Page 45

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

BLAKE

I groan as screams penetrate my foggy brain, and I pain lashes at my face as I move my head.

“Fucking hell,” I say, but it comes out as more of a mumble, and I realise my lip is split and swollen. My one good eye latches onto a blur of motion, and I peel the other open, trying to understand where I am and what happened.

“Kincaid, catch!” echoes a voice I’m sure I should recognise. A second later, it hits me. Roman. That’s Roman’s voice. Reality crashes down on me like a damn bursting. Hands tug at my wrists, and I try to fight them off.

“It’s Amos, Blake. Let me get these cuffs off.”

Kincaid.

I hear the rattle of chains and another tug on my wrist as my eyes roll to the back of my head.

Damn! Everything hurts, and my tongue feels like cotton wool in my mouth. Despite the sting, I lick my split lip and raise a hand to wipe whatever it is that’s making my vision blurred.

“Fucking hell,” I curse as white-hot pain stabs at my eye when I touch it. Dropping my hand, I spot something red—blood.

A piercing scream echoes around the room…no, a barn, we were in a barn. Cognizance slowly returns as hands pull at me, and I hear Kincaid talking to someone.

Then he’s gone.

I’m gone.

I lean over, slipping my shoes on, and wince as my ribs smart at the movement. “God damn you,” I grumble.

“You’re not still complaining about your ribs, are you?” Ro teases as he enters my room. The clean, crisp clinical walls and that bleachy, medicinal smell are things I won’t miss of this room. And the food. Anyone who rates hospital food has obviously never had a decent meal.

“How is she?” I ask, changing the subject to something more important than a couple of broken ribs.

His face drops, and he hangs his head. “She’s okay,” he says unconvincingly. “She’ll be okay,” he adds.

“Yeah, she fucking will.” I push to my feet gingerly and grab my things from the bed. “Let’s get the hell out of here and take our girl home.”

Roman opens the door, and I pause to cup his face, feeling the bristles of his stubble scratch against my palm. “And you?”

He kisses me gently, conscious of my split lip, and that’s answer enough for now.

The last twenty-four hours have been fucking exhausting and emotional. I can’t wait to get home and sleep. But before we can do that, we need to check on Hannah and her dad, then we need to break the news to Sydney about her dad.

Roman leads me to the female ward across from this one where Hannah is recovering. Knocking on the door of her private room, a male voice calls out to enter, and Roman pushes the door open slowly.

“Hey, Brian.” Roman greets, walking over to where he is sitting beside Hannah’s bed while she sleeps.

“Roman, Blake,” he says, getting to his feet to shake our hands. He directs us away from Hannah’s bed, not wanting to disturb her while we talk. He looks back over his shoulder to check she’s still sleeping before he speaks. “The cops came by this morning to talk to Hannah, but she was sleeping and the doctor told them she wasn’t well enough to talk yet.” He’s saying the words but there’s no emotion, no inflection, it’s monotone and like he’s just going through the motions.

His gaze wanders back to his daughter. “I need to…to organise Trisha’s funeral and speak with Hannah’s school and look at a therapist, but I?—”

“Hey, Brian. Brian, slow down. You don’t need to think about any of that right now. Just focus on Hannah,” I tell him, and he nods.

“How’s Sydney?” he asks.

“She’s doing okay. She’s being discharged today, but I’m sure she’ll want to check in on Hannah,” Roman says.

“Yeah, that’s…I’d like to thank her, for you know…” His words trail off.

A nurse enters the room, nodding to Brian before her gaze lands on us, and she scowls.

“We’re going,” Roman tells her as she prepares to reprimand us for being in here outside visiting hours. Ro pulls a card from his wallet and holds it out to Brian. “We’ll check in with you in a couple of days, but if you need anything before then, call me. Okay?”

Brian takes the card, slipping it into his pocket, and nods. “Thanks.” Then he walks back to his daughter.

We leave him to it and head down to Sydney’s room. She’s dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed when we enter. She lifts her head to look at us. “Hey, we ready to go?” She hops off the bed without waiting for an answer and walks toward us.

Her bruised cheek and nose look worse today, and I wish I could bring the motherfucker back from the dead to torture him over and over.

“Syd—”

“Let’s go,” she says bluntly, cutting me off. “Please,” she tacks on the end, softening her tone.

Ro shakes his head when I gesture to her as she walks past us to the door. “We’ll tell her once we’re home,” he says before following and almost getting hit by the swinging door.

As I suspected, this conversation isn’t going to wait until we get home. The second we leave the hospital in the opposite direction of her father’s house, she’s asking questions.

“Pa’s is that way. I need to check on him.”

“Let’s get home first, then we’ll go and see him later,” Ro tells her.

“No, I want to check he’s okay, and I think I might stay with him for a bit.”

I spin in my seat, wincing as an arc of pain shoots up my right side. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why?” she scowls at me. “What are you not telling me, Blake Cassidy?”

“He’s not there,” Ro states casually.

“No, then where is he?” Neither of us answer for a few minutes. “Roman, where is he?”

I dip my head and sigh. Looking back up at her, she looks to me, and I know she can read it my eyes. “He was arrested last night, Syd.”

Her face morphs from anger to resignation, and she slumps back in her seat, looking out the window.

“It’ll be ok?—”

“Please don’t say it’ll be okay. Nothing about any of this is okay, Blake.” She turns her tortured expression on me as tears well in her eyes. “He’s going to prison, isn’t he? And don’t lie to me. No more damn lies.”

“It’s possible, yes. But we got him a good lawyer and he can argue extenuating circumstances. It’s not an open and shut case.”

She looks away, staring out the window again. “And Hannah, how’s she?”

“We popped in to see them before coming to you, and she’s doing good.”

“Is she? Is she really, Blake? Her mum just died, and she’s been… I doubt she’ll ever be good again.”

She drops her head back and closes her eyes, effectively cutting off any further conversation. We drive the rest of the way in silence.

Syd heads straight for her room, the one she was using before all this shit went down, and Ro and I go to the kitchen, giving her some space.

“This is a fucking mess, Ro,” I say, sitting on one of the stools as Ro opens the fridge.

“You want one of these?” he asks, holding up a beer.

“Hell yes! I think I might become an alcoholic. At least it will numb the pain. Why the fuck are broken ribs so painful?” He hands me my beer, and I take a healthy mouthful, letting out a satisfied sigh as I pull the bottle away from my mouth.

Ro leans against the counter beside me, drinking his own beer. “Roxy called this morning. She’s given me a number for a friend who works with victims of sexual assault, specifically trafficking.”

“Sounds good. Maybe we can get Syd and Hannah to go together?”

“She mentioned she might have some work for us, if we’re interested.”

“If it involves taking out vile cunts like JC, then count me the fuck in.” I don’t even need to think about it. And it’s not like it will be far from what we’ve been doing anyway.

“You spoke to her about what went down in that barn?” I ask, knowing it’s been playing on his mind. It’s been playing on mine.

He shakes his head. “I will.”

“Good. Sooner rather than later. Don’t let it fester and grow more heads.”

He chuckles. “Yes, doctor,” he says, around a smile.

“No, nurse. I’d look good in a nurse’s uniform,” I say, an idea forming in my head. Ro arches a brow as he looks at me, his bottle paused halfway to his lips. “Yeah, thought you’d like that idea,” I tell him with a wink.

“Filthy!” he says, placing his bottle down.

And we set about making some dinner. We’ll be okay. It’s going to take some time, but we’ll get there.