Page 20

CHAPTER 20

SCARLET

I’ve seen men with grave expressions like Nick’s before. My gaze drops to his waist, searching for the telltale bump beneath his jacket.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“The nurse left for the wheelchair,” I answer.

“Can’t you walk?” He’s derisive and surly to his sister, but she’s not flustered by his gruff tone.

We’ve been tucked away in accident and emergency all day. The doctor recommended she stay, in an abundance of caution, overnight, but Nick declined. He’s been in and out all day, presumably sorting business.

Curious about her perspective and with little else to say, I asked Lina what he does, and she gave a half-hearted, “What doesn’t he do?”

She drops her head, looking down at her legs. She’s in the clothes I found her in, and there’s a dark stain on her Jodhpurs that looks suspiciously like horse manure.

“Let’s wait for the wheelchair,” I say to Nick, meeting his eyes.

It’s hard to believe this morning he was inside me and we were in sync. At the moment, he has the wild, harried look of a demented serial killer.

“I can’t wait to crawl into my bed,” Lina says, rubbing her temple.

“Have you still got a headache?” I ask.

“I don’t feel good,” she mumbles.

“You’re not going home,” Nick says.

“What?” Lina and I ask simultaneously.

“I found a program that’s going to take you in.”

“I’m not going to rehab.” Her gaze is down, shoulders hunched. “I don’t need it.”

“It’s not up for debate.” He pulls a mobile out of his pocket. “I’ll be outside.”

“He’s such an arsehole,” Lina says when he’s no longer in earshot.

“He cares for you.”

She has to see it. I don’t know that I agree with his decision to force her into a rehabilitation program. She needs it, there’s no doubt. But from what I understand of them, they don’t work unless she wants to get help. But I’ve spent my life around men like Nick. He’s used to calling the shots. He won’t accept this isn’t his issue to solve. He also won’t accept that he’s powerless.

The nurse, a young Black man with a cheery smile, arrives, pushing a wheelchair. “Here we are, love.” He comes around to help her from the bed to the chair. “Know it’s not my place, but the doc’s right. Staying the night?—”

“You’re right. It’s not your place,” Lina snaps.

The nurse meets my gaze over her head. I’m not an expert on these things, but I suspect she’s still high. If there are stages, I’d say she’s becoming lucid and grumpy. If she’s truly well and addicted, withdrawal symptoms will descend.

Lina settles into the chair, and her head lolls back, and her eyelids close.

“All right, love. Let’s get you out of here. But you’ve got to promise me we won’t see you back, you got that? Fly straight.”

I follow behind them and can’t see Lina, but if she heard him, I’d bet she’s not at all pleased.

The nurse wheels her out below an overhang. There’s a black Range Rover with the back door open. And parked behind it are four more SUVs, and in front, two more. A group of men stand on both sides of the exit, all in dark clothes and overcoats.

Nick sees us and drops his mobile into a pocket. I give him a questioning look. I’m no stranger to security, but we didn’t have this before.

What’s going on?

This can’t be good. Something has happened.

“Hell,” Lina says. “Did you hire a goon squad?”

Nick bends to help his sister, but she pushes him off.

“I’m fine,” she growls.

“Thank you for your help,” I say to the nurse.

“Are all these folks here for you?”

I shrug, having no idea how to answer.

“We’ve got it now.” Nick slides a bill into his palm. “Go on,” he instructs the nurse. To me, he asks, “Up for a ride?”

I nod and go around to the far side of the vehicle. There’s a man driving, and Nick gets in the seat beside him.

“Are these men going with me?” Lina asks. “Is your idea they’ll watch me around the clock? A dozen sitters for your precious, silly sister?”

Nick’s gaze meets mine in the rearview. If Lina wasn’t high, she’d see he’s not in a jocular mood.

“If they’re bisexual, I’m game. Could be fun.”

Nick’s scowl is the only sign he heard his sister.

I wish to be anywhere but in this vehicle. I don’t have siblings, and for the first time, I’m inordinately grateful.

Lina’s poor jokes aside, I don’t think our additional company has anything to do with Lina, and my stomach roils with uneasiness. He’s been stepping outside because today of all days, the investigation began. Call it a sixth sense. The knowledge seeps into my bones more solidly than the November chill.

They’ll be seeking revenge. He doesn’t need to deal with this, with me. He’s got his hands full.

It’s time for me to disappear.