Chapter 26 #2
Before my legs give way under the weight of my body, he wraps his arms around me.
He pulls me into his chest and lowers me to the sodden grass in his lap.
I feel the touch of his lips on my head and the gentle tug of his body rocking me.
He warms my cold, wet body as we sit. The rain pounds again, washing away my gushing tears.
My world fades to black, the shade of my soul.
‘I’ve got her; grab the door,’ Gregory says.
He lifts me into the back of the Mercedes and rests my head on his lap. I open my eyes wearily to see Jackson glance at me in the rear-view mirror before he pulls us away from the cemetery.
‘Drop us off then get some food, something warm; she needs to eat,’ Gregory says quietly.
‘Sandy,’ I croak.
‘She’s fine, angel; she’s with Amanda.’
The cold from my wet clothes seeps into my bones and my body starts to shiver uncontrollably.
My teeth chatter and my breathing becomes audible.
Gregory lifts me from his lap and pulls me into his chest, stroking my hair with his warm hand.
His soft lips press against my scalp and like a baby, I drift to the fringe of lucidity, exhausted.
* * *
Jackson wakes me when he opens the back door.
‘Do you want me to carry her?’
I recognise the underground car park of the Shard.
‘I can walk.’
In truth, my legs are weak and my body is still trembling from the cold. My head is so confused, I don’t know what I am or what I should be feeling but I know there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be than with Gregory.
The elevator pings as it arrives at the basement.
Gregory gestures for me to step in ahead of him.
I watch my feet as we rise in silence, neither of us knowing where to go from here.
I’m exhausted. My dad is dead and I have no idea how to talk to the man I love.
This all started because of one sick bastard. And he’s out there.
Gregory opens the door to his apartment with a hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the lounge.
‘Take this off,’ he says, undoing the belt around my mac and pulling it from my shoulders. I’m even colder without it.
‘I’ll run you a bath.’
I walk to the window and look out over the city. Gregory was born into a life he didn’t deserve, that no child deserves. And his demon is down there somewhere, hiding. Weaving between buildings. Most likely out of his mind with a toxic combination of alcohol and the thrill of my dad’s kill.
‘Here,’ Gregory says handing me a crystal glass with a small amount of brandy in the bottom.
He wraps a wool blanket around my shoulders and I sit down onto the sofa, pulling my knees into my freezing-cold chest. The glass shakes in my hand as I shudder, part from cold, part from seething hatred.
‘I want to kill him,’ I whisper.
‘Pardon?’
‘I. Want. To. Kill. Him.’ The words leave my mouth through gritted teeth.
Gregory takes a seat on the sofa beside me, his legs wide, his elbows resting on his knees.
‘Don’t let it take over you, Scarlett. He’s not worth it.’
He takes the brandy from my hands, then leads me to the bathroom. The freestanding bath is deep and full of bubbles. The lights are dim and Gregory has lit candles around the room.
I cast my eyes from the bath to him.
‘I’ll leave you to it. I’m sorry but this is the best I can do for now.’ He pats the blue hooded jumper he’s placed on the heated chrome towel rail.
‘Thank you.’
I watch him leave the room, his white shirt still tucked into his trousers, despite the events of the last few hours. He should be working.
Sinking into the bubbles, the hot water stings my skin at first then settles to soothe me. I close my eyes and see Gregory, pulling his own hair in the lounge. Dipping my head beneath the water, I stare up to the dark ceiling, candles flickering in my vision.
‘He’ll never be free,’ I whisper to myself.
I realise that the hate, the anger I feel now, Gregory has felt all his life.
The little boy I keep seeing felt like this instead of having a childhood.
What he said about the children in the hospital – how they should be shielded from the darkness of the world – it all makes sense now.
I want to end it for him. I want revenge for my dad and an end to Gregory’s pain.
The hooded jumper only just preserves my modesty. Gregory watches me as I walk from the bathroom, towel drying my hair, to the kitchen island where he’s perched on a stool, now wearing jeans and a fitted, black tee.
‘You showered,’ I say, acknowledging his wet hair and fresh scent.
He continues to watch me, his head moving with me as I walk towards him.
He clears his throat. ‘Jackson brought food. You should eat something.’
Standing from his stool, he lifts the lids from the various dishes he’s set out on the island.
‘Salmon. Chicken. Pasta.’
I run my hand down the length of his spine and press myself against his side. ‘Kiss me.’
Gregory turns, his back against the bench, and pulls my waist into his.
He runs his fingers tenderly down the side of my face and exhales, long and slow, a slight shudder in his breath.
Then his lips are on mine, his hands holding my cheeks.
I let my mouth linger on his, enjoying the sensation.
His tongue parts my lips and touches mine.
I bite his lower lip and he groans, pulling my hips into his hard crotch.
My legs part instinctively. Breathing softly onto his neck, I lift the bottom of his T-shirt, exposing his chest.
‘We don’t have to do this,’ he whispers.
‘I want to. I want to forget.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Help me forget.’
I kiss his pecs and pull his tee roughly over his head.
He grabs my bare arse cheeks and I grind against him. His groan reverberates in my mouth, taking my last ounce of conservatism. I roughly undo the button of his jeans and he pulls the hooded jumper over my head, uncovering my naked body.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he whispers.
I don’t let myself think of anything: not why we’ve been apart, not how I’ve felt in that time, and not how I truly feel about him.
I yank him towards me and kiss him fiercely.
He lifts me and shifts us so that I’m sitting on the island.
I wrap my legs around him, pulling him into me, feeling his length beneath his jeans.
He strokes his hand through my wet hair and I kiss him harder.
I can’t stand it any more. I want him. I need him.
He leans me back to lie on the island and slips off his jeans.
I feel bereft in the brief seconds it takes for him to climb on top of me.
Supporting his entire weight with one strong arm and tracing the contours of my body with his other, he places his lips on mine and pushes his hand between my legs, first cupping me then moving his fingers inside. I groan with desperation.
‘God, Scarlett, what are you doing to me?’
My eyes widen. Exactly what you’re doing to me, I hope.
My hips rise towards him and I dig my nails into his back.
He resists me at first then in his own time, he lowers himself.
He’s inside me. My breathing deepens with each thrust of his body, my muscles clamping down on his stiff shaft.
My impulse to push back against him increases and I feel myself move slowly to a heady euphoria, a place I’ve longed for, where there’s no one and nothing else.
He drives and rotates simultaneously, stiffening further. He’s almost ready. Squeezing my legs tighter around his waist, I push my hips up until he’s so deep, he reaches the end of me. I’m lost in him. Out of my own head. All his.
Another gorgeous grind and his name leaves me as we climax together.
He collapses onto my chest and it’s my turn to stroke his hair as his body trembles.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says when we eventually dress. ‘I didn’t mean to?—’
I pull his chin to look at me and gently kiss him. ‘Now, salmon gets my vote,’ I say.
‘Salmon it is,’ he says, unsmiling.
We eat dinner on the sofa, probably the most informal we’ve been together, and it’s remarkably comfortable.
Gregory dims the lights low enough that we can see the stars in the sky and occasional red flashes of aeroplane lights flying by, going in and out of Heathrow and London City airports.
He pulls the glass coffee table closer and plants his bare feet on top of it, then wraps an arm around me and pulls me into his side.
I don’t want to ruin the moment, I could stay in this moment forever, but I have questions he needs to answer.
‘I need to ask you some things.’
He sips his wine. ‘Okay.’
‘Let’s start with the note. You said there was a note and that’s how you knew to come to the hospital.’
He takes a deep breath, bracing himself, then moves towards the window, his hands resting in his jeans’ pockets, his bare back tense.
‘Do you remember the first time you stayed here?’
A half-smile rises on my lips. He glances over his shoulder but his face is serious. My smile fades.
‘That night, during the night, someone tried to tamper with the apartment alarm.’ He glances back at me but I don’t react.
‘It’s not the first time someone’s tried something.
Money and power can attract a lot of animosity.
Jackson checked the stairwells, lifts, ground floor and there was nothing.
The concierge hadn’t noticed anyone coming into or out of the building. Then he checked the basement.’
Gregory turns to face me, shaking his head. ‘I honestly had no idea, Scarlett.’ Turning back to face the outside world, he continues, ‘There was pen or paint – I never saw it – on the window screen of the Mercedes. It said… it said, “Accidents Happen” . ’
I swallow a lump in my throat. ‘He meant my dad.’
‘We didn’t know for sure. God, I should’ve realised that he knew who you were and got Jackson to step up security right after we closed the deal.
He used to be in the forces, then the police, and has a lot of friends still there or ex-cops who do similar work to him.
So, the next day, he put two men on my mother.
Williams wasn’t interested, said he could handle himself, although I think he’s wanted the opportunity to come face to face with my dad since we were boys.
And you, well, I just… I didn’t plan to let you out of my sight anyway and with Jackson here, I didn’t think anyone else was necessary. ’
‘That’s what you were talking about when I interrupted that morning.’ And that’s why you wanted to take me away.
‘Yes. Fuck, I could kick myself.’
I rise from the sofa and stand by his side, looking out at the bright city lights again. ‘What about the note?’
‘He went a step further when we were at Chapel Down. He must have walked straight into the building. I don’t know why or how… Part of me wonders if he wanted me to find out and stop him but…’
‘The note, Gregory, tell me!’ I snap.
‘He posted a note under the door of the apartment. It said, “Tell your girlfriend to stay strong”.’
My hand reflexively covers my mouth and I swallow bile.
‘Jackson picked it up. He was on his way to see Sandy; that’s how they ended up at the hospital together,’ he says, turning to look at me. ‘He tried to call me but I didn’t pick up his message until I was outside the hospital.’
Anger stirs within me. ‘You should have told me.’
‘I didn’t think it would?—’
‘No. You should have told me.’
‘I’m sorry, Scarlett. You’ll never know how sorry I am. I wish I could take it back. All of it. Even if it meant I had to live my life never having met you and never having felt— I wish I could go back to the boardroom and not be desp?—’
‘Shh,’ I say, placing one finger over his lips. ‘I’m not sorry that I met you.’
I don’t know at what stage my feelings changed; I don’t remember thinking it wasn’t his fault. But I believe it.
‘Gregory, don’t you think it’s time the police were involved?’
He regards me with troubled browns. ‘The police can’t be involved.’
‘Because you don’t think there’s any real evidence.’
‘No, Scarlett. Because when Jackson and I find him, we won’t be staying on the right side of the law.’
His statement should shock me. I’ve never been on the wrong side of the law. But the first thing I feel is vengeance. Pearson deserves to pay for what he did.
‘That’s enough for tonight,’ I whisper.
He nods and looks back out across the city.
I rest my hand into his. ‘Let’s go to bed.’
He considers me from beneath a furrowed brow.
‘It’s okay.’
I shuffle in the bed to nestle my head into his firm chest and he wraps a strong, warm arm around my shoulders.
I close my eyes and finally drift into a deep, settled sleep.