Page 69 of The Black Trilogy

“Everything hurts,” she mumbled.

He leaned over and squeezed her good hand. “You’ll be okay.”

While Luke went to the hospital with Tia, I rode Majesty back to Hazelwood Farm by the light of the moon. Stars twinkled overhead in the clear sky, and with the light reflecting off the snow, it never truly got dark. So peaceful, so serene. As Majesty strode forward, ears pricked, I was reminded that despite the evil in the world, it could still be a beautiful place.

The vet waved from his Land Rover as we walked up the drive, and back in the barn, I was relieved to see Gameela happily munching her hay with her legs bandaged.

Majesty nosed at my pockets as I put him to bed, and I pinched a handful of Marianne’s carrots.

“Good boy. You mostly redeemed yourself today.”

His biggest crimes were being smart and being bored. Somebody needed to take him for the long rides he enjoyed and tire him out, then he’d behave better.

Now, where was Luke? He didn’t answer when I called, so I cycled home, dodging cars in the dark. Made a change from bullets. Luke wasn’t there, so despite my hatred of hospitals, I hopped in a cab to go and lend some moral support.

As the car got closer, the knot in my stomach grew tighter. Over the years, I’d spent too many hours in the emergency room, most of them because someone was hurt or dying, and I couldn’t stand the feeling of helplessness that came with waiting. Sitting around made me feel useless. I much preferred to be out doing something constructive. Or destructive, depending on which was more appropriate.

I found Luke slumped in a chair, staring into space, and I perched on the edge of an adjacent seat. The black circles under his eyes showed how much the day had taken out of him.

“How’s Tia?”

“In surgery. She’s got a displaced fracture, and the doctor wanted to repair it straight away.”

“At least then she can start recovering.”

He rubbed his temples and sighed. “Mother lost the plot, and they had to sedate her.”

“Do you want to go and sit with her? I can stay here and wait for news on Tia.”

“Sitting with my mother is the last thing I want to do. Besides, she’s still sleeping.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

He nodded. “The world always has to revolve around her, and I’m tired of it. She behaves like this all the time.”

“It feels wrong, doesn’t it? That you have to be the adult while she acts like a child?”

“Between her and Tia… Everyone thinks I’ve got this perfect life, and yes, I’ve got money. But the old saying’s true. It doesn’t buy happiness.”

Yeah. It bought big houses and cars and yachts and diamonds and even a flipping jet, but without my husband by my side, I might as well live in a shack.

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Luke slumped down in his chair, while I stared at the wall opposite and got lost in my thoughts.

The last time I sat in a hospital like this was on that day. My husband had died at the scene, but the medical staff were trying to save one of the men who’d killed him.

Why was I there? Why did I want that murderer to live?

Firstly, because he was hired help—I’d worked that much out—and I wanted to ask him nicely who’d paid for the hit. Secondly, because I wanted the pleasure of peeling his skin off, piece by tiny piece.

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. I’d repeated the mantra over and over, wedged between Nick and Dan, until the doctor came out in bloodstained scrubs to tell us the murdering scum hadn’t made it.

But it was better news for Tia. Three hours later, a smiling nurse told us we could go in and sit with her. Hooray

“You want to go in alone?” I asked Luke.

An appropriate answer would have been “yes,” but he pulled me into the room alongside him. At least Tia was still unconscious. I much preferred her that way.

---