He couldn’t do much about his appearance, though he’d let his hair grow. None of this was probably necessary but it was impossible to be too careful. He’d liked to have checked his emails but he didn’t want another link to this area and to Conrad. Maybe his name did remain unknown to Phoenix. He could only hope that was the case because he didn’t want Conrad used as a lever. Which was part of the reason he was leaving. He called Deefor back to the car and as the dog bounded toward him, he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Archer expected the car to pull into the car park but it carried on in the direction of Conrad’s place.
Didn’t have to mean anything, could be someone going to the other property, but Archer shifted onto high alert. He grabbed the dog, pushed him inside the car and slammed the door before he ran up onto the dunes and looked back. Shit. He yanked his phone from his pocket.
“Miss me already?” Conrad asked in a cool voice.
“Listen. There’s a black car just pulling up in your drive. The guys in it are trouble.”
“Yeah, well so are you. Why don’t—”
“Shut the fuck up and listen. Don’t go back to the house. Whereabouts are you?”
“Where we walked to yesterday.”
“There’s a cave in that headland. Find it. Crawl inside to the ledge at the back. It’s dry and it stays dry. Stay there until I come and get you.”
“I’m not in the mood for hide-and-seek.”
Archer tightened his grip on the phone. “Stop fucking arguing. These guys have got fucking guns. Get in there now.” He took a deep breath. “Please.”
Conrad didn’t answer.
“I’m not lying to you. This isn’t a game. Go and fucking hide.”
“Okay.”
He had no idea whether they had guns or not. It was possible they were from some happy clappy religious organization wanting to point out the way to heaven, or the route to Armageddon, or maybe even Conrad’s colleagues up from London on a surprise visit, but Archer’s survival instincts said not. He drove out of the car park and headed for the village beyond the headland.
Conrad stuffed his phone in his pocket, glanced down the empty beach and then at the rocky headland. What the hell? Guns? Part of him wanted to laugh off what Archer had said, but that niggle in his gut, that awareness Archer was more than he seemed sent him toward the rocks.
He had to drop to all fours to get over them which did his back no good and he still worried about slipping, breaking his leg or worse. He couldn’t see the cave at first, wondered how the hell Archer had known it was here, then spotted the opening in the rock. He hauled himself up and crawled inside.
And immediately wanted to crawl out again. Shit. It was narrow, dark, cold and wet, and stank of the sea. But he kept crawling, over sand at first, then pebbles, checking how much room he had above his head until he came up against a wall of wet rock. So how is this safe? Conrad slid his hands up and they settled on a ledge. A few moments later, he was lying on a dry rock shelf. A band of light showed him where the entrance was, only a few yards away, and he felt marginally better.
He hoped like hell Archer wasn’t doing anything stupid but something told him Archer wasn’t doing the right thing which would be to call the police. Which was what Conrad could do. He took out his phone. No signal—what a surprise—but the light from the screen reassured.
The longer he lay there, the more annoyed he became. For all he knew this was some warped game, but there had been something in Archer’s voice that told him to be cautious. He pulled his hat out of his coat pocket along with his gloves and put them on. Archer said he’d come so he’d wait. He was cold, exhausted and uncomfortable, and cross with himself. Why hadn’t he called the police before he’d come into the cave? Why didn’t he go outside and do it now? What if people were on the beach looking for him? He hesitated.
The tide was coming in fast. He could hear it crashing on the rocks and shivers of fear snaked down his spine, trickles of iced water chilling him. If he stayed in here any longer, he wouldn’t be able to get out. Archer wasn’t coming. The cave would fill and he’d drown. What if the cave collapsed? The coast was being eroded daily.
Conrad battered back the panic. The cave was fine. He wasn’t going to drown. The rock he lay on was dry. The sea wouldn’t rise that far. Unless it was an exceptionally high tide. Oh hell. Water was rushing in now, making a sound like a huge washing machine, agitating Conrad before being sucked back out. The cave was getting darker and he took out his phone and used to it to give him some light. Crawl out while you still can. Before the roof collapses. Except it was too late.
He began to shiver, pissed off with himself and with Archer. What the hell had possessed him to crawl in here? Could he swim out if the water did fill the cave? Should he try now? His face rested against dry rock. If he didn’t panic, he’d be safe. Conrad closed his eyes and imagined he was somewhere else. In that room in his house in London, playing a game with Malachi.
Malachi.
It was only gradually he’d come to realize he wasn’t missing Malachi as much as he was his dreams of a future with him. Yes, he still thought about him, but he’d noticed those thoughts fading. There had been a time when alone in bed at night, all he’d been able to think about had been Malachi’s smell, how he felt and the sounds he made when he came. Gradually, Conrad’s hold on them had weakened, his ability to jerk off to those thoughts becoming less satisfying. For a while he’d wallowed in his misery, letting memories smother him in a suffocating blanket. He’d known he needed a new guy in his life. Then he’d been hit by the car.
Archer is not the guy I need.
He’d made a mistake and allowed Archer to let him think there was a future where he might find happiness, because losing Malachi hadn’t destroyed that hope, but the bastard had walked out before anything had ever really begun. Conrad hadn’t missed the fact that Archer had told him virtually nothing about himself. Not that Conrad had opened his heart but he might have if he’d thought there’d be any point.
His mind began to backtrack. He thought the surfing incident had been genuine but that didn’t mean Archer hadn’t been employed by whoever was trying to kill him. But Archer was right. Conrad would already be dead. Unless Archer wanted it to look like an accident? Sea cave. Drowned. Conrad groaned. This was what came of thinking too much.
A wave splashed against the rock and sprayed his face. Conrad turned the other way. He didn’t trust. It wasn’t in his nature, but the rock he lay on was dry. He felt he was in a safe place, that Archer had ensured he was safe. What he didn’t know was who the hell Archer really was.
Archer bribed an elderly guy to not only let him put his car in his garage but also to take care of Deefor for twenty-four hours. He told him he was hiding from his ex, who he suspected of trying to poison his dog. The man had shuddered with horror. Archer didn’t think he’d be gone so long but if anything bad happened, at least Deefor had someone looking after him. For another twenty quid, the guy drove him back to the car park at Shennan Sands and from there Archer went over the dunes and onto the beach to approach Conrad’s cottage from the rear.
The black car was parked in front of the property so the guys were still there. Archer had left no trace of his presence. He’d made the bed upstairs and cleaned the bathroom. There were no “two” of anything to give him away. Why were they still here? Were they waiting for him or Conrad to come back?
There was only one way to find out, but he needed to know how many men he had to deal with. He hoped like hell Conrad had done as he’d told him. The sea was coming in, the rocks at the headland already awash. Would he have done what he’d told Conrad to do? Likely not but then he could look after himself.
A few minutes later Archer was sure there were just two guys in the house. They’d kicked in the back door to gain entry and were in the kitchen drinking coffee. As he drew closer, any concern this was ab
out Conrad evaporated, unless Phoenix had a hit out on the barrister, and that would be too much of a coincidence, because Archer recognized the thin-faced guy with a big nose. He was one of Phoenix’s cleanup crew.
Archer wasn’t supposed to know any of them, but he’d hung around once after a hit had gone down in Germany, when it had been more dangerous to leave than stay, and happened to see two guys pick up the body of the guy he’d just killed, then sanitize the scene. Figuring knowledge was power and following would be good surveillance practice, he’d tracked the dark-haired man back to the UK, to his home in Greenwich. His name was Wilf Ellory.
Why were they here? There was nothing to clean up, except maybe Archer after they’d killed him, if that was their intention. They might be waiting for Conrad to come back to ask if he knew where he was. But then what would they do? Maybe he’d have been better to let them find Conrad at home. Conrad would have told them he’d gone and they’d have left. Maybe. The alternative was they’d have taken Conrad with them and used him in an attempt to persuade Archer to resurface. What would they do when Conrad didn’t return?
He couldn’t risk Conrad falling into their hands. He backed away over the dunes until he reached the coastal path, then ran to the next bay to approach the headland from the far side. The tide was fully in, no way around until it retreated. Archer had to sit out of sight and wait, hoping Conrad was okay and not too pissed off with him.
While he waited he called Partridge. He was going to have to lose this phone anyway so one call didn’t matter.
“Hello?” Partridge said warily.
“Listen. Don’t hang up.”
“Archer.”
He didn’t really need to ask the next question. “Did you give up my name?”
“No.” But the answer was yes.
Archer switched off the phone. The use of his name had been enough to warn him. They were monitoring Partridge’s phone.
By the time the sea stopped crashing against the rocks, it was dark. Archer didn’t dare use his phone to light his way in case the men were watching from farther down the beach. When he slid into the cave he called, “Conrad?”
“Already occupied,” Conrad snapped back. “Find your own uncomfortable rock to lie on.”
Archer sighed with relief and crawled across the wet sand until he could pull himself up onto the ledge. He nudged Conrad back to make room and lay next to him, their mouths only a few inches apart. He felt a stab of lust so strong it knotted his guts and made his cock swell. Christ, do I have no control over my dick?
“No coffee?” Conrad asked. “Christ, the room service in this place is crap. The only good thing was the efficient cleaning system. Very thorough.”
“Thank you for doing what I told you.” He couldn’t see Conrad’s expression. He wished he could. I want to kiss you.
Conrad sighed. “Was it necessary?”
“You can’t go back to your house. Two men. Big black car. Guns. They kicked in your back door. One was using your computer.” Part lies, part truth.
“Sure they weren’t after you?”
Archer was glad Conrad couldn’t see his face. He laughed. “I’m not that unpopular. You’re the one someone tried to kill.”
“True. So what now?”
“I left my vehicle near Beadnell. Once we get to a road, I’ll go and get it then come back and pick you up, drive you wherever you need to go.” Or keep you a bit longer, fuck you at least once.
“Where the fuck am I supposed to go? I have to call the police.”
“And what do you think they’re going to do? Send armed officers rushing up here? Whoever’s after you will just pull back and wait.”
“I still need to call the police.”
“Yeah, you do.” Because to say otherwise would make him suspicious.
Archer slid off the ledge and crawled toward the cave entrance. He heard Conrad groan behind him. Archer paused as he emerged but there was no gun pointing in his face, no lights, no sign of anyone farther down the beach. As Conrad came out at his side, the guy sucked in a shaky breath.
“Okay?” Archer asked.
“Not really.”
“Stay close to the rock face until we get around the corner.”
Archer hung back in case Conrad slipped. When he did, Archer caught him, and Conrad hung on as he pulled him upright. Once they were away from Shennan Sands, Archer breathed more easily but still tried to hurry Conrad over the wet beach.
Then Conrad’s phone rang.
“For fuck’s sake, shut it off,” Archer hissed.
Conrad pulled his mobile from his pocket. He gave a short laugh. “It’s the police.”
Conrad’s heart pounded so hard he was sure Archer must be able to hear it. Archer had a gun in his pocket. Okay, maybe it wasn’t, but it felt like a gun, though his experience of brushing against guys with guns in their pockets wasn’t exactly huge. He pressed the button to receive the call, put the phone to his ear and tried to sound normal.
“Hi.” He stumbled as he talked. Archer was at his side but he wouldn’t be able to hear the other side of the conversation.
“Mr. Black?”
“Yes.”
“The eyewitness who saw the car veer toward you has changed his mind and says he was mistaken.”
Conrad pressed his lips together then exhaled with a deep sigh. “What? Really?”
“He’s adamant he made a mistake. It’s a dead end.”
“So you’re not taking it further.” Not a question.
“No.”
“You should because I think someone’s threatened me tonight.”
“Think?”
Conrad was reluctant to involve Archer. “They broke into my house. I wasn’t in at the time.”
“I thought you weren’t staying in London?”
“I’m not. I’ve gone somewhere to recuperate.”
“Have you called the local police?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Probably unconnected, but you should contact them.”
Thanks for that vote of confidence.
“The case is still open but without a witness, it really does look like reckless driving.”
And I’m not a fucking witness? Conrad ended the call and made another. “Sev, it’s me.”
“I’m busy. I do have a social life.”
“I had a call from the police saying a guy had come forward claiming he’d seen the car swerve to hit me. I’ve just had another call to tell me the man has changed his mind.”
“That’s odd.”
“To come forward after all this time and then recant—yeah it is.”
“Could be someone’s trying to smoke you out. Be careful. You need me to arrange protection?”
“No. See what you can find out. Be discreet. Oh and did you do what I told you not to?”
“After you’d said not to?”
“But I know you.”
Sev sighed. “I had another look. Can’t find anything. Still think it’s a little thin. Want me to do more?”
Conrad found it hard not to look at Archer. “No.”
“Is that no meaning yes?”
Conrad laughed. “What I need you to do is to go through all my cases of the last eighteen months and look for people I pissed off. Speak to Martin.”
“We already did that.”
“Do it again. Email me the list. In fact email the court transcripts.”
“Shit, Conrad. That’s going to take hours.”
“I’m paying you. Don’t moan.” He ended the call.
“You should switch off your phone,” Archer said. “Take out the battery. You can be traced from it.”
“I bought a new phone.”
“Maybe whoever is after you is aware of your new number. The police know it. So does whoever you just
spoke with. The more who know it, the greater the risk of those you don’t want to know it finding out.”
What the hell are you? James Bond? Conrad switched off his phone and pushed it deep in his pocket. He was exhausted, confused and alarmed about the possible gun, by Archer’s behavior, by the guys in his house. But exhaustion was stamping over everything to get to the top of the pile. Lifting one foot after the other proved more and more difficult. He ached so badly he wanted to howl.
“Not much farther,” Archer said.
No way was Conrad getting into a car with him without asking what was in his pocket.
By the time they reached the road, he verged on collapse. All he wanted was to sink into a hot bath, curl up in a warm bed and sleep.
“Wait at this bus stop,” Archer said.
“Is there one due?”
“You’re not going to get on it. Stay out of sight. I’ll get the car and Deefor and pick you up.”
Conrad wasn’t going to hold his breath. Why are you carrying a gun? The words never came out because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t like the answer. And what answer could there be that he’d like?
Chapter Ten
Conrad thought about walking away plenty of times before Archer pulled up at his side, though he had no idea where he’d go. At least he had his wallet in his pocket. He thought about calling the police but he only had Archer’s word that there were men with guns at the house and he didn’t want to look a fool. What if that “gun” in Archer’s pocket was nothing of the sort? Conrad wasn’t sure whether he stayed where he was because he was too wiped out to walk another step or because this was the most intriguing thing that had happened to him in ages. Except not the gun part. He could do without that.
As he eased into the passenger seat, Deefor jumped onto his lap and licked his face.
“Do you French kiss everyone or just me?” Conrad lifted him down into the footwell. “So where are we going? Not another rock hotel.”
“Somewhere with a bed.”
Breaking: Fall or Break, Book 2 Page 12