Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
GRACE
The second the door closes, I dash over and turn the lock. Not that I expect Christian to return, but I’m not taking any chances.
The tightness across my chest stops me from taking a full breath.
I know what the problem is: guilt. Raw, visceral, dreadful.
I don’t want to do this anymore. Christian may have made mistakes that led to Nexus’s collapse, but I cannot believe a man who shows me nothing but kindness, nothing but goodness, purposely set out to murder my parents.
I’ve known him now for more than three months, and not once in that time have I seen him behave poorly.
When people show you who they are, believe them.
Well, Christian is showing me he’s a good guy, and I believe that he is.
Once I tell him who I really am and what I’ve done, he’ll hate me, but I hope that he will also tell me what happened to Mum and Dad.
I’ll have to throw myself at his mercy and pray he does the right thing and puts me and my family out of our misery.
I dig out the burner from my box of tampons and switch it on. While it boots up, I change my tampon and wash my hands.
Then I blow our original plan to smithereens.
Me: I’m done, Arron. It’s over. I’m telling Christian everything.
He must’ve fallen over himself to reply because it arrives in three seconds flat.
Arron: Wait. Stop. What’s happening? Tell me everything.
Me: Nothing’s happening. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t think Christian murdered anyone.
Arron: But the email? The cover up. The shitty report by HSE. Three days ago you were certain of his guilt. What’s changed?
Me: I’ve changed. Other than that email, which could mean anything, I haven’t found a single shred of evidence to back up our theory.
Arron: Goddammit, Grace. You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?
Yes.
When I don’t answer immediately, he sends another.
Arron: HAVEN’T YOU?
Me: It doesn’t matter. I have to go. He’ll wonder where I am.
Arron: Grace, wait. Don’t do anything rn. Sleep on it. Message me in the morning.
I already know a few hours won’t make any difference, but it’s the least I owe him.
Me: Okay.
I turn off the phone and put it back in its hiding place. When I walk into the bedroom, Christian’s sitting up in bed. The concerned smile he gives me makes me want to bawl my eyes out. Not through stomach pain caused by my period, but from the pain ripping my heart to shreds.
“Feeling a bit better?” He pats the mattress, where he’s already turned down the covers.
I round the bed and climb in beside him, the tears that threaten to fall prickling the backs of my eyes.
If I do cry, he’ll think it’s my period, but I’m worried if I start, I won’t be able to stop and the promise I made Arron will scatter like ashes.
“A little.” I pull the covers up to my chin.
Christian scooches down the bed. “Will it hurt if I hold you?”
That does it. I can’t hold the tears back for another second. They pour down my cheeks in rivers. Christian’s eyes widen in horror.
“God, Grace, come here.” His arms encircle me, and he gently strokes my hair as I plunk my head on his chest. “What can I do?”
My breath hitches on a sob. “Nothing. It’s not that bad now, really.
” Not the period, anyway. As for the rest of it…
the premonition of what lay ahead of me has my anxiety spiraling out of control.
With hindsight, this was a terrible plan, but in the midst of crushing grief and the violent thirst for revenge, it seemed like the only course of action available to me.
Christian continues stroking my hair, and with every tender touch, more tears fall, soaking his chest.
“Do you want me to call for the doctor?”
“God, no. I’ve dealt with this for ten years. I’ll be much better in the morning, promise.”
“Jesus.” He kisses the top of my head. “Women really are warriors.”
“Only another thirty or so years to go.” I laugh, because it’s true, and right now, laughter seems all I have left to stop my anxiety from escalating.
“Does it last long? The pain, I mean.”
“No. Some months it’s fine. This is a particularly bad one. I promise, by the time you wake up, I’ll be back to normal.”
His arms tighten around me, and I snuggle closer to him.
This will be the last time he ever holds me, and I’m not going to waste a single second.
Tomorrow, when I tell him who I really am and demand to know what the original HSE report said about Nexus’s collapse, he will look at me with hatred in his eyes and bitterness in his heart.
I can’t bear to think about it, yet there is no way to avoid what’s coming.
The best outcome is if he tells me it was his fault, that he did kill my parents, or at least his actions led to their deaths. At least then I’ll feel vindicated in what I’ve done, and maybe the hate I felt for him at the beginning will come flooding back.
I’m not even sure if feelings work like that, but I live in hope.
At some point, I must drift off to sleep.
When I wake, it’s barely light. I squint at the clock on my side of the bed.
Seven-fifteen. The cramping in my stomach is much less, more a dull ache, and nothing I can’t handle.
The ache in my heart caused by what I have to do today is worse. Much, much worse.
I roll over in bed. Christian’s still asleep, his thick, dark eyelashes flickering as he dreams. I hope it’s a good dream because, for both of us, today will be the stuff of nightmares.
Before I tell him, I need to message Arron and let him know my decision. This affects him, too, but Christian’s ire won’t be for my brother. He’ll save it all for me, and why wouldn’t he? If the roles were reversed, I wouldn’t blame any of his family. I’d put the blame squarely on his shoulders.
My insides are waging a war. On the one hand, I want him to admit his guilt, to tell me he was the one who stole my parents from me.
On the other hand, I pray he had nothing to do with it, that he was entirely innocent.
In many ways, that will make the guilt I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life easier to bear.
Somewhere along the way, I’ve fallen in love with the man I’m supposed to hate. Supposed to destroy. And destroy him I will, adding myself into the bargain.
“Hey.” Christian rubs his eyes, then stretches. The covers slip down his body. I run my gaze over him, my stomach cramping for a different reason. “Feeling better?”
“Much.”
“Good. C’mere.” He slides his arms around me and anchors me to his side. “I had a dream last night that you left me. It was fucking awful.”
My stomach’s in knots. Is there such a thing as premonitions that masquerade as dreams?
Though it’s not that I’ll leave him, more that he will throw me out.
Will he do it himself, or have one of his bodyguards do it?
Or perhaps he won’t throw me out at all.
Maybe he’ll keep me here so he can punish me day after day.
The truth is I haven’t a clue how he’ll react, and that’s the scariest part of all.
“I’m here.” For now. I can’t bring myself to say, “That’ll never happen”. I’ve told enough lies.
“I thought I might ta—” A loud hammering sounds at the outer door to the apartment. Christian frowns. “Hang on.”
He tosses back the covers and strides into the living room. I scramble to tug on my dressing gown to follow him. As I proceed into the living room, I catch the tail end of a conversation he’s having with his dad.
“—leave in five minutes.”
“What’s going on?”
Christian turns to look at me, then beckons me closer. “Remember the photograph you found in my office? The one I tore up?”
“Yes. The one of your uncle.”
“That’s the one,” Charles says, eyebrows lowering over his eyes. “I’m sorry to drag Christian away when he only returned home last night, but it’s important.”
“He’s been spotted,” Christian explains.
“Where?”
“Nelasos.”
I frown. “Where’s that?”
“A small island about thirty miles from mainland Greece,” Charles says. “We have to get there fast before he moves on again. This is the first solid sighting we’ve had since he disappeared. Downstairs in five, Christian.”
With another apologetic tilt of his lips, he whirls around and strides down the hallway toward the staircase.
“Shit.” Darting past me, Christian disappears into the bedroom.
I hurry after him. “What can I do?”
He nudges open the door to the bathroom and grabs his toothbrush, squirting toothpaste on it. “Can you pack me an overnight bag? Enough for a couple of days.”
“On it.” I hurry into the walk-in wardrobe and reach for a holdall. I yank two pairs of trousers and two shirts off their hangers and fold them as best I can. “Do you want shoes?”
“No. I’ll wear what I travel in.”
“Okay.” I lay two pairs of boxer shorts on top of the clothes.
Christian appears with his bag of toiletries. I take it from him and tuck it down the side.
“Passport?” I ask.
He points to a stack of drawers. “Top one.”
I retrieve his passport while he gets dressed. Four minutes after Charles appeared and unwittingly ruined my plans, Christian kisses me. I cling to him, absorbing his heat, his strength, the feel of his lips for what will be the last time.
“I’ll call you once I know what’s happening.”
He picks up his bag and, with a last look over his shoulder, leaves.
I cross over to the window, waiting for him to appear. He does, flanked by his father and Alexander. He looks up at the window, raises his hand, then climbs into the car. Once it’s driven away, I dart into the bathroom and text Arron.
Me: He got called away before I could tell him, but nothing’s changed. I’m doing it when he gets back.
I sit on the toilet as I wait for a reply. It takes him a full five minutes, and something tells me the reason for that is because he saw my message and called Uncle Daniel.
Arron: Okay. Do what you have to do.
Me: Have you told UD?
Arron: Yes.
I knew it.
Me: And what did he say?
Arron: You don’t want to know.