I'd been so fucking excited to tell Ella what my dad had said, and now something was screaming at me that I may not get the chance.
In a weird silence, I trailed behind her, still tightening my belt and running my hands through my damp hair. The entire mansion was quiet, eerily so. I wondered if I stopped and waited for a moment, whether I'd hear the whispers of ghosts that haunted the damn place. The usual hustle of bodies and the noise of men couldn't be heard. My gut churned. I wanted my bird to talk to me.
Before long, Ella was pushing open the library doors and standing to one side. Her husband sat at the small table by the window, his fat spilling over the leather fabric of the chair, his palm gripping a drink. He didn't acknowledge we'd entered, he simply waved his hand and dismissed Ella.
The room was empty without her.
Fuck. I was empty without her.
And this no-good prick had hurt her again. My rage was paramount.
“Jax, come take a seat. There are some things we need to discuss.” I went to move, but he spoke again. “Oh, leave your weapon on the table over there.”
Frowning, I left my gun where instructed, aware of the thin layer of ice my heavy work boots stood upon. Vladimir's deathly glare focused on the grounds outside as I sat down, he didn't say a word as he slid the bottle of scotch across the table. I'd have refused, politely, of course, but I needed a fucking drink. This place was making me hit the bottle earlier and earlier it seemed.
An eternity passed, I'd poured and drunk my drink, the grandfather clocks' ticks all I could hear. What the hell did he want?
“Amy is ready for you to see.” He said from nowhere. Eyes never moving.
Okay, now that I hadn't seen coming.
“The men have looked into everything, and I'm afraid we still don't know who's responsible. I've taken the liberty of arranging the funeral date and place, you and yours just need to do the rest. I'll have the details sent to you.”
I weighed up what to say. Should I go along? Just let this go and let my friend have peace, or did I push for answers? Declare that that wasn't good enough, demand he send her body to my father.
“I know you want to argue with me, Jaxon, but the fact of the matter is - this is the world we live in, we try to protect our women, and yet sometimes the lies they spin are their undoing.” And that's when he looked my way. His brow heavy, a hangover I'd have bet, a garish pink shirt only halfway buttoned-up, enormous thighs bulging from shorts too small. The sight of him made me wanna rip my fucking eyeballs out.
Try to protect our women? Did he say that? Cunt.
“Thank you, sir,” I replied cringing.
“There is one last thing before I take you downstairs, though.”
“Oh?”
Vladimir quickly knocked back the rest of his scotch and shifted in his seat. “It's about a Marco. And your second argument with him.”
“Sir, it won't happen again. I know better than to respond to someone provoking me.”
Vladimir raised a fuzzy eyebrow. “How was he provoking you?”
Shit. “He accused me of some rather crazy things, sir.” I had to assume Vlad was still unaware. I couldn't give out more information than I received.
“Which was?”
I yanked at the buttons around my throat. “That I'd, er, kissed your wife, sir.”
Vladimir bellowed. Laughter erupted from his mouth, and I flinched. His ham fist pounded the table, and he rose, shaking his head. “Oh, he's got a wild imagination, that one. My wife knows better than to betray me, especially with a goddamn Murdoch.” He continued to laugh as he crossed the room. Sensing I hadn't followed, confused as hell, he turned back and held up a hand. “You coming then, Jaxon? I don't have all day.”
“Yes, sir.”
We descended a flight of stairs, stairs that didn't lead to the cells, and if I thought Vladimir's laughter had been confusing, I was even more so as Ella trailed behind us. I knew he kept her in the dark about most things, and I couldn't understand why me seeing Amy was something she needed to be involved with, as if she hadn't seen enough death and gore in her years. Not that I was complaining too much; I was hoping she could sense that I had news, good news, news that could forever change her entire world, and mine.
We arrived at the morgue, and Vladimir hurried in opening the doors, waltzing into the room and yanking on the zip as though he were opening a suitcase.
Stepping away, he said, “Ella, and I will give you five minutes to say your goodbyes.” He approached me and patted me on the back. “I warn you - she's not pretty.”
Fucking cunt. I had to bite my tongue and count backward from ten before I done something impulsive.
He didn't close the doors to give me privacy, of course, and as I moved closer to my friend, one of my best fucking friends in all the world, knowing that her warmth was gone, a lone tear fell.
With closed eyes, I used my hands to reach for the table, when I felt metal beneath my fingertips, I took a breath, and then another, and another and then opened my eyes.
A choked sob escaped my lips as I saw her face. I wanted to reach out and stroke her hair. Instead, I took hold of her hand, and she was ice. I'd never known Amy to be cold. She had been born with a glow of gold around her, and now it was gone, snuffed out like a flame caught in the wind. My eyes trailed down her body, covered in an ugly dress, a dress that wasn't hers, and I seethed. Tears were mixing with rage. Rage mixing with a kind of grief like no other. Her bump. It was as though it had never existed. I touched her belly, and my fucking heart shattered.
Carefully, I zipped the bag up. There was nothing her body could answer, all evidence of the truth of that night had been washed away, and I stormed from the room.
As I passed Vladimir, I fought to keep my emotions in check. Without stopping to wait for either of them, I said, “That dress is fucking disgusting. I want it changed.”
Chapter Twenty One
Ella.
It had been four very long days since Vladimir had allowed Jax to see Amy, four days, and I hadn't seen or heard a word from him. The fact I had been so cold towards him was eating me up inside. I hadn't wanted to, but I was hurting. This morning I found myself at a loss, and so I headed for the pool, perhaps a swim would help clear my mind for a while.
I'd heard through the grapevine that Amy's funeral would be held in two days, and Vladimir had even given Jax permission to attend, granted he returned to The Mansion before nine that evening. As I slipped my dress off and climbed into the cool, soothing water, I wondered whether Jax would return. If he didn't, I wouldn't have blamed him at all.
We'd been crazy to think that my life could end any other way than next to Vladimir, or by his hand. He may have given me a photograph of my darling daughter, but I didn't assume that meant his heart was softening, no, that had hardened into stone years ago. That was an irreversible change.
“Hey, babe. Mind if I join you?” Marnie's voice interrupted my thoughts.
I looked up and shielded my eyes from the sun and saw my friend standing at the poolside, slipping off her thongs, her body clad in a black swimsuit. “Yeah, course.”
She smiled and dived into the deep end, splashing water everywhere. I stopped doing my laps and clung to the edge of the pool, waiting for Marnie to emerge.