Page 225 of The Black Trilogy

And having Black next door meant he could deal with me if the worst happened. An interconnecting door, bolted from his side, would let him in to shoot me with a tranquilizer dart, Taser me, something. Anything. Anything to stop a repeat of last night.

He carried in a pile of towels and stowed them in my new bathroom, bigger than my old one but I didn’t deserve the extra space.

“That’s the last of it.”

“How do you cope?” I asked. “You must have seen things every bit as horrible as I have.”

“I block it out,” he answered softly. “If I didn’t I’d never sleep.”

“I wish I could. I try. While I’m awake it’s okay, mind over matter and all that, but the moment I close my eyes, the devil comes out to play.”

“Want me to see if I can find someone to help?”

“What, like a psychiatrist? How do you see that going? ‘So, Emerson, tell me about your day.’ ‘Well, I shot three people and that was fine, just an interesting technical challenge. But I could have done without getting lowered on a rope into a dark hole full of rotting corpses to check for survivors. That made me feel a bit queasy.’ They’d have me committed.”

“Point taken. Is that really what happened?”

“Yes. I was the smallest and lightest, so I got the pleasure of going down there, and no, there weren’t any survivors. Then I threw up over the side of the boat until there wasn’t anything left inside me. I was in good company though—everyone else on the team lost their lunch as well.”

“Well, if you need to talk things through, talk to me. I’ll always be here.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

My life might have been messed up in ways most people couldn’t even imagine, but at least I wasn’t alone in it.

I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to take Black up on his offer, that the awful night with Nick was a one-off, but little did I know. My sleep would remain on FUBAR status for years to come. Black was to become my sounding board, my confidante, my outlet for the horrors that threatened to consume me.

But back then, I was still blissfully ignorant, and I mustered up a smile when Nick came home later in the day, clutching X-rays that showed two cracked ribs and a broken nose but thankfully no cheek fracture.

“The hospital staff believed my story about getting into a bar fight.”

“Thanks for telling them that.”

He slung an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “It was less embarrassing than admitting a one-hundred-and-twenty-five-pound girl did it in her sleep. They probably wouldn’t have believed me if I’d told them that, anyway.”

“I’m so sorry, Nicky. I don’t know what came over me.”

He turned me to face him and put a hand on each of my shoulders. “It wasn’t your fault, baby. I heard you cry out, and when I tried to cuddle you, it triggered, well, something. You weren’t even there. I mean, your eyes were open but they were vacant. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Nick may have forgiven my actions, but I struggled to cope with them myself. Space. I needed space. Some time away to process things in my own head. So I ran. I flew to London under the pretence of building up business at the new office and spent a month speaking to clients and helping with paperwork.

At night, I stayed in Albany House, but I trained each morning with Jimmy. Whenever a job came up, I foisted it onto someone else. Although I had Ruth on hand to cook for me, I joined Jimmy and Jackie for dinner whenever I had a free evening, mucking in with the washing up and getting in the way. Like in the old days, JJ’s became my sanctuary, except without the cleaning or the stripping parts.

Even though I’d been away from the East End for a while, Jimmy acted as if I’d only been gone overnight. I was beyond lucky to have him in my life. And I wanted to repay the kindness he’d shown me over the years, so one day, I borrowed the folder where he kept his important documents, visited his bank manager, and paid off the mortgage on the gym.

I felt quite pleased with myself until he found out.

“Amanda, you can’t just give us your money. You worked hard for that.”

“Yes, I can. I can do whatever I want with it.”

“Then I’ll repay it. I don’t like being in debt.”

“I’ll tear up the cheque.”

“I’ll write it anyway.”

“He’s a proud man,” Jackie said after Jimmy left the room. “He doesn’t want to take charity.”

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