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“She’s my mum, Xeno,” I reply firmly. “If Lena has to live the rest of her life remembering what my mum looks like in death, then so will I. She won’t go through that alone.”
Xeno’s eyes flick with sorrow but he nods, stepping aside.
Beast and the man I know now to be Gray are crouching over the prone form of my mum talking quietly. “This isn’t an—” Beast says, his sentence cut short when he notices me. I watch as he lowers my mum’s eyelids, shutting them so I don’t see her blank staring eyes.
I swallow hard, pain swelling in my chest as I look at her. Apart from the discoloration around her lips, she looks peaceful. In death she looks healthier than I ever remember her looking in life, and something about that makes a sob rise up my chest. Pressing a hand over my mouth, I drop to the floor and run my shaking fingers over her cheek. She’s cold.
“I’m sorry, Pen,” Beast says, his voice gruff.
“She wasn’t a good mum. At least not to me,” I reply automatically, my voice void of emotion as I rip my hand back. I know it’s not the right thing to say given the circumstances, but the words just fall from my lips regardless. I hate myself for them; for the bitterness, pain and lack of empathy they hold.
“What did she take?” I ask after a few minutes, dragging my gaze upwards to look over at Beast. He doesn’t answer straight away, instead he glances at Xeno who’s crouching beside me.
“Tell her,” York says, stepping into the room with Zayn. Both look troubled.
“Tell me what?”
“This isn’t an overdose, Pen,” Beast says, looking at me carefully.
“What? How do you know that?”
“Look around you, there’s no drug paraphernalia, no empty bottles of alcohol to wash the pills down with. Nothing here suggests your mum has taken something to get high or even to kill herself.”
I look about the room, taking in how spotless it looks. There isn’t even the usual smell of cigarette smoke or any ashtrays filled with cigarette stubs, let alone what I’ve been used to seeing when I’ve found my mum passed out on numerous occasions over the years. Beast’s right, she hasn’t gone on a bender or tried to kill herself. My stomach churns and I swallow hard.
“Tell me,” I demand.
Beast swipes a hand over his face, then points at the purple-blue tinge around her mouth. “This is from lack of oxygen,” he says, then lowers the material of her turtleneck jumper. “She was strangled, Pen.”
I see the finger shaped bruises around her throat, and I retch, reaching for the wastepaper bin tucked by the end of the sofa. When I’ve finished emptying my stomach, I look back up at Beast, wiping my sleeve across my mouth. “Please don’t tell me that you’re suggesting Lena…”
“No, of course not!” he exclaims, then turns to Gray who hands him a slip of paper. “This wasn’t Lena, Pen. Gray said she returned home only a few minutes before she called you. Your mum has been dead for at least an hour, maybe a while longer. She was murdered whilst Lena was out of the house. It’s why my men didn’t pick anything up. They haven’t been watching over your mum. I’m sorry.”
With shaking fingers, I take the piece of paper from Beast and read the words scrawled in black ink across the surface.
Eenie, meenie, miney, mo....Who’s next, Penelope?
I look up, my heart thundering in my chest. There’s only one person who knows the terror that line fills me with.
David.
He’s back...
