The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(30)

‘Me answer my phone? You barely give me the time of day,’ Adam fumed. ‘Then you click your fingers when it suits you and expect me to dance to your tune.’

‘You’re a journalist, aren’t you? It was to do with work.’

‘Then why meet me in Arro and not here? You were leading me on. Now things haven’t worked out, you’re spitting your dummy out of the pram.’

Adam was right, she had manipulated his emotions purely to help Ellen’s case. She drove her hand through her hair. ‘I’m sorry if you think I’ve messed you around, but a little girl is missing. The world doesn’t revolve around you.’

‘Around me?’ Adam’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment. ‘You’ve no idea of the sacrifices I’ve made for you, the opportunities I’ve turned down.’

‘I don’t have time for your theatrics.’ Amy checked her watch. ‘I’m expecting a call from Luka. I need to go.’

‘Wait.’ Adam’s hand hovered over her arm. ‘Are you seeing someone named Donovan?’

Amy could not believe her ears. Who had told him that? But a straight answer was not on the cards when she did not know herself. ‘What business is it of yours?’

A shadow of regret crossed Adam’s face. ‘Listen . . . I need to talk to you. I know everything . . .’

But Amy’s head was cocked to one side, listening to the intercom in the corridor as it called her name. ‘That’s me. You need to go.’

Taking a deep breath, Adam blurted out his words as he stood in her way. ‘Marry me. Properly, this time. I understand now why your dad didn’t want us to be together. But there’s no need for secrets anymore.’ Reaching out, he took both her hands, but with a look of sheer horror, Amy snatched them away. What planet was he on? She needed to make things clear between them once and for all.

‘I’m only going to say this once. We are never getting back together. As for getting married . . .’ A cold laugh escaped her lips. ‘That’s the biggest joke I’ve heard all year.’

‘Listen to me,’ Adam said, blocking her exit. ‘There’s no need to be so defensive . . . I know about—’

‘No, you listen to me.’ Amy’s voice grew louder. ‘I was ready to give up my job for you, have kids – the lot. But hey, maybe you did me a favour by sleeping with that stripper. What’s the saying again?’ She paused as she recalled the phrase. ‘A leopard doesn’t change its spots.’

‘I’m not leaving until you listen.’ A thunderous shadow darkened Adam’s face. The intercom blared for the second time, demanding Amy’s presence. She’d had enough of this.

‘You sure about that?’ Pulling open the door, Amy grabbed his arm and dragged him into reception. Heads turned in their direction, curious glances from people waiting to be seen.

‘You’re making a big mistake,’ he said in a loud voice, as Amy pulled him through the double doors to the street outside. She didn’t care who was watching. This time he had pushed her too far.

‘Just remember,’ Adam shouted as she turned to go back inside, ‘you gave me no choice.’

Cheeks burning, she strode back in. Pushing her tag against the door panel, she allowed herself into the confines of the station, away from prying eyes. But every step she took down the darkened corridor made her regret her show of force. Adam had always been unpredictable, but today she had sensed something darker emanating from his presence. He’d said she was making a big mistake. Something told her this was not the end.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Adam walked with his hands deep in his jean pockets, his feet dragging against the pavement as he took the route back to work. He was on autopilot, tormented by Amy’s behaviour and the way she had treated him. His proposal had been meant to defuse the bomb, not make it explode in his face. He had not expected her to recover so quickly from their parting, much less begin seeing someone else.

He kicked a stone, barely noticing the patter of rain against his leather jacket. If only he’d had such clarity of vision when they were engaged. He had always played the field. He could not recall one girlfriend he had remained faithful to, and there had been quite a few. He blamed his bloodlines, believed the stereotypes about young Italian males. His mother had seemed content to turn a blind eye when his father played around. Yet the thought of Amy seeing someone else evoked an anger he could not control. It had taken all his restraint not to slap her across the face when she dragged him outside and treated him with such disrespect.

It seemed Lillian had been telling the truth about Amy seeing DI Donovan. Who’s to say the rest of Lillian’s story wasn’t true too? He ground his back molars at the thought of Amy and her new squeeze laughing at him behind his back. And to publicly humiliate him like that . . . he didn’t owe her anything after the way she had treated him.

Onwards he walked, inhaling the dirty tang of exhaust fumes from the steady stream of passing cars. A bus trundled by as he paused at the traffic lights. He scanned its occupants: shoppers, mums with children too young for school and a pensioner or two. Ordinary people with ordinary lives, so far removed from the likes of Lillian Grimes. His meeting with the psychopathic serial killer played heavily on his mind. He had been shocked to discover Amy’s true parentage, but deep inside he had always sensed she was different. If he was honest, it excited him a little bit. He liked pressing her buttons, drawing out the darkest emotions she tried to keep locked within. But he had pushed her too far with his infidelity and thrown it all away.