Page 68 of The Fallen
“Correct,” I confirm. I won’t let anything happen to Stefan, and I’ll undoubtedly walk away from Landon if he tries. He can’t blackmail and threaten all his life. Otherwise, he’s no better than Lewis.
“Then I suppose I'll have to hope Locke will still work for me without the coercion.” I can see him working his jaw. “And that he learns how to fucking behave appropriately.”
For the first time today, a smile twitches my lips at his response. For Landon, he just gave a mile. And I have to think that with this whole situation, starting with Seffi and Scott, then Ivy being kidnapped, Father, and finally Lewis, Noah, and the explosion, that maybe he’s learning the value of family.
Maybe there’s hope for us after all.
Chapter Twenty Five
NOAH
If there’s one place I don’t enjoy being, it’s this one. Doesn’t matter which location it's in or what the purpose of the visit is, hospitals are nothing but a breeding ground for disease.
“Mr Locke, it really isn’t advisable for you to leave yet.” I don’t give a fuck if it is or not. I’m going the moment this bitch of a doctor leaves the room. I’ve been here too long already as far as I’m concerned. One overnight stay is fine. I’m not doing another. “You’ll need at least a few days more evaluation before we can discharge you.” I glare at the woman and try getting my body upright. Hurts like fuck, but that’s not stopping me any time soon. “Please, Mr Locke.”
“Get out.”
“I appreciate you’re not happy being here, but you were shot, Mr Locke, and-”
“I said, get out.” Whole fucking place smells like death and disinfectant. Can’t stand another minute of it, and talking nicely to people is not something I’m capable of at the moment. “Or I’ll make you.” Her eyes widen. Good. She should be ready for that kind of threat turning real.
“Perhaps I’ll come back after your evening meal, Mr Locke,” she says quietly. “When you’ve calmed down.” Unlikely I’m eating anything else from this place. The shit they called lunch earlier was barely edible.
I don’t answer. I just watch her walk out with her fucking white coat and stupid expensive voice. Reminds me of another load of pretentious dicks, the same lot that I got myself shot for. Still, I guess there was a point to that. She’s alive as far as I know. Breathing and safe. Looks like my fucking heroics did some good. Not that I’m sure she deserved that help after the choice she made. Couldn't stop myself, though.
Looking at the bag of my clothes over on the chair, I shuffle myself over until I’m on the edge of the bed and drop my feet to the floor. Interesting that there was a Mrs Locke here at some point. Especially considering I’m not married and my own mother wasn't either. Gotta assume it was Neve.
Can't get the look of her tears out of my mind since I've been here. Probably just felt guilty. She’s got experience with that. Doesn’t need to feel it this time, though. I did what I did. For her, I guess I’d do it again.
The door opens just as I’m about to start moving
“Good day, Mr Locke. My name is DCI Jenkins. I’m glad to see you’re up and well.”
I glare and try walking. Painful, but doable. “No comment.”
I pull out my jeans and top, not bothering with the underwear, and start shrugging into them. Fucker doesn’t even turn round while I’m trying to get dressed. Just stands there looking at me.
“I have some preliminary questions about the situation at Tallington Hall,” he says.
The black t-shirt goes over my head, and then I realise there’s still a fucking hole in it from the bullet I took for her. “No comment.”
I look at the hoodie lying there, all covered in my dried blood. Never done that for anyone before her. Wouldn't have even considered it useful. Where the fuck is my leather jacket?
“You’re free to have your clothes back,” he says. “We don't need them.” Stupid fucking statement.
“Pretty fucking obvious, considering they’re here.”
“Yes, well, I just wanted to talk with you about the incident that killed Lewis Davis in the middle of your skirmish.” I look up at him and frown, wondering what he thinks he’s going to get out of me now. “Landon Broderick has admitted to being the one who pulled the trigger. You’re not in any trouble. And we're confident that the ballistics from the bullet taken out of you will show it was Mr Davis who shot you. There are plenty of witnesses. We’re still working on detailing the findings from the bomb unit.” Bomb?
I look up at him, frowning. “What bomb?”
“The explosion took out most of the formal lounge in the east wing. We believe you were out cold at that point.”
Must have been. Don’t remember any bombs. “Everyone alright?”
“Yes. And again, you’re not in any trouble about that either.”
I sit and start putting my boots on, not giving one fuck if I’m in trouble or not. I’ll disappear before he even manages to try charging me with something. It’s what I’m good at.
