Chapter 43
S ince Helen returned, it has been nothing short of a mindfuck.
She’s here, and yet she’s not. I still have more questions than answers, and she’ still refusing to see Doc or let me take her to the hospital.
Hell, until last night, I’d barely even seen her.
I refuse to be another person who takes her choices out of her hands, as much as it hurts me to do nothing.
Hearing her cry out in her sleep, seeing her thrash around as if she was mid attack, only for her to ask me to lie to her, just about tore my heart out, but getting to hold her…
That is something I would happily carve out my heart to do.
Everything outside the penthouse is equally as fucked.
Ever since the last table meeting, Salvatore has been breathing down my neck daily for updates on the rat problem, threatening to call off the marriage between Matt and his granddaughter if we don’t get our shit ironed out.
But no amount of investigating or torturing has led us to any answers.
And that’s not to mention the mess in Scotland that Logan is trying to get to the bottom of.
With Angus and Peter both dead, so should be the sex trafficking ring they were running, and yet Brennan’s deep dive on the dark web indicates otherwise.
Which begs the question: what the fuck is going on?
So, coming home, only to catch the tail end of Helen’s confession and seeing her tear-stained face—it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
“What the hell happened?” I growl, crossing the room as quickly as possible, only to about die when Helen flinches at the bite in my tone.
Fucking stupid asshole , I curse myself out.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?” I ask gently as I crouch in front of the sofa, not touching her despite the urge crawling along my skin to do so.
She lifts her tear-stained face, looking at me in a way that has my heart shattering into a thousand pieces at her feet.
I don’t need her to tell me her story to know it’s an ugly one.
I tuck her hair behind her ear, letting my knuckles graze her cheek.
She leans into my touch, closing her eyes.
“I think that’s my cue,” Donna mutters, extracting herself from Helen, pressing a kiss to her cheek before she leaves with a weighted look tossed my way.
It’s my turn to look after our girl, and that’s something I’m happy to do.
Opening my palm, I cup her cheek, running my thumb over her cheekbone as I debate what to say, where to even start. Thankfully, she beats me to it.
“There are things I need to tell you…but I don’t know where to start.
Talking about it, reliving it like that, feels like it’ll make it real, like there’s no going back once I open that Pandora’s Box.
But I know you deserve answers, the truth,” she confesses, her eyes still closed.
Taking a fortifying breath, she continues, “My real name is Helen Campbell, and when I was eighteen, I ran away from the Clan. I was meant to marry Angus and provide him with an heir, but I couldn’t face it.
The rumours surrounding his previous wives’ deaths, the way he looked at my sister…
I couldn’t do it. So, I ran, and I buried that part of my life in hopes it would mean Freya was safe. ”
My heart breaks for this woman, whose selfless actions were in vain .
“I should have told you… There were so many times when I nearly did, but…” She finally opens her eyes, meeting my gaze.
“But you were scared about what would happen.”
“I know I should have trusted my gut, trusted you, but I couldn’t shake knowing what Angus would do if the shoe was on the other foot.
If someone from a rival faction so much as dared set foot on the compound, never mind someone meant to marry his enemy, it would be a blood bath.
” The pain in her confession lashes at my insides.
“Sweetheart, I don’t hold that against you.
How the hell could I? You did what you needed to.
You were trying to protect your sister from a monster.
At the end of the day, it’s a name, and it means nothing in the face of that.
I swear, it changes nothing,” I reassure her, stroking the silk of her skin and enjoying the privilege of being allowed to touch her.
“Sometimes, I wonder if I had just told you, would the same fate await me? It drives me mad, Johnathan, to know I might have escaped all the pain and hurt and heartbreak if only I hadn’t been such a coward.
But at the same time, I don’t think Angus would ever have given up until he got his hands on me,” she confesses, her voice breaking at the end.
“We thought Angus was behind the hit and run, but we couldn’t find any evidence,” I murmur.
“That doesn’t surprise me. What he was doing…
. It was an extremely sophisticated operation.
From the moment of the accident until I was…
sold, I was blindfolded and kept disoriented.
I couldn’t even tell you how long I was kept in that holding cell or where I was before I ended up in Northern Ireland.
Jonathan, he had to have people in government paid off to move us so seamlessly.
” The spark of fire burning in her eyes is the most life I’ve seen from her since she showed up, and it’s almost enough to distract me from the words she’s saying—what she’s confirming.
“I swear to you, we will get to the bottom of this sick and twisted web one way or another. Things are already in motion to get to the bottom of it, and sure, it might take us longer without whatever insight you have, but no one is going to force you to talk before you’re ready, okay?
I can promise you that,” I vow, watching as she lets out a shuddering breath, tears leaking down her face as she nods.
“I want to confess it all, but I just…can’t yet. I’m sorry.” I’d do anything to rid the broken tinge to her words, if only she’d let me.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I thought I lost you forever, and if the price to pay to have you back is a bit of patience, then sweetheart, call me a saint. I don’t care how long it takes you to feel safe—I’m going nowhere, and anyone who has an issue with that will have to go through me.
” With a watery laugh, she lets silence fall between us.
I’d happily sit like this forever, pain at being hunkered down and all, if it means being close to her.
Eventually, her stomach lets out a loud noise, and we both burst out in fits of laughter that deflates the heavy atmosphere, if only for a moment.
“Someone hungry, huh?” I ask her, rising with a wince and holding out a hand to help her up.
“Apparently.” She laughs, a blush coating her cheeks as she lets me help her up.
“Let’s see what we can do about that,” I say, making my way to the kitchen and spying the ingredients for chicken parm. Her favourite, the last I checked. Perfect.
“Why don’t you go get a shower while I get this ready, hmm?
And then tomorrow, I’ll take you to the clinic,” I tell her.
Her shaky inhale and quiet thanks are all the response I get, but it’s all I need.
The last thing I want is for her to think her need to get tested is an awkward thing, and I’ll be damned if I let her sneak off to do it alone.
The sooner she accepts that I’m here for the long haul, the better.
Hours later, with her safely tucked in bed, dark thoughts swirl as I sit in my darkened office, whiskey in hand. Sitting in here late at night seems to be the norm these days. I can’t remember the last time I went to bed at a reasonable time. Too much to do, too little time.
It’s after midnight when soft footsteps alert me to Helen’s presence moments before she knocks lightly on the open door. Another nightmare has clearly chased her down here, if the haunted look on her face is anything to go by.
“Can’t sleep?” she asks, curling up in the chair opposite my desk.
“Something like that. Nightmares haunting you?” I ask, quirking a brow at her in question.
“Something like that,” she sasses back, and that brief flash of the Helen I know and love so dearly has my chest tightening.
“Care to share with the class?” I ask, getting up to make her a drink. Handing her the wine, I lean back against the front of my desk, inhaling her sweet scent that clings to every corner of my flat these days.
“Thank you. It was just the same old shit, but it did prompt me to remember something I need to share with you. Towards the end, I started overhearing a lot of phone calls. From the bits and pieces I managed to overhear, it seemed like there was a rat from here, filling him in.” She frowns as she mulls over her words, and my stomach drops.
Fucking hell; this is the last thing we need.
“What makes you say that?”
“They would tell him things like you had been reunited with your daughter, or you were suspicious about something. They were the ones to tell Kyle Angus was killed, which was odd to me. It makes me wonder if Kyle wasn’t such a random player in this whole set up after all.
” She frowns, looking up at me with confusion painting her features.
This is the last thing we need to add to the already piled high shitshow, but her slip of the tongue has me latching onto that name. Kyle . Sounds like an absolute wanker who needs an introduction to how we dish out justice over here.