Love in the Dark (LarssonSiblingsSeries#1)

CHAPTER ELEVEN - EDWARD

EDWARD

I do my research. Delilah lives in the Burlington flat complex near the fishing docks, which is on the rougher side of town. It's strange, because I should know this complex well, seeing as though my dad owns it, but this must've slipped through the radar, because never would he make his tenants pay for this dump.

There's twelve flats throughout the building, most of them using towels as curtains, and there's bits of old furniture and two mattresses by the entrance. I make my way towards the back of the building to see broken bottles, needles and more furniture.

It's a real state.

I head back to my car in fear of being mugged by the gangs of kids crowding around the park benches over the fence, and call up my dad. It rings through to Ginette, his long-time assistant first before she puts me through to him.

"Son?" he says, the sounds of his fingers hitting the keyboard coming down the line.

I shove the key into my ignition. "Yeah, hey, dad. Er, you know that complex you own near Sidney street?"

He hums. "Yes."

I stare up to the top floor where I know Delilah lives, thinking that it looks like they're the only ones who care for their part. There's those wooden blinds, and a flower box full of brightly coloured petals outside the windowsill. "Have you checked it over recently?"

"No. That's someone else's job, why?" he replies, accented words sounding harsh to my ears.

I know that he doesn't mean his tone. "Well, I'm here right now, and by the looks of it, you need to shut it down. Is it possible to move everyone to your new building on Rucker Avenue?"

"Yes, I can do that," he says, never second-guessing my decisions.

I press the locks to secure the car and start the engine when the group of kids from the park start to climb the fence. "Flat number ten."

Knowing Delilah's flat number doesn't sound as weird in my head as it does when I say it out loud.

Dad is typing again. "Yes, what about them?"

"Can they be moved to the Riverbank?" I reply, starting to reverse out of the car space.

He clears his throat. "Yes, but the rent is going to be way higher. I won't put them in a situation that they can't afford."

"I'll foot the extra rent. Let them pay their usual," I say, heading towards the market place to go pick up some fresh food because my fridge is bare.

The line goes quiet.

My foot hits the peddle on the dual carriageway. "You still there, dad?"

"I'm still here."

I frown at his silence. "You're quiet."

"I'm confused. Is there something that you need to tell me, Edward?" That last part is in Dutch.

I grip the steering wheel hard enough to feel the tiny grooves in the leather. "They need our help. I just want to do this, okay? Don't ask questions. It's my money."

He's chuckling now. "You're a grown-up. I'm not telling you what to do with your money. I'm a bit concerned, because it's not like you to be so charitable."

I'm probably confusing the hell out him, because, yes, I'm no humanitarian, but this feels necessary.

"Gee, don't mince your words, dad," I reply on a short laugh.

The sigh he lets out is so light-hearted it's verging on teasing. "Where are you headed? I can hear your tyres."

I signal to pull into the carpark that's already jam-packed because of the Wednesday markets. It's a real thing around here with the fruit and vegetable stalls, bakers, butchers, and clothing stores. All packed into one huge tent.