The Drowning Tide (Blair Dubh Trilogy #2) (18 page)

With a shaking hand she poured herself a glass of red wine and curled up in front of the small television, attempting to take her mind off what was going on in Craig’s boat. Soon the bald man would get his hands on Freya and she wouldn’t be in her way anymore.

Mandy’s lips curled into a cat-like smile, the thought of Freya dead in a box cheering her. The morbid bitch would probably enjoy it.

CHAPTER 19

Will couldn’t move. At first he’d thought it was because he was still cuffed to the bed, until he realised every muscle in his body refused to obey his frantic commands. His face felt better, less puffy and misshapen, but he was drained of every last drop of strength.

“Will?” said a soft musical voice he’d come to know quite well.

He tried to call out to her but the sound was muffled by the bandages. At least he could move his lips now, that must be progress.

Her face appeared in his line of sight and he felt the muscles in the side of his mouth strain in an attempt to smile but he lacked the energy.

The nurse stared down into the pair of pretty blue eyes and smiled. She’d been right, she
knew
the owner of those eyes couldn’t have done anything bad.

“Hello Will.”

She said my name,
he thought excitedly.

“It’s okay, we know you’re not Docherty,” she said, running her fingertips through his hair when his eyes blazed with hope. “The police are tracking him down as we speak. You’re going to be feeling pretty rotten, you had an allergic reaction to the Penicillin because of course we didn’t think you were allergic to it, but you’re going to be okay. The infection’s clearing up too and you’re healing. We’ll soon have you back on your feet.”

Will didn’t want to be back on his feet, he wanted to stay here forever and look at her. He loved her soft roundness, her long curling eyelashes and sing-song voice.

“I’ll bet you’re feeling a wee bit weak,” she said sympathetically.

He managed to muster the energy to nod his head.

“You can’t eat yet, you’re still being fed intravenously, but I can get you some water through a straw.”

She disappeared from view and he recoiled when Harry appeared in his line of sight.

“Will, I’m so sorry. I thought you were Docherty, I really did,” he said, looking genuinely upset. “I mean, why wouldn’t I?”

Because you should have fucking checked,
Will snarled in his head.

“We’d no reason to think…I mean…oh Christ, what can I do to make this up to you?”

Nothing,
retorted Will, wishing he could shout the words in the bastard’s face.
I’m going to sue the fucking arse off the prison service.
He was getting his fight back, he could feel it flooding his veins, breathing fresh life into him. If he’d had the strength he would have punched Harry in his smug mouth, something he would never have dreamed of doing before because he was scared of the bastard. But now he was done with Harry, with the job, everything. This was a new beginning for him with his scarred face. He didn’t know what sort of future it was going to be but he was determined to make the best of it.

“I’ll see you get the best care Will,” continued Harry. “The service will pay for the plastic surgery, you’ll be good as new. No one will ever know.”

Will’s eyes burned with a ferocity that silenced Harry. They both knew the head warder was in the shit, that he should have been on the seg unit when the rioters had broken through but he’d nipped upstairs to the staff room to phone through a fucking bet on the horses, the prick was addicted, which meant they were understaffed. Someone of Harry’s stature and capabilities would have evened up the odds a bit and he might not be lying here now.

The nurse appeared before him with a straw stuck in a glass of water.

“Here you go,” she said encouragingly, placing it between his mangled lips.

He tried to suck but was unable to form the necessary seal around the straw, so all he achieved was some wheezy inhaling. The frustration at his inability to complete such a simple task made him want to cry.

“It’s okay, take your time,” soothed the nurse. “Have another try.”

This time he was successful and the cool liquid slipping down the back of his throat was heaven-sent, so much so he actually moaned with pleasure. He realised what he’d done and looked away, embarrassed, but the good woman continued to smile indulgently.

“Better?” she said.

He managed one slow nod.

“You’re getting there. We’re removing the bandages tomorrow.”

Will swallowed hard.

“It’s okay, I’ll be right here with you.”

The nurse smiled when those pretty blue eyes shone with pleasure. As she started to run her fingers through his hair again his body relaxed, his breathing slowed and those eyes turned hazy with pleasure. She tried not to think about how that made her feel inside, she didn’t even know the man, hadn’t heard one word pass his lips yet. On top of that he was going to have a face full of scars. Somehow she knew that wouldn’t make a difference.

“Do you fancy going to the pub tonight?” said Craig, holding a mug of tea out to Freya.

“Thanks,” she replied blearily, pushing herself upright on the bed. After another strenuous attempt at making a baby she’d fallen asleep, exhausted by the day’s trauma.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, taking a sip of the hot tea. “Did you phone Muir?”

“I did and he spoke to the aunt again. Apparently Mandy had already left for her date when he called.”

“Did he believe her?”

“No. I think she’s here and she did that to your parent’s graves. I spoke to Steve. He and Gary eventually managed to get the list of names from Toby and the ones they did get hold of denied it. Unfortunately some of the tour group had come into Greenock on a cruise and had already sailed.”

Freya nodded. “I think it’s Mandy too.” This made her feel a bit better. Mandy was an enemy she knew she could handle.

“Steve and Gary said they’d be in the pub tonight if you fancy going. If not that’s fine, we can stay here and get more practice in,” he said, sinking onto the bed beside her and kissing her neck.

She thought over her reply, giving herself time to enjoy his lips on her skin. “Hmmm, why not. It would be nice to catch up with them properly and your mum said she was going.”

He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. “I noticed you shaking earlier after you’d seen the state the graves were in. Are you okay now? I need to know before we go to the pub.”

“I haven’t experienced a craving like that in a long time but it’s fine now. I won’t be tempted to order anything alcoholic.”

“Good,” he smiled, running his fingers through her hair.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” she said, putting the mug of tea on the floor, pulling back the covers and getting to her feet.

Craig pulled her back down to him, rolling on top of her so she couldn’t escape.

“Get off me you daftie,” she said, laughing.

“I’m not letting you go until I’m absolutely certain you’re fine.”

Freya melted inside. He was just looking out for her, like he always did. “I am, I promise.”

“You wouldn’t lie to your husband, would you?” he said, dipping his head to kiss her bare breasts.

“Never,” she murmured.

He raised his head so she could look into his dark earnest eyes and know how sincere he was being. “Because I still don’t think you understand how much you mean to me.” Despite how far she’d come Freya still had low self esteem, not thinking herself good enough for him, which was ridiculous.

“I know you love me,” she said, stroking his face.

“That word doesn’t do justice to what I feel for you.” He smiled at the delight and wonder on her face. No one had loved her between her mother dying when she was eleven and fifteen years later when they met up again and - despite how often he said it - she still couldn’t let herself go and fully believe in it. “We’ve already agreed we’re not letting the lack of a baby or mad Mandy come between us. If we can overcome that we’re certainly not letting a dram split us up either.”

“Craig, I’ll never touch alcohol again. You’ve no worries on that score, honestly. I‘m well aware one more drink could kill me.”

“Good because you’ve no idea what it would do to me to lose you. If Mandy tries to hurt you I will kill her.”

Freya was alarmed. “No babe, you won’t. If you do you’ll lose your job, that I know you love, and you might even go to prison. She is not doing that to us, she’s not worth it.”

“I would kill anyone who hurt you,” he said determinedly.

“Don’t say that, please,” she whispered, planting a soft kiss on both his cheeks then his lips. “You’re scaring me.”

“You know I’d never hurt you.”

“Course I do. This isn’t you Craig, you don’t talk about killing people. What’s going on?”

“I just want you to know that I’d do anything for you, whatever it takes.”

Her eyes searched his, studying every thought and feeling that ran across his face. This wasn’t like her man at all, he was normally full of smiles and jokes, not this.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “What am I doing to you?”

“It’s not you, it’s all this shit that keeps getting flung at us and I’m sick of it. Mandy’s my fault. If I’d broken up with her properly this wouldn’t be happening now.”

“She’s no one’s fault, she’s just some stupid bint with a personality disorder.”

“And this time she will go to prison for what she’s done, I’ll make fucking sure of it. This time she’s really done it.”

“I know. Come on, this holiday is supposed to be relaxing us,” she smiled. He was the one who had started this conversation to reassure her and now it was the other way around.

When she unzipped his jeans and slid her hand inside his underwear his eyes flared then slowly closed with pleasure.

“Just relax,” she whispered.

His eyes snapped open. “How am I supposed to relax with you doing that to me? Jesus woman,” he grinned.

Freya smiled up at him. Her Craig was back.

Gary and Steve were already propping up the bar chatting with Nora, Bill and Jimmy when they arrived at the pub.

Craig had been his normal cheerful self on the short walk from the boat to the pub and Freya had resolved to keep a close eye on him. Sometimes she got so caught up in her own internal struggles that she forgot things affected him too and she felt horribly guilty about it. He was a police officer, used to dealing with the darker side of life so it was easy to overlook the fact that he wasn’t a machine who could handle any horror that was thrown at him.

After their intense conversation he’d made love to her frantically, almost aggressively, and it had been wonderful but also an indication that he was deeply troubled, but then he had always felt things very keenly. When The Elemental started killing he’d blamed himself for not being able to catch him quick enough to save three women rather than blaming the killer for deciding to commit murder. Now he was blaming himself for the desecration of the graves and the constant harassment Mandy had subjected them to rather than blame Mandy herself.

When they arrived Steve shook Craig’s hand and Gary embraced Freya.

“Hello beautiful,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“It’s so good to see you two again,” she smiled, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze. “Maybe we can catch up properly now and please, can we talk about happy things?”

Steve and Gary were more than happy to oblige and regaled them with hilarious anecdotes, many of which involved Sergeant Hughes. The two men were the best of friends now but they hadn’t always been so close. The Elemental case had bonded them and when they weren’t working they were usually together.

As she listened to them relate a tale about a disastrous double date they’d gone on Freya felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck. Turning, she saw Graeme sat at the opposite end of the bar, a whisky in one pasty white hand, watching her. He didn’t react to being caught staring, he didn’t even look away. He gave her a slow nod and raised his glass to her, just like he had before. Freya wasn’t one for doing something just for the sake of politeness but she still nodded back, her instinct telling her it would be very bad to be rude to this man. She recalled the strange conversation they’d had at the church with his references to evil. Had he been trying to tell her that he was evil or warning her that evil was close? Involuntarily she shuddered.

“Are you cold?” said Craig, sliding his arm around her waist.

“You must be joking, in this heat?” she smiled, dragging her eyes off Graeme.

Craig caught him staring at his wife and fury filled his eyes. “Is that freak bothering you?” he said loudly.

“No he’s not and don’t call him that.”

“Why not?” he demanded, his gaze still fixed on Graeme, who looked back at him completely unconcerned, which annoyed Craig more.

“Because I’ve got the feeling it could be bad,” she said.

“Bad, how?”

“I don’t know. Just let it go, please. We’re here to have fun not get into fights.”

She was relieved when he smiled. “You’re right. Just ignore him.”

Keeping his arm around her waist Craig turned them both so they were facing away from Graeme, but Freya was still very aware of his eyes boring into her back.

When Craig disappeared into the toilet and Nora got caught up in conversation with Jeanette and Lizzy, Freya found the perfect moment to speak to Gary and Steve about the newest arrival in the village.