Thirteen (Love by Numbers Book 4) (25 page)

It was the day she finally packed her bags and fled, taking proof of his activities with her as security. Evidence that she now planned to hand over to the police. When Marcus asked why she hadn’t come forward with the information sooner, she said it wasn’t because she was afraid of what Wayne would do to her, but more what the guys he worked with would do to her family.

“If you think Wayne is a psychopath, you haven’t seen anything yet. The blokes he runs with make him look like a pussycat.”

Marcus assured us that if the police attempted to press any charges against her, that he wouldn’t let them get very far. To which she replied:
“I don’t care what happens to me. I was wrong not to come forward sooner and my sister paid for my mistake. I’m not that weak girl anymore. It’s time to bring Wayne down and the rest of them with him.”

In that moment, she floored me.

To have been so scared of someone for so long, to have had her life controlled so completely, from what she could wear, to what she could eat or who she could talk to, then to come through it not just stronger, but utterly badass, blew me away.

So here I sit. In some small waiting room just off the main entrance of the station. I’m not alone, both of Lilah’s parents sit nervously waiting for their girls. They speak in hushed tones and I watch as her father comforts her mother constantly with small touches and tight squeezes.

I make no attempt to intrude on their time. I’m too busy trying not to go out of my mind with worry, so I can only imagine how they must feel.

I’m so consumed with my thoughts that I don’t feel someone sitting down next to me until a soft hand lands on mine.

I lift my eyes up to see ones identical to Lilah looking directly at me.

“How are you doing, Harry?” Anita, Lilah’s mother, asks with genuine concern on her face. I look over to where she was sat only moments ago and notice we are now alone in the room. She follows my eyes and says, “David’s gone to the toilet, I think he needed a break from my worrying, in all honesty.”

“You have a right to be worried. They’re your daughters and they should never have had to deal with all this.” I turn to look at her, “Neither should you.”

Her hand squeezes mine gently and she gives me a small smile. “Twice we thought we’d lost her.”

I furrow my brow, unsure of where this conversation is going.

“Lilah was eighteen months old when she lost her leg. Both girls had been playing outside our holiday home and I watched her stumble, then cry out. This was nothing new, I mean toddlers fall over all the time, but when I scooped her up in my arms, I noticed a mark on her leg that I hadn’t seen that morning. I attributed it to her fall, kissed her boo-boo until she stopped crying then encouraged her to continue playing with her sister.”

Her eyes become wet and she swallows down her emotions to carry on.

“Later that night she came down with a fever, one we assumed was a typical childhood illness but because I was a bit of a worrier, even then, I told David I’d take her to the doctor the following morning to get it checked out. She became even more unwell overnight, but once the doctor checked her over, he said it was likely a virus and to try and keep her hydrated.”

A single tear spills over her cheek, and she looks more like her daughters than ever.

“I knew it was more than that, something felt wrong, but I took her home and hoped she would perk up soon. Within hours, the mark on her leg became larger and spread from just above her ankle to below her knee. Her temperature was raging and she was completely listless. I called David at work and asked him to come home and we rushed her to the hospital. We left Nicola with a neighbour and didn’t even kiss her goodbye; that’s how worried we were.”

Another tear follows the single track mark on her face.

“They rushed our girl straight into surgery barely telling us anything at all but words like meningitis were thrown around and we were asked to sign a form allowing them to operate on her leg.”

The breath she inhales is shaky and I can feel the years of pain bubble up to the surface so I use my other hand to cover hers and offer her strength in the only way I know how. She exhales loudly and continues with the story that obviously hurts to retell.

“The form was an agreement, signing over our rights as her parents to the doctors. It allowed them to operate as they saw fit in order to save her life. They mentioned to us they might need to remove part of her leg to save her, but we had no idea how much until the surgery was over.”

Her eyes catch mine before she blinks and looks away to the single window, her memories taking her back to that day.

“I’ve never felt as helpless as I did that day. I prayed and begged to every God I could think of to save our little girl. When the doctor came to us after the surgery, I knew it was bad. He told us how they made incisions all the way up her leg, trying to find healthy flesh, in order to cut the badness away. They got to her mid-thigh before they found anything but blackness and while I was sat praying to Gods I’ve never worshipped before, my baby was fighting to stay alive and having the majority of her leg cut away.”

A sob leaves her mouth and I wrap my free arm around her shoulders hoping to give her comfort.

“We didn’t see Nicola for almost a week. We left our little girl with anyone who would have her so we could stay by Lilah’s side, but even as Lilah recovered, the whole experience never actually seemed real.”

Her weary eyes rest on mine once more.

“I can clearly remember the exact moment it felt real. We’d not long brought Lilah home and the girls had received a rocking horse for Christmas, just a few weeks before. It was Lilah’s favourite toy. She kept saying ‘Horsey, horsey’ over and over so David picked her up and carefully sat her on the saddle, her face was beaming. She didn’t understand that she was unable to get on and off like she had before and David only took his eyes off her for a second when Lilah made a break for it and tried to climb off using the leg she didn’t even realise was gone.”

I can’t imagine what it must feel like to watch your little girl go through all that, but I do know who Lilah is now. “She’s stronger than any of us think.”

She huffs out a small laugh, “Oh, I know she is. Well, she was until Wayne got his claws into her. That was the second time I thought we’d lost her.”

This time, it’s her hand that squeezes mine when she feels my body stiffen.

“But I see our old Lilah coming back and I think you’re responsible for that, Harry. So I want to thank you because I can’t bear to think about losing her again.”

I open my mouth about to speak when a commotion from outside has us both jumping out of our seats and rushing towards the door.

Anita goes to open it and I still her hand, “Let me check, it’s a police station, after all, and I don’t want you getting caught in the middle of any criminals who are getting booked.”

She drops her grip on the handle and I ease open the door, making sure she’s safely behind me. The scene that greets us is not what I expected. David Tremere is being pinned against a wall by two beefy coppers while another three restrain a guy who is going absolutely crazy.

Wayne.

“Get your fucking hands off me! I’m going to kill the bitch and anyone who has anything to do with her,” he roars, bucking and throwing his head back in an attempt to make contact with any of the guys holding him back.

One of the officers pulls out his truncheon and warns Wayne to calm down or he’s going to use force to make him. Wayne responds by thrashing some more and letting out a stream of expletives. The copper doesn’t hesitate; he pulls back his hand and smacks Wayne straight behind the knees, making him buckle and land face first on the ground. The two other blokes are quickly on him, pinning him down by the shoulder blades with their whole body weight.

His furious eyes meet mine, and even though his face is pushed into the cold tile so hard, that he resembles a gummy bear that’s been stepped on, he still manages to grit out, “And you’re the first one who is going to get fucked up. Gimp lover.”

I don’t think about my actions as I charge forward, ignoring the futile attempts by Anita to hold me back. I don’t get within five feet of the fucker because the bloke with the truncheon who just took Wayne down, steps in front of me pushing both hands into my chest.

“Stand back, Mr Brown. We’ve got this under control.” His voice holds no argument. It’s a warning that he’ll take me down too if necessary and I really couldn’t give a fuck.

“You
do not
want to do this, Brown. Anything that you decide to attempt, right here, right now, is not only going to get you locked in a cell, it’s also going to give that,” he looks over his shoulder and tilts his chin towards Wayne, “
man“-
the disgust in his voice is obvious- “evidence of mistreatment while in custody. Now, you don’t want to do anything to jeopardise this case, do you, Mr Brown?”

All the fight leaves me; there is no way I’m letting that piece of shit get away with anything, even if I still want to beat him into a bloody pulp.

“Understood.” I make sure to catch the officer’s eye, “I get the message. You don’t need to worry about me.”

He waits for a beat before removing his hands then waits a few seconds more, still not trusting me to retreat.

“That’s right, you pussy. Walk away. I’ll still find you
and
my whore of a wife.”

I clench my fists so hard that I think I might break a finger or two, but I don’t turn around. I walk straight up to Anita and usher her back into the waiting room where she collapses into my arms and sobs.

Moments later, David is escorted into the room by an officer, and immediately takes over the comforting of his still sobbing wife.

He mouths ‘Thank you’ to me and leads Anita over to the chairs, where he wraps her up in his embrace, apologising for his behaviour and promising that everything is still going to be okay.

I slump down into a hard plastic chair. Adrenaline still coursing through my veins making my muscles ache with tension. Then realisation hits; they’ve got him. She’s finally safe.

Relief hits me like a tidal wave and my body hurts as each of my muscles relaxes. I shift back into the chair and look up at the ceiling, my mind spinning with possible ways to make Lils forget about all this.

I would love to take her away for a few days. Somewhere hot and secluded would be nice. Scrap that idea, I’ve only just started working for Nate; my first pay check isn’t for another few weeks, so I’m skint.

I’d love to be able to do what Jake did for Emma. Take her around the world, explore all the sights with her, show her what it’s like to start living again.

A memory pops into my head, it’s of my trip to Japan where we all joined Jake and Emma, and the day we visited the Meiji Shrine. The wishing tree and it’s never ending branches fill my vision, swaying gently in the breeze. The air there was so still and there was something so magical about the place, that even I felt a calmness wash over me.

I can remember staring at the tree for a long time before deciding to write down my wish. It was only a few days before that I’d got my cancer diagnosis and watching my friends,
my family,
happier than I’d ever seen them before, made my wish easy.

I want to live.

I didn’t beg, nor plead. I asked in the simplest way I could. I wanted to not only beat cancer’s arse, but I also wanted to
live.

Lilah finally gave me that.

Although I got the all clear months ago, it wasn’t until I met Lilah that I finally felt alive.

My wish came true and now I vow to repay her by making all hers a reality.

David and Anita shoot up from their seats and when I drag my eyes from the ceiling, I can see why.

Nicola and Lilah enter the room and are immediately smothered by their parents. Anita’s sobs turn from ones of despair to joy and I stand on the edges, waiting for my chance with
my
Bunny Girl.

I don’t have to wait long, as Lilah squeezes herself from out of their hold and rushes towards me. She all but jumps into my arms; both thighs squeeze my waist as I hook my hands under her bottom and hold her to me.

We don’t speak, we just are.

We stand silently until our heartbeats sync and our pulses slow, forgetting that there is anyone else in the room but us.

“As much as I love this public display of affection and your tight little body pressed against mine in this delicious way, I’d also like to know everything that’s happened. What did they say?” I speak the words into the soft skin of her neck, only loud enough for her to hear.

Her head lifts from my shoulder and her beautiful chocolate eyes shimmer, relief evident in her features. “I told them everything. They listened. They took all the evidence I saved up and then they cautioned me.”

I pull back abruptly, “They what?” Disbelief rages through my voice.

She strokes her hand down my face, brushes my lips with her fingertips before cupping my jaw with her palm.

“It’s the least they could do, given the circumstances. Marcus has promised it’s nothing to worry about and my cooperation means the caution will not escalate into a charge.”