I swallow the lump in my throat. “I have do have information for you, Brock. It’s vital information.”
He raises his brow again, not believing me at all.
“But… I want to talk about us before we talk about that,” I add.
His cold eyes hold mine. “I’m not interested in anything other than the case.”
My eyes instantly fill with tears. He’s so cold, and his tone is filled with hatred. “Brock,” I whisper. “I miss you. I want you back.”
I try to take his hand in mine but he stands and turns his back. It’s as if he can’t stand the sight of me anymore.
“Don’t!” he snaps.
“Brock, please, just listen to me. I thought I was doing the right thing.” I stare at his back. “I thought…” My voice trails off.
He remains silent and still.
“I felt guilty, Brock. I felt guilty for falling out of love with him and falling in love with you.”
He stays silent.
“I kept going over and over the night that I told him I loved you. I kept seeing his hurt.” I pause for a moment. “And then I just went upstairs with you and went to your mother’s house without any regard for his feelings at all.”
Still, he doesn’t look at me.
“I didn’t want you waiting at home for me while I sat in the hospital.” I screw up my face. “I didn’t want you to hate me,” I whisper.
Silence.
“I love you, Brock, and more than anything, I was hoping…” I inhale sharply. “I was hoping that we could try and work this out.”
He doesn’t acknowledge a single word I’m saying.
“Can you at least look at me!” I shriek in frustration. “You let me cry in the rain for an hour last night outside your house and you didn’t even care.”
He turns, and his eyes meet mine.
“Can we?” I whisper hopefully. “Can we try and work this out… please?”
He stares at me.
“Say something,” I whisper. “What are you thinking?”
“What’s the information you have on the case?” he asks calmly.
My face falls. “I asked you a question.”
“And I asked you a question.” He rolls his lips. “Answer mine first, and then I’ll answer yours.”
I nod. Okay. He’s going to talk to me. “Fine,” I murmur. “Evidence is going missing from the lab.”
He narrows his eyes, his interest piqued. “What do you mean? What evidence?”
“Only evidence on the prostitute murders, too. Nothing else seems to be out of place.”
He frowns as he listens to me.
“Rourke set up a trap and hid some fake evidence one night. The next day, when he came in to check it, it had been switched…” I continue.
He frowns. “How does he know it was switched?”
“Because he put his own hair in it as a test. When he checked it the next day, it wasn’t his. Rourke thinks the lab is bugged somehow and that maybe someone is listening in on our conversations.”
He clenches his jaw and thinks for a moment. “I need to get a camera in the lab. How do I get in there?”
“You can’t, its completely blocked to the public.”
He puts his hands on his hips, lost in thought.
I think for a moment. “I could do it,” I offer.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want you involved in this.”
“I already am, though. It’s where I work. It’s one of my good friends. It’s in my apartment block. I couldn’t be more involved if I tried.”
“I’ll think about it,” he says calmly, and then he walks towards the door.
“Brock?” I call.
He turns back.
“You didn’t tell me what you were thinking?”
His eyes hold mine. “I was thinking that I wish I’d never met you,” he says flatly.
I swallow the lump in my throat, and my vision blurs. His words cut like a knife.
He turns and walks out, and I stare at the closed door feeling numb all over again.
He’s never going to forgive me. I’ve fucked it.
I place the slide into the microscope and peer through the lens. I can barely see through my bloodshot eyes. I’ve hardly slept a wink. Rourke is downstairs in a meeting with the other technicians. I pretended I had to do something urgent so that I didn’t have to go. I didn’t really. I just couldn’t stand the thought of sitting in a meeting for two hours talking about accreditation standards.
The door opens and then clicks shut, and I turn suddenly.
Peter has let himself into the lab. Oh no. Does he think I’m in the meeting downstairs too? I don’t want to startle him or see something that I shouldn’t.
“Hello?” I call.
His face lights up when he comes around the corner and sees me. He’s genuinely surprised. “Hello, my beautiful Tully.” He smiles and pecks me on the cheek. His hand grabs my hipbone and he pulls me snug to his body.
Erm…
“How are you?” He smiles as he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.
My skin crawls. He’s very touchy today.
“Fine.” I force a smile. “How are you?”
“Lonely.” His hand lingers on my hipbone and he squeezes it tightly.
My nerves begin to rise. “You should get a girlfriend.” I look around the lab.
Fuck…
As if reading my mind, he glances around the lab, too. “It’s just me and you up here today?” he asks.
I nod. “Uh-huh.”
“Mum told me about Simon and the baby,” he says.
I smile, relieved for a change in the topic. “I’m happy for him. She seems really nice. I was at the hospital with her the other night.”
His eyes glance down to my lips, looking like he’s going to kiss me.
What the fuck?
“And you left the other guy, too?” He smirks.
“Brock.” Get his name right you dipshit.
“I didn’t think much of him, anyway. Good riddance.” He gently squeezes my hip again. That’s it.
“What are you doing?” I snap, flicking his hand off me.
“Come on, Tull,” he whispers. “You’re lonely, I’m lonely.” His eyes drop to my lips again. “We can help each other out.”
“What… by fucking?” I snap, outraged.
He inhales sharply and grabs my hand, placing it on his hard dick. “You know I’ve always wanted you.”
My eyes widen in horror. “What the hell, Peter?” I whisper angrily as I snatch my hand away. “The feeling is not mutual. I’m offended. You need to leave.”
“Bullshit! I’ve seen the way you look at me. You want it.” He grabs my hand and puts it back on his hard cock again.
I pull my hand away and shove him in the chest. “Get the fuck out!” I snap.
“Come on, Tull,” he whispers, pushing me backwards and pinning me to the bench. “We would be so good together,” he breathes on my neck.
“What the actual fuck?” I knee him as hard as I can in the balls, and he doubles over in pain. I run to the stairs and take them two at a time.
I get to the bottom of the stairs and push the double doors open, panting and gasping for breath.
That’s it. Fuck him! I’m telling them what I know.
Peter is a fucking asshole.
“Are you kidding me?” Rourke whispers from across the table.
“I wish I was,” I whisper as I lean forward in my chair. “So, Brock and his team think it’s a policeman who is forcing these girls to blackmail wealthy business men, and then he’s murdering the women once they’ve done it.”
He frowns as he sips his Coke. We are at lunch in the middle of a crisis meeting, and I’m telling Rourke everything.
“And now you are suspicious that someone is switching evidence,” I whisper.
“Not suspicious. I’m sure of it,” he says with conviction.
“Remember when I saw Brock downstairs at reception, way back when I hardly knew him, and he was wanting to know who was driving a certain police car?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“I just checked it.” I glance around and lean in. “Peter was driving it.”
His eyes widen. “Peter… your stepbrother?”
I nod. “Yep.”
He puts his hand over his mouth. “Fucking hell,” he whispers and runs his hands through his hair. “Maybe it was a coincidence?”
“Maybe. Brock said he wants to put a hidden camera in the lab.”
His face falls. “We can’t do that. If we get caught we’ll lose our jobs.”
“But we can’t tell anyone,” I whisper. “We have no idea who we can trust. If we tell the wrong person, they’ll kill us, too.”
Rourke puts both of his hands on his head. “Fucking hell, Tully, what do we do?”
“I don’t know. But we had better start thinking of something fast.”
“And they really think this is so serious that Meredith is now in protective custody?” He frowns.
I nod. “Uh-huh.”
“Where is she?” He frowns.
“I don’t know,” I whisper angrily. “I have no damn idea what the heck is going on anymore.” I throw up my hands in exasperation. “The whole world has turned to shit.”
“Did you speak to Brock?”
I roll my eyes. “He told me he wishes he’d never met me.”
Rourke winces. “Ouch.”
Now it’s my turn to put my head in my hands. “I went to his house the other night during that big storm. He wouldn’t answer the door, so I sat on his front step and cried in the rain for an hour.”
Rourke curls his lip in disgust. “Playing hard to get, hey?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I can’t believe what a fucking idiot I’ve been.”
Rourke widens his eyes. “I wouldn’t say a fucking idiot. A martyr, yes.”
My face falls. “You think I was being a martyr?”
He shrugs casually. “I think that you never dealt with your guilt over leaving Simon and you channelled it very badly by dumping Brock.”
I stare at him sadly.
“I can’t believe Simon got someone pregnant,” he sighs.
“Do you know how fucked up I am?” I ask. “I’m thrilled that he got someone pregnant because it means that I’m not the bad guy in our relationship anymore.”
“You were never the bad guy, Tully. Breaking up with someone is not being a bad guy. It’s just being honest. You did the right thing… right up until you threw away what you had with Brock.” He points at me. “That was fucking stupid.”
“I know.”
“And he will probably never get over it,” he adds.
“I know that, too.” I sigh as I put my hand over my forehead.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he hates your guts now.”
“Shut the hell up, Rourke,” I snap. “You’re pissing me off with all your honestly.”
“Listen, back to business before we go back to work. I think we need to seriously consider what Brock is saying. He won’t let anything happen to you.”
I shrug. “Can you come and talk to him tonight with me, please?” I ask. “I’m so lost in all of this.”