Wicked Truths (Hunt Legacy Duology 2)

Mark appears behind Lucy, his bearded jaw tight. Long gone is the dumbfounded expression. Now he looks hacked off. ‘What the hell are you playing at?’ he asks shortly.

Lucy’s blue eyes dull, anxiety filling them as she swings around to face him. ‘She was all over you like a rash.’

‘And I ignored her,’ he replies calmly.

‘She was goading me.’ Lucy sounds desperate as she rushes to spill her excuses for her behaviour. ‘I couldn’t take it any more.’

Becker moves in close to me. ‘We should go.’

‘I’m not leaving her,’ I reiterate firmly, stepping away. I need to be here for Lucy, because this isn’t going to end nicely.

‘Princess, your friend has just been brawling in a bar. I’ve just tampered with fire safety equipment. The police might be on their way, and I don’t want to be—’

‘Then go!’ I snap. ‘Don’t let me inconvenience you.’

Becker’s up in my face quickly, his face tight. ‘You’re not an inconvenience, princess, but being arrested might fucking be.’

My eyes widen. Yes, because then he would have to talk to the police. I fly around and find Lucy screaming bloody murder. I hurry over, arriving by their side, not that either of them notices my presence. ‘Lucy, let’s go.’ She needs to calm down. And we need to get out of here.

‘You shagged her!’ Lucy screams, demented, huffing and puffing. ‘In the printer room at work!’

‘I’ve told you over and over. It meant nothing,’ Mark roars, flinging his body around and stalking off. ‘And we weren’t even together.’

Lucy runs after him, and I follow, keen to get her home before she does any more damage, or before I hear blue sirens. ‘Lucy, please, come on.’ I reach to grab her arm but miss by a mile when she dives forwards and pushes Mark in the back.

‘She wants you!’

He slams to a halt, as does Lucy, as do I. Then he turns slowly and breathes in deeply. His calm actions force Lucy to keep her gob shut. ‘I love you, Lucy. She’s nothing but a woman I scored with because I could. Because she was free and easy and throwing herself at me. She was a means to an end during a drought. Nothing more. How many times have I got to tell you?’

This is the point when Lucy should back down. But no. ‘Tell her that!’ she screams in his face, staggering forward on unsteady legs.

‘I fucking have!’ he yells, pushing her arm away. They quickly become entangled in a blur of flying arms, Lucy lashing out in her drunken stupor and Mark trying to restrain her mad arse.

Oh, Jesus, could this get any worse? Becker stalks past me and puts himself in the middle of it, his patience frayed, and Lucy’s flailing limbs are soon restrained. ‘I have her,’ Becker says tightly, securing her back against his chest. ‘Go, mate. We’ll sort her.’

‘Thanks.’ Mark straightens himself out, looking at a heaving Lucy with a mix of annoyance and pure frustration before he hails a cab. One pulls over quickly. ‘It’s over, Lucy. You clearly don’t trust me and I can’t be in a relationship like that.’ He gets in and the cab pulls away.

Becker relinquishes his hold of Lucy as soon as the cab disappears around a corner. And then the wailing starts. Big, heaving cries of despair. I’m not going to patronise her, tell her she’s a twat and that she’s fucked it all up. She already knows that. Taking her jerking shoulders gently, I guide her around, tenderly but hastily, as she shudders under my hold, giving Becker a sorry shrug. He looks absolutely and completely exhausted by it all.

‘I’m driving,’ he says, indicating up the road. I follow his extended arm and see his flashy black 5-series a few hundred yards ahead. ‘We’ll drop her off on the way home.’

There are two things I note. The first, Becker said ‘home’ again, like The Haven is my home, too. Secondly, ‘drop her off’ implies we’ll be leaving her. The first I’m thinking is best left unaddressed for now. Besides, I quite like the sound of it. The second needs addressing this minute, because I definitely don’t like the sound of that. ‘I’m not leaving her,’ I tell him, loading my voice with determination that he shouldn’t dare argue with.

But he does. ‘And I’m not leaving you.’ He has a quick scan of our surroundings.

‘Then it looks like you’re staying at Lucy’s, too,’ I say quietly, and I find I imitate him, looking around.

‘Princess,’ Becker sighs, exasperated. ‘You’re coming home with me.’

A sniffle and a splutter reminds me of my wreck of a friend who is still in my hold. ‘I’m not leaving her,’ I grate, backing up my declaration with a determined glare. She’s pissed, she’s been dumped, and she’s emotional. ‘She needs—’ Something suddenly springs to mind, and I frown as I glance down and search Lucy’s hands. ‘Our bags,’ I say, looking back at the bar. ‘We left our bags in the bar.’ The crowds have died down, but the doormen are keeping watch, looking rather foreboding. They’ll be fine. I’ll explain the problem, and I’m sure they’ll oblige and let me in to collect our bags. I thrust Lucy towards Becker, a silent demand to hold onto her, and head for the bar.