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  Hiding the Past

  Event Horizon Book 4

  Sofia Grey

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Sofia Grey

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acelette Press

  V1.0

  Hiding the Past

  (Event Horizon #4)

  When can you trust a maybe-terrorist? And what if you don’t have a choice?

  An ocean of bad blood lies between Juli and Jack and their unexpected and unwanted visitor. But they might be Yanni’s best chance of survival, and in exchange for refuge, he’s offering Juli the antidote for her poisoned father. How can she refuse?

  His story is convincing enough that Juli’s best friend, Maria, wants to help, but keeping Yanni safe is no easy task. His secrets put everyone at risk, and his story changes everything Maria thought she knew. The past is hidden for a reason.

  Soon it’s not just Juli’s father fighting for his life.

  Other Books in the Series

  Lying in Shadows (Event Horizon #1)

  Two Nights in Houston (An Event Horizon Novella)

  Covering the Lies (Event Horizon #2)

  Shattering the Trust (Event Horizon #3)

  Author’s Note:

  This book is set in Britain, and follows British English spelling and usage

  Huge thanks go to my Acelette partners.

  Prologue

  Juli knew three things about Yanni:

  1.He was darkly, dangerously attractive

  2.He was a complete psychopath

  3.Her husband wanted to kill him

  What she didn’t know—and never expected—was that he’d come looking for her.

  Again.

  Tuesday 18 May

  Chapter One

  Juli smiled when she heard the kitchen door opening. Jack, her husband—God, had they been married a month already?—was early. She tugged the belt of her bathrobe tight around her waist, ran her fingers through her wet hair, and continued on her way downstairs.

  She needed coffee. Stat.

  “Jack?” she called as she went.

  There was a click of a cupboard door closing, and no reply from Jack. She was instantly on red alert. Was she being burgled? Where the hell did she leave her phone? Downstairs, most likely. Jetlag wasn’t her friend, and it felt as though her head was stuffed with cotton wool.

  Think. When did she last have her phone? She plugged it in to charge while she was in the kitchen, before coming upstairs for a shower.

  “In here,” replied a man’s voice. It was slightly muffled but familiar.

  It couldn’t be. She froze.

  “Julien, I need your help.”

  Juli shook her head. Did she have water in her ears? She had to be wrong.

  Was this a bad dream? Perhaps she’d wake and find herself dozing in a chair at the hospital, slumped by her father’s side.

  On silent feet, she tiptoed down the last stairs, across the hallway, and into the kitchen. This had to be her imagination running riot.

  The man leaning against the counter was real. He bent over, right hand clamped to his side, blood oozing between his fingers.

  Yanni. The arms dealer-slash-terrorist who kidnapped her four months earlier. The man who convinced her that Jack was his hired hit-man, and then tried to persuade Juli to work for him. Lie after lie had tumbled from Yanni’s lips, and she’d swallowed them. Not again.

  Her feet could have been glued to the floor. This was every nightmare, coming true at once. Her heart pounded so hard that it hurt, and black spots danced before her vision. For a horrible moment, she thought she was going to pass out.

  His dark-eyed gaze met hers, and he gave her a faint smile. “I’m the only one who can save your father,” he said. “Don’t call the police.”

  A dozen questions flashed through her head. She forced herself to ask the most obvious. “How do you know about my father?”

  Yanni shifted position, winced, and spoke in a tired voice. “He’s been poisoned. I can tell you which antidote you need.”

  It had to be another lie. “Why are you telling me this? What are you doing here?” Her hands shook. She shoved them into her pockets.

  “I need your help. No hospitals, no police. Get me patched up and help me lie low for a few days. You’re the only one I can trust.”

  “No.”

  He raised his sticky, bloody hand, and she stopped speaking. The blood surged, and he quickly replaced his fingers, digging them deep into his side.

  “I helped you escape, Juli,” he said. “We were being hunted, and I made sure you were safe. I would never hurt you.”

  His warped version of events took her breath away. Literally. She wheezed when she found her voice. “Those men? They weren’t hunting us. They were trying to rescue me.”

  “They would have killed me, if they’d caught me.”

  Her mind flashed back. A narrow gravel track on the mountainside. Rain lashing down. The sounds of men chasing them. She’d hurt her ankle and couldn’t walk. She’d been terrified. Panicking. And then Yanni was carrying her, running through the trees. In that moment, she trusted him.

  Could she trust him again?

  If he was telling the truth—and it was a massive, monumental if—then she needed him. And somehow, she had to keep him apart from her husband.

  Yanni groaned and slumped to the floor. What the hell happened to him? Her knowledge of first aid was limited, but she knew she had to stem the bleeding. He needed medical attention. Fast.

  And she needed to call in a favour.

  The tea towel was clean, as was the hand towel. She dashed forward and snatched them both up. Juli wadded up the towels and pressed them to his side. Jesus. She hated the sight of blood. Always had. Passing out wasn’t an option, though. She had to get help. But who could she ask?

  Someone with enough money to make a private doctor available, and ensure no questions were asked.

  One name leapt to mind. Charlie Jones. She knew he was in London from the gossip in the newspaper.

  There was her phone, within grabbing distance. With one hand pressing the already-red towel to Yanni’s skin, she held her phone with the other. She scrolled through her contacts list and searched for Charlie’s number. She found it and hit Call.

  It rang in her ear. Please let him pick up. Please let him be able to help.

  “Hello?”

  Juli huffed a sigh of relief when he answered. “Charlie Jones? This is Julien Pascal.”

  She could imagine him mentally sifting through his memories, to figure out who she was. They’d only met a few times, but indirectly, she’d saved his life.

  “Juli? How are you?”

  He sounded cautious, as he was entitled to be. He was a world-famous rock star, while she was a scientist. Their paths shouldn’t ever collide, but they had.

  “You said, if I ever needed help, to call you.” The words tumbled out, and she forced herself to speak more slowly. “Well, now I do. It’s urgent, or I wouldn’t ask. I’m back in London, and I’ve an old friend staying with me. He had an accident—he’s been attacked—but he’s refusing to go to hospital. I need a doctor for hi
m, urgently. One who won’t ask any difficult questions.” She swallowed hard. “And I need a place for him to stay for a few days.”

  The silence down the line was deafening. Did he hang up on her?

  “You need a doctor?”

  She heard the surprise in Charlie’s gravelly voice. This was hopeless. He wouldn’t do anything. “It’s for my friend. Can you help me? Please?” If he said no, she had to call an ambulance and make up a story about Yanni’s identity. What if they fingerprinted him? Was that a possibility, or had she been watching too many movies?

  “Give me your address, Juli. I’ll get someone there as soon as I can.”

  *

  Jack’s quickest option had been a flight into Manchester. Now he strode through the concourse, heading for the domestic terminal and a connecting flight to London, Heathrow. He had time to send a text to Juli.

  Hey. I’m in your home town, hoping to land at Heathrow within the next few hours. Be strong, I’ll see you soon. x

  He checked the time and forced his tired brain to focus. If he made the next flight, he could be in London and with Juli as early as1 p.m. His heart went out to her. It was hard receiving the news of her father’s collapse, but to make it worse, Jack was on assignment and couldn’t get away immediately. He was busy, taking part in a security training op in the New England mountains, and cell-phone coverage was limited at best. By the time he got the news, Juli was already back in the U.K.

  He expected her to reply to his text straight away, and kept checking his phone, in case he missed her. She must be at the hospital, with her phone switched off. He had time to grab a coffee. As he waited to be served, the complimentary newspaper caught his attention. A picture of rock stars Sylvie and Alex, broad smiles across their faces. Another of Sylvie, proudly showing her pregnancy bump. She must be due soon.

  Jack racked his brains to recall their last conversation, at his and Juli’s wedding. It was only a month ago. Sylvie said the baby was due in early July. Yeah, he remembered now. He made a joke about Independence Day. Juli’s father was there, of course. Yves looked the picture of health as he made his speech and welcomed Jack to the Pascal family. It was hard to believe he now lay fighting for his life.

  Juli’s reply arrived as Jack queued to go through Security.

  Hi. Call me when you land. I’ll come for you. Missed you so much! J xxx

  *

  Juli made Yanni as comfortable as she could on the kitchen floor, wadded the hole in his side with tea towels, and slipped a cushion under his head. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his pulse thready. Was calling Charlie for help the right thing to do? Why didn’t she call an ambulance?

  Because there was a horrible possibility that Yanni was right. Papa might have been poisoned.

  The doctors at the hospital were perplexed. A bad virus, they thought. One that had Papa vomiting and writhing in pain, barely conscious and rambling incoherently. Juli would have preferred they admitted to having no idea. Her father collapsed a couple of days ago, and his condition worsened by the hour. Juli didn’t want to leave him, didn’t like to leave her mum alone, but her mother insisted that Juli go home for an hour to freshen up, before Jack got here.

  What if Juli hadn’t listened? If she’d stayed with her mum, she wouldn’t have been here to see Yanni. He might have died of blood loss on her kitchen floor.

  If Charlie didn’t get here in the next ten minutes, she was dialling 999.

  Common sense yelled at her. Yanni was wanted by the police and Interpol, and probably several other law-enforcement agencies around the world, if the stories were true. Her intuition had a strong voice too. He manipulated her, but he hadn’t hurt her. He’d looked after her. Made her feel safe.

  All the same, while she waited, she looked through Yanni’s pockets and satisfied herself that he carried no weapons. He didn’t have much on him. No phone, keys, or passport. Just a butter-soft, aged, leather wallet.

  She examined the sparse contents. A French driving licence, in the name Alain Auberge, a credit card in the same name, and a small amount of English money. He also carried an Oyster card—an electronic ticket used on London public transport—so he must be a regular traveller in London.

  Finally, there was a dog-eared photograph. It looked old, the surface pitted and marked with fingerprints. The smiling young woman bore a superficial resemblance to Juli. Long, dark curls framed a small face. She looked lively and seemed to be smiling at someone to the side of the photographer. Faded ink was scrawled across the bottom. Love, Ana x.

  This was Yanni’s late wife. He talked to Juli about her. Yanni said that Ana was killed in front of him.

  Juli slid the picture back inside the wallet. It didn’t seem right, to touch it.

  Her mind raced in circles, unable to settle on any one question. What had happened to Yanni? How did he know where she lived? How did he know she’d be here? How did he know about Papa? Where had he been for the past four months?

  And what the hell was she going to do about him?

  To Juli’s relief, Charlie arrived a few minutes later, a grey-haired man in tow, carrying a black bag that looked straight out of a medical TV drama. Charlie introduced him as Doctor Jeffries.

  The amount of blood on the floor and across Juli’s white bathrobe terrified her. While the doctor examined Yanni, she fled upstairs to dress, and dumped her soiled robe in the laundry basket.

  She hurried downstairs and found Charlie waiting for her in the hall.

  His normally smiling face was serious, and he looked shocked. “Christ, Juli. What the hell is going on? He needs a hospital.”

  Her knees were trembling, so she sat on the bottom stair and gazed up at Charlie. “I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

  Brown eyes glared back at her. “You said you needed somewhere for him to stay, so I guess you meant my apartment, but you won’t tell me why?” He studied her for a moment. “Is this a dodgy ex of yours? Or is this something to do with Jack?”

  “No. I told you, he’s an old friend. Not an ex. Jack doesn’t know yet, but he will. I’ll tell him soon.”

  Charlie stared at her, his lips pursed. It felt beyond weird, to have a rock star standing in her hallway and doing her a giant favour, but the previous hour had been crazy. What was one more dose of madness?

  Charlie’s handsome features ensured he was readily recognised, his face appearing in the gossip columns on a weekly basis. Juli hoped nobody saw him coming in here.

  The doctor appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on a towel.

  She was glad of the interruption.

  “I’ve done as much as I can,” Doctor Jeffries said. “Ideally, he needs a transfusion, but if that’s not an option, a few days of absolute bedrest will have to suffice. You’ll need to keep an eye on the wound as it heals, to make sure there’s no infection. Is he staying here?”

  With one final, furious glare at her, Charlie turned back to the doctor. “We’re taking him back to my place.” His gaze flicked back to Juli, any friendliness long gone. “I guess you’re coming too. Does your friend have a name?”

  She swallowed. “Alain. He’s called Alain.”

  Charlie said he’d help the doctor load Yanni into the back of the car. “Follow us there, right?”

  Juli nodded.

  She couldn’t leave the kitchen like this, with blood all over the floor. She grabbed disinfectant wipes and did a rapid clean-up. Bloodied tea towels went straight into the washing machine. She’d add her bathrobe later, and wash them all at once. She only had time for the most cursory of checks around the kitchen, before following Charlie in her rental car. She’d have to make a proper job of it later.

  *

  Jack hitched his bag onto his shoulder and inched forward in the line for boarding. The PA speaker announced the last call for his flight, and he glanced at his watch. Damn, but this was taking forever. Or maybe he was just tired and worried about Juli.

  Behind him, footsteps clattered on the floor
and a woman said, “Thank you so much. I didn’t think I was going to make it.”

  He knew that voice. He turned around and saw Daisy, pink cheeked and fanning herself with a magazine, a carry-on bag on the floor at her side. She was the nanny of Alex and Sylvie’s foster son, Callum. Six months ago, when the band had been touring New Zealand, Jack and his buddy Tanner were Callum’s bodyguards.

  “Hey.” He adopted a stern tone. “Are you the reason this flight is delayed?”

  Her eyes widened, a moment before a huge smile broke over her face. “Jack. Oh my God. Hello. What are you doing here? Oh wait. Is this something to do with Juli’s dad? Sylvie told me. Is he any better?” She gave him a hug. “So good to see you. You’re so brown. Have you been away?”

  Stepping back, she gave him a mock glare. Such a fierce look, for a woman who barely came up to his shoulder. “The flight isn’t late. Well, just a couple of minutes. I only just made it to Manchester in time. I had to leave my car on the short-stay car park, and it’s going to cost me an arm and a leg in parking fees.”

  She looked so woebegone, he couldn’t help smiling.

  Jack liked Daisy. He had what the Brits would call a soft spot for her, and travelling to Heathrow with her would be no hardship.

  “Yeah, I’m flying down to be with Juli and her mom,” he said. “Her dad’s no better, by the sound of it. How about you? What’s with the sudden trip?”

  The pink on Daisy’s cheeks darkened, and she looked away. “I’m going to see Charlie. It’s a last-minute thing.”

  “You guys okay?” Jack neither liked nor disliked Charlie. The rocker had a history of behaving like a giant ass, and the idea of Daisy getting hurt didn’t sit well with Jack.