Read True Colours (The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2) for Free Online

hall, I’m half-expecting the lift to close behind me, to be trapped.  But it stays open.
    ‘I’ll wait out here,’ I tell Lucy.
    ‘Fair enough.’
    She fiddles with the key, slips it into the lock and disappears inside the flat.  And I wait, listening to the jittering of my breath.
    ‘Maya, you’ve got to see this.’  Her voice is distant now.  Muted.
    ‘What?’ I call back.
    She reappears in the doorway, her face bright with excitement.
    ‘He’s hung your painting.  It looks amazing.’
    I shake my head and swallow hard.  The picture of Limmingham.  I didn’t get a chance to get a last look on Friday night.  Ian Boyd’s arrival saw to that.
    ‘There’s nobody here,’ she grins.
    And what harm could it do, my brain niggles.  Go on.  Take a quick peek, say goodbye and draw a line under everything.  And while you’re at it, drop off the necklace.  That’s called closure.
    ‘Come on.’  Grabbing me by the arm, Lucy hauls me into the apartment and my stomach lurches. On full alert, I edge my way through the kitchen.  It’s eerily silent but Lucy was right: there’s no one here.  He really has gone to Surrey.  Either that or he’s lurking at the Tate, waiting to take a chance that I’m not about to give.  Inching further, I notice the handbag, perched on the counter top, the very place where Dan first kissed me and lured me into his world.  I touch the bag, place the little black box on the counter, open it up and take out the necklace.  Watching the tiny sweet pea flicker in the light, I think of the jar of sweet pea flowers, of sitting in the kitchen garden with Dan by my side, and my ridiculous vision of a happy ever after.  Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and I blink them back.  No crying, I tell myself.  Not now.  Not here.  You’ve made a decision and now you’re going to stick to it.  After all, it’s the only way to keep your sanity.  Holding the necklace in my hand, I say a quiet goodbye and lay it gently on the worktop.
    ‘There it is.’  Lucy’s voice snatches me out of my dream world.  Unusually serious, she waves a hand towards the living area.
    Following the direction of her wave, I turn and catch sight of it: hanging above the fireplace, the colours shimmering with life, it’s my painting of the woods in Limmingham.  It looks so different to when it was propped up in my bedroom, or on display at Slaters.  I take another step forwards, amazed by the way the light catches the branches.  I’m about to take another step when I hear the door slam.  Swivelling round on my heels, I find myself alone.
    ‘Lucy?’
    No answer.
    ‘Lucy!’
    Nothing.
    A whirlwind of panic spirals into life.  I stumble back to the kitchen, my eyes raking pointlessly across the cupboards, the counter, the sink.  And then some tiny, still fully functioning region of my brain registers what’s just happened.  That was Lucy slamming the front door.
    Racing over to it, I tug at the handle, but nothing moves.
    ‘Lucy!’  I’d lean down and call through the letterbox but there is no letterbox, just a solid mass of wood.  I run a hand over it.  ‘What the fuck’s going on?’ I shout.  ‘I can’t open the door.’
    ‘I know.’  Lucy’s muffled voice comes from the other side.  ‘I’ve locked you in.’
    I gape at the door, my thoughts reeling.  Locked me in?  But why has she locked me in?  And then my brain lands on the only possible answer.
    Shit.
    Resting my forehead against the wood, I close my eyes, desperately reminding myself to breathe.  The stupid bloody woman.  She’s come up with a last-minute, hair-brained plan to get me back with Dan.  Of all the ridiculous ideas she’s ever had, this has to take the biscuit.
    ‘Lucy, for fuck’s sake!  Let me out!’
    ‘Sorry, Maya.’
    I give a start.  That certainly wasn’t just Lucy’s voice.  In fact, it was Clive’s voice, muffled too.  He’s here?  Blood pounds through my brain.  I’m