by Sofia Grey
She gave the doctor a sweet smile. “Can I go home now, please?”
“It may be more sensible to stay in for the day. We can keep you under observation.”
Her voice was innocent. “Do I need any treatment?”
“Well... no.”
“Do I need more tests?”
“Not at the moment, but—”
“Then why don’t I go home? I can sleep as well there. And if I have a problem, I’ll come back.”
On the one hand, Alex wanted her to stay, with medical professionals a step away, but she was right. And he understood her longing to get out of here.
The doctor agreed, the paperwork was dealt with, and she was on her way, with Jordan driving them back to his apartment.
Alex insisted on carrying her from the basement car park, much to her amusement. After all that happened, he needed to be close to her. The shock of nearly losing her would take a while to recede.
Alex swept her to bed. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she giggled and pushed against them. “Ease up, Rock God. I’m not going anywhere.”
After the week from hell, this was a moment of bliss, and he intended to savour it. There were hard questions to be asked, and pain while they talked through everything. Frankie must have supplied her. Who else could it be? She needed to confirm it, though, before he confronted his manager. After that, they had to get ready for Callum’s arrival. But for now, the only thing that mattered, was holding Sylvie.
He kissed her neck, moved the heavy fall of hair to find the pale skin beneath, closed his eyes, and thanked the stars that they were still together.
Her breathing was slow and steady. He spooned around her, and she snuggled against him. Her body fit his perfectly. They were made for each other.
“Syl?” He kept his voice soft and relaxed.
“Yes?”
“We need to talk later. You know that, don’t you?”
She sighed. Her breath was warm against the hairs on his arm. She kissed the back of his hand. “Yes. I know.” She hesitated. When she spoke, it was a frightened whisper. “Don’t say it now. Let me have one more day with you. Please.”
Guilt stabbed him in the heart. He’d hurt her so very badly. “I was wrong to leave you—very wrong—and I know that. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.”
Her body was tense. She seemed to be curling up into herself.
“Syl, listen to me. We need to talk about where we’ve screwed up, and how we put it right. Together.”
She wriggled around to face him, put her hands on his cheeks, and looked him in the eyes. “Alex, I can’t tell you how much I love you. There are no words to do it justice. When I thought I’d lost you... all I could think of was finding you.”
He started to speak, but she placed a finger on his lips and carried on. “I know it’s not been all you hoped for, but I’m trying—”
“Wait.” He forced his way into her speech. “What are you talking about? Not what I hoped for? I don’t understand.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve turned into a junkie. I know I’m not great on stage yet, or as good as Sam, but I’m trying. I can’t step into his shoes and be everything he was. I can’t take his place.”
Sadness engulfed him. Was this what she’d been worrying about for so long? He had to make things right.
He gathered her tightly. “Syl, listen to me and don’t interrupt. I don’t want you to be a replacement for Sam. You’re you, you’re unique, and you bring your own style and flair to the band. We’re different with you—rounder and more focused. And don’t give me that shit about not being good enough. I was watching a live video of us playing, and babe, you play better than Sam ever did. You have more natural talent in your fingertips than any of us. I have to spend hours practising the riffs and lead breaks, while you pick up the bass line after two or three listens. You’re fucking amazing.” He paused, and searched her face. She gazed back at him.
“And you’re not a junkie,” he continued. “You’ve dabbled, but you’re not hooked, and I’m speaking from experience. I’ll get you straightened out. I promise.”
Her eyes seemed huge. “You mean it?”
“All of it. I can’t lie for shit. You’d be able to tell if I was spinning you a line.”
He watched as a smile emerged, and she nuzzled against him.
“Thank you. Between us, we fucked up, didn’t we?”
“Nah. More of a bump in the road.”
She yawned. “I like to think we’re still at the start of our journey.”
“Damn right. We have our whole lives ahead of us.”
****
Adele curled up in bed with Karl. She yawned, tired and sated. Daylight filtered through the gap in his curtains.
“I guess we’re not going out on your bike today, after all,” she said.
“Guess not. How about tomorrow?”
She pressed her lips sleepily against his chest. “Tomorrow is good.”
He curled his arm around her and dropped a series of light kisses across her bare shoulder. She loved the way his scruff tickled her skin.
“You can stay again tonight, if you want to.” He sounded hopeful.
She thought about it for a millisecond. “I’d like that.”
He was reserved with her. He didn’t want his heart breaking again, and she understood why. They’d talked more about their exes while they were downstairs, the whisky loosening their tongues.
Karl was with Sue for four years, but in an on-off kind of way. She kept running back to her ex, a guy who was off his head most of the time and had the tendency to self-harm. Every six months he’d end up in hospital, and she’d go back to him until he was better. She never had the courage to leave him properly.
Karl had put up with three years of her ping-ponging back and forth, until he made a stand. He moved out of their shared flat, bought this house, and started to make his own life.
Adele felt sorry for him. He deserved better. It explained why he was so cautious about getting involved with her. Until she told him otherwise, he thought she had a furtive relationship with Nick.
It had been the ideal point to tell the truth. All she had to say was, yes, they’d been very close in Paris. But she didn’t.
Adele was on the edge of sleep, when she heard a phone jangling with the intro from a Foo Fighters song. Everlong. “Is that your phone?”
Karl grunted. “Fuck. I left it downstairs.”
“Can you ignore it?”
He sat up. “It might be work. I need to check.”
“Okay. I’ll stay here.” She tugged the covers up, but they weren’t enough to block out the sound of him clattering down the stairs, followed by a muffled thump and a fuck, as he tripped over something. She giggled.
Moments later he appeared in the doorway, phone in hand. “It’s for you. It’s Nick.”
Her heart plummeted. What was wrong now? She took the phone. “Nick? Why are you calling me on Karl’s phone?”
“Melda. I was worried about you.”
She was instantly awake. “Why? What happened?”
“I rang you this morning, to make sure you weren’t bothered by Jason again last night. Your phone is switched off, and you didn’t answer at the apartment. I rang Karl on the off-chance he’d heard from you. Are you two out together somewhere?”
The relief was sweet. Nick was being over-protective; it wasn’t an actual problem. It was a pain that he’d called on Karl’s phone, and it gave her a moment of unease. This call implied more of a relationship with Nick than she’d said.
“I’m at Karl’s house. There was no sign of Jason last night. I’m fine, thank you. There’s no need to worry. You haven’t seen him either?”
“No. He didn’t come to our house, as far as we know.” Nick hesitated. “You didn’t mind me calling, did you? You did say there was nothing between you.”
She’d have to tell Nick this was no longer the case, but she didn’t want to do it w
ith Karl watching and listening.
“No problem. Have a good weekend. Hey, is there any news about Sylvie?” She’d keep the Alex-AJ conversation for next week.
“Yeah. She’s been discharged, thank goodness. It looks as though she’ll be fine.”
This was good news. They said their goodbyes, and then Adele tossed the phone back to Karl. “Nick is such a fusspot. He wanted to check I was okay.”
Karl looked as though he was about to say something, but he huffed a sigh and placed the phone on his bedside cabinet. “Where did we get up to?”
She’d missed another opportunity to explain about Nick. But there was nothing more than friendship between them, so in some ways there was nothing to explain. She could worry about that later.
****
Jordan updated DI Taylor on the sightings of Jason, and the detective assured him they’d open up that line of investigation. Next on Jordan’s to-do list was to catch up with Aiden.
He looked tired, too. He spent the night working on leads to follow up on Jason’s personal finances.
“It looks as though he was in debt, way over his head. His current account was fine, even his credit cards were as you’d expect. But he had a number of large private loans and a house with no fewer than four mortgages on it. My guess is that he was cleaned out at poker games on a regular basis. Add that to his little drug habit, and you have an expensive lifestyle. It certainly makes him a prime candidate for the fraud Lara uncovered.”
Jordan thought about it. “But if he was taking the proceeds of the fraud—we’re talking over two million pounds—he wouldn’t still be overextended.”
“Two possibilities spring to mind. One, that he siphoned the money to a separate offshore account, ready to claim at some point in the future, or two, he was paying off his debtors.”
“Any more ideas about the date rapes?”
Aiden yawned, and then apologised. “Not yet. There are a huge amount of groups and chatrooms to go through. I was thinking of asking your IT guy to lend a hand.”
“Go for it. It’s in his best interest to prove that Jason is alive and kicking.”
There was little more to say. Aiden left to get some sleep, and Jordan called Karl.
Karl answered after a few rings, sounding tired and distracted.
“This is Jordan Merrill. I’m sorry to call you at home. Is now an okay time to ask you something?”
“Yes, of course.” His tone became professional. “What can I do for you?”
“Your idea to search through chatrooms for other women Jason may have assaulted—would you be able to help Aiden with this? It’d improve the chances of getting a result.”
“I can do that. If you let me have his number, I’ll call him and set it up. We might be able to start this afternoon.”
Jordan finished the call, and then brewed a pot of fresh coffee. He was tempted to reach for the malt, but just-past-noon was way too early. His head pounded, and his body ached from head to toe with exhaustion. He was hanging onto control by the tips of his fingers.
It seemed as though everything good was immediately cancelled out by something bad. Sylvie was fine and was reconciled with Alex. Meanwhile, TM-Tech was in trouble again in the press, and Thaddeus had scheduled a session with their legal team for later today. It didn’t matter that it was the weekend; when his father said jump, everyone leapt.
Today’s story in the media was about the supposed fraught relationship between Jordan and Thaddeus, and it alleged they hadn’t talked for months. It was garbage, but it incensed his father. He wanted to sue for libel, but Jordan wasn’t sure it was a good idea. It would pour fuel onto a smouldering story.
If Jordan could do anything at all right now, that would be walking along the beach at home, Kate and Poppy by his side. Not wrestling the corporate alligators trying to snap his ankles. He was too old for this shit.
If these headaches got any worse, he’d have to make some serious decisions. If all he had left was a matter of months, he sure as fuck didn’t want to waste them tidying up the TM-Tech issues.
****
Sylvie was given a check-up appointment at the hospital on Tuesday, so it made sense for them to stay in London. After discussion with the social worker, they decided to use the time to visit Callum, in readiness for taking him home on Thursday. Sylvie gave Daisy the time off, except for their daily visits, and she disappeared to stay with a friend.
Things felt increasingly awkward. There was a Big Talk looming with Alex, but she wanted to have it somewhere private, not in front of their friends. The doctor at the hospital had spoken severely to her about overdosing on amphetamines and how lucky she’d been this time. The implication was that she might not be so lucky next time. She wasn’t planning to take any more. Ever.
The first day out of hospital was fine. She dozed on and off through the day, with Alex often asleep beside her. By Sunday she started feeling strange. Her limbs were heavy and aching, her head fuzzy, and she had no energy. Did she have the flu? The weather was dismal, and it rained all day. It gave her a headache.
She snapped at Kate when Kate invited her to the park. She was rude to Jordan when he asked how she felt. And she was sullen with Alex. She had no control over her emotions. A black and angry cloud had taken over, but nobody noticed.
Sylvie stormed into the guest bedroom, slammed the door like a sulky teenager, and threw herself onto the bed. She wanted to be back at Rhosneigr, walking on the beach. She wanted to play her bass guitar. She wanted to hang out with Lara.
She wanted coffee.
She brewed a fresh pot, but it didn’t satisfy her. It was the middle of the afternoon, and too early for a proper drink. Perhaps she craved chocolate? She raided Kate’s cookie jar, but that didn’t work. How about a long soak in the bath? Her skin felt tight and itchy for no reason, and perhaps that would help.
It didn’t.
What was the matter with her?
Alex came into the bedroom and found her sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring out at the rain.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She gave him the side-eye. “I’m fine. I wish everyone would stop tiptoeing around me, asking how I feel every five minutes.”
He sat on the bed next to her and gazed out the window. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”
“What does?” Her tone was surly. She was as tense as a coiled spring. It wouldn’t take much to shout at him.
“Coming off speed.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean? I’m not a fucking junkie.”
“I didn’t say you were. But it doesn’t take long for the body to crave amphetamines. When you take them away, it can send you a bit off balance for a few days.”
Her temper flared to life. She stood and glared at him, arms crossed defensively across her chest. “I’m not off balance. I’m fed up with being cooped up in here.”
“Let’s go for a walk, then.” His voice was mild.
“It’s raining.”
“We have coats.”
“I don’t feel like it. I’m not great company.”
Alex looked at her, sympathy in his face. “Syl, it’s me you’re talking to. I’ve been there, babe. I’m going to help you through this.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me. For fuck’s sake, just leave me alone.” Even as she snapped it, she wanted to take the words back. She couldn’t believe she was behaving so badly.
He stood and left the bedroom. Instead of feeling satisfaction, fear gnawed at her. She was being a complete bitch. Why? This wasn’t her. She stepped to the window and rested her aching forehead against the glass. She couldn’t go on like this.
Moments later, the door opened, and Alex walked back in, her fleece jacket over his arm. He tossed it to her. “Come on. We’re getting some fresh air—even if I have to drag you outside.”
She sulked a moment longer, expecting him to get cross, but her darling husband was made of better stuff than that. He laughed easily, slipped his arms
around her, and dressed her in the coat, as though she was a child.
“Walk? Or am I dragging you?” His eyes twinkled, and his smile was genuine.
She felt a moment of normality. “Walk, please.”
He took her hand tightly in his.
She hoped he could help her. She had nothing else.
Chapter Thirty
Alex kept tight hold of Sylvie’s hand, as they strolled up the street, dodging shoppers, tourists, and family groups. They were two more people in the crowd, and nobody paid them any attention.
He glanced at Sylvie. Her hair was tied back, raindrops sparkling in the loose strands on her face. Her jacket looked damp, too. He only had a vague idea of where they were. Harrods was across the road, and there were shops and cafes everywhere. They trudged on, hands entwined. He remembered the sensations of coming off drugs, some worse than others. Speed wasn’t so bad; she’d be back to normal in a few days. But it felt like hell at first. He’d warned Kate and Jordan she’d be irritable and moody, prone to flying off the handle and unsettled. They were fine, of course.
He thought about Jordan’s revelations as they walked. It was a surprise that Jordan had been a drinker, when he always seemed so controlled. The big one, though, was his headaches, and the very real possibility he had a serious problem. Alex hated the helplessness of being unable to do anything. He had few close friends, and Jordan had become one of them. He’d been a lifesaver to Alex, and now he was in pain and carrying a huge secret.
There were only two things Alex could do. One was to tell Kate. This would put their unborn child at risk, as well as risk his and Jordan’s friendship, but might save Jordan’s life. The other option was to do nothing.
Or was it?
He thought hard. Turned over a moral dilemma in his head. Jordan was in a lot of pain, and over-the-counter medication barely held it back. Alex knew where to get a stronger, more effective painkiller. Something that would help Jordan function normally for the next few weeks.
Alex hated that he was even considering it.
It was akin to making a deal with the devil.
