41. Zane

Chapter forty-one

Zane

M y heart races as I hold Jasmine tightly in my arms, tears streaming down my face at the thought of losing her. But she's not gone, she's alive and safe, hidden away from danger. Unlike Alex, who was left to fend for himself. I can feel Marcus' anger radiating off of him, but I also understand his frustration. I wonder whose idea it was for Jasmine to hide in the chute.

"Marcus, Jasmine didn't know the chutes were a means of escape or would fit anything more than laundry or a small child. She'll tell us whose idea it was when she's ready," I plead with him.

"It was Alex's," Jasmine sobs, still mourning for the boy upstairs.

"I can't believe he would do that," Marcus grumbles.

"Yes," Jasmine nods, determined to defend the boy. "I begged him to come with me and hide, even if it meant sitting on my head."

"What? That wouldn't have helped anyone," Marcus scoffs.

"I would have done anything to protect him," Jasmine insists through her tears. "But I couldn't climb back up once I was in the chute. And when I tried calling out to him, he couldn't hear me."

"That's because the chute is designed for silence," I confirm sadly.

"Alex hid under the bed," Jasmine continues, a mix of pride and sadness in her voice. "Desmond teased him about it being the first place anyone would look, but I think that was part of Alex's plan. He knew Desmond would find him there. He knew it would be the last place he looked too, because he stopped looking after he found Alex. He didn't find me because he stopped looking."

Alex knew about the alarm system, but I'm sure it wasn't something Jasmine was concerned about. Alex knew help was coming, and his brave actions were to stall Desmond from finding Jasmine. "My brave little grandson."

"He was so brave," Jasmine agrees.

"Fine. I'll take him being brave over you being a coward," Marcus reluctantly agrees. He moves closer, his arms wrapping around us. He needs me more than he's ever done in his life, so I pull my arm from embracing Jasmine, to rest it on his shoulders.

"We have everyone out looking for Desmond. We'll find him." I promise. And I won't leave her until we do.

"Doctor wants a word," Lenny calls from his visual at the door. He's not so emotionally involved in all of this. As far as he's concerned, Alex and Jasmine are both alive, so our place is out there, helping find Desmond. He doesn't realise we need to be here in the heart of the cartel, ready to head out in any direction when Desmond is found.

"Show him in," I call.

"Lola, sorry. I thought we had Michael." We should have Michael, this is far more important than watching Ronan, but I smile courteously. It isn't Michael, but our second choice to call, for the rare times when Michael is too busy to take our money. Lola isn't as experienced, but she is just as loyal.

"I can take you in to see him, and explain my diagnosis there. I'm not overly concerned about him."

We head up to the boy's room; the curtains are drawn, with two nurses working in the dim light. Alex is in his bed, tucked up under his covers. He isn't curled up sleeping or sprawled out haphazardly after sleep claims him mid-adventure. He's lying flat on his back, limbs straight and still.

"His injuries aren't too severe, despite the impression the bruising gives," Lola explains. "Most of it is superficial and will heal over the next week. The one we are worried about is the bump in his hairline. He has a significant concussion, probably as a result of being shaken, which is the cause of his unconsciousness."

I step to the side as a portable X-ray machine and scanner are moved to the corner of his room.

"I assume you'll want him cared for here?" Lola questions.

"No. He has to go to hospital," Jasmine gasps.

"He can't." I take her hand in mine. "What would we say? A man broke in and shook him so he could find his friend's killer?"

My words are a little harsh and result in more sobbing from the worn-out woman.

"I promise he will get the best care here, maybe even better, and it will be private, around-the-clock specialised care." Lola rests a hand on Jasmine's arm. "I'll wait downstairs. I'll have my nurses draw up shifts so someone is with him night and day."

"Thank you." Money is no issue here; I'll pay whatever it takes to ensure Alex's very best care.

Marcus heads towards his son, lifting a limp hand in his. He takes care to mind the thin oxygen tube as he strokes Alex's pale face. Jasmine steps forward to join him but pauses, her eyes fixed on the laundry chute that had only saved one of them.

"If Desmond hadn't found Alex, he would have kept looking and he would have found both of you. You'd be dead, and Alex would still be in this condition."

"He shouldn't have been in this situation at all." Jasmine protests. "I put all of you at risk."

"We had no idea Desmond was capable of this, and I don't know his motives behind it. Going after you doesn't fix anything he was getting from Andrew."

"That's true." Marcus frowns like he's not given all this any thought. "Why didn't he just come forward and ask for money? God knows Edward pays for problems to disappear every day."

Edward has so much money that he can afford to use it to make his problems disappear. Desmond could have taken his information to Edward or even to me, and I'll have run it past the boss for him.

"I don't think this is about money," Jasmine mutters.

What else is there? Love?

Desmond didn't love Andrew, they both loved women. I'm open to all sexualities, but from my experience, the gay men in my community have a very different view of the dancers who work around us. So if they didn't love each other, who did they love?

If Andrew was propositioning Jasmine, who awaited her at the film set?

Desmond!

Could he have set the film scene situation so he could get time with Jasmine?

"He's not coming after you to kill you. He wants you for himself."