Page 47 of Unwanted
“Is she under arrest?” Harry said over his shoulder.
“No, but–”
“Then we’re leaving.” Matisse ran in front of us, trying to block our path. I could feel Harry tense up, and I decided to try to calm the situation, pulling Harry to a halt before he let fly at the detective and got an assault charge on top of everything else. I separated from Harry, whispering to him to let me have a moment to reason with Matisse. He reluctantly let me go. When I was a few feet away with the policeman I lowered my voice, hoping that Harry couldn’t hear all I was saying.
“Detective,” I said, my voice was hoarse with how dry my throat was, and I saw a flash of discomfort in his expression as he looked at me. “If I can find out where my mother is then I’ll give her to you happily. You have clearly had the unpleasant experience of meeting my mother a handful of times. If you can imagine for a moment growing up with such a disgusting excuse for a human as your caregiver, and the level of neglect that would entail, you’ll know that she doesnothave my loyalty. You can’t imagine how sorry I am that she’s polluted your town. My mother and her parties are not safe environments for young people, and I am excruciatingly aware of that fact having experienced many near misses in my own childhood. But my mother is not my responsibility. What happened here, whilst awful, is alsonotmy responsibility.”
Detective Matisse blinked at me then looked at my temple where another trickle of sweat was making its way down into my neck and the anger went out of his stance. “Right, okay I… you can go. For now. But–”
“When I find out where she is, you’ll be the first to know.”
At that he stepped aside, and Harry strode back to me then half carried me to his car. Everything seemed too far away, and my ears were buzzing. I felt like I was going to pass out. Now Harry was here, all the fight had gone out of me. He lifted me into his blessedly air-conditioned environment and then leaned over me to grab a bottle of water which he shoved into my hand. I started drinking immediately, my body’s need for hydration taking precedence over everything else. I heard a soft curse in French from the pavement and turned to see Matisse looking at me as I gulped the water.
“Je suis desolé,” he said, his tone much softer now. I lowered the water and nodded, but before I could reply Harry had slammed the door and my words were cut off. He pulled away from the pavement and away from the villa. As we whisked past beautiful mansions, I rested my forehead on the cool glass and revelled in the cold air blowing over my face. I was so exhausted, and that, coupled with a good dose of sunstroke, meant that my brain was slow to catch up to the situation.
“Hey,” I croaked, turning to Harry who was staring straight ahead as he drove. The feeling of massive relief that I had driving away from the house was slowly being replaced with panicked confusion. It made no sense for Harry to be here. “My car? All my bags?”
“Steve is bringing your car. He’s retrieved your passport and phone as well,” he said, his voice was tight with what seemed to be anger. Everyone was angry with me – the police, the neighbours, the officials and now Harry.
“Oh, right.” I paused for moment, my sluggish brain slowly processing. “Who’s Steve?”
“Steve works for me.”
“Oh, of course.” The fact that I was simply accepting that the unknown Steve was driving my rental car with all my things should have been alarming to me. I was the ultimate control freak after all. I’d had to be. Bad things happened if you couldn’t control your environment. But I wassotired. And anyway, look where my control freak tendencies had got me – humiliated in a foreign country. Life, it seemed, after all these years was finally grinding me down. I let my head fall back against the glass of the window again and, after a few moments, I drifted into a blissful sleep.
Chapter23
Don’t you deserve to be free?
Verity
“Verity?”
I blinked as I swam up into consciousness. Instead of sitting in the car, I was lying on a soft bed. Cool white sheets were draped over me and my head was resting on a comfortable pillow. I always noticed bedding. Heath was the same. It was a new concept to us when we started school as kids, and we’d never got over the shock of how comfortable real beds with clean bedding could be.
“This is a nice pillow,” I muttered as Harry’s concerned face came into focus. “I give it a seven. The thread count isn’t quite as high as mine.”
“Oh Christ, you’re delirious,” Harry said, his voice edged with more than a little panic. He didn’t sound like himself at all. His large hand gave my shoulder a squeeze and a small shake as my eyelids started drifting shut again. I grumbled and tried to bury further into the comfy pillow, but his gentle shaking grew more insistent. “Verity, come on, wake up. You’ve got to eat and drink something. Please, love.”
It was the ‘love’ that did it. I managed to blink my eyes open again and refocus on his handsome face.
“What are you doing here?” I said, trying for my normal commanding tone, but my voice was as rough as sandpaper and the effect was completely ruined. I pushed up from the bed then swayed when the world started tilting and spinning.
“You need to eat,” said Harry in a firm voice, then shocked me by grabbing me under both arms and pulling me up into a sitting position. He banked a whole load of pillows behind me, tucked the sheet in around me and then dumped a laden tray-table over my lap. It was all done in the space of about five seconds. Once my head stopped spinning, I looked from the tray to Harry and back again. My very favourite breakfast of pancakes, blueberries and Greek yoghurt was sitting there, along with a glass of grapefruit juice (also a favourite). For my whole life before that point I don’t think anyone had ever brought me breakfast in bed. They’d certainly not bothered to find out my favourite foods. My chest felt tight, and I had to force out my next words.
“How did you…?”
“I phoned Heath.”
“You phoned mybrother?” No no no! I did not want Heath involved with this. “What did you tell him?” I could hear the worry in my tone now. This whole situation would crush Heath.
“Everything, Verity,” Harry shot back at me, and my heart started hammering. Oh no, not now. I couldn’t afford to have a panic attack now. “Which you should have done from the start. This is not just your problem to sort out on your own.”
“Heath didn’t need to worry about it. I was handling it.”
“It didn’t look like you were ‘handling it’ when you nearly passed out yesterday with sunstroke and heat exhaustion thanks to those arsehole policemen. Who, by the way, are going to regret the day they put on those uniforms when I’m through with them.”
I sighed. “They’re just angry, Harry. The whole community is angry about what Felicity’s done. It’s understandable.”
