CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

It was Saturday before Myra went to see Horace. Hank wanted to go with her, but she didn't want to upset Horace any more than necessary and persuaded Hank to remain at home. She left Samantha with him and took only her purse in which she had placed the sheet of paper with the DNA test results on it. She dreaded the encounter and as she travelled to Horace's apartment by cab, her stomach knotted up and she struggled not to bite her nails.

When she rang the bell, Horace answered abruptly.

"Yes?"

"It's Myra," she said.

"What d'ya want?"

"I want to speak to you about Sam."

"Come up." He buzzed her in and a couple of minutes later she was at his apartment door.

"Hello, Horace," she said as he let her in.

"How's Hank?" Horace said sarcastically. "Workin' ya hard, is he?"

"I told ya, I ain't workin' for him," Myra said. "It ain't like before."

"No? So how is it then? Don't tell me you two are together," sneered Horace.

"I didn't come here to talk about that," Myra told him. "I wanna talk about Sam."

"Well, good, 'cause I think it's about time we sorted out custody," Horace said. "I been lookin' into it. Seems it ain't gonna cost as much as I thought to get a lawyer to deal with this."

"Horace…" began Myra.

"Let me finish!" he snapped. Myra's eyes widened and she fell silent. Horace glared at her, clenching his fists and breathing hard. "I want Sam to come and live with me," he said through gritted teeth.

"Horace, that ain't…." Myra began again.

"That's what's gonna happen!" interrupted Horace. "I ain't havin' my daughter grow up with a slut for a mother and a cokehead maniac for a step-father!"

Myra gaped at him, speechless for a long moment. She had expected him to be upset and angry, but he sounded so vicious and unlike himself that she was shocked.

"He ain't her step-father, Horace, he's her father," she said quietly.

"What?" Horace took a couple of steps forward, his jaw twitching slightly and his eyes black with temper.

"Hank is Sam's father. I got a DNA test done." Myra pulled the paper out of her purse and held it out to him. "Look."

Horace dropped his eyes from her face to the document in her hand. He took the folded sheet of paper and opened it out, scanning the details on it.

"I'm sorry, Horace," Myra whispered.

"You're sorry?" Horace crumpled the paper slowly in one hand and dropped it on the floor. Then suddenly his hand shot out and struck Myra hard across the face. She was so stunned and surprised that she didn't even try to get out of the way. He hit her with his palm right across the cheekbone and pain exploded through the side of her head. She staggered backwards, bumping into a nearby chair and almost fell, clutching her face. She tasted blood and realised she had bitten the inside of her cheek. Tears filled her eyes.

"Horace, ya hit me," she said in disbelief.

"I…I…" stammered Horace, backing away from her. "I'm sorry, Myra." He shoved his hands into his pockets, guiltily avoiding her eyes. "Still, I suppose it's the kind of treatment you're used to."

"No," she said. "It ain't. Hank may have done some awful things in the past, but he never hit me. Goodbye, Horace." She pulled the door open and stepped out of the apartment.

Someone was just getting off the elevator and she hurried into it and pressed the 'down' button. She leaned against the wall of the car as it began to move, only realising she was holding her breath when it reached street level. She breathed out hard and walked out into the street, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering. She began to head back towards town, brushing away tears every so often, tucking her head down and trying to avoid the curious glances of passers-by. It was only when she caught sight of herself in the mirrored strip at the side of a store window that she discovered it wasn't her tears people had been looking at, but her face. Already a deep bruise was appearing across her cheekbone and it was obvious she had been struck.

"Oh, God," she said under her breath. "Hank's gonna go mad." Rather than go straight back to the club, she turned off the main street and made her way towards the park. It was mostly deserted and she sank onto a bench in relief, pulling her shaking legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees. Her heart thumped and she felt sick. She still couldn't believe Horace, who wouldn't hurt a fly, had hit her. Hank would be furious and probably go steaming over there to tackle Horace and end up getting himself arrested again.

Myra sat there alone worrying for some time, her face throbbing, wondering what to do for the best. She would have to get back to the club before six o'clock to take care of Sam.

"Myra?" Someone sat down on the bench beside her suddenly. "Are ya alright?"

She looked up reluctantly and met Sully's anxious gaze. His eyes widened when he saw the bruise.

"What happened to ya?" he asked. He turned away for a second. "Michaela! Over here!"

"Oh no," Myra whispered. She could see Michaela in the distance throwing a ball to Brian. She left the little boy now and began to hurry over.

"Myra? What happened?" Michaela sat down the other side of her. "Did Hank hurt you?"

"It wasn't Hank," said Myra.

"Then who? He's not making you work for him again, is he?" Michaela asked in horror. "I thought you said you were going to college?"

"No!" Myra exclaimed. "No. Horace hit me."

"Horace?" echoed both Michaela and Sully in astonishment.

"I…uh…I told him he ain't Sam's father," Myra said.

"Oh dear," sighed Michaela. "He must have been very upset, but even so, that's no excuse to hit you."

"Where's Samantha?" Sully asked suddenly.

"Hank's got her. He's gonna hit the roof," said Myra. "When he sees my face, I mean. He'll go after Horace. They'll lock him up again, he's still on parole." Her tears spilled over again and she put her hands over her face. Michaela slid an arm around her shoulders.

"We'll come back with you," she said. "You should get some ice on that bruise too, it'll help." She got to her feet and called to Brian who was now kicking his ball around with another small boy.

"Aww, Mom, can't I stay longer?" he begged. "Jimmy's Dad's right over there." He pointed to a tall blond man who was watching the game. The man raised his hand.

"We'll be here another hour," he called out. "I'm happy to watch Brian."

"Thank you," Michaela said. "We won't be too long."

Both Michaela and Sully accompanied Myra back to the Gold Nugget and the three of them rode up in the elevator. When they stepped out onto the landing Hank had already opened the door to the apartment.

"Christ, Myra, what the hell happened?" he demanded. "Did Horace do that?"

Myra nodded miserably.

"That bastard! He's gonna regret…!" began Hank, heading towards the elevator.

"Hank, don't!" cried Myra, stepping in front of him. Sully joined her.

"It ain't worth it, Hank, do ya wanna go back to jail?" he said.

"Mind your own damned business!" growled Hank. "Get outta my way!"

"Please, listen to me," Myra begged, thrusting her hands out and planting them on his chest. "I love ya. And me and Sam both need ya. Think about her; your daughter."

Hank hesitated, looking down into Myra's desperate face. Then he turned away and slammed his fist into the wall beside the elevator door. The surface was brick and it tore the skin off his knuckles, making him swear viciously and clutch his injured hand, blood oozing between his fingers. Myra put her hand on his arm and he turned towards her.

"I'm sorry," he groaned, putting his arm around her. He led her into the apartment and Michaela and Sully followed them.

"You'd better let me look at that, Hank," Michaela said. "Sully, will you get some ice from the freezer for Myra's face?"

"Sure." Sully went into the kitchen.

"Myra, do you have bandages and antiseptic?"

"In my bathroom," Myra said, pointing. Michaela fetched the required items and sat beside Hank on the sofa while she cleaned and bandaged his hand, pointing out that he was lucky he hadn't broken it. Meanwhile Sully filled a plastic bag with ice, wrapped it in a cloth and gave it to Myra to hold over her throbbing cheekbone.

Michaela then took the opportunity to have a quick look at Samantha and a little cuddle before she and Sully left.

"Ya sure you're gonna be alright?" Sully asked meaningfully, eyeing Hank as they headed for the door.

"Yeah," Hank nodded. "Thanks."

Sully nodded in return and followed Michaela out to the elevator as they set off to collect Brian from the park.