His attention was on her...as it should be, and mine swung back to focus entirely on Sully. I didn’t want to leave him, so instead of sitting in his office and studiously deleting any file or email that might be incriminating, I took his laptop to him and used the passwords Cal had given me to hack into his online life.
One of my first tasks was messaging my father. I thanked him profusely, apologised for the long delay and stress in not getting in touch, and advised that I would call him soon to tell him what happened. I would need the time to come up with a fictional tale rather than divulge the real one.
He responded almost immediately in typical ‘worried father’ style, demanding answers and to speak to the man I’d put my life at risk for. I’d typed back with a promise he would meet him soon...
And then, I’d logged off Facebook because my heart hurt too much at the thought that Sully might never meet my father or that I would never see the man I loved smile again.
The melancholy was never far away. The heartache and the strain of sitting beside him while he lay unmoving almost drove me to madness.
Work was my salvation, and I threw myself into it.
“I’m rifling through your emails, Sully. If you wake up now, you can stop me.” I glanced at the silent, stunning man beside me.
I stared so hard, my eyes strained seeking the slightest shiver.
Nothing.
Sighing, I stroked his arm and clicked into his online domain. “I won’t delete anything important, you have my word...just the stuff that could ruin your freedom.”
I earned a new appreciation for Sully’s intelligence and the lengthy text-heavy emails he received from his scientists about new drugs, successful trials, and strategic focus groups. Those I kept, placing them into a file labelled Sinclair and Sinclair Group.
Searching his folders, I kept my heart guarded against trafficking emails and correspondence, not really wanting to learn his acquiring methods or the payment amounts he’d given for the girls’ lives. However, after two days of snooping, I found nothing even hinting at his unlawful predilections.
Not a single deleted spam link or saved internet cookie that might lead back to sites and men that the police could never know about.
He’d either used an encrypted server or he’d already cleaned his inboxes personally.
Biting my cheek, I looked at Sully.
He lay as still as always, like a knight entombed in marble. His arms neatly by his sides, the sheet hiding the constellations of healing bruises, cuts, and scars. The cast on his ankle and the bandages on his thigh remained blocked by the bedding while his cheeks grew hollow and his muscles sharpened from lack of solid food.
Needles vanished into the back of his hands and a pillow cradled his handsome head, sensors stuck to his chest, and his eyes remained stubbornly shut.
“Can you hear me, Sully?” I ran my hand over his forehead. Cool to touch. Empty. “Every day is harder...every day is scarier.”
No response.
“I love you, even if you are putting me through hell...again.” I tried to laugh, but it just sounded pathetic. Sighing, I returned to rifling through his life and stumbled upon a reply email from his lawyers.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: New Will and Testament.
To Sullivan,
We have received your request and updated as per your instructions.
Sinclair and Sinclair Group will be bequeathed to Calvin Moor upon your death.
Jessica Townsend will receive two million in cash.
Eleanor Grace will inherit Goddess Isles along with two caiques, Pika and Skittles.
Your prior donations and preferred charities have also been updated along with your current assets that will be equally split between Calvin Moor and Eleanor Grace.
Anything else, please don’t hesitate to email.
As always, we appreciate your business and wish you good health.
Elliot Cockran.
Tears that I’d managed to keep locked inside overflowed.
All my worst fears compounded.
He’d come after me even at the detriment of his own health.
He’d known he was going to die and put me before his own life.
He’d ensured everything he’d controlled and created had been divided.
Cal deserved it after a lifetime of friendship.
But me?
I’d already taken the most expensive thing from him.
I’d taken his life.
I’d captured his heart.
And now...? Now he’d given me an end instead of forever.
Chapter Thirty-One
...
..
.
OUT OF THE DARK came a choice.
A single question that hovered on my fading periphery.
Live or die?
The time had come.
Fight or give in?
I hovered in absolute darkness with no answer.
I wanted her.
The girl I couldn’t see or hear or touch.
I wanted happiness with her, the world with her, forever with her.
But I couldn’t have her without having all my misdeeds and trespasses.
The fact still remained that I’d done things that couldn’t be undone.
Things that couldn’t be forgiven.
Things that would prevent me from happiness because I didn’t deserve such absolution.
Live or die?
Make the choice.
Decide.
Now.
The blackness thickened.
Something crushed my phantom chest.
And I made a choice.
I gritted my non-existent teeth as my misery selected for me.
My answer was non-verbal.
The response silent but suffocating.
Things started changing, morphing, preparing.
I waited for the end.
...
..
.
Chapter Thirty-Two
THE COMA BROKE ON the third week.
And I wasn’t there.
The phone call came at four in the morning, ripping me from sleep and racing me in my night shorts and pink singlet all the way to Dr Campbell’s surgery.
Cal was already there.
His eyes stuck on Jess as if she was the only woman alive, his hand wrapped around her small one, his body slouched in a chair beside her bed.
I crashed into the room, unable to stop my speed, ripping both their attentions to me.
Sully had written a new Will and Testament to include the three of us. He’d gone after me knowing he wouldn’t survive, and it didn’t matter that for the past week I’d done my best to erase the fate that he’d written and scribble completely different things, I couldn’t seem to stop his choice.
I hadn’t told Cal
