My brow bunches in response to the strange voice on the other end of the line, and I take a quick glimpse of my screen to see if I’ve accidently called someone else, finding I haven’t at all. I take my phone back to my ear. ‘Who’s this?’
‘An old family friend. I’m assuming this must be Olivia?’
I’m sitting up on the couch before I know what’s happened, and I’m standing a split second after that. That voice. My mind is attacked by image after image of him. His scarred face, his thin lips, his eyes that harbour all kinds of evil.
Charlie.
Chapter 20
‘What are you doing there?’ The blood drains from my head, but I don’t take my seat and begin breathing exercises, which I know damn well I should do. I’m beginning to feel light-headed.
‘Well, our lovely chat was cut short earlier, so I thought I’d drop by.’ Iciness oozes from his voice. ‘Sadly, you’re not here. But your grandmother is keeping me entertained. Quite a woman.’
‘You lay a finger on her . . .’ I start for the door, energy and purpose blocking my exhaustion. ‘You even breathe on her . . .’
He laughs, a cold, evil laugh. ‘Why would I ever want to harm such a dear old lady?’
I’m running now, my legs carrying me out of Miller’s office and through the winding corridors of Ice’s basement. That’s a serious question, and it has an answer. ‘Because it’ll destroy me, and by destroying me, you destroy Miller, too. That’s why.’
‘You’re a smart girl, Olivia,’ he says, and then I hear something in the background. Nan. Her chirpy voice stalls my escape and I come to a stop at the top of the stairs, mainly because my pounding feet and heavy breathing are preventing me from hearing what she’s saying. ‘Excuse me,’ Charlie says casually, the line soon becoming muffled. I can only assume he’s holding the phone to his chest. ‘Two sugars, Mrs Taylor,’ he says cheerfully. ‘But, please, take a seat. You shouldn’t be exerting yourself. I’ll see to it.’
He’s back on the line, breathing hard, as if to tell me he’s there again. Where’s Gregory? My eyes close and I beg everything holy to keep them from harm, my gut twisting with guilt. She isn’t even aware of the danger I’ve put her in. There she is, making tea, asking how many sugars the bastard takes, totally oblivious. ‘Should I ask her to make it three cups?’ Charlie asks, kicking my feet back into action. I run for the exit of Ice. ‘I’ll see you soon, Olivia.’ He hangs up and my dread multiplies by a million.
Adrenaline is sailing through me, and I throw my weight into yanking the doors open . . . and get nowhere. ‘Open!’ I pull repeatedly, my eyes searching for a lock. ‘Fucking open!’
‘Olivia!’ Miller’s worried, stricken tone punches holes in my back, but I don’t give up. I yank and pull, my shoulder jarring repeatedly from my constant, dogged attempts to open the stupid doors.
‘Why won’t they open?’ I shout, now shaking them and looking around, not at all averse to throwing something through them in my desperation to get to Nan.
‘Damn it, Olivia!’ I’m seized from behind and restrained in his hold, but that adrenaline is still working, and it’s working well. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’
‘Open the door!’ I lash out, kicking back.
‘Fuck!’ Miller yelps, and I expect to be released, but he just increases his hold around my chest, battling with my flailing body parts. ‘Calm down!’
I can’t see calm. It’s nowhere to be found. ‘Nan!’ I scream, launching myself from his arms and colliding with the glass doors. Pain sears through my head, followed by the sharp curses of Miller and William.
‘Enough!’ Miller spins me around and pins me to the sheet of glass by my shoulders. Wide blues eyes run a quick scan of my head, then focus on the despairing tears that have now burst from my welling eyes. ‘Tell me.’
‘Charlie’s at our house.’ I spit the words out fast, hoping Miller takes them in fast and then takes me home fast. ‘I called to check on Nan and he answered.’
‘Fucking hell!’ William says, stepping forward urgently. Miller might look stunned, but my broken information has settled perfectly well with William. ‘Open the fucking door, Hart.’
Miller seems to shake himself back to life, releasing me to pull some keys from his pocket. The door is opened quickly, I’m guided out quickly, and handed over to William while he locks up. ‘Get her in the car.’ I have no say in the proceedings that follow, and I don’t want any. Both men are working fast and urgently, and I’m good with that.
I’m bundled in the back of Miller’s car, ordered to put my belt on and William is in the passenger seat in no time, shifting to look over his shoulder. A serious, almost deadly look is pointing right at me. ‘Nothing will happen to her. I won’t let it.’
I believe him. It’s easy to, because through all of this heartache and torment, one thing is obvious, and that’s the feelings both William and Miller have for my grandmother. They love her, too. I swallow and nod, just as the driver’s door swings open and Miller falls into the seat.