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“I’ve got a hit,” Jack announced suddenly. The tension in the room snapped like an elastic band, and we all crowded around his chair.
“What have you got?” West asked, leaning in.
“Sightings on a camera—at least, I think it’s her—at an apartment block. Very nice apartments. Here.” He brought it up on the screen, and the camera revealed a section of the hallway. A young woman dressed in scruffy clothes with long, dark hair soaked through came down the hall underneath the camera. I couldn’t make out her face properly at first with her being too far away, but then as she got closer, she bent her head, allowing her wet hair to fall forward over her face. She headed down the hallway and stopped at one of the doors.
I leaned forward, frowning. “Jack, what street is this? The building looks familiar.”
“It’s Mornington Gardens in Chelsea.”
I slapped the table in triumph. “That’s Tory, I know it is. That’s Hattie’s apartment. It must be her. She’s the only other one who would know the code to let herself in.”
I looked up at West, anger and blame forgotten for the moment with the excitement of finally finding a lead. “We need to go.”
West nodded.
“Maybe not all of us,” Wesley suggested. “We don’t want to overwhelm her. Maybe just a couple of us.”
West nodded slowly. I could tell he wanted to go. I saw the desperation in his eyes to make sure she was okay. I didn’t know how he managed to fool himself that he didn’t feel what he did for her, but he succeeded incredibly well. He looked over at me. “You should go, you’re the one who’s betrayed her the least.”
I nodded. Good, it was finally starting to sink in that he’d failed her. “Fine. Okay. But I’m taking Zayn too.”
Zayn looked up at me, and for a moment, our eyes met. There was irritation in his expression, but I didn’t care.
“If there’s anyone else tracking her, I’d feel better having somebody more physically adept with me.”
Zayn nodded, his gaze dropping from mine as he stood. “I’ll get my stuff,” he said and left the room.
Jack looked at me with a knowing glance. “Don’t get distracted. We need to bring her home. She’s the priority.”
I fixed him with a dark look. “Always,” I replied and followed Zayn out of the room.
The drive over to Hattie’s was uncomfortable to say the least. It was fairly clear that Zayn had been avoiding me ever since my return, and I wasn’t quite sure how to broach the subject. It was ridiculous. We’d been in a relationship for centuries, and yet I couldn’t find a way to open a topic of conversation that I knew was probably obvious to us both, so we just sat in silence as I wound my way through the London traffic.
I pulled up outside the apartment block and looked up at the building, fairly impressed that Tory had managed to get in. It wasn’t exactly a bog-standard apartment, Hattie’s parents wouldn’t settle for that. She had a concierge and a footman at the front door as well as valet parking, but then the doorman probably knew Tory, so maybe she’d just persuaded him that she got caught in the rain and had a bad night out or something. She’d had a few wild nights in her late teens and early twenties. I had been there for most of them. The thought made me slightly wistful, longing for days when things were simpler. When we all laughed and joked together and hung out and partied and the worst things on our minds was the pressure to succeed, the expectations of our parents, and not getting caught and photographed for the tabloids. They were good memories, and I missed the girl Tory had been back then, but even more, I missed the days from before that which were even better—of her, Zayn, and me together. I glanced over at him, sadness filling my heart, and wondered if we could ever recreate that again. I certainly wouldn’t give up trying. He might have forgotten, but I hadn’t.
He got out of the car, and I did the same, tossing my keys to the valet. As he got into my car and drove around the corner, I paused and looked at Zayn, trailing my eyes slowly up his body. He was utterly breathtaking. I’d always liked him in black, which he damn well knew, and today he was wearing black jeans and boots, and a black polo which skimmed over his delicious torso. I wondered whether he’d done it for me or whether it was just his personal preference now after so long of wearing the same colour. A black messenger bag was slung over one shoulder, and he looked like any normal modern man in this area of town. Of course, other modern men would probably have laptops and work documents in their bags, but Zayn had a couple of handguns and three different sized blades just in case.
He glanced back and saw my eyes on him. He didn’t react, looking back towards the entrance, but I thought I saw one corner of his mouth turn up. “Let’s go. It’s been a while since we caught her on camera, so she might have already left.”
I nodded and followed him into the reception area. Zayn was used to sneaking into places, not walking through the front door, and it always amazed me how he managed to go unnoticed with the way he looked. Even as we entered the reception of that apartment block, I saw several women’s heads turn, their eyes travelling over his body as mine had done, and he didn’t even notice, or if he did, he gave no sign of it.
The concierge looked up as we walked past. I recognised him at once. He’d clearly worked here for quite a while. “Visiting Lady Harriet.”
The concierge nodded. “Of course, Lord Windham. Pleasure to see you again, sir. You remember which apartment is hers?”
“I do, thank you.”
“I… er… I thought she was away at the moment, sir?”
I grinned. “I thought so too, but I’m guessing she got back early, because I woke up to find a text requesting my presence. One always has to keep the ladies happy.”
“Ah yes, of course, sir. Well, if you need anything, you know where I am.”
I nodded to him and headed over to the lift on the left. It opened, and an elderly couple got out. It left the lift empty, and we got in, standing side by side as the doors slid shut and classical music filled the air. Mozart, I guessed. We stood there for a moment in silence.
Finally, Zayn spoke. “Why would they just let you walk in? I thought security would be tighter.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve been here a lot. Hattie and I were close friends, and Tory too. There was a group of us that hung out since childhood. The concierge has worked the desk for a few years, so I guess he remembered me, though it’s been a while.” I didn’t say that before Tory, I’d had a bit of a wild time with the young ladies of our social circle, and a lot of the doormen of these kinds of places now recognised me on sight. Plus, my name was fairly well known in these kinds of social circles. It never bothered me before, but saying it to Zayn made me feel suddenly ashamed of the privilege I’d been born into and the life I’d led until now. The little I had grasped about his current life was that he hadn’t had an easy life, and my heart ached for whatever hardship he’d gone through. I would never have let him go wanting. He was mine.
