“Mr Reynard, there are some men here who would like to talk to you,” the doctor said, and I heard two men
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Chapter Twenty Sh
walking up behind me. I turned around and saw that they were dressed in black suits, and they stared down at me with disgust as the taller one flashed his badge at me.
“I’m Detective Brixton,” he said. “We would like to have a few words with you, Mr Reynard. It shouldn’t take too long.”
They’d called the cops on me. I couldn’t even stop to think about the implications of this. I was numb to all of it, and I silently followed them into a small office which felt like an interrogation room. This was standard procedure. I’d seen it a dozen times already in the movies, and I knew exactly what they were going to ask me. I barely paid any attention to what they were saying, answering their questions about how Emily got injured automatically. I told them she fell from the stairs, and I was in my office for a very long time so I didn’t hear anything for a while. I kept my hands under the desk, because I knew my knuckles were bruised and I wasn’t about to out myself so easily. But it all felt mechanical, like wasn’t actually the one doing all this. All I could think about was my dead baby.
The one I’d killed with my own hands.
Eventually, they got tired of asking questions, and the detective slid me his card in case I remembered anything. I noticed the way he was staring at me, and I knew that he wasn’t buying my story. But there was nothing he could do without hard evidence. For that, he would probably need Emily to admit to the fact that I was the one who beat her up.
I had to make sure that didn’t happen.
I left the card on the table after the detectives walked out, but then I grabbed my phone and dialled the one person I hated calling in situations like this. He answered on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“I need my fucking lawyer,” I said simply before hanging up.
Half an hour later, David came striding down the hall, with his tie lopsided and his hair sticking out all over the place.
“I saw the news,” he said. “Jesus, Marcus, what were you thinking?”
“I didn’t call you here for a lecture, Cowell,” I snarled. “I need to know how bad this is.”
“It’s bad alright,” he said. “This is the fucking apocalypse. The media is having a field day. There are people calling for your arrest already. And I just heard a rumour that there is an emergency board meeting at Reynard Tech regarding a temporary suspension of your position as the CEO. The board members fear that having you at the seat will destroy the company’s reputation.”
It was even worse than I thought. I slid down against the wall, and stared blankly ahead. “So what am I looking at?”
“Depends on whether she chooses to press charges or not, he said. “I heard about the miscarriage. And as sorry as I am about that, we need to think about saving your ass. Have you spoken to her yet?”
I shook my head.
“Well, you need to get in there and make sure she shuts her mouth,” he said. “If she squeals, you’re done for. A domestic violence charge will not be so easily dismissed. And don’t forget the fact that she has a prime candidate who is ready to testify against you if that should happen.”
Olivia.
“Just tell me what to do,” I said.
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“Stay with her until she wakes up,” he said. “And as soon as she does, tell her how sorry you are about what happened. Bend some details if you have to. And don’t you dare tell her about the miscarriage immediately. Just make sure she’s calm and relaxed, and make sure she forgives you enough to want to go back home with you. When she does this, you can break the news to her. But make sure you do it in a way that won’t have her flying off the handle. Remember, we want her sad and broken, not angry and Irrational.”
I knew what I needed to do, but I didn’t know if I would have the strength to do it. This was hurting me way more than it was probably hurting her. After all, I was the one who lost a child here. So she had a few bruises and some fractured ribs. Big deal. She would recover from that. But what about me? I was back to square one, and what were the odds of this happening again?
David left shortly afterwards, and I made my way to Emily room. She was still unconscious, with several tubes and wires running all over her body and her head tilted back I sat beside her and stared at her face, with the single black eye over it. I wanted to feel remorse for this. Instead, all I felt was anger. If she hadn’t started yelling, if she hadn’t insulted me, then none of this would have happened It was all her fault.
For a single, brief moment, I thought about reaching over and unplugging everything. Would anyone know? Would they realise what I had done? Or would they think her injuries were just too severe?
Either way, it could be reached back to me. And I wasn’t going to let that happen.
So I sat there and waited.
in and out of
And in those dark moments where I would sometimes forget myself, when I was slipping in and out of consciousness, I would think about Olivia.
of I wondered what she was doing. And how she would react when she found out about this. I wondered if she would rejoice at the news, or feel bad for how things worked out. Fundamentally, she was a good person. I knew a part her would feel sorry for Emily. Perhaps even for me. But would she truly sympathise with us? Or would this be her moment of triumph? I thought about all this, and a lot of other things as well.
And as much as I hated to admit it, there was one single thought that kept roaming about in my head, over and over again each time I saw her face in my mind’s eye, I remembered the way she would graze her fingers over my lips right after I kissed her:
I missed her.
Chapter Twente
