‘If it helps, I think he looked fit to cry himself,’ says my rescuer.
My head just keeps shaking, as if I can magic it all away, pretend it isn’t true.
Only, it is true.
And there’s no explanation he can give that will take away the reality that he’s being paid by Philip to dish the dirt on me. And, boy, have I given him plenty.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I LOOK UP at the hospital entrance across the road, my hands thrust in my pockets. It’s been a week since I was last here, my world in tatters at my feet as I was forced to walk away.
Not a second has gone by without me thinking of her; even my dreams tease me with a mixture of reality and fantasy, happy and sad. But I can’t take it any more.
I know her grandmother has recovered enough to be admitted to a ward and is making good progress. She may even get to go back home. I’ve gleaned all this by getting hold of her friend Grace’s number. I haven’t used my network of contacts and I certainly haven’t gone to Philip. My life as a PI is over, my taste for it ruined by my thoughtless prejudice, epic misjudgement and the devastating consequences it has had on the one person I have come to love so much that every second without her physically hurts.
And that’s why I’m here—to tell her. To be honest, to bare my soul if I have to—it’s all I have left to give, if she lets me get that far.
I watch the doors—watch the people milling in and out, the smokers who look like they’re at death’s door, getting another fix, the friends and relatives taking a patient out for a stroll—and then I see her, her blonde bob dancing as she walks, head down, her eyes on her phone, focused and not breaking step.
A quick flick of the eyes up to check the road is clear and then she’s crossing it, a few strides down from me. I try to call out and my voice is stuck, nerves closing my throat over. I start after her as a vehicle comes tearing around the corner, speeding for the entrance, just as she steps off the pavement.
‘Coco!’ I grab her arm and pull her up against me as the vehicle screeches to a halt, doors flying open, people shouting. But it’s all tuned out as I lose myself in those green eyes that I’ve m
issed so goddamn much. ‘You shouldn’t walk and text.’
She shrugs her arm out of my hold. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
I swallow, my hand falling helplessly to my side. ‘Please...can we talk?’
I know she wants to deny me; I can see it in her narrowed gaze, the hard set of her jaw. But then she turns and starts to make for the car park.
‘You’ve got until I get to my car.’
I let go of a trapped breath and fall into step beside her. ‘I meant over coffee...somewhere more private.’
She laughs, harsh and loud. ‘What? So you can try to seduce your way into my trust like you did before? Tell me, Ash, how many unsuspecting souls have you seduced to get the information you need?’
I pale under the assault of her words...at how low she thinks I’ll sink. ‘I’ve never slept with a target before.’
‘A target?’ She repeats it thoughtfully, derisive. ‘So that’s what I am?’
‘No, not you—not now.’
‘Oh, wow—lucky for me.’
Her voice is so high-pitched, so angry, and she picks up her pace, her fingers trembling as she rakes them through her hair and clutches her bag tighter over her shoulder.
‘How long were you following me?’
I shake my head, not wanting to tell her but knowing I have to. ‘I don’t know...a few weeks.’
‘Every day?’
‘Most days.’
‘The charity galas, lunch dates, hospital visits, shopping trips? There you were, in the shadows?’
She shudders and it resonates down my spine like a chilling trickle. This is going badly—worse than even my garbled imaginings.