Page 373 of The Black Trilogy

When Black skewered him with his gaze, Luke wished he hadn’t opened his mouth.

“Emmy’s not happy. She’s just pretending to be happy because she knows everyone expects her to be. No, she’s not right at all. Where is she, anyway?”

Black scanned the room, and Luke realised Emmy wasn’t with them anymore. People around him shrugged. Nobody knew where she’d gone.

“Track her phone,” Black ordered. “Assuming she’s picked up a spare since the last one got trashed at the hospital.”

Nate fiddled with an app on his own handset. “According to this, her yellow phone’s in her house, somewhere around the lounge. The green one’s turned off.”

Black sighed, a heavy sound that settled over the room. The air turned viscous, and the volume of chatter dropped a notch further.

“It’s time to talk some sense into my crazy wife.”

The crowd parted, and he stalked off in the direction of the basement.

CHAPTER 27

I FELT SURPLUS to requirements as everyone swarmed around Black, asking questions. Things were still tense between us, and guilt weighed on my shoulders as if Hercules himself was pushing down on them. Why hadn’t I put the pieces together sooner?

Like when the initial warning call came in on my red phone? Hector or Diego must have got my number out of Black’s. Why hadn’t I questioned that? And while I was messing around chasing Carlos’s murderers on a motorbike, Black’s abductors had used the chaos to sneak him out of the hotel. If I’d asked more questions at the time, I might have found a witness.

But I didn’t.

Then, after all the mess with Luke and his half-brother, why hadn’t something fired off in my brain? If my synapses had bothered to do their job, maybe the possibility of Black having an unknown sibling would have occurred to me, even if the odds of it were worse than beating the house in Vegas.

Two men. Two unknown brothers.

Hadn’t Black taught me that anything was possible? That I should look at problems from every angle?

I laughed softly to myself. What if I had a sister out there? I might have. Especially as my father was most likely an idiot. Or a cousin? Or a— Stop it, Emmy.

No, I hadn’t thought things through with Black. And I should have. Instead, I’d fallen victim to my own feelings and wallowed in self-pity like a selfish little cow.

How could he ever forgive me for what I’d done when I couldn’t forgive myself?

Dan laughed, and Nate popped the cork on the first bottle of champagne. Not to be outdone, Bradley lugged in a box of indoor fireworks and an entire vineyard. The atmosphere crackled with happiness, and excitement, and…freaking glitter. Oh, Bradley. My eyes cut to the window. Fat drops of rain plopped against it, the grey sky matching my mood.

I melted out of the room and made my way to the basement. The dusty cabinet slid to the side on hidden runners, and I slipped through the door behind, the darkness calling me. My footsteps echoed off the concrete as I walked and then ran through the tunnel.

When I emerged at the other end, scattered pizza boxes still lay on the table, the movie room untouched since the night Diego’s men attacked. I didn’t want to see the awful state I knew the rest of the place would be in. I’d designed and built that house from scratch, and although I kept telling myself that it was only stuff, and it could all be replaced, I still choked when I looked at the wreckage.

I’d needed to get out of the kitchen at Riverley Hall, though. It was easier to deal with the ruins of my home than the ruins of what I’d once had with Black.

Instead of dwelling on the past, I forced myself to think of something positive. While the doctor had been assessing Dan’s leg earlier, I’d visited Seth in the specialist burns unit, and he’d improved markedly since I last saw him. Tomorrow, the doctors planned to undertake an experimental procedure with artificial skin grafts, and the medical team were hopeful he’d make a good recovery. Even better was the news he didn’t have any internal damage.

“Good thing I fell down that hole, wasn’t it?” he said.

“These things are relative, but yes.”

“And you got the men who did it?”

I nodded.

“Saves Justin a job. Carla hasn’t been able to get him out of that Batman costume.”

“There are worse things he could be.”

“You’re right.” He paused to cough, then his tone grew serious. “Mick’s funeral’s in ten days. Will you go? Reckon I’ll still be stuck in here.”

---