With or Without Him (38 page)

Something dark and unpleasant stirred in Haris’s gut. “I’m glad you did, otherwise it might have broken you. Come home.”

When Tyler still didn’t take his hand, he let it fall.

“Why didn’t you call me when Rashid threatened you?” Haris whispered.

“My finger slipped on the phone.”

“Liar.”

Tyler sighed. “I didn’t want Rashid to hurt you. I thought you’d come blundering in and get killed. He’d have whipped me whoever I called, so I pressed the name below yours, Henry, that’s Prescott. I figured he might come or send someone and they wouldn’t be happy if Rashid was going to mess me up. Lu must have already been at the club.”

“And Rashid tried to kill him.”

“Lu said I was his and he showed Rashid how to use a whip without cutting. But I think, in his own warped way, Lu tried to control the situation. He hadn’t expected Rashid to try and strangle him. If you hadn’t come…shit.”

Tyler wedged his hands between his knees and lowered his head. The paramedic came back to tell them to fasten themselves in and they spent the journey to the hospital in silence.
 

What can I say? How can I win him back?

Haris expected Tyler to tell him he couldn’t come with him into the triage room but he didn’t and that gave him hope. Tyler stripped off his shirt and lay face down on the examination table. Bile surged into his throat when he saw the state of his back under the harsh lights. The whip marks extended below the waist of his pants.
His beautiful back. Oh fuck.

“Is it bad?” Tyler muttered. “Because it bloody hurts. I don’t know how you stood it.”

“Stop whining. There’s only a couple of scratches,” Haris said.

When Tyler’s lips twitched in a smile, Haris allowed himself another glimmer of hope.

A doctor strode in, frowned when he saw Tyler’s back and then glanced between the pair of them. “Go too far?”

“Not him,” Tyler said quickly. “It was a crazy guy with a whip. And he’s dead.”

The doctor’s eyes widened in alarm.

Haris sucked in his cheeks. “He got knocked down by a car. The police are investigating. They’ll need photographs of Tyler.”

“No,” Tyler said. “No more photographs. I’m sick of them. And what’s the point? What can they do to a dead guy?”

When Haris watched Tyler grit his teeth as a nurse treated the wounds, he thought that it was a good thing Rashid was already dead.

Chapter Twenty-One

As the nurse carefully cleaned Tyler’s skin and covered the worst slashes with butterfly plasters and dressings, Haris texted Wilson and asked him to come to the hospital and to bring a shirt and another coat. It broke Haris’s heart to look at his back, but the doctor had said it would heal quickly and Tyler might not even be left with scars. He thought of his own and shuddered.

“Hey,” Tyler said. “I could get my back tattooed. We could do it together. But I’ll have the snarling dragon and you can stick with the cute puppy.”

The nurse laughed.

“See? He thinks a puppy will work fine on you.”

Tyler was coming out of the darkness. Haris wasn’t used to seeing him down.
Are we okay now?
Tyler might be talking about the future, but was that just for the nurse’s benefit? Haris knew things still weren’t right and he wasn’t sure how to make them right.

“You’re good to go now.” The nurse left them in the cubicle.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tyler asked.

I could ask you the same thing.

“I nearly lost you,” Haris whispered. “I’ve fucked everything up. I wanted to kill Rashid when I saw what he’d done. And I know it’s not just the physical damage, although it’s my fault this has happened to you. I’ve hurt you and I’m sorry. I should have trusted you to tell me everything.”

“Yeah, you should. I would have eventually. I kept trying to and then chickening out. One more day, that’s what I told myself.” Tyler swallowed hard. “Did you look at the movies?”

“No. I don’t want to see them.”

“Are you angry about them?”

“Are you?”

Tyler sighed. “Not angry, just disappointed in myself. Ashamed.”

Haris took his hand and stroked his palm with his thumb, relieved Tyler didn’t pull away. “Don’t be any of those things.”

“I worried you wouldn’t like me anymore and that I might have wrecked things for the band if we finally got some interest.”

“Secrets fuck things up. If you’re going to spend your life in the public eye, better to have everything out in the open so the press has nothing to feed on. As far as I’m concerned, your past doesn’t matter to me unless it matters to you. It’s your future I’m interested in.”

Tyler made an attempt at a smile, but it wasn’t convincing. “I’m hungry. Can we get a pizza?”

“I want Wilson to take you home.”

Tyler sat up and pulled on his blood-stained shirt, trying not to look at it. “Just me? Why? What are you going to do?”

“I need to speak to my brother.”

“The one that wants to kill you? I don’t think so. Not unless you take me with you. And Wilson. And Alcide. He can be fierce, especially if you tease him with a biscuit.”

Haris couldn’t help smiling. He hung his coat gently over Tyler’s shoulders and they headed for the exit. But when he saw who waited in the car with Wilson, he wondered how much worse this evening could get. Wilson jumped out when he spotted them and came round to the other side of the car.

“Are you both well?” Wilson asked.

“We’ve been better. I thought my father was going back to his hotel?”

“I discovered as we were talking that he shares my interest in railways and as you know, sir, there is little that I find more fascinating than a discussion of the different gauges found all over the world and as we talked, time just flew by.”

Haris groaned.

“I’ve put a shirt, sweater and coat on the back seat. Home, sir?”

“No. St. James’s hotel in Mayfair.”

Tyler climbed carefully into the back of the car and Haris slid in after him.

His father turned to face them from the front passenger seat. “What’s happened? Why were you at the hospital?”

“Rashid is dead. He was hit by a car when he ran into the road.”

His father gasped. “Were you hurt too?”

“I’m fine. Tyler’s not so fine. He—”

He felt Tyler squeeze his knee and got the message.

“Rashid was under the mistaken belief that he was the only one who’d been whipped. He came here to put things right.”

“Malik told him that?”

Haris could hear the disbelief in his father’s voice.

“I don’t think you’re going to want to hear or believe this, but Malik wants me dead and he convinced Rashid I needed to die.”

“No,” his father whispered.

“Not long ago, Tyler and I were pushed into the path of a bus. It barely stopped in time. Rashid said he didn’t do it and I believe him. I think Malik saw an opportunity to get rid of me and when that failed he came up with another plan. I suspect he’s waiting in the hotel for Rashid to call and tell him it’s done. When I confront him, he’ll deny everything and make some pathetic claim that he brought Rashid here to try and reconcile us. I called Adil earlier and he said he’d tell Malik I wanted to speak to him. I’ve had no call from him.”

“I can’t believe…” His father faced forward. “Why would Malik do such a thing? You’re his brother.”

Tyler had put on the new shirt and Haris balled up the bloody one and pushed it onto the floor out of sight.

“He wants your money, Baba. To take over your business when you die. He feels it’s his right. He’s worked with you, built the company up and doesn’t want me to have anything to do with it. If I own a third, if I have a third of your money, he has no choice but to involve me. You could have disinherited me. I’m not a practicing Muslim. I drink alcohol. I’m homosexual.”

“Born Muslim, always Muslim,” his father said.

Haris didn’t believe that, but it was what his father believed that mattered.

“And you are my eldest son.”

“I’ve not played that role for many years,” Haris said.

“It matters not. You are what you are.”

“Malik will go to jail if we prove what he was trying to do,” Tyler said.

“He’d still inherit his share of the money,” Haris said. “Even if he’d murdered me.”

“We’re approaching the hotel, sir,” Wilson said.

“Find somewhere to park. Stay with the car and Tyler stay
in
the car. Father, please come with me.”

“You must be joking. I’m coming with you,” Tyler said, struggling into the coat.

“Nor do I wish to be left out, sir.”

“You didn’t bring the dog, did you?” Haris asked.

“Goodness me. He’s snuck in at your father’s feet. The little scamp.”

Haris sighed. “Wilson, find somewhere to put the car and stay in it with Alcide.”

Wilson pulled up against the curb and a man in uniform stepped forward to open the doors.

“Please let me handle this,” Haris said.

“What are you going to do?” asked his father as they walked into the hotel.

“See if I can persuade the desk to tell me the room he’s in for a start. I want to surprise him.”

“I can do that,” Tyler said. “Go and wait by the elevator.”

Tyler rejoined them a few minutes later. “Fourth Floor. Room 423.”

Haris pressed the button. “How did you manage that?”

“I’m useful for something. I recognized the guy on the desk from college.”

As they went up in the elevator, Tyler nudged him.

“What?” Haris asked.

“What do you want to achieve?” His gaze flittered to Haris’s father who leaned against the back wall.

“The truth,” Haris said.

“The police don’t know about your brother yet,” Tyler said.

The elevator doors slid open and Haris stepped out.

“You don’t need to tell them,” Tyler said quietly.

“Rashid is dead because of him. Jeremy’s still in the hospital and you could have died.”

“But he’s your brother and your dad looks so ill.”

Haris put his mouth to Tyler’s ear. “He’s dying.”

“Oh God.”

Haris knocked on the door of 423 and waited. When Malik part opened it and saw the three of them standing there his eyes widened. Haris wished he could feel happy to see his brother again, but anger burned inside his belly. Blue flames reached up to lick his heart and fully ignite his fury.

“Aren’t you going to invite us in?” Haris said.

“I’m busy.”

Haris shoved the door open and stepped inside. Two half-naked women sprawled on the king-size bed.

“Get dressed and get out,” Haris said.

He led his father to a seat and sat him down. He looked tired and drawn and Haris felt a pang of guilt for what he intended to reveal.

Once the women had gone with handfuls of cash from Malik’s wallet, Haris closed the door.

“What’s going on?” Malik asked.

He’d grown taller and broader since Haris had seen him, but the glint of cruelty still lurked in his eyes.

“I thought you were in America,” his father said.

“I decided to stay a while in London. I like it here.”

“Rashid’s dead,” Haris said. “He was hit by a car.”

A myriad of emotions flashed across Malik’s face and the last of them looked suspiciously like relief.

“Why did you bring him here?” his father asked.

“I didn’t
bring
him. He contacted me after he was released from prison. He wanted to see Haris again. He was…confused. I felt it was my duty as a good Muslim to help him clear his mind of—”

“You’re lying,” Haris said. “Rashid told us everything.”

“I’m not lying,” Malik snapped.

“You were determined I wouldn’t inherit and the only way you could be sure of that was if I was dead.”

“This is rubbish. Perhaps Rashid had an ulterior motive he hid from me, but I’m not responsible for his actions.”

“He didn’t know I’d been whipped too. All the anger left him when he saw my back. You lied to him.”

“You’re crazy. This is crazy.” Malik turned to his father.

“You pushed us under a bus. That was you, not Rashid.”

“Why would I do such a thing?”

“Because you’ve always hated me.” Haris turned to his father. “It was Malik who told the police that Rashid and I had gone to the hotel.”

His father gasped. “Why…why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“You believe him?” Malik yelled. “He’s lying.”

“Oh my God,” Tyler whispered.

“You were on the street when I was taken away by the police,” Haris said. “I saw the smirk on your face. Then one of the policemen let it slip, deliberately I suspect.”

“You should have told me,” his father whispered.