Page 37 of Knights Game (Checkmate #1)

37

Layla

“I feel like I’m having this weird out of body experience,” Katy says, her legs resting on the sofa, body on the floor. “That was messed up.” She breathes the words out in a sigh. “Like really messed up.” She leans up on her elbows and looks at me where I sit on the sofa, staring at the wall.

It’s late afternoon, I’ve heard nothing more from Luca, and after disinfecting ourselves, we have made nests in the living room whilst we process. At my home. Not his sodding penthouse.

“You were amazing,” she says seriously. “You just, you didn’t panic, took control, and you were incredible. You know you saved those girls today, right?”

“But twenty-two of them didn’t make it. Fuck, Katy.” I stand and pace. “People trafficking.” I blow out a breath. “How can I keep just bumbling on this path without going What in the actual fuck …”

“But, Layla, I don’t think that’s them.” She changes position and looks like an upside-down tortoise as she manoeuvres awkwardly.

“You look ridiculous.”

“My arse hurts.”

I hold up my hand. “I don’t want to know.”

“I just don’t think that’s what they’re about. I think they are more drugs, weapons, and money laundering.”

“Oh, you know, the lesser crimes.”

“Well, they are! The fact of the matter is, we don’t know what they do. Not really.”

“I know it’s drugs,” I admit. “And you’re right.” I flop back down on the sofa. “He was adamant it was a set-up, and now they’ll turn London upside down to find out who’s behind it. We probably shouldn’t have come here…we should have gone back to his.”

I’m his weakness after all.

Levi knew it and tried to exploit the situation and having me parading around at the gala dinner last night like a show pony means everyone else will know it too.

Which means I have a new target on my back if what happened today was a set up.

“You think we’re in danger.”

“More so than yesterday. Come on, they won’t be back for hours yet and I have a key.”

“Should I pack a suitcase?” she asks, standing, stretching her back out.

“No, Katy, we’re going round there, you’re not moving in.” I scoff as my phone vibrates.

Grandad.

“Hello,” I answer, my voice small and shaky.

“Layla, it’s Sylvia.” I can hear it in her voice. Urgency.

“What’s happened?”

“He’s had a fall.” She clears her throat. “He’s fine, battered and bruised, but I think it would be helpful if he could see you. He’s in a bit of a state.”

“I’ll be right there.”

I hang up and run to the front hallway, Katy hot on my tail.

“He’s had a fall.”

“Do you need me to come with you, isn’t it safer?”

“You stay here, lock all the doors, and call Roman. Ask him where you should go. Here’s the key to Luca’s if he says go there. No packing a suitcase.”

She looks at me, eyes wide. “Fuck. This has just gone from a little bit of a winky butt hole to full on shit your pants. Take my car and call me when you get there. Be safe.”

I wrap her in a quick hug and run out of the house with the keys.

“Tell Luca!” she shouts as I jog down the pathway. “This is probably connected.”

The thought had crossed my mind, but if Levi was with Luca, who has hurt Grandad?

I drive the short ten minutes to the village, throwing Katy’s mini around the London roads quicker than I should. I pull into the first space I see and take out my phone, sending a quick message to Luca, and I’m momentarily conflicted at how much I wish he was here. But can’t help the rampant thoughts running through my head that this is connected to Levi, and in turn, him.

I race into the stuffy care home, not bothering to sign in. As I reach Grandad’s room, Sylvia comes out.

“He’s fine, he’s fine,” she reassures me, seeing my panicked face. “The doctor’s in there with him, he’s confident that nothing is broken, but they will take him up to the hospital to make sure once he’s calmed down.”

I hear him shouting, “Get your grubby mitts off me!”

Sylvia smiles sadly. “I think we may need to sedate him.” She squeezes my shoulder and I walk into the room.

“Reg,” says Victoria one of Grandad’s regular caregivers, “Calm down, the doctor is trying to check your hand.”

“Poking and prodding isn’t going to make it any better is it, you morons.” He bats them away.

“Grandad.” I crouch next to him. A plaster has been put over his head and the side of his face looks red and swollen. “What have you done to yourself?” I try to take his hand but he’s having none of it.

“Who the bloody hell are you?”

“It’s Layla, Grandad.” I take his good hand as the doctor examines the other. My presence has distracted him just enough.

“Layla?”

I smile, even though inside I’m wilting like a flower.

“Sarah?” He squints and my heart cracks.

“Yes, it’s me. What are you doing to yourself? The doctor said you fell.”

“Did I?” He looks over at his hand, frowning. “It feels okay.” He clenches it and turns it. “Bit bruised maybe. My head hurts.” He pulls his hand away from me and touches the bandage, trying to remove it.

“No, Grandad, leave it there.” I pull his hand back down. “It’s there to make it better.” He looks at his hand in mine frowning, his confused expression turning into one of anger.

Tears fill his eyes. “You’re not Sarah.”

“Grandad, please.”

He pushes me away.

“Where’s my Sarah?” he says, his voice tired and gruff. “Sarah! Sarah! Where are you?” Tears track down his face, and I try to push my emotion down. The carer is trying to shush him as I watch on helplessly.

“Sarah isn’t here, Reg, but Layla is. Layla always comes to see you.”

“Where’s Sarah?”

“Grandad.”

His hand lashes out suddenly and he hits me with such force I fall backwards, my tailbone hitting the ground.

“Oh no!” Sally says, rushing to help me up. “Are you okay?”

“I should go, I don’t think I’m helping.” My voice shakes, and I touch my cheek where he hit me. Quietly, I leave the room.

The tears that I had managed to hold at bay explode, and I walk down the hallway as the paintings on the wall blur behind them. A sob claws at my throat, and I desperately try to contain it.

I just need to make it outside.

I just need to get to the bench under his window. I sit down on the cold wood and look at his favourite tree, the birds coming and going. I can still hear his shouting from inside.

I swallow down the pain as my tears track down my face and breathe through my heartbreak. I know when the sedation takes hold, because everything becomes deathly silent, and the only thing that I can hear is my own muffled breathing and the birds chirping happily, completely oblivious to the sea of torment running through me.

Sylvia comes shortly after with a tea and sits with me, telling me that they are waiting for the transport to take him to the hospital. I can see him if I want to. Then disappears, leaving me with my messy thoughts.

A robin lands at the bird feeder, and I tilt my head in question. I’ve never noticed a bird feeder before. The robin flies away as another bird lands, the feeder bringing more and more birds to the little tree for a visit.

A car pulls up. His car.

He’s changed clothes, his suit gone, replaced by jeans and a long-sleeve black T-shirt that hugs his muscles.

“Layla?” Concern creases his beautiful features, and he joins me on the bench. His sandalwood scent, the warmth of his body so close sets me off. I’ve never had someone drop everything to come to me, certainly someone who is dealing with the aftermath of the dockyards.

He’s left everything in whatever state it’s in, he’s dropped it all.

For me, but after last night…I’m so confused.

Why would he do that if he didn’t care about me? But why would he do what he did last night if he cared about me? Between my grandad, last night, the girls. It’s all too much.

His strong arms wrap round me and pull me to his chest.

“He…he fell. He was in such a state.”

He shushes me and rubs my back. Then he touches my cheek. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” He kisses me gently on the lips. “I know that doesn’t make it any easier, but he didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I just…It breaks my heart. I hate seeing him like that.”

He kisses the top of my head, and holds me.

“Luca, is all this—”

“Layla!”

I unclench my fist and drop my hand, clearing my throat at hearing my name being called.

Sylvia comes outside again. “Sorry to interrupt.”

I breathe in deeply and wipe my eyes.

“Are you alright?” Sylvia comes over to me and grabs my hands. Luca remains stoic and silent, but doesn’t move, instead watching the interaction with cold dark eyes.

The arsehole's back.

Mask in place.

Emotion hidden.

I shake my head, pulling myself back together. “I will be. Is he okay?”

“He’s settled. Come on, let’s go get a coffee and talk.”

Luca stands. “Luca Knight. Layla’s boyfriend,”

Boyfriend.

“Nice to meet you. Do you want him to join us?” she asks.

He squeezes my hand, tucking me protectively under his arm.

“You remember where my office is? I’ll get the coffee.”

“Just two waters.” My head is pounding.

She nods and leaves us.

I sigh and look up at him.

“I know.” He replies to my unspoken words.

“Why are you here?” I ask, as I navigate us through the sad corridors of the care home.

“You needed me. Of course, I would be here.”

“At what point did I tell you I needed you?” He pulls me closer to him as we walk past someone.

“At the point I read your message. At the point I heard that someone you loved had been hurt. At the point that I realised I can’t stand you being in any sort of pain, and it fucking kills me that last night I was the one that caused it, and instead of being able to make it up to you, you’ve had to deal with the warehouse and now this.” He runs his hand through his hair. “And at the point we both realised that this most likely is linked to my family.”

“Unbelievable,” I whisper. “So what? You’re here to help with your investigations?”

“No, Layla. I’m here for you. You. No, you didn’t tell me you needed me, yes, you could deal with all of this on your own, you’re strong and independent. But why should you have to? So, if you want to tell yourself I’m here to investigate , because it makes it easier to keep me at arms length, so be it. But I had to make sure you’re okay. And I’m sorry if that pisses you off.”

I let his words sink in, the way that my heart beats faster, the way that warmth spreads in my chest. The way that he makes me feel.

“Last night, I may have overreacted,” I mutter.

“You didn’t and we’ll talk later.” He kisses me quickly. “Now, how did he fall?”

“They aren’t sure. He hasn’t been able to get out of the chair unaided for a while. Hopefully Sylvia can shed some light on the situation. The care has slipped recently, short on resources.”

“But can we move him? If it was necessary?”

I shake my head. “He stays here. He doesn’t know much, but he knows that room, and he’s settled. If I move him, he loses that. He’s already lost himself. I c-can’t have him losing the one thing that has him settled.”

I untuck myself from his arm and open the door to Sylvia’s small office.

A desk sits under a small window with two chairs in front of it, paper covering the surface as well as some personal items including pictures of her family.

“You know I’m going to find it hard to stay quiet during this?” Luca says.

I know him well enough to know that he will take control of this conversation. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for caring, Layla.”

I sit in one of the chairs, tired; Luca next to me, his bulk and dominance making the space feel smaller, and I feel safe. I want to sit on his lap and let him wrap his arms around me and care for me.

Wash away last night and today.

“You’re blushing.”

“Shut up.”

He leans back in the chair, a smug look on his face.

“Get that expression off your face.”

“What expression?” he asks innocently.

“That smug look that makes me want to punch you in the face.”

“You always want to punch me in the face.”

“That’s because you’re an irritating twat face.”

“I know.” He replies, leaning forward. “And you’re a fucking nightmare. But let’s not talk about that now, we can talk about that when I take you home after.”

“What about Katy?”

“Roman is sorting Katy.”

“You know they had sex last night?”

“I don’t care what they did last night.”

“Could have been anal,” I say pulling a face.

“Ah, sunshine, if that’s the expression that comes to your face when you think about anal, you’ve been doing it wrong.” He leans closer to me, invading my space. “I’ll show you if you want, I’ve always wanted to fuck you there.”

“Can you not?” I say, pushing him back, and the fucker leans back grinning. “Anal is the furthest thing from where my head is at right now.”

“And where’s your head?”

“A chaotic place to be,” I answer honestly.

“What would help?”

I don’t answer for a minute.

“A bubbly bath.”

“You can have a bubbly bath at mine. I’ll even let you scrub my back.”

I raise my eyebrow. “I think you’re getting confused with how my bubbly baths work.”

“It’s going to be in my tub, therefore it’s my bubbly bath rules.” He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I let out a small laugh.

The door to the office creaks open and Sylvia walks in with two bottles of water. My muscles tense and I reach for Luca. Temporary bubble burst.

He places one hand on my knee and takes my other hand.

“Here we are,” Sylvia says brightly, placing the bottles down on the desk in front of us. “Sorry about that, I just popped my head in once more. He’s sleeping soundly.”

“And his arm?”

“Bruised, not broken, we think. He’s going to be just fine Layla. But there are some things we need to talk about.” She opens her top drawer and pulls out a file.

“What caused the fall?” Luca asks.

“We still aren’t sure. But he had a visitor this afternoon.” I sit up. “A Mr White?” she looks up at me questioning and I cross my arms tightly as I frown.

“No, I’m the only person who visits him.” I feel sick. I fidget in my chair, crossing and uncrossing my legs, shifting my body. I know exactly what caused this.

I did.

I made the deal.

No wait, not me. Him. The devil that sits beside me. This is his world, his doing. He was supposed to keep him safe, yet here we are.

“We’re still looking into it,” Sylvia says. “We think this Mr White may have gotten him worked up, and somehow, he managed to get out of the chair and fall.”

Luca can’t protect Grandad.

Tears burn the back of my eyes.

“Do you have CCTV?” Luca asks.

“Yes, but it’s not really in our policy to share it.”

“Of course.” He nods. “Please, can you make sure that no one is allowed access to him unless it’s Layla or someone we approve?”

“Of course. I can assure you that he’s safe here, Layla. You know how strong he can get if he’s worked up, the human body is capable of surprising things. Now whilst you’re here, I wanted to walk you through the new care plan.” She shuffles the papers on the desk. “They have upped his care package, but as you know it doesn’t cover everything—"

“Whatever he needs, you do it, money isn’t an issue.” Luca interrupts.

“Can we do this another day.” I say, my voice small, my head pounding.

She smiles at me sympathetically and nods, “Of course. I’ll take copies so you can digest the information, and before you go, I’ve got the boxes you asked out of storage. I’ve pulled together everything we have. It’s at reception if you wanted to take it back with you today, but no problem if you want to grab it when we talk through the care package.”

The meeting with the lawyer Luca arranged feels like a lifetime ago.

“Thank you so much. I’ll get them on my way out.”

He’s hurt because of me.

He’s hurt because I couldn’t protect him.

Because Luca couldn’t protect him.

Luca stands up, sticking his hand out to shake Sylvia’s.

Everything in those boxes will lead back to my parents, their will, legal documents. Everything that Sylvia had stored for my grandad. It’s creeping up to the anniversary, and I feel like I’m drowning. Desperately trying to tread water, and for once I’ve got someone beside me throwing me a life vest.

Luca passes his business card to her. “She’ll be staying with me, here’s my contact number. If you can’t get hold of her, please call me. Layla?” He crouches down next to me, and I turn my tear-filled eyes to him, at this point I don’t even try to hide the state I’m in. “Let me take you home.”

Home.

He tucks me under his arm again and Sylvia stands. “Take care of her,” she says.

“I just want to pop in and see him before we go,” I say as we navigate back through the tired hallways. I let him hold me to him, sending me strength through the little touches of reassurance. A squeeze of my hand, a rub on my back. “Here’s his room.”

He can’t see the tree he loves so much from his bed, where I see he is settled and sleeping peacefully. I pull the stool out; Luca rests against the door frame, his gaze falling on the shelf of family photos.

“Well, look at you,” he whispers, crossing to pick up a picture of me and my family. “You look so cute.”

I smile and join him.

“Your parents?”

“I was ten, we were visiting Grandad. I think he took the picture. It was one of my fondest holidays. If I close my eyes, I can remember my dad and Grandad bickering about which bait was best. I can see Mum roll her eyes and I can see the book I was colouring. It’s weird how some memories just stick.”

I put the photo back on the shelf, turning it towards Grandad just in case he can see it from the bed.

I take one last look at him sleeping peacefully and leave, closing the door just as another bird lands on the new bird feeder.

Strange that I’ve never noticed it before.