Thirteen (Love by Numbers Book 4) (20 page)

“I’m going into the kitchen to get some scissors so we can free your hands and feet; then I’m going to call the police.”

She nods and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I was scared, Lils.”

Her scratchy, almost pitiful voice all but tears me to shreds.

“I was so scared that he’d still be here when you got home. The awful things he said he’d do to you…”

“Hush, he’s not here. It’s just you and me.” I hold her even tighter, despair almost making me want to curl up in a ball alongside her.

“I’m so sorry this happened; I’m so sorry he did this to you because of me.”

She freezes in my arms and slowly pushes out of my hold. Her eyes lock with mine and the fury I see reflected in her dark brown orbs, catches my breath. “He didn’t do this because of you; he did this because of
him.
He’s a sick, twisted, piece of shit who was planning on doing far worse to you. This is not your fault. I’m glad he only found me.”

I stare at my sister; her strength overpowering her despair and I’m in awe of the love she can still hold for me. I kiss her forehead, then wrap her in another tight embrace, “Did he… did he hurt you or touch…?”

I hate having to ask her, but I need to know if he went that far, if he took away the one thing that is hers to give to whoever she chooses. The fact I’ve found her gagged and bound in just her bra and panties chills me to the core.

She shakes her head vigorously, “He threatened it plenty, but… no, he didn’t.”

I should feel relieved at her words, but the fact is this should never have happened, and I should never have had to ask.

“I love you big time.” I need her to know I will make this right.

The smile she gives me is small and laced with grief, “I love you long time.”

With one last kiss to her forehead, I awkwardly push up to stand and head towards the kitchen, flicking on the light and grabbing the cordless phone to dial nine-nine-nine.

I stay as calm as I can when I explain the emergency to the operator while pushing things around the floor of our destroyed kitchen on my hands and knees, trying to locate some scissors or a knife. Is there any part of our home that he didn’t desecrate? My hand catches on something sharp, and I hiss at the pain in my palm. Pushing away smashed dinnerware, I uncover a serrated knife and ignore the lick of pain flicking up my wrist from my hand or the trail of blood that runs from my fingertips. I have one focus and that’s to get back to Nicola and then open the door for the Police and emergency services as the operator has instructed.

The knife slips from my blood soaked hand and clatters to the floor on top of more smashed china. “Lilah, are you okay?” Nic calls from the living room, anguish evident in her voice.

“I’m fine; I’m coming.”

I hurriedly bend and pick up the knife, ploughing through the debris without thought of falling, just needing to get back to her.

“I just have to open the door for when the Police arrive, I’ll be quick, I promise,” I call into the living room, finally seeing clearly from the light spilling out from the kitchen, and holding back a gasp at the ruined state of our home. Seeing Nic vulnerable and broken, like a lost child in a sea of devastation makes my chest squeeze painfully. I have to scrunch my eyes shut to keep the tears that threaten to overflow, at bay.

I quickly open the door and leave it cracked a sliver, before making my way back to Nic as fast as my shaky limbs will carry me.

Splatters of blood from my sliced palm mark my way back, like macabre breadcrumbs in Hansel and Gretel’s forest. I pick my way through the debris a little faster this time, as the light from the kitchen aids my view. Within moments I’m sat next to Nicola and I carefully begin to saw the bindings from her wrists and ankles. The room is silent except for the harsh sound of the serrated knife, carving through the plastic ties.

When the final tie is cut and falling to the floor, I take both her hands in mine and inspect the deep welts on each wrist.

“I tried for hours to slip them off; he made them so tight that my hands became numb, and I spent a lot of time just wiggling my fingers to ease the pins and needles that accompanied the loss of circulation.”

We are both staring at her injured wrists when a deep male voice calls from the open doorway.

“Delilah and Nicola Tremere, it’s the paramedics and police, we’re on our way in.”

I startle and attempt to stand, but Nic pulls me back down to the floor. “Don’t leave me, Lils.”

Eyes that mirror mine in shape and colour stare back at me; fear, worry and even a little shame swim in their depths and every cell inside me feels her pain.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I pull her into my arms and lean back against the wall. We stay in our embrace as the numerous emergency service people begin to pour in, like ants surrounding a fallen piece of fruit from a tree.

I know they are here to help us, but their booted feet and bags of equipment only serve to remove the last remnants of home from our apartment.

Once this is over, I’ll take Nic away, and we’ll start again somewhere new. Somewhere untainted by
him.

Somewhere not touched by this nightmare, but first I intend to make him pay.

Revenge is a word that has never before entered my vocabulary, despite all that went on between Wayne and me. I believed that only weak people seek it while the strong find forgiveness or even the ability to ignore.

I have been contentedly ignorant; I thought that made me the better person and look what happened.

Now I intend to be weak.

Weak with the strength to make right his wrongs.

My weakness will bring him to his knees.

Fuck being the better person.

I
arrive at Lilah’s building a little before seven and notice nothing different, until I step into the foyer. It’s filled with security and Police officers.

“Sir, the building is closed to visitors, residents only due to an incident, so please vacate the premises.” A meaty hand lands on my shoulder and attempts to steer me out of the front doors.

“My girlfriend lives here; she’s expecting me. Call her please. I’m not leaving until she knows I’m here.” Knowing that Lilah is home alone and waiting for me means that I’m not willing to go quietly. Whatever has gone on here has nothing to do with us, and I’m not standing her up because of someone else’s drama.

“Call her yourself but you can do it outside the building. Like I said, it’s residents only until this incident has been resolved.”

He all but drags me from the foyer, and I meet the eyes of a few coppers on my way out, their stares warning me not to make a fuss.

“Alright, alright. You can put me down now. I get the message; I’ll just call her from out here. Thanks for your assistance.” My tone is equal parts annoyance and sarcasm, earning me the hairy eyeball from the security bloke until I’m safely away from the front doors.

I gently place the large brown bag full of food, that I picked up from a local deli, on the floor at my feet and lean against the wall to call Lilah. After a few rings, it goes straight to answerphone, so I hit redial. Still no answer. I look back at the bustle of activity behind the glass paned doors and fear wells deep in my gut. This cannot be anything to do with Lilah; she’s only just got home from the hospital. A flash of Wayne’s bitter and angry face pierces my brain and my stomach drops. I fumble with my phone, almost dropping it on the floor and hit redial again. This time an unfamiliar voice answers.

“Detective Anderson speaking, Lilah is unable to answer, but she knows you are calling and has asked for you to be admitted entry to the building. I’ll send someone down for you.”

What the fuck?

“Wh-what’s happened? Is Lilah okay?” I rush the words out in a jumble; my thoughts are a scattered, swirling mess with Lilah in the centre. What has that fucking prick done to her?

Silence.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on!” My panicked demand is met with more silence, and then the fucker hangs up the phone.

I kick over the bag at my feet and dart towards the entrance, only to get blocked, once again, by the same beefy bloke who removed me moments ago.

“Get the fuck out of my way. My girlfriend is in there, and it’ll take a few more fellas bigger than you to stop me from getting to her.”

I shoulder barge the man-mountain, and he doesn’t move an inch.

“You don’t want to do this tonight, sir. Trust me when I say, you
will not
be entering this building, and I won’t need any help to stop you.”

I step back and glare at the twat blocking my way. My hands curl into fists, and I’m a millisecond away from punching this fucker out. I’ll fight dirty if I have to, he will not stop me getting in there.

“He’s been granted access.” A female voice calls out from behind the gorilla in front of me. The gorilla doesn’t move.

“
Move,
fuckspud. Or I’ll be forced to move you myself.”

He raises an eyebrow at me, then shrugs and makes way for a petite blonde to squeeze past him. She extends her hand, her face taut, creating a severe look to her features.

“Harry Brown, I’m Detective Boyd. I’m here to escort you to Ms Tremere’s apartment.” I glance from her outstretched hand back to her face. “Is she okay? That’s all I want to know; I need to know that she’s not hurt.”

Her face softens for a moment, and her hesitation turns my blood to ice.

“I want to see her. Take me to her, please.”

I realise I’m begging, and right now I don’t care. If I don’t get to see my girl in the next few minutes, I’m going to blow a fucking gasket.

“Follow me.” She turns and walks back into the bustling foyer, with me hot on her tail. A quick glance over her shoulder is all I get until we reach the elevator. Once inside, her demeanour softens further.

“Harry,” she reaches over and places a gentle hand on my arm, “Delilah isn’t hurt, but there has been a break in and disturbance at her apartment and her sister has been through a very traumatic experience. I can’t tell you any more than that at the moment as the investigation is very much ongoing, but what I can say is that they are both going to need a lot of support right now. Their parents are also on their way, but Delilah was adamant that you be allowed up to see them.” Her hand squeezes my arm but her mask of professionalism reappears when the elevator reaches their floor and she removes her touch.

“Was it Wayne? Was it her ex-husband?”

I have to know what the deal is before I go in there, so I know how to help.

She steps out of the elevator and doesn’t wait for me to follow. Her answer is a cold, “I’m not at liberty to say, as I’ve already stated, the investigation is underway. Please let us do our job.”

Whatever has happened, I have no doubt that bastard has something to do with it. Her non-answer has just confirmed it.

I’m going to kill him.

Rage floods my system, and my muscles twitch with the urge to hurt someone, to do
something.
I can’t go in there like this. I need to shake this shit off until I can do something about it. No matter what I face when I walk through that door, my priority has to be Lilah and not the painful death of her ex.

Two police officers stand like sentries outside Lilah’s front door. One nods at Detective Boyd and opens the door for her to enter.