Pitch Black (Romantic Thriller, Completed)

Chapter 25

Monday morning arrived, and it was a relief when Luke went back to work. Breakfast had been an awkward affair, a mix of politeness and avoidance. Hardly surprising after his confession the night before—he'd told me he loved me, and I didn't say it back. Normally, lies came easily, but the words stuck in my throat. I'd never told anyone I loved them. How could I start now, in a relationship built on a foundation of half-truths and hope?

I'd kissed him instead, but it was no consolation. When I'd pulled back, his eyes filled with hurt and disappointment, and as he walked away, the pit of dread in my stomach grew ever deeper. How could I repair things? I'd never had this problem in my deep and meaningful relationship with my Walther P88.

We'd reached mid-February now, and each day got a little lighter. I'd taken to running in the early mornings as soon as Luke left then heading to the gym until lunchtime. For the last few days, I'd borrowed Majesty in the afternoons and gone out riding. Apart from a small difference of opinion over a pheasant, we were getting along famously.

When we'd been chatting, Tia had told me more of his history.

"I saw a video on the internet and fell in love with him, back when he lived in Qatar and his name was Majnoon. Luke bought him for my birthday."

"You know majnoon is Arabic for crazy, right?"

A blank look. "Is it?"

I tried to stop laughing, unsuccessfully. "The guy who sold him to you must have been laughing his head off."

"He seemed so nice in the emails."

I gave her shoulders a squeeze. "A lot of pricks do. Majesty's not a bad horse, though. We'll sort him out."

Yes, it had started as another routine week in the life of Luke, Ash, and Tia. Quiet, easy, kind of dull.

Things changed on Wednesday evening when a feeling absent for months made a reappearance. A prickle. A tingle in the base of my spine and a tension that spread across my shoulders. I'd relied heavily on my instincts over the last couple of decades, and they were usually bang on the money. Something wasn't right.

My mind cycled through the possibilities before settling on the problem. Where was Tia?

She'd gone to Arabella's house after school, but when she called me at lunchtime, she said she'd be home for dinner. My version of macaroni and cheese might have been crude, but she still claimed to like it.

And right now, it was going crispy around the edges. I glanced at my watch—she'd been due at half past six, and the clock said five to seven.

I tried calling her. Voicemail.

"It's Ash. Just checking you've remembered dinner. Can you call me?" I kept my tone light, not wanting to scare her if everything was fine. I sent a text message saying the same thing. No reply.

Had her battery run out?

I dug Arabella's number out of Luke's computer, and she answered almost instantly.

"It's Ash. Could you give Tia a shove out the front door? Dinner's nearly ready."

"She left ages ago." A pause. "Maybe an hour?" Another pause. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm sure it's fine. Honestly, don't worry. I had the music on loud so I bet she's snuck up to her room."

I didn't want to panic Arabella, but I knew damn well Tia wasn't in the house. I may have been rusty, but I wasn't dead. And that meant I wanted to check the route myself before calling Luke. A bit of the real me stirred deep in my soul, and I ran upstairs to change. Dark colours were the order of the day—a navy blue jacket, dark red jeans, and brown boots.