“That’s a coincidence! She didn’t even recognise him!”
“And what if that was just an act?” James shakes his head. “I don’t like this, Chance. I don’t like it at all. You mark my words. Now that she’s seen King in your office, she’ll be running to Daddy with every move you make. Just keep an eye on her, ok?”
“I don’t need to keep an eye on her.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. James senses he’s pushed it too far, and takes a step back from the fire in my eyes. “Zara doesn’t have the faintest interest in what goes on in the business. I don’t want to hear another word about this. Is that clear?”
It’s not over. I can tell by the way the muscle in James’s jaw ticks as he answers. But he tells me what I want to hear all the same.
“Sure,” he says, shrugging. “Whatever you say. It’s your funeral, Chance. Trust her if you want to. Just don’t come crying to me a second time when she leaves you in the dirt.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Zara
Martin King. I suppose I do recognise him, now that I think about it. He’s a face I’ve seen around the Sunview Hotel opposite the Snack Shack, chatting with other men in suits. My father’s never had much time for men like him. Why on earth should my family be important enough to him that he remembers my name?
Notorious, he called Dad. That would make me smile, if it weren’t for what he said shortly afterwards. Your father’s not giving me any more trouble.
What the heck does that mean?
I call up Mum from Chance’s house phone. It’s not as if the cost of an international call will bother him. She doesn’t respond the first few times I try, and when she does pick up, later in the day – it must be really late at night in Malaysia – she doesn’t sound like herself. Her voice is strained. Worried.
“Oh, no,” she says, when I ask if I can speak to Dad. “Your Dad’s not here at the moment. He’s…sleeping at the sanctuary tonight. He’ll be back…soon. I’ll get him to give you a call sometime. Don’t worry about me! I like the peace and quiet!”
Well, that’s a lie. Mum hates being home alone. Guilt twists in my stomach. Here am I, having the time of my life in London as the billionaire’s girlfriend, eating out in fancy restaurants and going to see shows at the West End, while Mum’s – what? Abandoned? Alone in the house? It’s not like Dad to leave her.
But I can’t get any more details out of her, and in the end I say a falsely cheerful goodbye and hang up the phone.
Chance gets home earlier than usual. He looks preoccupied, but I’m too worried myself to wait and find out what’s on his mind. I blurt it out before I can stop myself:
“I want to go home.”
Chance looks stricken. Shit. I guess it didn’t come out well. I try again.
“I mean… I think there’s something going on with my Dad. I called home today and Mum was alone. Even though it was late evening in Malaysian time. I’m worried about them. I think something’s wrong.”
Chance’s face has the strangest expression. I suppose he’s imagining I might leave now and never come back again. I move towards him and take his face in my hands, kissing him softly. “I only need a few days,” I say. “Can you lend me the money for a flight? Please?”
He bites his lip. “If that’s what you really want.”
“Chance, it’s not the end of the world. I’ll miss you, I promise,” I say, trying to laugh. He’s acting as though I want to leave him forever.
“I’ll miss you too,” he says, with a smile I can tell he doesn’t mean. “Let me sort out that flight for you. Ever flown first class before?”
“I can’t pay you back for that,” I warn him. He rolls his eyes.
“You need to relax and let me take care of you, Zara. It’s all I’ve wanted to do for a very long time. Humour me.”
That night, we make love slowly, with a passionate intensity we haven’t reached before. It’s as if he’s desperate to touch every part of me, as if the thought of letting me go even for a few days is too much for him to bear. When he finishes inside me the look in his eyes is wild and wounded. An animal trapped in a corner, afraid of the hunter closing in with a knife. Ready to lash out to protect itself.
I can feel a barrier coming down between us. It’s enough to make me regret ever asking to go home. But I need to find out what’s happening with my parents, and I can’t let my feelings for Chance confuse me into neglecting my family. He’ll feel better about it when I come back home to him. It’s only for a short time.
He insists on driving me to the airport, even though he should be at work. That wounded expression hasn’t left his eyes. I wish I could find the words to reassure him that I’m coming back.
“If I told you I was dropping the investment with Martin King,” he says, when we stop in the airport carpark, “would that change anything?”
“What?” I fiddle with the handle of my suitcase. My mind’s already on the plane. A thousand miles up in the air and away from London, from Kelsey Technologies, even from Chance.
He reaches across and grips my hand. “Zara – if there was nothing to tell your father about Martin King and the development on Sarawak. Would you stay?”
It takes me a moment to understand him. When I finally realise what he’s saying, I feel sick. “I’m going home because I’m frightened, Chance. Something’s going on that my parents aren’t telling me.”
“And it came up the day you saw me meet with your father’s business rival?”
“My father has nothing to do with King’s business!”
“That’s not what he says.” Chance holds up his hands. “I’m not saying I believe him. It’s just… It’s quite the coincidence, Zara. I wish you’d stay here with me. I wish – I wish you’d start calling London your home now.”
“It is,” I insist. Though I know I’ve just told him my home’s in Malaysia. Can a person live like this? Spinning through the world from one place to another – never truly feeling at peace in any one place?
I wish I was like Mariam. Mariam loves Moon Beach. She’ll visit England, sure, but she’ll never make her home anywhere else.
Chance doesn’t understand it, I can tell. Right now I can’t find the words to explain. I kiss him, tasting the same hopelessness that I feel inside.
“This has got nothing to do with getting back at Martin King,” I tell him. “I’m not some kind of spy. I just need to drag my Dad out of his office and make him eat a few solid meals. That’s all. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Chance grabs hold of my shirt, taking a huge handful of the fabric, and pulls me in close to him so that I can feel his breath tingle on my lips as he speaks. “I’ll be waiting.”
As he drives away, leaving me standing in the carpark with nothing but a suitcase and a printed out boarding pass in my hand, my heart gives a nervous judder. I have the most awful sense of foreboding. I feel as though I’ve done something terrible to Chance. Something that will end up hurting him.
But I push my irrational fears aside and make my way into the airport. What else am I supposed to do?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Chance
I haven’t told James that Zara’s gone to Malaysia. He’s suspicious enough as it is.
It only takes one lonely night, tossing and turning in the cold sheets of my empty bed, for me to make a decision. One that will involve lying to my brother.
So I stop by his office the next morning.
“I’m thinking of flying out to Sarawak this weekend,” I say casually. It’s more of an effort than usual to maintain my customary cheer. Zara’s texted me to tell me she landed safely. No call yet. Every time I think about it my heart sinks a little further in my chest. But I can’t let James catch on to this.
He’s instantly on the alert. “Sarawak? Why?”
“I quite fancy having a look at this development Martin King’s proposing. You don’t need the jet for anything, do you?”
“No,” says James, frowning. He
taps the edge of his desk thoughtfully. “The property development that’s going to go through the middle of Adam Jacobs’s orangutan sanctuary?”
“Is that the one?” I smile. It’s unconvincing.
To my complete amazement, James breaks out into a grin. “I’m onto you!”
“You…are?”
“Zara doesn’t know about this, does she?”
“Not yet,” I admit.
James wags his finger at me. “I want it on the record that I think this is a very bad idea, Chance. You’re jumping the gun on this one. You’ve barely even got to know this girl again. It’s too soon.”
“James, I don’t have the first idea –”
“What makes you think Jacobs will even give you his blessing? I didn’t think he took to you the last time you met.”
Light dawns. “You think I’m planning to propose?”
“Why the hell else would you be flying out to Sarawak?” His eyebrows lower suspiciously. “Zara’s still in London, isn’t she? Because after she saw us meet with King –”
“Of course she is.” Little white lies. They don’t count, right? “Well, as long as you don’t need the jet, I’ll ask the pilot to plot me a flight path for this afternoon –”
“Sure, sure.” James rolls his eyes. I know he’s still not convinced about Zara, but at least he’s tactful enough to hold his tongue about my supposed upcoming engagement. “And if anyone asks, you’re meeting with Martin King’s agents about that property development. Got it. Oh, Chance…”
“Yes?”
“Good luck. I suppose. You’ll probably need it. I can’t say…” He stops himself. “Listen. I hope you’re happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
“Zara makes me happy,” I say. That, at least, I can be sincere about.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Zara
The Malaysian heat hits me like a solid wall the moment I step out of the plane. I can’t decide whether it’s prickly and uncomfortable, or a warm embrace that I never want to leave again.
Somewhere between the two. Home, and not home.
I take a taxi to my parents’ house. It’s dark and empty. Not a sign anyone’s lived here for days. I let myself in and stagger up to my room. The jetlag is much, much worse coming over this way. It doesn’t help that I was too anxious to get much sleep on the plane. It’s all I can do to type out a quick text to Chance before my head hits the pillow and I’m unconscious.
Time passes. I have no idea how much. I’m sleeping so deeply I might as well be dead. I rise out of a dark ocean of oblivion to find my mother standing over me. For a moment I think I must be dreaming. Then I wake up some more, and remember.
“Surprise,” I say, stretching sleepily. Mum’s hand goes to her mouth.
“Oh, Zara,” she says. “I almost wish you hadn’t come.”
She looks awful. Purple shadows stain the hollows under her eyes. Her face is grey and pinched with worry. I sit up. “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “There’s no point trying to hide it from you now. Come downstairs when you’re ready. Your Dad’s here.”
I’m still in the clothes I wore on the plane. None of the new things Chance bought me in London are suitable for the heat here. I open up my old wardrobe and select a black strap top and a pair of denim shorts. Then, full of nerves, I pad downstairs in bare feet.
My Dad’s sitting up at the kitchen table, slurping on a bowl of ramen. So my first impression is that it can’t be that bad.
Then he turns around to greet me and I see his face.
One eye is completely swollen shut, so bruised it’s almost black. Cuts and bruises have distorted his features until he’s almost unrecognisable. His lip is swollen up and split like a grape that’s been squeezed open. I cry out in horror before I can stop myself. Dad’s poor, beaten face twists into what I think is a smile.
“Hello, darling,” he says. “So you’ve come back? Sorry you’ve found me in this state.”
I run towards him and go to wrap him up in a hug, but Mum leaps in between us. “Cracked ribs,” she says quickly. “Don’t squeeze him.”
“Just give my arm a pat for now,” says Dad. His voice is rougher than usual, coarsened with pain, but he sounds as cheerful as always despite it. I kneel beside him and stroke his arm, tears forming in my eyes.
“Dad, what happened? Who did this to you?”
His good eye glances towards Mum. She sighs and throws up her hands. “There’s no point hiding it from her now, Adam. Go ahead and tell her the whole story.”
“There’s really not much to tell,” he says. “I was working late at the sanctuary. Everyone else had gone home. It’s got to be a habit of mine, so I suppose I was an easy target. Some men came and knocked at the door. I went to see what they wanted, and…”
“We’ve just got back from the hospital,” says Mum. “They kept him in for a few days. The police have been no help at all. No help whatsoever.” She blinks back angry tears.
“What did the men take?” I ask. “You don’t keep any money at work. What were they after?”
Dad shrugs. “They smashed up the filing cabinets. Knocked the place around a bit. Made a mess. Really I think they were just out to scare me.”
My fists clench. “Martin King,” I whisper. Dad’s startled.
“How do you know about him?”
“I met him in London. He recognised me – said something about you that made me worry. That’s why I came home. Dad, what’s his problem with you? Why would he want to hurt you?”
Dad shifts in his chair, grunting over the pain in his broken ribs. “Well, we can’t prove anything. Naturally. But he’s been trying to buy up the sanctuary’s patch of jungle for years now. And he doesn’t have a reputation for being a pleasant man to cross. When our orangutans started going missing, he was the first one we suspected. But there’s no proof, of course. And the police keep telling us, without proof, we’re just making wild accusations against a respectable foreign businessman.” He groans, rubbing one of the bruises on his chin. “Ha! Martin King. Respectable. Does this look respectable to you?”
I stand up slowly. An idea’s forming in my mind. “So he’s got men out poaching your orangutans?”
“The idea is – no orangutans, no protected jungle. Bulldoze the lot and build a fancy tourist complex.” Dad looks at me warily. “Don’t get anything into your head, girl. These are dangerous men. Men with guns. Look at the state of me – and this was just a warning.”
“I have a couple of contacts we could call on,” I say. “There’s always…” I swallow. I haven’t told my parents about Chance yet. As far as they know, he’s my ex-boyfriend from years and years back. Someone who dumped me when we were teenagers, and who I’ve barely thought about since. “Do you remember Chance Madison? He does business with Martin King. Perhaps he could –”
Dad interrupts me with a laugh that dissolves into a choking cough as he clutches his ribs. “What an idea. Get your head out of the clouds, Zara. Those big business types only care about where their next payload is coming from. Someone like your old friend Chance isn’t going to help us. Trust me on that.”
I press my lips together. He’s wrong, of course. But now isn’t the time to tell him.
I help Mum set up a bed for Dad on the sofa downstairs and settle him in with a heap of cushions and a steady supply of his favourite DVDs. Mum’s pleased to hear that the last time I saw Grandma she was doing well.
“It’s so good of you and Mariam to give up your time to care for her like this,” she says warmly. I feel a twinge of guilt. After Dad gave his opinion of Chance, I can’t quite find the words to tell her the level of care Grandma really needed when she got out of hospital – or who’s providing it.
When it reaches a reasonable hour in the UK, I excuse myself to my room and pull out the phone Chance has upgraded to an international calling plan. His phone goes straight to voicemail. I call it a few more times, then try James.
> “No, I’m not surprised he’s not picking up. He’ll still be on the…uh, he’s got a meeting,” he says. He always sounds cold when he speaks to me, but at least now he’s polite.
“Oh, ok. Could you ask him to call me when he’s done?”
James sighs, irritated. “Not really. He’s travelling…out of office… to meet with some of Martin King’s associates. Didn’t he tell you? I don’t know when he’ll be back but I doubt it’ll take long. He’ll probably call you soon.”
“Oh.” So much for dropping the investment. I fight to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “Thanks, James. I expect I’ll hear from him any minute. Have a nice day.”
I hang up before I hear him say goodbye.
Chance is still meeting with Martin King. The man who just had my father beaten until he was half dead.
Of course, Chance doesn’t know that. But he did tell me that he was dropping his investment in King’s business. Now…
Now I don’t know what to believe. Did he really think I was a spy?
I turn off my phone. Suddenly, I’m not interested in hearing what Chance has to say.
I need to deal with this on my own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Chance
I land in Sarawak airport feeling refreshed and ready to go. The bed in the private jet is just as comfortable as my own, and I’m inwardly calm knowing I’ll see Zara sooner than I hoped.
When I get out of the airport, though, I find that her phone is switched off. And my grand plans of surprising her immediately on my arrival are instantly dashed, as I have no idea where she lives. I could try the Snack Shack, but I doubt whichever surfer buddy of Mariam’s is manning the café has their home address. I decide to go straight to the North Sarawak Orangutan Sanctuary and try my luck there. Even though Adam Jacobs and I didn’t part on the best of terms.
It’s a long, low building with a thatched roof at the bottom of a lushly overgrown valley in the middle of the jungle. Huge overarching trees block out chunks of sky all around. I step over a waterfall of giant ants making their busy way across the entrance path on my way inside.
Taking His Own Page 15
