Page 37 of Damon
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“Emma,” Mrs. D’s panicked voice resonates between my ears. I try to blink my eyes open, but they stay firmly closed. I’m cold. Everywhere feels wet. I try once again to open my eyes. A small slit of light appears, but it hurts to look at it. Every part of me is sore. I’m exhausted. “Emma,” the voice says again, then I hear her speaking to someone.
The next time I open my eyes, I’m met with what I think is an empty hospital room. Machines beep and trill, but the room is dark with only small nightlight glowing softly. I glance to the windows and, sure enough, night has fallen. As I go to lift my hands, I find they are held fast to the bed rails tied with something soft. Over my nose and mouth, I have a mask of some sort. Terror takes hold of my body, and I scream. As I pull fiercely at my bindings, the room door swings open and a nurse runs in.
“Emma,” she says firmly, coming to my side. “Calm down, you’re safe.” Her words are loud, slow, and deliberate. She places one hand on my arm while reaching with the other to turn on a side light. “You are in Kings College Hospital.” She gently removes the mask from my mouth and begins to untie my wrists.
“What happened?” I gasp. “Where’s Moreno?” The words shoot out, but they sound barely audible.
“Who is Moreno?” she asks, her voice soft. Puzzlement flits over her features before she resumes her kind but impassive expression.
“The man who threatened to kill me,” I say sharply. “Do the police have him?”
“Emma, you were found on your own in your apartment after attempting suicide. Your housekeeper alerted 999. No one else was in the property.”
“No! I would never…” My voice trails off before I can say more, as a second person enters the room. Damon.
Chapter fourteen
The Blackmore Family Residence, London
Damon
My father and mother-in-law sit opposite me as I introduce them to their granddaughter. Annie is three months old, and they’ve shown no effort to meet her before now. Connie would be devastated by their rejection of her child if she were here.
Their lounge looks the same as it did when we were teenagers. I know this is a formal visit rather than a casual one as Annie and I were escorted to the “good room” rather than the personal living space. I sit forward on the perfectly polished, chestnut-brown Chesterfield sofa, my daughter in my arms. She’s wrapped in the pink wool blanket Mrs. D made for her.
Surrounding us is a large space crammed with antique furniture. Every wall is adorned with paintings from an era long ago. My mother-in-law has a taste for old, expensive pieces which my father-in-law is happy to satisfy. He's always been accommodating of the people he loves. Once upon a time, that included me.
The vicious man who attacked me in my own home, the day before my wife’s funeral, is not someone I recognized. To me, Gerald Blackmore has always been a staunch family man who had our backs. Grief can change someone overnight. It clearly has him.
“Is she sleeping well?” my mother-in-law asks softly. She looks no different to every other time I’ve seen her, her white hair pulled back neatly into a bun, round spectacles carefully placed on her nose. Her no-doubt-designer dress fits to perfection and is decorated with swirls of color.
“Yes, thank you. We are getting at least four hours a night uninterrupted.”
“Who is we?” Gerald snaps.
“Myself and my nanny,” I advise. “We have been taking turns with the nighttime tasks.”
“Another young harlot, Damon? Are you fucking this one too?”
“Gerry,” my mother-in-law chides, but places her fine-boned hand on his knee in comfort. “What have we talked about? You can’t take the rumors as truth. You have no evidence that Damon was sleeping with the surrogate.”
“I was not sleeping with Emma,” I say firmly. Fury doesn’t consume me like I thought it would. I knew the suggestion would arise. Perhaps having my daughter in my arms calms me, or I was prepared. Whatever the reason, I keep my voice level as I respond. “Whoever suggested I was is gravely wrong. Connie was the only woman I have ever been with. Losing her has destroyed me, and this little one is my sole purpose in continuing.”
As my father-in-law opens his mouth to answer, my phone rings. It is lying on the coffee table between us and vibrates off the pristine glass. The name Harrison lights up the screen. He knew I was coming here; he would never call me now unless it was urgent.
“I need to take this,” I tell them, leaning forward, picking up my phone, and standing. Annie is nestled in my arm at my elbow. My mother-in-law stands with me then holds out her hands.
“Give her to me,” she says with a small sad smile. “Let me hold my granddaughter.” I freeze, taken aback by the perceived U-turn. She smiles again. “It’s okay, Damon. I’ll give her back to you. Please let me hold her.” Her husband visibly stiffens as he watches the scenario unfold.
My phone stops ringing, then immediately starts again. Reluctantly, I hand over my daughter and leave the room.
“Where are you?” Harrison says as I lift the phone to my ear after pressing the accept call button.
“Hello to you too,” I snap in reply. “Exactly where I told you I would be. At my in-laws.”
“Well, you need to get to Kings College. Now.”