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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Facing The Truth

N othing was better than a cup of tea made just the way you like it, especially after drinking the dirt water they call tea in hospital.

Connor was curled on my lap and I was ignoring the increasing throb in my left shoulder. I wasn’t ready to take one of the pain pills they’d sent me home with, because I was sick and tired of sleeping.

My phone was on the lounge beside me. I’d ordered some Indian on Uber Eats and every time I picked it up to check the delivery status, I found myself straying to my text messages and staring blankly at the cursor as it flashed in the new message bar under Joel’s last message.

Call me

It was sent the same time he left the voicemail.

I wanted to text him. I couldn’t possibly text him.

A belting knock sounded on the door. My brow knitted – no way my food had arrived so quickly! Tipping Connor off my lap, I approached the door and opened it.

“Miss Black, we need to search your apartment,” Detective Taylor said. I gaped at the team of gloved police waiting behind her .

“Why?” I demanded.

“We have uncovered some new evidence from Thomas Blackthorn’s home, and we believe it may be linked to corresponding evidence here.”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked. She shook her head.

“We’re collecting evidence for a serial murder case, Miss Black. This is very important. You’ll need to vacate until we have everything we need.”

“And how long will that take?” I asked faintly. Connor bunted up against the back of my leg and I stooped to pick him up, hissed in pain, and gave up. Taylor actually looked mildly sympathetic.

“I’d suggest you find somewhere else to stay overnight, at least. You’ll need to take your cat, too. It’s essential that we do a full sweep of the entire apartment.”

“Why?” I asked again. Taylor refused to reply, instead pushing past me and gesturing for her team to head inside.

Less than twenty minutes later I was sitting in the stairwell outside, with an overnight bag, eating rapidly cooling Indian food next to Connor, growling resentfully in the cat carrier. Police tape barred my apartment door, muffled murmurs coming from the forensics team inside.

I didn’t know what to do next. I couldn’t ask Brad to take us in – his granny flat was tiny, there was barely enough space for one person, let alone two and a grumpy cat.

I pulled up Mum’s number, but paused over dialling. She and I needed to talk, but me showing up with Connor in tow and asking to sleep in my childhood bed … I couldn’t swallow my pride enough for that.

And of course, the other option – Joel – was completely off the table.

“I can’t call him, Connie, I just can’t,” I muttered. “He doesn’t want to see me.”

“Who doesn’t want to see you, Stink? ”

I almost tipped down the stairs, I leapt to my feet so fast. He stood in the stairwell, arms across his chest.

I gaped. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

Joel’s lips twitched downwards. “I … heard you’d been sent home today. I just wanted to check … you know, that you have everything you need, and maybe talk rehab for your shoulder.” He looked behind me to the police tape over my door. “What’s happening in there?”

“Apparently there’s some important evidence they need to gather. And then they have to do a full sweep of my apartment. No idea why – they won’t tell me anything.” I shrugged, then hissed at the pain in my shoulder. “So, I’m temporarily homeless.”

Joel snorted. “You’re ridiculous, Stinky. Let’s get your shit and get down to my car. Mum will be delighted to have you.”

And what about you? I thought grumpily as I grabbed my overnight bag in my good hand, while Joel juggled Connor and all his stuff. How delighted will you be about this?

The silence in the car on the way back to Joel’s was awkward. Silence had never been awkward between us before London.

“How’s your head?” I asked to break the tense quiet. I’d seen the stitches just below his hairline. I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. His hair was shorter. It suited him.

Oh, Mel, who are you kidding? You’d love his hair no matter how he wore it!

Joel ran two fingers over the stitches self-consciously. “It’s okay. How’s your arm?” Joel asked, the way an old school acquaintance would ask you how you’d been when they bumped into you in the street. I gritted my teeth.

“It’s been better, but you’d know that already if you’d …” I trailed off. Joel’s mouth twisted, but he didn’t say anything. I pursed my lips and turned to face the road again.

God, why can’t I just tell him the things I feel; get it over and done with? I silently asked. As usual no answer appeared magically out of thin air.

Joel took Connor straight into my usual guest room, leaving immediately. I slammed the door behind him, gritting my teeth because the movement hurt so much.

I opened Connor’s cage and he leapt out and scuttled under the bed, tail up like a bottlebrush.

There was a knock on the door.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

No answer. I groaned and got to my feet, reaching the door and wrenching it open. Connor’s litter box was outside. Joel was nowhere to be seen.

I sighed and dragged it into the bathroom. I stripped my clothes off and ran the shower cold. I needed something to soothe the hot anger that was racing through my veins.

I strained in the mirror to see the hole where the bullet had entered me at the back of my shoulder.

They’d stitched the hole shut, but they told me not to wear a dressing on it anymore – it needed to breathe.

The black stitches stood out against the angry red wound.

I was going to have one doozy of a scar there. I sighed. Nothing I could do about it.

I climbed into bed naked and with wet hair. I was so tired I felt like I would sleep for a century.

So of course, I couldn’t sleep at all. Anger pulsed under my skin. I tossed and turned.

It was about three when I gave up. I pulled an oversized t-shirt out of my bag and dragged it over my head. It fell almost to my knees.

The house was silent, sleeping. Why could everything else seem peaceful, when I was full of turmoil? It didn’t seem fair.

I filled a glass with water from the tap in the kitchen and guzzled it in one breath. I filled it again and padded quietly out towards the patio. The door slid open silently. I curled up on a love seat that overlooked the garden and pool below.

The moon was full and it lit the night better than any artificial light. I pulled the t-shirt over my knees. The neckline was so stretched that it slipped off my left shoulder. The cool air on my wound actually felt nice. I didn’t pull it back up.

“I’ve never seen a bullet wound before. ”

I jumped, spilling the glass of water down the front of my t-shirt.

“What are you doing?” I hissed crankily. “You’re supposed to be asleep!”

His mouth tweaked. “So are you.”

He didn’t move to sit beside me, for which I was grateful. I was suddenly hyper-aware that underneath this thin and now see-through shirt I was completely naked. He stood to one side and peered at my shoulder with detached interest, like I was a medical specimen.

I glared up at him and felt the rude retort die in my throat.

In the moonlight the gash on his forehead looked much more dramatic. Conscious of the direction of my gaze, his hand went up and touched the wound. His mouth quirked wryly and he shrugged.

“Chicks dig scars, don’t they, Stink?” he asked me. I rolled my eyes, but the shudder in my breath gave away how even that throwaway comment cut me deep.

“You didn’t even come to see if I was okay,” I accused, dragging my eyes from him and staring out across the silvery, sleepy harbour.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”

I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “Could you not have just shown up anyway? If I didn’t want you there, I would have let you know.”

Joel chuckled humourlessly. “I’m sure you would have, Stinky.” I hazarded a glance his way. He was watching me with wary eyes.

“What happened the other night? Before I got there, I mean.” I leaned back against the seat and watched him expectantly. He sighed and looked down, scrubbing a hand across his jaw.

“Mum answered the door. I’d told her it was probably you. He held her at knife point and threatened to hurt her if I didn’t do what he said. He forced us downstairs and tied Mum up. He said he hadn’t wanted to get her involved, but … well, you heard the things he said when you got there.”

“Why did he hit you?”

Joel shrugged. “I argued with him. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that his reasons for doing it weren’t really …” Joel’s voice trailed off.

“Weren’t really what? What reasons?!” I demanded, gesturing with my left arm. I felt the burn and I gasped, letting my arm drop to my side.

Joel took a step towards me and then stopped. “Stink, your shoulder’s worse than you’re making it out to be, isn’t it?”

I could hear the concern in his voice and I looked away. “Don’t try to change the subject, Joel. What did you argue with him about?”

Joel heaved out a sigh. “He accused me of hurting you. Of misleading you. I disagreed.”

I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want him to know that I thought Thomas might have been more right about that than Joel would like to admit.

“He said that you didn’t know what was good for you, that you keep making bad decisions. That you need a man who’ll treat you right, who’ll look after you the way a woman deserves to be looked after.”

I gagged at that. “What, did he think that would be him ?” I asked incredulously.

“I don’t know, he wasn’t making much sense. All I know is that he definitely thinks that I’m not the right guy for you.”

I turned and faced the pool again, gritting my teeth to stop the tears from falling.

“And you told him that you weren’t hurting me and he hit you?” I clarified. Joel didn’t answer right away. I wanted to look at him, but I didn’t let myself. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to hold the tears back.