8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Rory
Fuck Ernesto and the horse he rode in on. I knew he was behind this kidnap attempt. I should have listened to my gut and kept our whereabouts secret, but I knew that would never be possible with a man like him.
I’d been stupid, thinking a move to London would keep her safe. How wrong I’d been.
Of course I had no proof that this was Ernesto’s doing, but who else would take the only thing that mattered to us both?
He’d told me in no uncertain terms she belonged with him.
He had reach, and he had money and an obsessive desire to see his granddaughter back under his roof. I never thought he’d stoop this low, but he was a man of his word.
It didn’t matter what I did or what I said; I’d never be a good enough father for her in his eyes. He didn’t trust me to care for her despite her being my daughter.
How could I sit here and do nothing? But I had no idea where she was or if the man on the motorbike had tracked her down.
If he did, I’d owe him my life. I’d give him whatever he wanted. Now Mia was gone, Carlotta was my world. I’d protect her with my life, but today, I’d failed her. They’d appeared from nowhere the moment we returned home.
Two men had held my arms, and as much as I’d struggled, I’d been unable to free myself. My world fell apart as another man pushed her into the back of the car. But then he’d appeared.
I paced the apartment, desperate for the call. My heart raced, my hands shook, and my stomach was doing somersaults. I felt sick not knowing what was happening, but what could I do?
I could call my sister, but I needed to keep the line free. So waiting was my only option.
But someone other than me was racing across London to save my daughter, and I felt as helpless as a newborn baby. My daughter was at the mercy of men unknown. How the fuck had this happened?
“Come on, come on. Call me, goddamn it.” I sat, I paced, I sat again, unable to settle, but the phone remained silent.
I was close to calling the police when a number I didn’t recognise appeared on the screen. I snatched it up. It’d been far too long, and I feared I’d never see her again.
“Where is she?” Fear shot through me. What if it wasn’t him? What if they’d got away?
“Calm down, Rory. I have your daughter, and she’s safe.”
Thank fuck for that. I stifled a sob and sat heavily on the sofa, relieved at his words.
The guy who had found her didn’t give me any more information, only that she’d been in an accident but was okay.
Five minutes later, a taxi was taking me to the Royal London Hospital.
“Can’t you drive any faster?” I asked. Dammit. At our snail-like pace, it was taking far too long.
“I can only do the speed limit, and in this traffic, I’m struggling to do that.”
It’d be quicker to fucking walk at this rate.
“Please. My daughter is in the hospital. She’s alone and needs me.” I sat forward in my seat as much as my seat belt would allow.
“Sit back, sir. I’ll do what I can, but you see what I’m up against.” He gestured at the red lights before us. I detested London traffic.
As much as I hated it, he was right, but it didn’t stop the agitation and panic I felt.
By the time we arrived, it’d been twenty minutes since he’d called. I threw a twenty at the cab driver and ran into the emergency department, skidding to a halt before the admissions desk.
“My daughter. I’m here for my daughter.”
“Name.” The lady behind the screen didn’t even look up. Her voice was devoid of all emotion.
“Carlotta Tushingham-Smythe. She was brought in after a car accident.” I glanced around me at the full emergency room. I didn’t see her anywhere. A man handcuffed to another, a woman lying down, several with bandages or in wheelchairs.
The thought that she was here all alone. Jesus Christ. What a mess.
“Ah, yes. She’s in the Urgent Treatment Centre. Go out of here, through that door, over there, up the stairs. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.” I raced out the door and followed her instructions, arriving at the centre just as Carlotta came out of a treatment room, her arm in a sling.
“Carlotta, sweetheart. Papa’s here.” Thank god she was all right.
I ran towards her but stopped before bringing her in for a hug. My poor girl looked in a lot of pain.
“It hurts, Papa.” It’d been a long time since I’d seen her cry like this. Even when she’d been ill, she’d held back her tears. The last time was when her mother had died.
She hadn’t stopped mourning her mother, and there were many a night I’d lie awake and listen to her. But today, the tears flowed.
“Let’s sit down. You’ve had a tough day.” I led her to a chair and sat her down, ensuring her arm was supported.
“I went with her for her x-ray. They said something about resetting her hand. The doctor will be out shortly to talk to you. I’m not family, so….”
The voice that spoke matched the one I’d heard on the phone and that of the man who had ridden off to save my daughter.
“What the hell happened? How did she end up here? We should call the police right now!” I fumed and stood up to face him.
“It was a car accident. I can tell you more about it another time, but for now, I think your daughter is your primary concern. I know you want to call the police, but there are other things at play here. Please wait a day.”
I didn’t like that idea, but he knew something. There was no point in losing my temper with him. It wasn’t his fault. It was Ernesto and the men he sent to take her.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I said, feeling weary. “I’m a little overwrought right now. Thank you for saving my daughter. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been there. How can I ever repay you?”
“No thanks are necessary. I would have done the same for anyone.” He shrugged as if it were something he did every day.
“Why were you at our apartment in the first place? Why have you been hanging around?”
“Again, that’s a conversation for another time.” I didn’t know what was going on, but I was determined to find out.
He was right, though. This was not the time and place. I sank back into the chair. All the anger drained away. Worry still lingered, but Carlotta was here and reasonably safe, save for the sling she wore and the obvious broken arm. Wrists weren’t meant to bend like that, and I looked away.
Mia had always dealt with bumps and scrapes. I’d been far too squeamish.
“I’m sorry. What’s your name? You saved my daughter, and I don’t even know.”
“Zeke. My name is Zeke.” It suited him, with his bad boy vibes and leather.
His voice washed over me and warmed me from the inside. I found it hard to tear my eyes away from him, and the same pull I’d felt last night surfaced.
“Do I know you?” I tried to figure out where I’d seen him before.
“No, I guarantee you don’t.” He was right. I’d never be able to forget his face or his voice. But something inside me recognised him.
“I feel like I do. You seem familiar somehow, like we’ve met before. Are you sure?”
Was it my imagination, or did his eyes change colour? From a burnt orange to yellow in the blink of an eye.
“Zeke saved me, Papa.”
“Yes. Yes, he did.” Why did I feel so confused? And why did I long to touch his face? I peered closer at the man sitting next to me. How would his skin feel?
“I should go. Leave the police to me.” He stood, and immediately I wanted him to stay.
“No! I mean, of course. Leave me your number so I can…” So I could what? “Let you know how Carlotta’s getting on. I should pay you.”
I fumbled for my wallet. Shit, I’d given my last note to the taxi driver. Who carried cash these days anyway?
“There’s no need, and you have my number.” The deep rumble of his voice shot to a place it really shouldn’t in a hospital full of people. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Then dinner. Please. It’s the least I can do.”
“Maybe another day. I really should go. I think you’ll be here a while yet.”
He wasn’t wrong. Since I’d arrived, the room had filled with more patients. This wouldn’t be a quick trip.
Before I could say more, he’d gone, leaving me feeling empty and bereft.
“Papa, how much longer do we have to stay here?” Carlotta’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
I sat next to her and squeezed her hand. “Until they say we can leave, sweetheart. But I think it might be a while. We have no idea what’s going to happen next. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“No, they just drove really fast, and then the accident happened. Why did they take me? I’m scared, Papa.”
“I know you are, but I’ll find out what happened. No one will hurt you again. I promise you that. Let’s get this over and done with, and we’ll concentrate on the rest tomorrow. I’m here now.”
I had been there earlier and hadn’t been able to stop the men from taking her. I didn’t think they’d try again, though. Certainly not today.
Several doctors later, a bone reset, a cast, and a sling, we were released. It had proved to be far longer than we’d hoped. By now, she was exhausted.
Two hours later, we were back at the apartment with a bag full of pain medication.
An operation would be scheduled to repair the damage, and we were to wait for a call the following morning.
I’d signed the consent form, and I’d held her close when they talked about all the risks involved with such an operation. But she was young, and the prognosis was good. She’d regain full use of her hand and wrist.
When we returned home, I got her comfortable in bed, made some soup, and left her to scroll through reels on her phone.
She’d be off school for a while, and I’d need to sort out care while she was home, take some holiday time or work from home. I’d need to call the office tomorrow.
It was late by the time I sat on the sofa with a glass of wine. I’d taken a long, hot shower to wash away the smell of the hospital.
After today’s events, I was tempted to finish the bottle, but I consoled myself with just the one glass.
Who knew what would happen during the night?
At ten p.m., I tiptoed to Carlotta’s room and stood at the door, watching her sleep.
She was sleeping soundly, her arm resting on her chest, a small frown on her face.
Hopefully, she wasn’t in too much pain, but her recovery would be a long road.
First, we had the surgery to get through.
She was nervous about it, as was I, but without it, the outcome wasn’t good.
I didn’t even want to think about the repercussions surrounding her abduction. Something else to add to the long list of things to worry about.
It’d been a long fucking day, but as she slept, my thoughts went to the dark-haired, yellow-eyed man who had followed her without a thought for his own safety.
Who did that? Who was willing to potentially put his life at risk to save someone he didn’t know?
I vowed to find out.
My finger hovered over the call button on my phone. Dare I call him?
Too fucking right, I would.
Despite the lateness of the hour, he answered on the second ring.
“How is she?” That voice did things to me that no voice had ever done—a deep vibration in my chest.
“She’s doing good. Asleep for now and she’ll need to have an operation.”
“That’s good to hear, but I’m sorry about the operation.”
“She needs it for the wrist to heal. Do you know who was behind her kidnapping? It was a kidnap attempt.” Although I knew in my heart it was her grandfather, I wanted to know Zeke’s thoughts. Did he have any idea?
There was so much more to him than met the eye.
“I have an idea, but I need to do some digging first.” Was he working for Ernesto?
“How do you know all this? Why have you been hanging around? Give me a good reason I shouldn’t have called the police.”
My questions were answered with silence.
“Look, I know you have something to do with this. Is it Ernesto? It’s him, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think now is the right time to talk about this. You’re tired. Your daughter has been in an accident and was taken against her will. I’m willing to meet with you and tell you what’s been going on. You should get some sleep. It’s late.”
“Please. I have to know. The police need to be informed. I can’t let this happen again.”
“I’ll come around tomorrow and tell you what I know. I promise. Hold off on the police for now.”
Despite not knowing him, I trusted him for some strange reason. Something about him put me at ease. Fuck, I’d let him ride off on his bike to save my daughter. Who does that without knowing someone?
Yet he had a presence about him made me feel secure. Even talking to him now, I felt calmer than I had all day.
“Papa!”
“I have to go. Carlotta needs me.”
“Yes, she does. I’ll be by tomorrow. Sleep, Rory. You’re going to need all your strength in the coming weeks.”
Carlotta sat up in bed, her face pale, and not for the first time today I wished it had been me they’d taken. I wished it were me with the broken arm and not my sweet, sweet girl.
“It’ll all be okay.” I topped her up with pain medication. “It’s upwards from here on in.”
I just wished I believed my own words.