Reading Online Novel

You Don't Own Me(60)



His face becomes pale under his tan. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks urgently.

‘Just come with me,’ I urge, and start pulling him down the corridor.

He falls into step beside me. Outside Dahlia’s door I pause and look at him. There are lines on his face that were not there a few months ago. How much he has changed. I turn the handle and let him enter.

He stops almost immediately. Then he runs to her bed, his hands outstretched. He touches her skin. He stares down at her face. He listens to her chest. Then he turns to me.

‘What the hell?’ he shouts wildly.

‘The new maid accidentally turned off the wrong switch while she was vacuuming,’ I say.

He starts laughing. Like a mad man. ‘Fuck, Noah. She’s breathing on her own,’ he shouts.

I start laughing too.

His eyes are shining. ‘This is good,’ he says. ‘It’s fucking good.’

I nod and he rushes to me, throws his arms around me and pulls me into a great big bear hug. For a second I am too shocked to do anything, then I hug him back tightly.

When he lets go there are tears in his eyes

‘Shit. I’m crying,’ he says. He wipes them with the sides of his hands. ‘I’ve never cried tears of joy in my life. I never even knew what the phrase meant.’

‘I’m really glad,’ I say softly.

‘Who took the tube out?’

I point at Jane who is standing silently by the curtain. ‘Jane did.’

He turns to look at her. ‘Great. Just great. Well done.’

Then he turns to look at me, shaking his head and grinning from to ear to ear. He turns back to Jane. ‘Have you called the doctor?’ he asks suddenly.

‘The doctor is on his way,’ she says.

‘Well done,’ he tells her. He faces me. ‘About the maid, give her a bonus, two years’ wages, and fire her. Get someone more experienced to clean Dahlia’s room.’

‘Yes, boss.’

He goes back to the bed and looks down at Dahlia, his eyes roaming her face possessively.

He turns his head to me. ‘I can’t believe it, Noah,’ he says with a big grin.

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I nearly had a heart attack myself when I came in and saw what she had done.’

He laughs again. A deep belly laugh of pure joy

‘Right, I’ll be outside if you need me,’ I say, and leave the room.

Stella

‘You may not be able to see me right now, Dahlia, but I’m freaking killing it doing the happy dance!’





June





Thirty-nine


Zane



It’s a hot, muggy night, and it’s been one of those days when I feel her loss more keenly. As Bernadette told me, there’ll be good days and bad days. You just have to weather the bad days and the good days will roll on in.

I decide to go and have a drink at the Matrix.

Not since Dahlia was ripped away from me have I been there. I enter the club and look around. Nothing has changed. I walk to my usual table and sit. A waitress comes to ask what I want to drink. She must be new. I haven’t seen her before. I order a large vodka.

‘And bring the bottle,’ I tell her.

‘Yes, Sir,’ she says.

She brings a full bottle and a large vodka on a tray. ‘Will there be anything else, Sir?’

‘I’ll let you know,’ I say, picking up the glass and raising it to my lips.

She slips away, and I drink. More than half the bottle is gone when a woman’s voice asks, ‘Zane?’

I lift my head. A woman with curly blonde hair and a tight short dress is standing in front of me with her head tilted and her eyebrows raised. I frown at her. She looks familiar. Yup, I think I remember her. We met through a mutual acquaintance at a Casino. She is Swedish or Norwegian.

She smiles. ‘Remember me?’ she prompts.

‘Vaguely,’ I say.

‘I’m Abbie, a friend of Zio Tito. We met in Monte Carlo, last year?’

I nod.

‘Are you alone?’

I spread my hand out and let it flop down.

She laughs. Low and sexy. Yes, I remember that. Abbie, the consummate flirt. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’

I gesture to the space next to me and she takes a seat, gracefully aligning her body so her smooth legs are ever so slightly apart and slanted towards me. She has the kind of golden skin that only true Nordics can have.

‘So what’s Zio Tito up to these days?’ I ask.

She pulls a face. ‘Doing time in Italy.’

I smile dryly. Of course he is. ‘What’s he in for?’

‘Some kind of ticket touting online racket.’

Truth is, that is the fate of most criminals. In and out of prison.

The waitress comes and Abbie orders a White Russian. I didn’t expect it to hurt that much, but I feel it like a stab in my gut. That’s Dahlia’s drink. What the fuck am I doing here? We sat here. Right here on this very seat. A deep painful breath shudders through me.