Collateral(32)

“We can’t do anything. “

“Of course we can. Being defeatist is the only sure way we’re definitely going to lose here,” I say. “How many men does Charlie have with him?”

Lacey thinks on this. “They come and go all day. I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well, I know the kind of man Charlie is. He won’t leave us waiting here for long. And when he sends for us, we’ll be ready. Right?” I have no idea where this shit is coming from. I know the kind of man Charlie is? We’ll be ready for him? Really? That sounds incredibly cliché and entirely unbelievable, but I sound like I mean it. Gives me an air of plausibility. Lace darts a doubtful look my way, but then nods slowly, still chewing on her lip.

“Tell me about the screwdriver,” I say.

“I snatched it when they parked the cars in the underground parking lot. They have a garage down there. Some of the guys fix up old cars for Charlie. They were arguing about whether they should go back for you and Zeth, so they didn’t notice me slip it into my pocket. It was small.” She looks down at her hands. “I should have waited. We were walking up the stairwell to get into the building and I couldn’t take it anymore. He just kept sniffing and sniffing, and I knew why. He was off his face. I didn’t care, then. I just wanted him to die. I pulled it out of my pocket and I was gonna drive it into his back, but the two assholes behind me grabbed me before I could.” She looks up at me, eyes still shining brightly from her tears. “Charlie was not happy.”

“I can imagine.”

“He had this room ready for me. It was full of pink lace and these pretty dolls. The bed was massive. It had one of those things hanging down from the ceiling over it. I don’t know what they’re called.”

A canopy. I had a canopy over my bed when I was a little girl. I felt like a princess, and every night Dad would draw the voile across and lie on top of the covers with me, reading stories out of my Brothers Grimm books until I fell asleep. Poor Lacey never had that. Perhaps in some way, by giving it to her now Charlie was trying to be a father to her. But after your child tries to stab you in the back with a screwdriver, I imagine that changes things. I am right.

“He didn’t let me stay in there, though. He said I had to learn some respect and he threw me in here.”

“At least he didn’t kill you.”

“He can’t kill me,” she says miserably.

“Why not?”

“Because he told me Zeth’s not really his. And he has no brothers or sisters. No other living relatives. I’m the only other person alive on the planet that shares his bloodline. And…he’s dying, Sloane. He hasn’t got long left to live.”











Charlie Holsan’s on the way out. Thank the universe. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to hear a terminal prognosis in all my life. Does that make me a terrible, awful person? I remember Zeth saying he assumed Charlie was sick, and now that it’s confirmed it feels like a weight is being lifted from my shoulders. I have no idea why. I’m still locked in a concrete box with no means of escape. I still have no idea where the man I love is, or whether he’s even okay. But somehow, just knowing Charlie’s not got long left is faintly comforting.

After an hour of holding Lacey in my arms and comforting her, Michael begins to stir. His eyelids flicker open, his right hand making involuntary open and closing twitches.

“Michael? Michael, are you okay?” I check his pupil response again, though it’s still hard to see how his irises react with so little light. He mumbles something under his breath, eyes not focused on anything in particular, and then it’s as though his system reboots right in front of me. He inhales sharply, eyes widening, back bowing, and then Michael is suddenly awake. Properly awake. He looks up at me, two small creases forming between his brows.

“Where’s Zee?” These are his first words. No confusion over where we are. No checking himself over to see if he’s all right. Where’s Zee?

“We don’t know.” I place my fingertips against his neck, checking his pulse. Still slow, but steady. If we were in the hospital, I’d be very concerned about my patient. I’d want to keep him in a couple of days to monitor him. There would be MRIs to check his brain function and internal organs. There would be at least three people, each responsible for making sure a different part of Michael was functioning properly, watching him around the clock.

I would be in the same position. However, since we’re not in the hospital, I just have to assess how he’s feeling and go from there. Not that I can do anything about it if he does experience compression to his brain, or he is bleeding internally, of course, but still…