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“Get Andrew and Tim here now. I want to know what happened in the surveillance room.”
He pages Andrew and Tim, then turns to me. “I’ll send out Khaled’s team for a quick search, Boss.” When I don’t respond, he goes on. “We will find her. There is no way she could have got far on foot.”
“Do you realize it’s minus two degrees out there?” I ask quietly. I am insanely calm. Usually, my temper is hair trigger and at the least provocation I will blow a gasket and unleash hell on everyone around me. I don’t know why I am calm. I might be in shock. I can’t believe she slipped through my fingers.
Mark looks at me strangely as if he can’t quite believe his eyes. He is saved from answering my rhetorical question when Andrew and Tim come barreling into the room. I turn towards them as they stand there, their mouths slightly agape as they pant.
“Where were you both?” I demand.
“Mrs. Parks invited us for Lancashire Hotpot,” Tim mutters defensively, his eyes sliding to the ground.
I instantly understand what happened. “Go on. Get out of here all of you and find her,” I order, “or there’ll be hell to pay.”
“I’ll go too, and see what I can do,” Mark mumbles uncomfortably and exits the room after them. I exhale slowly. Then I lift my hand and smash my fist on the coffee table. It cracks with a loud noise as white pain shoots up my arm. I am glad for the throbbing injury. My little bird flew away. If anything at all has happened to her ...
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Park whispers. “She said she had grown up in the country and knew how to take care of herself.”
I take a deep breath and turn to face the window. It has started snowing. My mind feels crystal clear. It is a good thing. It means the temperature has gone up to zero degrees and she will start leaving tracks. Also the snow is falling fast and deep and the roads will soon become unpassable, so no one will be able to take her out to the village.
Running down the stairs I snatch my coat from the rack and sprint out of the house leaving the front door wide open. I can see the tracks my men have left as they scattered in different directions. I run around the side of the house as soon as I reach the area that is almost a straight path to the farmhouse. I start running towards it while letting my eyes sweep either side of me. I do not use the torch on my phone because I know if I do my eyes will only see inside the narrow band of its light. This way my eyes will slowly train themselves to see in the dark. The farmhouse is actually a lot further away than it looks from the house.
I run to the edge of my land and see nothing at all. No bits of clothing caught in brambles. Only a flat white landscape. Its beauty hides an uncaring heart. I stop to think. All her tracks have been covered by the snow, and I have not yet reached any fresh tracks. I know I am going in the right direction, but what if she got lost in the dark? I stop and rethink my strategy. I run to the stables and saddle Ramses. He is a shining black beauty. It was Jake Eden who got me interested in horses. He was such an impressive horseman. I wanted to be better than him.
“Let’s go,” I say, and Ramses takes off into the night as if on wings.
Cold air rushes past my ears. My plan is to move in a crisscross movement towards the farmhouse. That way even if she went off course, I’ll find her. Hot vapor billows out of Ramses’s nostrils as he thunders over the hard ground. I pull on the reins hard and he comes to a juddering stop. I jump off him. A wisp of cloth sticking out of the snow. I fish it out. There is fresh blood on it. The horror is indescribable. I leap back on the saddle and keep my pace steady as I work my way over the land. Then I see it. The small dark shape on the ground.
I dig my heels in and make for it. My heart feels like it is going to burst out of my chest. She is lying face up and not moving. Snow has started to lay even on her face. I slide off Ramses and crouch next to her. Jesus, her lips are already turning blue.
She is as still as death as I run my hands down her face then her body. I find the source of the blood quickly. A tear in her arm. Not serious. The blood is already clotting. I press my fingers to her pulse. It is faint, but it is there. Inside me something collapses from sheer relief. Under her head I find a swelling as big as a pigeon’s egg. She must have fallen and knocked herself out. I take off my jacket and wrap it around her frame.
I lift her into my arms, and as gently as I can lay her over Ramses. In the distance I can see the men’s torchlights going further away from the house. Big flakes of snow fall steadily on us as I get on the horse and carefully transfer her into my arms. She doesn’t make a sound and that terrifies me.
I turn Ramses towards the house and prompt him to a gallop. I am in a race against my entire world collapsing at my very feet. As my trusty stallion flies us home I feel hot blinding tears fill my eyes. They roll down my face and I am powerless to stop them.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Liliana
I awaken in an unfamiliar room.
Over my face is an oxygen mask, and as I turn my head slowly to the side I see that an IV drip has been attached to my arm and I’m wearing what looks like a hospital gown. My mind feels foggy, and it takes a few moments for me to recall with decent clarity what happened.
Yes, I was running away.
To look for my father. All I could think about was him even as I became colder and colder and began to lose my sense of direction in the pitch black. I could have been running in circles. The lights of the farmhouse that I had been so sure was in the direction I was travelling in never materialized. I recall stumbling on a piece of jutting rock and falling, crying out ‘Daddy’ at the sharp excruciating pain at the back of my head … then the world faded into blessed blackness.
Does this mean I was rescued?
Some part of me cries out with sorrow at the thought, but another part of me galvanizes into action. I need to get to my dad. With my good hand I remove the mask from my face. The grief I feel gives me some sort of strength to sit up. It is then that I hear the low sound of the television on, and the mention of my family’s name. I turn to it and with widened eyes begin to watch the report of my father’s accident. Blinking my tears away I listen even more closely and almost collapse back in relief when I see that he is all right.
I need no further motivation. I pull the IV out and holding onto the bed, I try to stand, but there is no strength in my legs and my body feels as heavy as lead. Letting my body drop to the floor, I crawl towards the wall, lift myself up, and lean against it.
With the wall as my support, I take careful steps out of the room.
It must be the dead of night because the corridor is completely empty of staff or patients. I’d hoped to meet someone who I could have begged to take a message for me, but never mind. My legs were already feeling a lot stronger and I just had to keep going until I could find a door or elevator. After what seems like a lifetime I reach a set of elevator doors. I press the button and, barely able to breathe, wait for it.
It dings open and my gaze clashes with Brand’s chilling eyes. He looks as if he’s just seen a ghost and I’m so startled I lose the careful concentration that had kept me up and I fall backwards, landing on my butt. Jarring pain comes from everywhere. I feel broken in a thousand different ways.
“Jesus Christ,” he growls, taking a step towards me.
I begin to crawl backwards on my hands. I open my mouth to tell him to stay away, but I am barely able to sound the words. His polished black shoes stop next to me. I freeze. Crouching down, he hooks his hands under my knees and my back and scoops me into his strong arms. Silently, he carries me back through the corridor I’d just come through. I try not let my head rest against his chest even though every nerve ending in my body is begging me to.
“We are not in a hospital?” I whisper.
He frowns. “No. Why would you think that?”
“Why don’t you let me go, Brand?” I ask restlessly. My skin feels hot and feverish and I can’t look him in the eye.
He ignores my question.
“That’s the best way for you to stay alive,” I ramble on. “If you keep me here much longer my father will find me, then there will truly be nowhere for you to hide.”
He smiles cruelly. “How amusing? You think I should fear that old, toothless lion. He has been out of the business for twenty years now. This turf is mine. I am the new king. I have just as much power if not more than he wielded in his heyday.”
He enters the room where I had woken up and I say. “You can put me down here. I need to go to the toilet.”
Instead of setting me on the ground he carries me into the bathroom. Gently he seats me on the toilet.
“You can go now. I can manage on my own,” I say tightly.
“The time for modesty is past,” he mocks.
“I can’t do it with you watching,” I lash angrily.
He sighs and turns his back.
“After I have emptied my bladder, he runs a washcloth under the tap. Then he crouches next to me and to my complete shock he wipes me gently with the warm washcloth.
“Why are you doing this? You’ve already had me. Your revenge is complete. Why do you want me here when you hate me?”
