Chapter 85
Holly watched the man, whom she now had to learn to call Logan Quick, walk across the room and lower himself into an armchair. He looked different. Not, like Thomas, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened; more like the rest of them, scared and exhausted after a terrifying night.
He frowned, as though with sudden pain, and said, ‘I expect you have some questions.’
Too fucking right she had questions. Charlie, though, beat her to it.
‘What are you going to do to us now?’
Hearing the fear in her son’s voice, knowing he was trying hard to hide it, Holly began looking around the room again, this time for possible weapons. Quick was going to die if he threatened her son again. The bastard, meanwhile, was smiling at Charlie.
‘To you?’ he said. ‘Nothing. Why don’t you go and see if Lauren will make you some hot chocolate? While I talk to your mum and the others.’
Holly glanced round to see that both the housekeeper and Thomas had quietly left the room.
‘He’s staying with me.’ Holly put a hand on her son’s shoulder, as Tug stepped in front of them both.
‘This is nothing to do with Holly or the kid,’ he said to Quick. ‘Let me phone for a motor taxi to get them back to St Mary’s.’
Holly felt as though her brain, normally so agile, was working in slow motion. Tug was in on this after all? She tried to catch his eye, but he wasn’t looking away from Quick. Did the others know too? Could she trust any of them?
Quick said, ‘Please sit down. You must all be tired, after a night like that.’
For a second no one moved, then Cheryl flopped onto one of the sofas as though her legs wouldn’t hold her up anymore. Her plump face trembled and turned pink; she was trying hard not to cry. Robin walked round the back of the sofa and patted her shoulder.
Holly lost it.
‘What the hell did you do?’ It was bloody satisfying to see Quick flinch.
‘You sent me below to look at some frigging instruments and when I got back on deck you’d gone.
You could have killed all of us and I don’t care how rich you are, you sick, twisted shit, you’re going away for this. For a very long time.’
‘No, he isn’t.’ Sabri stepped to Holly’s other side, letting her hand settle gently on Holly’s waist. Then she beckoned Tara forward too. ‘He’s dying. Come and look at him. He’s got nothing to lose.’
As Tara joined them, Holly let herself look properly at Logan Quick. There was a dull sheen to his skin that she hadn’t noticed before and he was breathing heavily. Also, without the smart jackets Craig had always worn, he looked very thin.
‘Pancreatic cancer,’ Tug said. ‘So that bit was true? You’ve got less than a year to live?’
‘Not even that.’ Tara kept her voice low, as though she was back on a hospital ward; she almost sounded sympathetic. ‘I’ve worked in oncology. And done end-of-life care. You’ve got weeks, haven’t you, Mr Quick?’
Good. Holly was glad the bastard was dying. It would save her the trouble.
‘I don’t care how long you’ve got,’ she spat at him. ‘I’d kill you now myself for taking my son and not lose a second’s sleep. And what the hell were you thinking last night? You could have killed us all.’
‘Oh, you were supposed to die, Holly,’ Quick said.
Robin was still behind Cheryl. ‘That was the plan all along,’ he said. ‘He lured us out here on a rescue mission and left us on a crippled boat in the middle of a storm. I guess he underestimated Tug.’
Someone else who knew more than she did. Holly looked from one face to the other, from Tug to Tara, Robin to Sabri, to Cheryl. No surprise anywhere. Not a single questioning expression, except on Charlie’s face. They all knew, and she was suddenly more frightened than she’d been the past two days.
‘Why?’ She drew Charlie even closer. The fact that he didn’t object, that he was scared too, almost broke her. ‘What have we ever done to this man? We’d never met him before last week.’
Silence. The only person in the room who would meet her eyes was the monster she’d have to stop thinking of as Craig. He gave her a tight smile.
‘Actually,’ he said, ‘the others and I have met before.’