a great big mess?” I asked aloud.
Black’s voice came out of the darkness. I hadn’t even heard him come in—yet more evidence of my incompetence. “Because you had a great big gunfight, Diamond.”
He sat on the other end of the couch, perching on the edge as if he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to stay or go. A sliver of light from outside highlighted his face.
“I think that end’s still damp. And I wasn’t just talking about the house, Black. I was talking about us.”
“I know.” He sat back, staring into space, and let out a sigh.
We turned to each other and our eyes locked, briefly, before we both looked away.
“I screwed up,” we said in unison.
Our eyes met again. His showed surprise this time.
But I recovered first. “You screwed up? What are you on about?”
“I let my guard down and managed to get abducted. In a hotel, for crying out loud. Then I couldn’t find a way out. I put you through eight months of trouble. Nate said you didn’t cope very well.”
“I didn’t.” That was the understatement of the millennium. “But I should have. Instead of trying to find you, I accepted you were dead and lost the plot.”
“Emmy, the cops did a DNA test on a charred corpse. There was no reason either one of us should have suspected I had a twin brother.”
I gripped the edge of the couch, and it flaked in my hand. “But there were little inconsistencies. Looking back, I can see that now. I should have tried harder. And I hurt everyone else as well when I ran off without telling them where I was. Then when Luke helped me, I did nothing but lie to him.”
“Luke? Are we talking about the same Luke who’s in my kitchen? The one that’s dating Mack?”
“Yes.”
He raised one gorgeous eyebrow. “I’m confused.”
“I kind of had a thing with him for a couple of months.” It seemed like a decade ago now. “I came out of hiding when his sister got kidnapped and I needed the team’s help to find her. Two months I lived in his home, he gave me all of him, and I didn’t tell him so much as my real name. I couldn’t have got through that time without him. He was a rock. At least some good came out of this and he ended up meeting Mack. They’re good together.”
“When you were living with him, do you mean sleeping with him?”
“Yes.”
His eyes darkened then turned curious. “Doesn’t it feel odd now he’s with Mack?”
“A little, but I don’t feel as if it was really me with Luke. It was some strange, hollowed-out version of me. She looked like Emmy and sounded like Emmy, but there was nothing inside. He’s not the type of man I’d go for at all if I was feeling myself.”
“I’m glad he was there for you. I’m just sorry I wasn’t.”
“Stop apologising. It was my fault. At least you had Akari.” I took a deep breath “You two seem close.”
“Hers was the only friendly face I saw in that pit, but we barely got a chance to speak. The guards were always around, so it was just whispers when she brought my food. I tried to get her to find me a weapon, something I could use to get myself out of there, but she was too scared.” He shook his head infinitesimally. “I’d have needed another eight months to convince her.”
“I wonder if she’s looking to you as a replacement for your brother?”
“It sounds odd when you say ‘brother.’” He paused, turning things over in his mind. “I’ll help her with money and moral support, but I’ll never be a replacement for Carlos. She’s sweet and compliant, and I need more of a challenge. I like a woman with a few sharp edges, Emmy. You must know that.”
Okay, this conversation was weird. Black’s preference in women wasn’t something we’d made a habit of talking about, and I didn’t relish the idea of starting now. Time to move on.
“So what now?”
He sat still for a long moment. He had that habit, the one of thinking things through. Not like me. Nine times out of ten, I’d jump in, foot in mouth, and say something inappropriate.
Eventually, he spoke. “Well, I think I screwed up, and you think you screwed up. But we got through it and we’re both here now. Luke’s happy with Mack, and Akari’s got her family back. So can we just put the past eight and a half months behind us, go back home, and be screwed up together? Like we always used to? If we dwell on the past, it’ll eat away at our sanity and destroy us.”
“I don’t know if I can. You were always the strong one, Black.”
He shifted and looked at me, and my breath hitched. I was used to him delving into my soul, but at that moment, his guard came down and I could see into his.
“Because I had you. When we met, you completed a part of me I didn’t know was missing. I was always strong because you needed me to be, but I only had that strength because you gave it to me in the first place. So please, Emmy, understand how much I need you.”
He turned away, and his hand came up to swipe at his cheek.
Fudge.
How should I react? He’d never said anything like that before. Never given any indication that he needed me as much as I needed him. I wanted more than anything to have the kind of life we used to have, though. And more. How could I tell him I wanted more?
He waited for me to say something.
I needed to say something.
Say something, Emmy.
“Well, when you put it like that, I’ll try, okay? I want things to be how they were as well.”
Gah! That was terrible. The words I really wanted to say were stuck in my throat. Three little words I’d never uttered to anybody.
Three little words, eight tiny letters, one big deal.
Because once I said them, I couldn’t take them back.
Black’s lips parted slightly, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something else. But he didn’t. Instead, he sat in silence for a minute or two, staring at the blackened wall. When my nerves had begun to stretch, stretch, stretch, he stood up.
“You’re right; this couch is still damp. Let’s go home. It’s late, and we both need sleep.”
He held out his hand, and I reached up and took it. Effortlessly, he pulled me to my feet, and I took my place at his side. I never wanted to be anywhere else. Never . As darkness fell, we walked back through the tunnel, our palms heating as they joined us.