Текст книги "His Temporary Fix"

Автор книги: Sofia Grey

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 8 страниц)

Chapter Sixteen

Zack frowned when he terminated the call, and then stared at my brother as though something had just occurred to him. “You said you’d spent months persuading her to leave. Why was that?”

Jasper sat back and tugged at his hair, a wary look on his face. “Man, I don’t know how to tell you.”

“Were you involved? With Marnie? Are you the reason she left him?” Zack’s knuckles showed white on his fists.

“No. Not at all. She was a solid friend to me when I broke up with Cindy.” Jas hesitated. “I don’t know for sure, she never said.” He spoke slowly, as though picking his words with care. Zack’s shoulders were rigid, and he sat silent and unmoving. What was this new horror Jas was about to release? “She had bruises, on her arms. A black eye once.”

Zack’s words rang in my head. My stepfather thought it was fun to push me around, and I swore I’d never behave like that, that I’d stop people like him.

Icy fingers walked down my spine, and I realized I was trembling. I wanted this to stop. Wanted Jas to stop before he made this whole situation a million times worse, but I couldn’t speak. I’m not sure if I even breathed.

Jas carried on, his voice low and unhappy. “She said she’d bumped into the cupboard, banged her head on the car door, but one day she pushed up her sleeve and you could see the finger marks. And I told her to leave. I’d help her. She could even move into the spare room here if she wanted it. She kept saying no, but she finally said yes.” He scrubbed at his face. “God. I wish I’d done it sooner.”

His words hung in the air.

Zack turned to look at me, his face a cold mask. The beautiful, affectionate man from earlier had vanished. This Zack I could imagine on the battlefield, and I shivered at the idea. “Holly, I need to use your car.” His jaw was so stiff, I’m surprised he could speak.

My brain jumped from one fear to another. He was going after Barry? He thought Barry had hurt Marnie? What would he do? He was trained to kill, after all.

“I want to go with you.” I forced the words out. If I went, too, I might be able to keep him calm.

Zack shook his head and held out his hand. “Keys.” I hesitated, and he sighed. “Let me have your keys, Holly, otherwise I’ll have to go and steal a car. And I will do that.” Tears pressed at the backs of my eyes. What could I do to stall him? I couldn’t just let him drive away.

Jas dug his fingers into my arm. “Hol. This is not a good idea.”

It wasn’t. But could I let Zack go alone? If I went with him, he might be more careful.

I fumbled in my shoulder bag and dragged out my small key ring. Zack reached for it, but I held firm. “I come with you.”

Jas let out a frustrated breath, as though he was going to speak, but I carried on. “I don’t want you to do this alone.”

Moments later, with Zack behind the wheel, we accelerated up the quiet road. “Where are we going?” I twisted my hands together, unable to keep still.

“Marnie’s house.” He sucked in a rapid breath. “Her old place.”

“And if he’s not there?”

“I call in a few favors.”

Part of me wanted the police to stop us for speeding. Whatever Zack did, he couldn’t make this any better. I tried to untangle my knotted emotions as the trees and houses flew by. I couldn’t turn my back on him now. I had to see this through, even if my heart was shattered into a thousand pieces in the process. Was it really just an hour ago that he’d licked me into nirvana at the top of the hill? We’d been buying condoms and planning an afternoon of hot sex, and now we were on a witch-hunt. Seeking retribution. Out for blood.

“Your brother. I should have thanked him.” Dark eyes glanced at me for a moment. “I wouldn’t have known otherwise.”

What could I say? I just stared, another piece of my heart cracking.

The car pulled into a quiet tree-lined street of small clapboard houses, and Zack killed the engine, his hands dropping to his lap. His face was white and pinched, a muscle flicking in his stubbled cheek. He blew out a short breath. “Let’s go.”

I followed him out of the car and grabbed at his hand, tugging him to a stop.

Be careful. Don’t do this. Don’t wreck your career. He’s not worth it.

I didn’t know which platitude to spit out, so I just squeezed his hand and tangled our fingers together. He nodded, and we turned together and walked up a short gravel path to a bright yellow front door. The paint looked fresh and cheerful. Well cared for.

Zack banged on the door with his fist. Once, twice, and paused, then a third time. I peered at the windows, but the blinds were down. There was no answer. “Round the back,” he muttered, and led me down a narrow path. The side garden was as tidy as the front, with neat lavender bushes and a rambling rose that scrambled over a wooden trellis. We rounded the back of the house, past more windows with the blinds drawn, to another yellow door at the end of a raised wooden deck.

Beside me, Zack paused, his fingers tightening to the point of pain. He swallowed hard, his breathing suddenly ragged. “There,” he whispered, nodding to a small door set into the side of the house. “That’s the cellar.” Where she died.

I didn’t know if I felt hot or cold, and my stomach felt all quivery inside. How must he be feeling now? I twisted to wrap my arms around him, standing between him and the door.

“I have to go in there.” He buried his face in my hair, his agonized whisper hot against my ear. “I have to see it for myself.”

Chapter Seventeen

Zack grasped the door handle, flicked up the old-fashioned latch, and pulled. It opened easily onto a dark space, and I squinted, trying to see more clearly. He fastened the door against the wall and then fumbled around on the inside. Seconds later, light flooded the cellar. He took my hand again. His palm was damp, or maybe that was just mine.

Six or seven broad wooden steps led down, with a sturdy handrail attached to the wall. It looked safe and clean, and as well tended as the rest of the property. Zack made a strange noise in his throat and lifted his eyes to the blue sky above. “I’ve walked into live firefights, had bullets whizzing over my head, and survived a fucking ambush, but I’ve never been freaked out like this before. What kind of a fucking coward am I, Holly?”

“You’re no coward.” The cellar held no anguished memories for me. I slipped my hand free and, clutching the handrail tight, walked down the stairs to a flagstone floor. It was the size of a small garage, dry and tidy, with a stack of dusty logs against one wall and a pungent smell of ammonia. Cat piss. A small high window, the glass thick with dust, lay open on the opposite wall.

The hand on my shoulder made me leap almost out of my skin. I hadn’t heard Zack creep up behind me. “Holy mother of God, you startled me.” I pressed a hand against my racing heart as I spoke. “I’m going to put a bell on you if you do that again.”

“Nobody’s mentioned her cat. She wouldn’t have left Tabitha behind.”

“Would your mother have taken her?” As soon as I’d said it, I guessed it was unlikely.

Zack gave a short, wry laugh. “You’re joking, aye. Nurturing has never been her strong point.” I thought of my own mum with a pang. She gave the most amazing hugs that could cure everything from a scraped knee to a case of the blues. All these years later I still missed my parents. Poor Zack had never known that kind of love.

He stood very still, and I looked up to see him blinking hard. “Let’s check out the house. I want to find that bastard.”

The sunlight outside was a welcome contrast to the cellar, and Zack strode to the back door, banging on it with his fist. No answer, and I could hear nothing from inside the house. On an impulse, I tried the handle and the door swung open. Zack went ahead of me and stopped dead.

There was a different smell in the kitchen. A shallow bowl of fruit sat on the counter, blackened bananas oozing through split skins. The remnants of an abandoned breakfast spoke of someone leaving in a hurry, as did the open bottle of milk on the table. The sour stink turned my already churning stomach. Zack stared at the half eaten bowl of cereal and voiced my thoughts. “Nobody’s been here for days.”

I trailed behind him as he looked through the rest of the house, but there was no sign of Marnie’s boyfriend, or anyone. “Did he have a car here?”

Zack paused and thought. “Dunno. There was a silver truck last time I came.” He shrugged. The only vehicle there at the moment was my Honda.

“So what happens now?”

“I call in some favors.”

…

Neither of us wanted to stay in the house, so we sat on a low wall outside, pleasantly cool in dappled shade. While Zack sent texts and made calls, I rang Jas and updated him. Zack eventually put down his phone and scooted up next to me. “We may as well wait here. It won’t take long before my mates get back to me.” He draped his arm across my shoulders, and I snuggled in to his side. It felt strangely peaceful here after the horrors of the morning. Birds cheeped and sang. Small children’s voices drifted from a nearby garden.

“Talk to me, Holly.” His voice was hollow, as though he clung to his composure by the narrowest of threads.

“What do you want to know?”

His fingers beat a restless tattoo on my upper arm. I waited. “Your husband. Start there.”

Jesus. He made it sound easy. It was anything but. “I met Davey at school. His family had just moved to the area, and he didn’t know anyone. He was, uh, being picked on and I stepped in to help.” He followed me around like a lost puppy after that. “We became best friends, and I guess I fell in love with him.”

“You beat off the bullies, huh? Well done, you. How long were you together?”

“As in married? Not long. Only two years.”

The insistent rhythm on my arm slowed a little. “What happened?”

“I guess I didn’t love him as much as I thought.” His neediness suffocated me. Every time I tried to break up he begged me to stay.

“What did you do after that?”

“I went traveling around Europe for a year and then got a job in London. I was born in England, just before my parents emigrated to New Zealand, so I hold a European passport.” I tried to reinvent myself. Didn’t do a very good job of it.

“How long were you there?”

“Right up until two weeks ago. I only came back when Jas had his accident.”

“Oh, right. What do you do at work?”

“I’m part of the marketing team for a major advertising company.”

“You going back?”

“Of course, I’m just not sure when. As soon as Jas can manage without me.”

I was just about to get promoted into a management position and represent the team at a New York conference. If I could get back within the month, I might be able to salvage the promotion, but the New York trip would be long gone.

Zack went quiet, and I mused some more on the bad choices I’d made. Marrying Davey because I couldn’t bear to break his heart by refusing his very public proposal. Falling in love with Paolo as we backpacked across Italy. He’d had his wallet and passport stolen, and had been pathetically grateful to me for helping. Once he made it home, I was forgotten. Next one to shred my heart had been Luthor. He’d played the stereotypical role of starving artist to perfection. He even had a tiny top-floor apartment in Paris. Someone had beaten and robbed him, and I’d taken him to the hospital, and then back to his place. That affair lasted until his next sale and the emaciated beauty who modeled for him.

Arriving in London, I dropped my old personality like a pair of dirty shoes. I dated suave, confident men. I only slept with Fabian, and that was just a handful of times. I couldn’t handle casual sex.

And now here I was, wrapping up my heart, ready to hand it over to a man I felt sorry for, in the full knowledge that he was only using me as a distraction. I hadn’t changed at all.

Chapter Eighteen

Zack’s voice sharpened when he took the next call. He paced up and down, phone pressed to his ear, speaking in clipped phrases, before returning to me.

“Barry’s not been at work this week, so there’s no point going there, but apparently he hangs out at The Pines.” I must have looked blank. “The pub in the next village.”

I glanced at my watch. “It’s early afternoon. Do you think he’ll be there?”

Zack shrugged. “It’s the best lead I’ve got.”

We drove in silence, anxiety gnawing a hole in my chest with every kilometer we traveled. The journey took less than fifteen minutes but felt like hours. In my head I’d run through every scenario I could imagine, but each one ended up the same. Zack beating Barry to a bloody pulp. Zack being arrested.

The pub car park was quiet, and we went silently, hand in hand, into the shabby building. I’d never been there before. From the outside, it looked like a quiet bar on the end of a row of shops. I swallowed, trying to ease my dry throat. Ever since we’d walked into Marnie’s house, a heavy weight had taken residence in my chest, and I didn’t know how much more of this I could take.

We stopped, just inside the doorway. Half a dozen elderly men were clustered around a wide-screen TV, watching a cricket match. The low buzz of conversation was relaxed, and the plump middle-aged woman wiping the bar top looked bored. I let out my breath, my heart pounding. He wasn’t here.

Zack strode to the bar, his movements rough and jerky. “I’m looking for Barry Lafferty. I heard he drinks here.”

The barmaid’s gaze swept up and down him, and her lips thinned into a scowl. “Not anymore, he doesn’t. He’s barred.” She nodded toward a broken window, patched with brown parcel tape. “He needs to pay for damages, too. Is he a friend of yours?”

“He owes me something.” Zack’s voice was cold, and I inched closer to him. “Any idea where he might be?”

“None at all.” She slapped the damp cloth onto the counter. “If you find him, let me know.”

“What happened?” I broke into the conversation.

Her gaze swiveled to me. “He was in here two nights ago, completely off his head, and I refused to serve him. He picked a fight with my husband when we asked him to leave, and next thing he’s smashing the place up. The window, the mirror we had behind the bar, and a row of glassware. He owes me close to four hundred bucks. I threatened to call the police, and that’s when he left.”

“On foot?” Zack snapped, “or did he go with someone?”

“In his truck. I can only hope the police caught him for driving under the influence.”

There was nothing else to learn, and we went back to my car. Zack gripped the wheel with both hands and stared outside, his eyes unfocused.

“What the fuck did she ever see in him?” He finally looked at me, pain flooding his eyes.

“How about family? Does he have parents around here?”

He shook his head. “Maybe a remote cousin, but no parents or siblings.” He blew out a short breath. “His friends are next. I’ve got a list, and we’ll check them, one by one.”

I tried to crack a smile, but it was difficult. “How have you got all this information? You must have some formidable contacts.”

Zack shrugged. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head to the wheel. “Jesus. That wasn’t even slightly funny.” He peeked up at me. “Sorry, Hol. Very bad taste.”

“I could ask Sam if you like, he knows pretty much everyone in the area.” At Zack’s raised eyebrow, I continued. “He’s the landlord for your rental. Don’t ask me how, but he knows all the local gossip. I figure he has friends on the police force.”

“Sure. What have we got to lose?”

…

We spent the next three hours driving to each address on Zack’s list. The day was drifting away, the afternoon spent, and evening beckoning, and we continued to ask as many of Barry’s friends as we could find. They all denied seeing him in the past two days. One suggested a different bar, but that was another fruitless trip. I could only hope that Sam might be able to help after all.

I’d always liked Sam, without ever knowing much about him. He was a permanent fixture in the tiny beachside community. Rumors abounded. He’d been in the Special Forces. He was an ex-CIA agent. Olympic athlete. His age could have been anywhere between thirty and forty, and as for his love life…that was as much a mystery. He lived alone at the top of the beach, but the grapevine was convinced he had a wife, one who never visited, or had ever been seen.

We’d just come out of yet another shabby bar when he finally called me back. I put my phone on speaker, to share the conversation with Zack.

“Hey, Holly, do you have Zack with you now?” Sam’s baritone was calm and relaxed.

“Yes, he’s here.”

“Zack, I’m very sorry for your loss. Your sister was a lovely girl, and I’ll miss her. And not just because she made the best coffee this side of Wellington.”

Zack tipped his head. “Thank you.” His voice was clipped. “I need to find Barry Lafferty. Do you have any idea where he might be? I only have tonight to speak to him.”

“I’m not sure. He doesn’t have any family as far as I know, and I guess you’ve checked his work?”

“Yeah.” Zack sighed. “I didn’t think you’d be able to help, but thanks anyway.” He sat back in the car and rubbed at his temples. Lines of tiredness cut across his forehead. He must be exhausted.

“I didn’t say that.” Sam’s voice snagged my attention. “I can make some inquiries. I’ll let Holly know if I find anything.”

“Thanks, Sam.” I terminated the call and reached out to catch Zack’s hand.

He gave me a weary smile. “I just feel so fuckin’ useless. Like everything I believed in was wrong. I was on the other side of the world, breaking up fights over land that had nothing to do with me, while my baby sister needed me. The one person I should have protected. I let her down, Hol. Let her down so fucking badly.” He swallowed hard and stared down at our linked hands.

Tears pressed at my eyes, and I tried to blink them away. If he’d carved a hole in my belly with a rusty knife, it couldn’t have hurt any more. How could he blame himself?

“I failed her,” he whispered, untangling our hands. “I fucking failed her.”

Chapter Nineteen

Zack scrambled out of the car, the door swinging shut. I stared. He paced up and down, hands in his pockets, head bent. Should I go to him? He must want to be alone. I sat, frozen in an agony of uncertainty. When he leaned against the back of my car and dropped to the ground, I finally galvanized myself.

He sat on the dusty car park, and I climbed out and then went to crouch next to him. “What can I do?”

His pain-filled face twisted my stomach in fresh knots. “It was bad enough, knowing she was gone.” He swallowed and glanced down. When he looked back up at me, his face was shuttered, remote and cool. “I wish I’d never spoken to your brother. I think I would have rather not known this.” He continued, his voice a dull monotone. “I could have gone back to Afghanistan and lived with the thought she’d had an accident. A tragic fuckin’ accident.” He blew out a short breath. “But this? Knowing that bastard probably killed her. Hurt her. Abused my baby sister. And I never fucking knew. That’s what I can’t live with, Hol.”

My knees were trembling so hard, I had to stand up and turn away.

I’d known, as soon as Jas broke the ugly truth, that everything would change. If Zack ever saw me again, even just across a crowded street, he’d look the other way. He’d forever associate me with this ugliness.

When my parents died, one of our neighbors had been lovely and kind. She’d bent over backward to help us, assisting my grandmother with the funeral arrangements, looking after Jas and myself for hours at a time. For years afterward I couldn’t even bear to speak to her. She represented the lowest part of my life, and I couldn’t untangle her in my mind from the events she was connected with. I knew Zack would feel the same about me.

I swallowed, sucked in a ragged breath, and tried to compose myself. I couldn’t leave him there, his heart breaking while he blamed himself.

Moving back to him, I held out a hand. “Let me take you home. To your place.”

He slowly pushed to his feet but without my help. “You go, Hol. I’ll make my own way.” We were easily an hour’s drive from Jasper’s. How long would it take him to walk that far? I wrapped my arms around myself. I wouldn’t even consider doing that.

“No,” I whispered.

He frowned, the rapidly approaching dusk lending odd shadows to his face. I watched the last rays of light playing over his stubbled chin, and I waited for him to speak. “I’m not good company, Hol. You’re best—”

“I’m best with you,” I blurted. Thank God it was too dark for him to see my cheeks coloring. I would not let this amazing man continue to beat himself up for something completely out of his control. He might hate me after tomorrow, after he’d returned to his friends and colleagues, but I’d damned well make sure I distracted him tonight.

I forced myself to take another step, moving into his space, crowding him. Not giving him the choice, I grabbed both his hands and squeezed tight. “Let me look after you.” Stretching up, I nuzzled against his chin and felt the rasp of his bristles on my face. “Don’t argue. Come with me.” I brushed my lips over his and felt his resistance, felt him tensing as though he would pull back.

I didn’t give him time to think about it. Releasing his hands, I wound both arms around his neck and kissed him, hard. Please let me love you. His lips were cold. He could have been drinking ice water. Please let me take care of you. Was he frozen inside, too?

“Holly,” he murmured, “I can’t—” No. I refused to listen. When his mouth opened to speak, I darted my tongue inside, flicking and teasing. He sighed. Hot breath flashed over my cheek. “It’s not fair to you.”

“Let me be the judge of that.” I clung tighter and claimed his lips again, praying I wasn’t wrong, hoping I hadn’t screwed up.

“Christ.” He responded, cupping both hands around my face and dropping hungry kisses over my mouth. “You deserve better than me, baby.” At last he was kissing me back. His resistance melted and a second later, he scorched me with the blast as he devoured me. I could have been a dead tree in a forest fire. When he left, all that would remain would be a pile of ash.

I don’t know how long we stood there, entwined on the car park, but when I finally lifted my head, it was completely dark. My heart raced, and every cell in my body burned for him. I placed my palm over his chest and marveled at the steady thump of his heart. How did he have such an effect on me?

“Do you need to see your brother? Walk the dogs?”

“Yes. No. I’m not sure.” I curled my fingers into his jacket, unwilling to move, to pick up my responsibilities again.

Zack smoothed some loose hairs back from my face, his touch painfully gentle. “I’ll drive. You ring him.” He gazed deep into my eyes, his lips a heartbeat away. “If you want to come back with me, I can’t promise to be gentle with you, Hol. I want to pound into you all night long, fuck you until you don’t remember your own name. Do you understand?” Dark flames of lust danced in my belly at his words. He wanted to lose himself in me.

I was already lost.