Facing my past. Hopefully for the last time.
I closed my eyes tightly, blocked out the rest of Ryan's one sided conversation with Nick, and tried to still the panic that welled inside my mind. Legally we were safe. Here, in this house, hidden from the world with Ryan, we were still safe.
But I could not get the thought out of my head, that out there, in the real world, danger definitely lurked. McLaren's tattooed goon. That ex-cop who had turned up at the Birdcage. Coincidence or not?
I'm a pretty practical person. I knew there was nothing of chance to it, at all.
"Babe," Ryan whispered, his hand running down my arm and side. My back to his chest, his face resting on my shoulder, hot air coasting over my cheek. "Nick's all set."
I nodded, kept my eyes closed, my back rigid. Kept counting my heartbeat as it pounded through my head.
"OK," he whispered. "I'll just let Harvey know."
I expected him to move away, but he didn't. He wrapped his big frame around my body, his thighs bracketing the back of mine, his groin nestled into my butt, one hand encasing my nape, the other holding the phone to his ear, right by mine. I could hear the dial tone, as it sounded out through the speaker on his phone. I could hear him inhale a deep breath, his nose buried in the strands of my hair.
"Harvey, my man," he said, softly. As though not wanting to disturb me, but he would have known I was still awake. He was just getting himself settled. Despite the phone call, his body was relaxing, his mind quietening, his voice matching the tone.
I found myself responding to the moment, relaxing, bit by glorious bit.
Ryan did this to me. We could be standing in the middle of a tornado, and if Ryan came close, the winds all stilled.
Ryan calmed my storm.
"Pierce," came his partner's voice through the line. Deep and gravelly, but clear despite the cellphone being pressed to Ryan's ear, and not mine. I thought I detected a note of weariness in his voice. But one word could hardly divulge so much.
"We're meeting with the Crown Prosecutor tomorrow," Ryan said, voice still soft. He wasn't hiding his relaxed state from his old friend, he let Harvey hear the contentment in his words.
"Oh, is that right?" I waited for the judgement, for the self-righteous condemnation he'd given at Ben and Abi's house. But he seemed distracted, and simply said, "What time?"
"Eight tomorrow. Nick's on security, but if you could meet us at the District Court by nine, that would be good."
"No problem." The words were clipped. "What did you get on McLaren in the end?"
"Not just McLaren," Ryan replied, a little excitement showing through his words. "A wealth of information on shipments, payments, debts. Photographic evidence that will tear McLaren's world so far apart, he'll never be able to put it together again."
There was a long, drawn-out sigh on the other end of the phone.
Then,"Fuck. You found the ledger."
Ryan stiffened. Just slightly. "You knew about the ledger?"
"Talks been rife about it on radar. Church, that tattooed freak that chased your mark down, he's been all over the fucking thing asking about it."
"Her name's Marie, Harvey. Use it."
"She started out as your mark. It's not my fucking fault you got involved."
The words were harsh, angry. Full of that condemnation I'd expected before.
Then he added, "And you weren't supposed to fall for her, you bastard." Those words were almost pained.
Ryan sat up, pulling the phone away from where I could hear. I followed him, sitting face to face, taking in the look of uncertainty and confusion, and dear God, was that a little fear?
"What are you talking about?" Ryan asked, his eyes locked on mine, but no longer seeing.
I think that was the most frightful thing of all. Ryan always saw. Always watched. Now he just stared blankly, retreating into a shell of the man I love.
"You took her to your fucking dead mother's house, didn't you?"
I heard every anger-filled word. It didn't matter that Ryan had the phone pressed to his ear and nowhere near mine, Harvey was so agitated by now, he was yelling.
"Harvey?" Ryan pressed.
"You never go there. You almost had me on that one. Not in a million fucking years did I think you'd go there. I gave it up, because there was no fucking way Ryan Pierce would go to his dead birth mother's house. No fucking way!"
"Stone, you're not making any sense."
But he was, wasn't he? He was making complete and utter sense. Detective Harvey Stone was the mole. The leak.
"I had no choice!" Harvey yelled. "I had to give them something. And the best I could come up with was that house. Jesus, Pierce! You go practically catatonic when you have to drive near it. Whangaparaoa Peninsula is a dead zone to you. And you took her there. It's not my fucking fault!"