Chapter Twenty

Consequences

Kyle

Standing by the front door, Kyle watched the ambulance pull away, his heart falling as he turned to cast an eye over the empty entranceway.

How has this happened?

His hand rose to rub at his weary temple. How had any of it happened?

Leaning against the doorframe, he pulled in air, conscious that the vast foyer was starting to spin.

“I need a drink,” he mumbled, though as the words left his lips, he knew adding alcohol to the horror show of the last few hours would be a terrible mistake.

If Leonard had been there, he’d have asked the grumpy chef to provide him with an aperitif. Technically, it wasn’t part of the cook’s remit, but on a day like that one was turning into, Kyle was beyond caring. Leonard, though, wasn’t there to greet him in the vestibule. No one was, and brow creasing, he stumbled back inside toward the antique table he’d fucked Amy over.

Emotion caught in his throat as a hot recollection of that wonderful day sprung into his head. They’d been so in love then, so happy and oblivious to the tenets that had created cracks in their flawless dynamic. That had been before she’d found the tenancy files, before she’d worked out part of the truth and listened to him confess the rest, and, of course, before Seth had turned up in his house.

“Fuck.”

Slamming his fist onto the ornate polished wood, he finally ceded to the tears burning in his eyes. All of that had happened and turned their perfect bubble of bliss into drama, then Seth had found the knife he’d dropped and…

Kyle’s eyes squeezed closed as he mentally completed the end of the sentence.

Seth stabbed his mum instead of me.

He folded over the furniture, unable to hold himself up any longer. What had he been thinking, arguing with the kid like he was an equal? Seth was her son and not the hard-working one, but the delinquent. Kyle should have known better than to rile and provoke him. He should have anticipated something awful happening.

He should have done better.

“And now it’s too late.” He clutched at the table for support, barely able to lift his head.

Seth had been aiming for him, but his little girl had thrown herself into the blade’s path, taking its full brunt.

“So much trauma,” he croaked. “Over what?”

A pathetic and futile cock-measuring contest that saw one male ego pitted against the other and had resulted in Amy’s pain. That was the worst part of it, the fact he was struggling to deal with the most—he’d played his part in causing her harm when he’d always promised her he’d never allow that to happen. Yes, he could blame Seth for what had transpired. Seth had been the one clutching the blade, but deep down, Kyle knew he was just as culpable.

If he’d only taken a breath before getting sucked into the fray; if he’d only stopped and thought before he’d spoken.

If only, if only, if only.

None of his whimsical notions made any difference. Amy had been stabbed, and nothing he could do would change that.

Kyle would have to look himself in the mirror and know he’d helped to inflict that wound.

The sound of footsteps on the staircase drew his attention, and glancing up, he saw the preposterously young-looking cop descending.

“Are you okay, sir?” The police constable rushed over, concern etched into his features. Clearly, one bloodied body had been enough for him that day.

“I’m fine.” He needed to pull himself together, although God only knew how he’d manage that. “Are you all done up there?”

“Yes, sir.” The constable slid his notebook into his top pocket. “I’ve interviewed Mr. Kendal and will be in touch.”

That’s it?

Kyle’s head rose too fast, sending the expensive décor whirling around him. “You’re not arresting him?”

“It seems it was only a misunderstanding, Mr. Kyle.”

“But… Amy?” Kyle couldn’t believe it. Sure, Seth hadn’t meant to plunge the knife into his mum, but how did his lack of intent remedy things? What was done was done—however sickening it was. “What about her?”

It didn’t seem like anyone was thinking about her except Kyle. The pounding in his temple throbbed with tragic longing. He’d never be able to escape the woman he loved. Wherever he went, she’d be there with him.

“As I said, we’ll be in touch, sir.” The young guy pressed his lips into a thin line. “Did the paramedics have time to check you over before they left?”

“What?” Kyle scowled. “I’m fine.” Why was the cop fussing about him? Kyle wasn’t the one who’d lost too much blood too fast.

“Well, if you’re sure.” He shifted from one foot to the next.

“I have to go to the hospital.” Kyle turned toward the door, shying away from the daylight as though it might burn him. “I should have gone in the ambulance, but I just couldn’t…” His voice trailed away.

“I understand, sir,” the constable cooed. “It must have been a dreadful shock for you.”

That was one way of putting it. In one heart-stopping moment, Seth had turned Kyle’s entire world on its head.

He turned away from the prattling officer, replaying the scene over and over in his head. Kyle hadn’t seen the knife. He hadn’t known Seth had picked it up and had it with him, but he supposed he should have guessed. Amy’s son was only just out of jail, and he’d broken into Brock Hall on his first day of freedom. Clearly, he hadn’t been thinking straight.

“Let me take you to the hospital, sir.”

Kyle tuned in to hear the cop continuing.

“I wouldn’t recommend you drive for the time being.”

He wanted to argue with the youngster, who scarcely looked old enough to drive himself, but Kyle didn’t have the will. The idea of doing anything other than clinging to the table seemed overwhelming. It was quite unlike his regular mood.

“Okay.” He sighed, resigning himself to be driven around in the cop car for the time being. “What about him?” He gestured to the upstairs, unable to bring himself to say Seth’s name. He was still up there, though—after everything he’d done—still wandering around Kyle’s home as though he owned the place.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to travel together, sir.” The constable’s brow furrowed. “Why not leave Mr. Kendal here for the time being.”

“Yes.” He hated that he needed to acquiesce, but yet again, the cop was right. Kyle couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Seth there, let alone traveling in the same car. For the time being, Amy’s eldest son would have to stay where he was. “But I don’t trust him here on his own.”

“My colleague can stay for now.” The constable signaled to the equally youthful female officer who’d appeared from the doorway.

“Thanks.” He heaved in a breath as he forced himself to straighten.

The last thing he’d been expecting as he’d made love to Amy in his bed that morning was that he’d be permitting the police to take him to the hospital after she’d been stabbed. He could hardly get his head around what had transpired.

“Are you ready?” The constable tugged his car keys from his pocket.

Was he ready—ready to visit the love of his life in the one place he never wanted to see her?

How could any one be ready for that?

With one final glance around his home, Kyle replied with the only words he could muster.

“I guess so.”

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