Page 27 of Beyond the Darkness (Basic Instincts #3)

Luke

Luke wanted to run after him. To beg, plead and convince Hudson that he’d gotten everything wrong. That Amber and Corman had only given him a fragment of the story.

But he stayed glued to the spot, heavy with the weight of what had just occurred. What had been said.

Hudson was right. Not about Luke or what had occurred nine years ago in that high-rise apartment in Leeds, but about the show.

Hudson had to stay focused on Darkest Blue and make it his priority.

To overcome this stress and be ready for the first preview tomorrow.

The official opening night was just days away, when the nation’s theatre critics would be in attendance, looking for excuses to eviscerate the production.

Luke hoped he would be there too, to give Hudson—and the entire cast and crew—the acclaim they deserved, but for now, the best thing he could do was allow him some space.

Himself too.

He also needed time to think.

Luke felt a chilling shiver run through him, despite the warmth of the summer evening. His emotions were threatening to engulf him. Everything had been going so well with Hudson, but suddenly a chasm had opened between them. How had it come to this?

Surely Hudson didn’t seriously believe he’d had anything to do with Julian’s death.

Hudson was overwrought, consumed by strain and the moronic doubts Amber and Corman had put into this head.

What a pair of fucking idiots. Were they so wrapped up in their podcast ratings that they were prepared to derail the play just to put out an episode that would get people talking?

Depressingly, the answer to that was yes.

Luke turned away from the river. He wouldn’t go after Hudson now. Maybe in the morning he would chance a phone call, but tonight they were both too angry to talk this through any more than they had. He’d learned through painful experience that nothing was resolved in anger.

He walked past the two women who had asked Hudson for a photograph.

Noticed the way they were looking at him.

He ignored them. Ignored everyone, forging a direct route to where he had left his car.

Hudson was struggling under the pressure of so many people wanting a piece of him.

He needed a break. Luke didn’t blame the selfie hunters.

People like that were the ones who bought tickets and decided the ultimate fate of any show, whether it ran or folded early.

He groaned as he walked. The pain in his chest was real. It seemed to fill his ribcage. Made his breathing difficult. His heart hurt.

Luke had known that he was falling in love with Hudson all along. Neither of them had ever said as much. It was only now, after their first genuine argument, that he realised how profound his emotions had become. And turning away from him created a hurt he had not foreseen.

Luke adored Hudson. He’d been a fan of his long before the chance of sitting in on Darkest Blue had ever arisen.

He’d always found him handsome on screen, but when he’d first seen him in a live stage show several years earlier, he’s realised how incredibly sexy he was.

The cameras did not do justice to his smouldering good looks.

But it was more than physical appearance.

Hudson had a charm, an intense charisma that was intoxicating and could only be appreciated in person.

Luke had been crushed when Hudson had rejected him that night in The Blue Pearl.

He’d built up the meeting so much in his mind beforehand.

He’d spied him across the bar having drinks with Julian King and had deliberated for a long time whether to approach them.

Luke was no celebrity hound. When he recognised an actor outside of work, he valued their privacy and left them in peace.

But he’d been so captivated by Hudson and overcome with excitement.

It hadn’t seemed like anything bad to introduce himself before he left.

Hudson’s rebuff had been like a punch in the guts.

He’d had no clue that he hated journalists so much. Plenty of famous people did, but the vitriol of Hudson’s attack seemed so personal.

And then in the days afterwards, when Luke had managed to thaw the ice between them, and started to melt his heart, Julian had been killed.

And now Hudson suspected he might have been responsible.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered. The idea of that was insane.

Luke hadn’t lied to him. He didn’t know Julian in any personal way. They certainly hadn’t ever been lovers. The notion was ridiculous. Even if he had known Julian was bisexual, he still would not have been interested in him.

Luke crossed the road and made towards the alley where he had left the car.

He passed by The Blue Pearl where he should have been having dinner with Hudson tonight.

There would be other opportunities, he assured himself.

His relationship with Hudson had gotten off to a difficult start and they’d overcome it.

Luke was determined to win him over again.

The bar was busy. Lively music came through the open doors and windows.

This wasn’t the time to dwell on what he was missing out on.

He was forced to step aside as two couples came along the pavement towards him with no intention of giving way. The man and woman in front showed a faint smile of gratitude as they passed. They second couple didn’t even look at him.

But the man caught Luke’s attention.

He was tall with gingery blond hair and a beard. Muscular and attractive. Only there was something familiar about him. Disturbingly familiar.

Luke turned to watch him walk away.

Last week, when he and Hudson had been attacked by the three men in the car, the man on the passenger side had had a very similar appearance. It had all happened so fast, but Luke had gotten a better look at him later, when they’d watched the CCTV footage captured in the foyer.

Is this him?

The man had an arm draped possessively over the shoulder of his girlfriend. He wore a pale yellow T-shirt, revealing tattooed forearms. Just like their attacker.

Luke was torn. Did he go after him? And do what? He wasn’t even sure this was the same man. Get a photograph of him? Compare it to the security cam footage?

By the time he’d considered all his options, it was already too late.

The two couples had disappeared into one of the bars further along the waterfront.

Damn. He’d missed his chance. Had it been him? Or just a random stranger with a similar appearance?

He ran his hand through his hair. Perturbed, he continued on his way to the car. He couldn’t have challenged the bloke on his own anyway.

In all likelihood he’d been mistaken. His nerves were on edge after what had happened with Hudson, and he was imagining things.

Much like Hudson had today.

Christ. He’d accused him of killing his ex and maybe murdering Julian too.

His car was parked in the shade of an alleyway behind The Blue Pearl. Music blasted as he started the engine, and he shut it off immediately.

Now that he was alone, in private, tears were threatening to come.

His breath was choked. The prospect of losing Hudson was more overwhelming than he’d ever expected.

Especially on the basis of such a dumb misunderstanding.

It was ludicrous, and proved that Hudson didn’t know him at all.

Luke detested violence. He’d spent his entire life avoiding it.

The murders throughout the city in recent years, the escalation in abuse against the LGBTQ+ community—it was all sickening.

He hadn’t known any of the victims of the Blyham Strangler personally, other than a slight acquaintance with the manager of one of the city bars, but their deaths had all hit hard.

He’d mourned each of them. Then a string of separate killings earlier this year when young gay men had been the primary victims, it was all too much.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Hudson couldn’t really believe he was a killer. He was stressed out of his mind, that’s all. Luke would make him understand once the weight of the next few days had passed.

He turned the air conditioning up to max and started on his journey home.

This morning, it was a journey he’d intended to be making with Hudson.

Now they both faced the reality of an anxious night alone.

Reece’s death had devasted Luke. Their relationship had been short and fraught with problems. He hadn’t understood the full extent of Reece’s drug and alcohol misuse.

Like many addicts, Reece had been an expert at hiding it from those close to him.

In the beginning, it had been fun. Reece had been a lively, boisterous drunk.

Full of fun and humour. He’d encouraged Luke to drink to excess and stay out and he’d enjoyed it for a while, still young enough to handle the late nights and make it to work the next day.

Good times like that couldn’t be sustained for long. It was when Luke objected or wanted to cut back that the problems began.

In the eight months they were together, Reece never gave any indication as to why he got so drunk, other than that he liked a good time.

Anyone who challenged him or tried to curb his excesses was labelled a killjoy.

Luke couldn’t keep up with his lifestyle and it was inevitable that they would break apart.

They had fought at the party on the night of Reece’s death.

The only reason Luke had insisted on accompanying him home was to save face for both of them.

Reece’s behaviour had gotten out of hand, and he’d embarrassed everyone with his crude language and unwanted attention.

Luke had naively thought he could get him home, calm him down, then break up with him the next day when he was sober.

Reece had sneered and needled him the whole time and when they’d reached his apartment, Luke hadn’t been able to stand it any longer.

He’d snapped. Told Reece it was over right then.

He was so used to seeing him drunk, he’d thought nothing of his welfare when he’d stormed out of the flat. He’d just had to get away from him.

It was the biggest mistake he’d ever made. The greatest regret of his life.

He’d heard the screams from the balconies above when he’d reached the ground floor and found Reece’s body outside.

Nothing he’d experienced before or since compared to the horror of that moment.

Hudson had not been wrong on one count. Luke had been arrested and questioned by the police following Reece’s death.

The timing was too suspicious for them not to.

Thankfully Reece’s building was well covered by security cameras inside and out.

The time codes showed that Luke was on the stairs, down to the first floor, when Reece fell from the balcony.

He was no longer under suspicion, but it did nothing to relieve his guilt.

If he’d stayed that night, they would surely have argued more.

It would have been ugly, petty, but Reece would still have been alive afterwards, and Luke would have broken up with him in the morning.

That one outburst, the momentary lapse of control when he’d blurted out that they were finished and stormed out of the apartment, had altered everything.

Luke had been repenting that ever since.

After he’d married Kris, and it had become apparent that his husband had alcohol and anger problems of his own, Luke had been determined not to repeat the mistake. It was an opportunity for him to do something right. To help Kris in the way he hadn’t been able to for Reece.

He’d stayed in a difficult, toxic marriage for far longer than was good for either of them, out of fear for what would happen if he left.

Ultimately it had done neither of them any good.

As he turned onto the coastal road, Luke realised he’d driven most of the way on autopilot. He’d been so absorbed in the past, he’d paid little attention to the route. He smacked himself about the face. Get it together.

Another accident would solve nothing.

He would get home, take a shower, then try to put his head in order.

He couldn’t react on stupid instinct like he had before. It would take careful thought and words to get his genuine version of events across to Hudson.

Maybe they both needed a couple of days to cool down before he even tried.

The sun was dipping low on the horizon when he pulled onto his drive, casting beautiful lights across the sky and water. It would have been a perfect setting for romance under different circumstances.

With a weary sigh, he got out of the car and locked it.

The street was deserted. Maybe Molly would visit him later. The cat had an uncanny knack of appearing whenever he was down and needed cheering up. He’d leave the front window open so she could let herself in.

He stood for a moment, looking out to sea, breathing deeply and reminding himself how lucky he was.

This evening had been a blip. A misunderstanding, contrived by Corman and Amber to generate controversy. A new sensation for their show.

He refused to give them that pleasure.

He would make things right with Hudson by the weekend, and they would d be left with nothing to report.

Luke had his keys in his hand when he approached the front door. As he inserted one into the lock, an unexpected noise alerted him. It came from the right side of the house.

Molly?

“Hello?” he called. No reply. An inexplicable unease skittered down his spine.

He turned the key when the sound came again.

Then a figure appeared from around the corner.

A figure wearing a baby-faced mask and carrying a lethal-looking knife. Silently, the figure tilted its head, as if studying him.

For a second, Luke was frozen. It was the Baby Face, the killer from Red Hills Massacre.

This can’t be real. But it was.

He fumbled with the key, struggling to open the door.

That’s when the figure with the knife raced towards him.