25 Leo Tie A String—Reuben Bullock & Reuben and the Dark
Leo
Tie A String—Reuben Bullock & Reuben and the Dark
For the tenth time, I attempt to pull my cotton-wool limbs off the sofa, only to be shoved back into place by Fletcher’s big hand. He glowers at me in clear warning. Stay. Like I have any choice after whatever that twisted psychopath injected left me weaker than a fucking baby.
“And you’re sure the assailant wasn’t known to you?”
“Yes.” Eden’s voice audibly trembles. “I’m sure.”
“Any information you can give us will be of help, Ms. Coles.”
The door to the kitchen is cracked, allowing us to eavesdrop on her interview with two policemen and some kind of family liaison officer. None of them are getting a speck of information out of her. She dodges every question, claiming the attacker was masked and unknown.
They don’t buy it.
And neither do we.
After repeating their offer of protection once more, chairs scrape and footsteps recede from the kitchen. The police officers request to return after interviewing Piper. For now, she’s at the hospital with Maverick and Elias in stable condition.
“What was that?” I whisper harshly.
Fletcher’s eyes narrow.
“You don’t find it suspicious?”
He shrugs, lips pursed.
I can’t tell if that’s agreement or a cautioning look. He’s too calm. Suspiciously so. But frankly, the pair of us are a damn sight calmer than Sterling. If the police weren’t here, I’d dread to think what he’d be doing to our kitchen and all its glass components right now.
Keeping his expression steeled, Sterling guides Eden into the room to deposit her on the sofa opposite mine. She refused a hospital trip. The paramedic checked her over, finding only minor injuries. Though a technicoloured bruise is already forming on her cheek, just left of her mouth.
“Painkillers?” Sterling takes great care to keep his voice level.
She nods. “Please.”
“Wait here. Leo? You need anything?”
“Whiskey, no ice,” I grunt.
“You’re on timeout until that shit’s out of your system. Be thankful I didn’t insist on them taking you into the emergency department too.”
“It wore off fast, Sterl. Stop getting all twisted up.”
“You were drugged!” he barks.
“No worse than a spiking. I feel fine.”
“No whiskey,” Eden agrees, staring at her bloodstained hands. “Too risky.”
When Fletcher nods in agreement with them, I know I’m fucked. Water it is. I jerk my head towards Eden, indicating for Fletcher to pay attention. He quickly catches on and ducks out to source some clean clothes. She’s still drenched in flaky dried blood and it’s screwing with me.
“Did you hear from Maverick?” she croaks.
“About an hour ago while you were being interviewed. Piper’s been stitched up and given the good stuff to handle the pain. She’s a tough cookie. Don’t worry about her.”
“She shouldn’t have tried to help. Now look what’s happened.”
“Nobody can tell that bulldozer what she can and can’t do. Not even Maverick. And frankly, who knows where we would be if she hadn’t intervened, so I’m grateful.”
“I guess.” Eden concedes with a loose nod.
“So. Are you going to give us the same crock of shit that you’ve just offered the police?” I deadpan without holding back.
She visibly flinches. “No.”
“Then I want the truth, Eden. All of it.”
“I know. I owe it to you.”
“Yes. You sure as hell do.”
“Are you really okay?” Tear-logged eyes train on me, searching for injury.
“The asshole didn’t hurt me, other than the drugging. He asked for help finding something, and I should’ve known better than to trust a stranger in the dark. Thought I was being neighbourly.”
“I’m sorry, Leo.”
“Are you?” My voice crackles like thunder.
Moisture breaks past her waterline to form thick, sparkling rivulets. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“That’s the problem, Eden. I don’t know. None of us do.”
“Because I wanted to keep you safe.” She hiccups. “Look what happened instead.”
We lapse into tense silence until the guys return. Sterling hands her two white pills and a glass of water, his lips clamped in a stern line at the sight of her hand shaking so violently, she slops some on herself. He steps in to steady the glass so she can take the pills.
“You good?” he murmurs.
She finishes the water in a few long gulps. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Then I’m calling a family meeting.”
“Okay.” Eden resigns herself with a nod.
When Fletcher returns, he orders Sterling to stand back with a hard look. Eden lets him help her to the bathroom, and the sound of running water fills the downstairs as she washes and changes into fresh clothing.
“What is happening?” Sterling shakes his head in dismay.
“We know Eden’s been hiding something since the day she arrived.” Rubbing my sore neck, I wince at the sting.
“You were sedated and some asshole beat her up! They attacked Piper! This isn’t just a secret, Leo. It’s far more than that.”
“I know, Sterl. Sit down.”
“I’m not sitting down while some fucking lunatic is out there roaming the streets! What if he comes back?”
“Then we need to know who this bastard is,” I say far more calmly than I feel. “And Eden’s gonna tell us.”
“You think she’s lying?”
“Through her teeth.”
Face paling, he moves to stand in front of the lit fireplace, bracing an arm on the hearth. We wait for Eden and Fletcher to return, attempting to rein in our tempers at the sight of her limping.
She’s black and blue down an entire side of her torso where the attacker body slammed her. Not to mention the dark, cloudlike bruising across her face from being struck. My fingers twitch with the urge to rain bloody murder in her name. No one touches our girl.
“I don’t know where to even begin,” she mutters, mostly to herself.
Taking a seat next to her, Fletcher rests a palm on her jolting thigh. I narrow in on the contact.
“Why does it feel like Fletcher knows what you’re about to say?”
“Because he does,” she confirms.
“What the fuck?” Sterling rages, glaring daggers at his best friend.
“When I found him in the woods, I revealed some stuff about myself to connect with him.” She pauses, forcing her wobbling lip to steady. “Fletcher knows who I am.”
Confusion and dismay roil in my gut, scorching hot with betrayal. No matter how rational or reasonable it was for her to do whatever necessary to bring Fletcher in from that woodland. The fact he’s in on whatever this big ugly secret is and we’re not cuts deeper than I care to admit.
“Who are you?” Sterling demands.
The hand on her thigh whitens, as if trying to anchor Eden in the present so she doesn’t disperse before our eyes.
“My name isn’t Eden Coles.”
“What?” I bleat in astonishment.
“I had to use a secret identity. I’m sorry.”
In the silence, you could hear a pin drop. Only the crackle of dying flames fills the staggering shock that holds us captive. When Sterling doesn’t react, I force my lips to move, shoving my own dismay into a corner.
“What is your name?”
She uses a still-shaking hand to scrub tears from her face. “It’s Everleigh.”
“What else don’t we know about you . . . Everleigh?” Sterling finds his voice, though it’s flat and broken.
God, that name sounds so fucking bizarre.
“I didn’t leave London for a fresh start,” she admits in a breathless whisper. “I left my home to escape my husband.”
“Your husband?” I repeat.
Her lips pucker and roll in palpable unease. “Yes.”
Anger metastasises as I watch her stroke the bare skin across her ring finger. I don’t give a shit if she’s married, separated, or divorced. But at least tell us. She better have a good reason for keeping this a secret.
“Wait, wait.” Sterling straightens from the hearth’s mantelpiece. “Is that who attacked you tonight?”
She nods, and the world flashes red. Motherfucker. We need to get those police officers back here. I won’t let her chicken out of handing over his identity this time.
“I’ve lied to you,” she whimpers. “For all this time.”
“Why?” My hands clench into fists.
“Because . . .” Her voice cracks agonisingly. “I’m terrified of him.”
The past several months flash in front of my eyes like a Hollywood B-roll. All the little clues, moments I chalked up to something she didn’t feel safe enough to share yet. The flinching. Anxiety. Panic attacks. Mentions of him. Not knowing who she is, how to be loved or even touched.
“Was he hurting you?” Sterling spits each word like it physically scars him to say aloud.
She shrugs like her suffering is irrelevant. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”
“Then tell us what to think.”
“He barely touched me. It was a sham marriage, arranged by my mother between our families. He’s a well-known socialite and took a wife to augment his status.”
“What did he do to you?” I interrogate.
“He was emotionally abusive for years, controlling my every move, keeping me under lock and key. He spent his life breaking me down until I no longer recognised myself in the mirror.”
“Fucking hell,” Sterling curses gutturally.
“But that isn’t what prompted me to run,” she clarifies.
Dread spirals and builds, infecting every cell. She looks petrified. Knowing that son of a bitch abused her, regardless of whether he used words or fists, makes me enraged. I’m not even the angry one in this room, but I’d still pay good money for five minutes with that scumbag.
“Then why did you leave?” I ask uneasily.
“Christopher . . . He had a secret life.” She trips over her words, tears pouring freely.
“Wait.” Frowning, Sterling seems to churn something over. “Christopher?”
She nods, biting back a hiccup.
“Christopher,” he repeats. “Fuck. Fuck!”
“What is it?” My stare flicks between them.
“Your surname,” Sterling demands, gaze fixed on her. “What is it?”
“B-Banks.”
“Son of a bitch!”
My head swims as I try to pull myself up. “What is it?”
“Some asshole shrink called Christopher Banks approached me at the clinic during Fletcher’s first therapy session,” Sterling reveals.
Shuddering all over, Eden—no, Everleigh—battles to catch her shortening breath. “What?”
“He claimed to be part of the team and wanted to ‘help’ me or some shit.” Sterling scrubs a paw over his face. “Kept fishing for information. Even asked to speak to you alone to support you.”