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‘Don’t you say it,’ I warn, stepping back, reading his mind too clearly. ‘Don’t you dare, Becker Hunt.’

‘This is why I’m better off alone, Eleanor.’

‘Shhhh!’ I slam my finger over my lips, my sexy shush not so sexy, more psychotic. I’m shaking my head, too, giving myself a headache. ‘No,’ I affirm.

His eyes drop to the gravel, and his head goes limp, his chin hitting his chest. ‘Fucking hell,’ he curses quietly. Then his arm comes out and he points to the car, keeping his eyes down. ‘Get in.’

I do as I’m told immediately, afraid to push his buttons. I’m not stupid. As I slip into the car and get comfortable, I reluctantly accept that Brent isn’t going to let go. And I accept that despite grasping the gravity of it all, I’ve underestimated Becker’s enemy. How could I have been so stupid?

I get the feeling that the war has only just begun.Chapter 35Back at The Haven after dropping Lucy and Mark home, the need for safety and security is once again dominating me as Becker collects me from the car. ‘I need to check on Gramps,’ he says, turning a kiss onto my forehead. ‘See you upstairs?’

‘I’ll be in the kitchen,’ I tell him. ‘I need some water.’

‘Okay.’ He heads for his granddad’s suite and I make my way to the kitchen.

As soon as I open the door, I’m ambushed by a very excitable Winston. ‘You should be asleep,’ I say, indulging his demand for attention for a few moments before throwing my purse onto the worktop and making my way to the fridge to get some water. But Winston’s high-pitched whine pulls me to a stop, and I glance back to see him circling by the kitchen door. ‘You need a wee?’ I ask, as he continues chasing his tail. Desperately, by the looks of things. I kick my shoes off and rush for the door, hearing my phone ringing as I do. ‘Damn.’ I divert quickly and grab it from my purse, before I make my way to the courtyard, seeing Lucy’s number on the screen. ‘Hey,’ I say as I weave through the Grand Hall.

‘Eleanor’, Lucy says, sounding urgent.

‘Everything okay?’ I carry on my way when Winston starts with the circling again. Pushing the doors into the courtyard open, I’m immediately hit with the cold night-time air. I shiver and Winston bolts past my legs, his nose hitting the floor in search of a suitable place to pee. I perch on the side of the fountain as I watch him cock his leg, his body visibly shaking as he relieves himself.

‘Yeah, fine. We thought we’d catch a bit of TV before hitting the sack,’ she says, and I frown for two reasons. One, because Winston is still peeing like a cart horse, and two, because Lucy can’t have called me just to tell me that.

‘Right . . .’ The word streams out over a few seconds.

‘And what do we see?’

Is that a genuine question? ‘I don’t know, what do you see?’

‘The fucking ruby!’

‘Oh,’ I laugh. ‘So it made the news?’

‘Because it’s been fucking stolen.’

I’m on my feet in a heartbeat ‘What?’

‘Stolen, Eleanor.’

My mind just officially exploded, scattering flashbacks of my evening everywhere – the blackout, the ruby, the chaos as Becker hauled me out of Countryscape. ‘And it’s on the news?’

‘Yes! We were there on the night of a heist that’s going to go down in fucking history.’ Lucy sounds almost star-struck, while I’m just . . . struck.

‘Wow.’

‘Wow? Is that all you’ve got to say?’ She sighs. ‘Fine, Mark and I will be excited alone. Speak later.’

The line goes dead, and I remain unmoving, my phone suspended at my ear, as my mind goes into overdrive. ‘Stolen?’ I ask myself, seeing the two big fellows flanking the cabinet, plus all the cameras dotted around Countryscape. It would be impossible. I start laughing at the absurdity, then I sharply stop. Stolen. I begin to circle on the spot as my phone drops slowly to my side, my eyes taking in the perfection of Becker’s sanctuary. The pure, peaceful place that’s now my home. The place that harbours so many secrets. I should be tracking Becker down and sharing this mammoth news. I should be running to find him. But something is telling me that this won’t be news to him. Something too loud to ignore. And this time, I know it can’t be Brent.

My muscles come to life and lead me out of the courtyard, Winston hot on my heels. I’m on a mission and though my body seems perfectly set on where it’s heading, my head isn’t quite keeping up. My thoughts are a mish-mash of . . . all kinds of wild things. Unbelievable things.

Weaving through the stock of the Grand Hall, I let myself into the main hub of The Haven and I’m at the library a few seconds later. Winston goes to make himself comfortable on one of the chesterfield couches, and I go straight to the bookshelf that’s been a source of fascination since I discovered the secret compartment.

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