Chapter Twenty-Three
Fox
I think it was fair to say we had made an enemy for life in Diana Morgan.
Mrs. Baring had wrapped up the meeting with a shrill announcement that she had to leave. I think she needed to go and cry somewhere.
Diana and Haze had been death-staring each other to such a degree I didn’t know where to look.
Bibi seemed unfazed by us both arriving to take her home two hours early. We got her into the car park before unleashing.
“Bibi, please tell us what happened.” I wanted her to explain in her own words.
“Why did you hit that boy?” Haze wanted to get straight to it.
Bibi shrugged. “You said it was okay to hit if they were hurting someone.”
I breathed out. “Who was he hitting?”
“No one.”
Haze and I looked at each other.
I spluttered “Then why—?”
“He was looking at Savannah funny.”
I turned to Haze and hissed, “I told you four was too young to understand the intricacies of when it’s acceptable to hurt someone.”
“For all we know she has excellent instincts, and he was about to hit Savannah.”
Bibi started kicking a small stone around the car park, humming to herself.
“Or she wanted to hit him and came up with that as a cover for whacking him,” I said quietly.
Haze turned back to face Bibi. “You’re not old enough to know if someone is going to be bad before they’ve been bad, so how about you don’t hit someone unless you can prove to an adult there’s a good reason for it?”
“Okay.” Bibi carried on humming.
“Maybe the karate lessons were a mistake.” My motorbike was parked next to Haze’s car. I walked up to it.
“Maybe they’re what’s stopping her from hitting more!” Haze unlocked the car. “If she’s anything like her parents, she needs an outlet.”
I pulled on my helmet as Bibi got into the back of the car. She looked between my bike and me. “Cool dada!”
At least one of the women in my life was impressed by my new purchase.
—
Parenting on the same page was not easy. Trying to bring up your daughter so she was strong enough to protect herself, but not so strong she was picking fights, was not easy.
“In here!” shouted Jenny from the kitchen when we arrived back home. We’d driven in convoy. I could’ve raced ahead but it was all part of showing Haze that I could be responsible on my new toy.
Haze plonked Bibi in the sitting room in front of a documentary on regenerative farming. We needed to talk without her being around, but seeing as she was only home because she’d punched someone, we couldn’t let her watch television she might actually enjoy.
I picked up the envelope that had been waiting for us on the doormat.
Inside was a party invitation to the charity event at Balgray Hall.
“Haze and Fox” was written in neat print in the top-left corner.
The “only admits two” at the bottom was circled.
The dress code was “masquerade.” What a wonderfully glamorous way to make sure we couldn’t even see the enemy approaching us.
I chucked it on the kitchen table. “I get the feeling our attendance is nonnegotiable.”
Jenny was staring at the “only admits two.” “They’re making it clear you’re not to get any help.” She turned to Haze. “What else did he say in his messages?”
Haze took out her phone and placed it on the table. We scanned them together.
“This is good!” Jenny smiled. “You’re building a rapport with him and reminding him that he’s just The Corporation’s errand boy.”
“How is this good?” I shook my head. “He’s enjoying toying with you.” If Interpol’s intel that The Chameleon was doing one final job before retiring from the killing game was correct, everything seemed to be leading toward us being a part of his grand finish.
If we could find him before the party, we had a chance of ruining whatever surprise he had planned for us. The only way to beat the threat was to get ahead of it. Come for him when he least expected it.
Haze tapped her chin. “He’s not going to expect us having the party guest list.”
I frowned. “How did you get that?”
“Danny.” Haze looked down at the table. “I saw him this morning. I was going to tell you, but then all the Bibi punching drama kicked off.”
I went up to the coffee machine. “You spent the morning with your ex. Sounds fabulous. Great. So great.” I struck the coffee portafilter three times against the knock box. Perhaps a little harder than was necessary.
“Shall I…?” Jenny half rose.
Haze pushed her back into her chair and stood up. “Baby, if I was going to cheat on you, it wouldn’t be with a tried-and-tested ex I’d already rejected. I’d go for someone new and exciting. Like, maybe the tattooed barista in that coffee shop. Or the football coach down at the kids’ club, or the—”
“Okay, stop!” Jesus, was there anyone she hadn’t considered nailing? I was a little, okay a lot, off my game, and she was eyeing up other men as I wasn’t not enough for her anymore?
Haze came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course. It’s him I don’t trust. Did he try anything?”
I felt it. The slightest loosening of her touch. “He wouldn’t dare.” She let go as I spun around, wanting to look her in the eye. But she was walking back to the table.
“I got nothing helpful from Balgray Hall’s computer system so the guest list has been a huge help.
” Jenny looked at me. Ever the peacemaker.
“I’ve checked all of the names and it’s clear something is going down at that party.
A lot of recognizable names from the great and the good of Britain’s criminal underworld. ”
It did sound like The Chameleon’s type of crowd.
“One name sticks out,” said Jenny. “Joe Jones. There’s nothing on him online, and the company he’s supposedly from is bogus. It could be The Chameleon, or someone else going by a fake name.”
Despite the unappetizing thought of Haze spending time with her smirking ex, there was no denying it felt like we were making progress.
“Even if it’s an alias, it’ll help us find him, right? It’s a clue of sorts. If we could just find him, we could confront him when he least expects it.” Haze was rubbing her hands together.
She was celebrating. I was sweating.
We were getting closer to finally coming face-to-face with the man who’d engineered my kidnapping and torture. Where was my excited rage at getting to wreak my revenge?
I pressed the button on the coffee machine and let the grinding sound drown out my heartbeat. It was hammering so loud I was sure Haze and Jenny could hear it.
Fearful, not fearsome. Frightened, not frightening. I was a broken weapon.
I wished I could be honest with Haze about how much the events in Italy last year had changed me. I wished I could let myself be vulnerable with her.
I knew she loved me. But I also knew that she’d fallen in love with me when I was her equal.
A love match. A kill match. We were together, flying high.
The elite. If she started seeing me differently, if she started treating me differently, that would break me in a whole new way—and not one I thought I could ever come back from.