Page 374 of The Black Trilogy

I squeezed his good hand. “Of course.”

“Carla wants to go too. You’ll look after her?”

“I promise.”

Although I’d have to put on a brave face for everyone. I hated funerals.

And I hated the state of my home. As I wandered through downstairs, the damage was every bit as bad as I’d feared. The fire, hot and intense, had swept through several rooms before the sprinklers brought it under control. Although they’d done their job, the resulting trails of sooty water got everywhere. They’d dried into black streaks down the walls, the tears of a tortured abode. A macabre tribute to death.

The kitchen was worse, a mass of charred, splintered wood and chipped granite. Jagged bottles lay in the debris of the wine cooler, and the faint whiff of their contents permeated through the smoky atmosphere. The interior designer would have apoplexy when she saw it. Her jaw had dropped enough last time when I’d accidentally shot up the kitchen in my sleep.

Back then, there were bullet holes everywhere, and rather than tell the truth, I’d fibbed and said I woke up that morning and decided I simply couldn’t live with the décor anymore. She’d looked at me like I’d grown another head. Still, it was better than admitting I didn’t remember doing it.

Now there were craters in the walls upstairs and downstairs, blood on the carpet, blood on the furniture, and more holes in the dining table courtesy of Alex. In the downstairs hallway, I could tell someone had used a bigger gun than I did, because a mass of brain matter decorated the wall by the window. Alex and lucky visitor number thirteen? Thankfully I’d told Bradley to leave the place alone before I left for Colombia—he’d have flipped if he saw that.

I poked my head through the back door and found outside hadn’t escaped either. Carmen had made a mess with her sniper rifle, and although the rain was making quite an effort, brownish stains still decorated the path.

Boards covered the broken windows and the electricity was turned off, making my normally bright and airy house dark and gloomy. I sank down on the remains of the couch and drew my legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and resting my head on my knees.

“Why is everything such a great big mess?” I asked aloud.

Black’s voice came out of the darkness. I hadn’t even heard him come in—yet more evidence of my incompetence. “Because you had a great big gunfight, Diamond.”

He sat on the other end of the couch, perching on the edge as if he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to stay or go. A sliver of light from outside highlighted his face.

“I think that end’s still damp. And I wasn’t just talking about the house, Black. I was talking about us.”

“I know.” He sat back, staring into space, and let out a sigh.

We turned to each other and our eyes locked, briefly, before we both looked away.

“I screwed up,” we said in unison.

Our eyes met again. His showed surprise this time.

But I recovered first. “You screwed up? What are you on about?”

“I let my guard down and managed to get abducted. In a hotel, for crying out loud. Then I couldn’t find a way out. I put you through eight months of trouble. Nate said you didn’t cope very well.”

“I didn’t.” That was the understatement of the millennium. “But I should have. Instead of trying to find you, I accepted you were dead and lost the plot.”

“Emmy, the cops did a DNA test on a charred corpse. There was no reason either one of us should have suspected I had a twin brother.”

I gripped the edge of the couch, and it flaked in my hand. “But there were little inconsistencies. Looking back, I can see that now. I should have tried harder. And I hurt everyone else as well when I ran off without telling them where I was. Then when Luke helped me, I did nothing but lie to him.”

“Luke? Are we talking about the same Luke who’s in my kitchen? The one that’s dating Mack?”

“Yes.”

He raised one gorgeous eyebrow. “I’m confused.”

“I kind of had a thing with him for a couple of months.” It seemed like a decade ago now. “I came out of hiding when his sister got kidnapped and I needed the team’s help to find her. Two months I lived in his home, he gave me all of him, and I didn’t tell him so much as my real name. I couldn’t have got through that time without him. He was a rock. At least some good came out of this and he ended up meeting Mack. They’re good together.”

“When you were living with him, do you mean sleeping with him?”

“Yes.”

His eyes darkened then turned curious. “Doesn’t it feel odd now he’s with Mack?”

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