around him, gathering his bearings, scanning the busy scenes in front of him as filming continued out on the street opposite.
India was standing on the sidelines, watching Dominic shooting a scene. Her arms were folded, her eyes never leaving the new man in her life, despite the old one being not a few steps away from her. And just the sight of Michael Walsh – knowing what he knew now – only served to send another wave of anger flooding through Reece’s body as all rational thought left him, leaving him with nothing but tunnel vision and just one endgame in sight. To get to the man who’d hurt his daughter.
So there wasn’t time to take another deep breath, or to maybe stop and think about whether or not this was the right thing to be doing, there wasn’t time for any of that. All Reece could focus on was getting to Michael, that’s all he had in his sights, nothing else mattered anymore.
So he didn’t hear the car screeching round the corner, so fast there was almost smoke coming off its tyres. He didn’t have time to register the fact it had driven straight through the barrier that had cordoned off the street from the movie set, so he had no time to think about moving out of its path. He didn’t have time. He just didn’t have time…
CHAPTER 32
India swung round as the sound of screeching tyres – mixed with the screams from onlookers who’d witnessed everything – filled the air, and for a few seconds she couldn’t quite register what was happening. It was all a blur of shouting and smoke and total confusion as she watched the car make its exit as quickly as it had appeared, the sound of the paparazzi cameras clicking away as the scene outside The Amber Palace entrance slowly began to become clear.
All around her people were running about, talking into their cell phones, the sound of sirens now punctuating the air of panic that had suddenly taken over the previously calm movie set. But all she was aware of was what her eyes were now seeing. Someone was lying in the road outside the hotel. They were surrounded by a growing crowd of people, and as India felt a hand slip into hers she didn’t turn away from what she was looking at, because she needed to know. She needed to know who was there, lying in the road. She knew it was Dominic who’d taken her hand, she knew that because she’d seen Michael run over to whatever it was that was happening. So she knew the person beside her, holding her hand, she knew that was Dominic. Dominic was okay. Michael was fine.
She watched as Michael pushed his way through the crowd outside in the road, frantically shouting at everyone to get back, although everything sounded muffled and faint now, as if she was slowly trying to distance herself from it all. And then, suddenly, a wave of nausea hit her from out of nowhere. Because now she was sure she knew who it was who was lying there in the road, lifeless and still. She was sure she knew who it was. The glimpse she’d caught of him as he’d lain there, before everyone had crowded round him like some sideshow circus act, that glimpse had been fleeting and brief, but she knew who he was.
And as Michael finally fought his way through the crowd, kneeling down beside the body that had been tossed into the air like some throwaway obstacle that had just got in the way, he turned around and fixed India with a look that tore into her like a razor sharp knife, ripping through her heart with a pain she couldn’t begin to describe. Yet, at the same time, she felt nothing. It was as if a numbness had taken over so quickly she’d had no real time to register its appearance.
She felt Dominic squeeze her hand and she looked up at him, willing him to say she’d got it wrong, that Michael had made a mistake, that any second now he’d realise that and his expression would change, but that didn’t happen.
‘The paramedics are on their way, baby…’
‘Don’t say that, Dominic… ‘
That stubborn feeling of denial was taking over again, just as it had that night back in 1997 when she’d refused to believe that Terry had been shot, when she’d tried to pretend that if she blocked out what people were