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Redemption: Triple R Security, Book 3

Page 4

by Imogen Wells


  “Mr Danvers?” At the sound of his name, his eyes flick to me for the briefest fraction of a second, not wanting to take his eyes off Rocco for too long. Mr Danvers has his hands splayed wide in front of him, and a look of fear at becoming Rocco’s next meal.

  Snatching Rocco’s collar, I quickly latch his lead back in place before telling him to heel. He gives one more snarl at Mr Danvers before sitting tentatively at my side.

  “I’m sorry. He’s very protective, as you can see.” I swipe a glare to Rocco, who’s focus remains steadfast on the perceived threat in front of him.

  Mr Danvers, a guest here at the cabins, slowly lowers his hands and offers me a somewhat tense smile.

  “It’s no problem. Can’t fault him for protecting you,” he says, taking a small step forward. A small growl escapes Rocco at his movement, but I tighten my hold on his leash and tell him to knock it off.

  Deciding that if Mr Danvers has any chance of leaving here alive, I need to move Rocco away. I give a tug on Rocco’s lead and move us both to the side of the pathway and ensure there’s a wide berth. He also does the same on the opposite side of the path while keeping his movements nice and slow.

  “I think I’m just going to—” His words are cut off by the ringing of a mobile. “Shit!” he exclaims as Rocco starts barking. Yanking the phone from the small cuff around his bicep, which are mighty fine, he silences the ringing. “Sorry about that. I need to take this, so I’ll just be going now. Enjoy the rest of your walk,” he says as he edges sideways like a crab down the path away from us.

  I finally get Rocco to stop barking in time to hear Mr Danvers mutter ‘god help anyone else you meet on your walk’. I scoff at that considering that I’ve known Rocco since Harry brought him home from the RSPCA six years ago and have never seen him react that way before.

  Aware that releasing Rocco with Mr Danvers still in the vicinity might not be the best idea, I keep his lead on and continue down the path. He slopes along beside me clearly not amused with the restriction.

  “What was all that about, boy?” I ask, and he cants his head to look at me as though I asked a dumb question. “I thought he seemed like a good guy. Guess I was wrong, huh?” As if agreeing, Rocco lets out two short barks, and I let out a laugh.

  The rest of the walk is quiet, and Rocco enjoys it even more when I finally let him loose again.

  Back at the house, I give Eleanor a hand preparing lunches for the guests that have pre-ordered and set off to deliver them.

  Coming up to the last cabin, my mobile rings in my pocket and I heave a sigh knowing who it is. I stop, pulling it from my back pocket and answer it with a clipped ‘what’.

  “I see the time away has done nothing to exorcise your saltiness, Jessica.”

  I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “What on earth makes you say that, Father?” I don’t give him the chance to reply. “What do you want?”

  “Have you seen the paper today?”

  “No, Father. Drinking coffee and reading the tabloids isn’t how I start my day. Besides, whatever I’ve missed, I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.” My father is always happy to rub my mistakes in my face. It’s par for the course when you’re not the favourite.

  I hear him sigh down the phone, and I know for sure he’s rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation at my contemptuous reply.

  “When are you going to take your life seriously, Jessica? When will you see what impact your actions have on those around you?” He pauses for a minute, another sigh exhaled from him before he goes in for the kill. “I’ve already instructed Bonham and Sons on your behalf, and Clive is taking the case personally. We can’t afford any fuck ups. I expect you to return to London at the start of next week.”

  “I’m not returning to London. I’ve already put my flat on the market. And I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”

  “What on earth are you talking about, Jessica? You can’t run away from your responsibilities. You must face them and do your duty to uphold the good name of this family.”

  “Oh please. Good name of this family? You and I both know all I’ve ever done is tarnish that name in your opinion. Did you forget I no longer carry the family name? Therefore, what I do has no bearing on you or my mother. Tell Clive thanks but no thanks.” I end the call before he can go off at me and switch it to silent. Shoving it back in my pocket, my eyes lift to the cabin in front of me as the door opens.

  Mr Danvers stops dead when he sees me. His eyes flick back and forth, no doubt looking for Rocco.

  “You’re safe, Mr Danvers. I just came to deliver your lunch order,” I say stepping forward to hand it to him. He’s decked out in khaki cargo trousers, a white t-shirt that’s poking out from beneath a half zip jumper, a gilet and a pair of hiking boots. Over his shoulder is a small backpack that he slips off and puts the lunch I just gave him in along with a thin waterproof windcheater jacket.

  “Please, call me Jake. Thanks for the delivery,” he says as he swings the bag back over his shoulder. “I didn’t know you worked here,” he queries.

  “Oh, I don’t. I’m just helping out while I’m here.” A small frown mars his face, and I can see he’s confused. “Harry and Eleanor are family friends.”

  “Ah, I see.” He pulls the cabin door closed, locking it and shoving the keys in one of the many pockets in his trousers before we walk back down the path together. “So, are you staying long…”

  “It’s Jess. I’m not sure yet. Maybe a few weeks. How about you?”

  “I’m just here for a couple of weeks, but I’ll definitely be back later in the year.” I nod in agreement, understanding the appeal of this place.

  Reaching the fork in the path, we say goodbye as he heads towards one of the trails, and I head back to the house.

  Eleanor keeps me busy and my mind off all the crap that’s going on right now. Although, most of what my father says is utter shit, he did make a good point about my responsibilities, and I’m fully aware I can’t hide out here forever.

  Seven

  Rick

  Two days earlier (Monday)

  I pull up to the house and switch the engine off. Instead of getting out, I sit for several minutes to gather my thoughts. Today has been hard, and I need a minute to clear my head before I go inside. My son is in there, and whilst I can’t wait to hug him and hold him close, I don’t want him to see me like this.

  Funerals are always hard, but watching a man bury his only child has stripped me bare. I haven’t felt this much pain since Sam’s death, and it’s made me appreciate the precious gift she left me before she passed away.

  Max has been the one constant that, in those first few weeks, had me forcing myself out of bed every morning and kept me functioning.

  A flash of red in the corner of my eye has me turning to the house as I see Max running towards the car. Quickly shaking my thoughts away, I snatch up my keys and climb from the car just in time to catch him as he leaps at me.

  “Daddy, guess what?”

  Shifting him to one arm so I can close the car door, I say, “What?”

  “I missed you, Dad,” he states before slapping a sloppy kiss to my cheek. As he pulls back, I dive forward, blowing a raspberry on his neck, and he wriggles in my arms. “Daddy, stop, stop…it tickles,” he says through his giggling.

  “Okay, okay. Come on, let’s go inside and you can tell me what trouble you’ve been causing.” I carry Max to the house where my mum is waiting on the doorstep. “Hey, Mum,” I greet, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

  She doesn’t say anything, just lays a hand on my arm and gives a little squeeze before turning and going back into the house.

  I let Max down, and he runs off after my mum just as the oven begins to beep. The sweet smell of a cake baking reaches me at the same time, and I can practically hear Max licking his lips.

  In my room, I strip out of my suit and jump in the shower, allowing the water to wash over me and attempt to cleanse the melancholy fro
m me.

  It helps somewhat, but only in so far as my mind floods with beautiful cornflower blue eyes instead. Ones that have walked the depths of my mind and invaded my dreams for the last two weeks. My cock hardens instantly, and I let out a curse at my body’s reaction. It’s been a long time since I had such a visceral reaction to a woman, and it pisses me off because I don’t know how to deal with it.

  Sex is easy because it’s a natural want and need for any person, and I’ve had my fair share since I lost Sam. Getting hard just thinking about someone and having them in your head and dreams is a whole other ball game. My cock throbs, but I ignore it, instead turning the water to cold in the hopes it will go away. It doesn’t but I refuse to give into my body’s demands.

  Downstairs I find my dad in his study, today’s paper laid out on the desk in front of him and a glass of scotch in his hand.

  “Son,” he greets, nodding towards the chair across from him. “You want to talk about it?”

  I shake my head. “Not really. How was Max today?”

  My dad opens the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out another glass and his favourite scotch. He pours a healthy measure before pushing it across the desk to me. I get the feeling that his presumed assumption I need a drink isn’t solely to do with where I’ve been today and more to do with my question about Max.

  I take a mouthful before addressing my dad. “What’s going on, Dad?”

  “We received a call from the school today. It appears that Max, along with two other boys, were seen talking to a man through the bars of the playground at lunch time today. Unfortunately, by the time the teacher reached them, the man had left. When they questioned the boys, they told the teacher that the man was asking if it was a good school.” I raise my brows at that piss poor excuse for talking to primary school children. “I hear you, Rick, and I smell the bullshit too. The school have informed the police, and the teacher was able to give a description to them, albeit not very helpful.”

  “I’ll have a word with Scott. He’s not on a job just now, so he can patrol the area while Max is at school.”

  “Actually, your mother and I were thinking as half-term is coming up, we should all get away for a break. How about we take the caravan and head up to Kings Dyke for the week.”

  I’m about to say no, but then decide it’s a great idea. We haven’t had a break away in a while. Things are quite at the moment, and even with Ryder taking some time out with Cam and the baby, I know the guys can handle things. Besides, that last job was tough.

  “Well, what do you say, son? I think you and Max could do with it.”

  “When do we leave?” My dad smiles, and I see how relieved he is that I agreed.

  “Tomorrow. I know school is not officially finished yet, but it’s only a couple of days.” Before my dad can say anything more, Max comes bursting into the room and announces that dinner is ready.

  During dinner, I tell Max we’re going to Kings Dyke, and his excitement is infectious, bringing a huge smile to my face.

  I ignore my phone for the next couple of hours to enable me to pack a bag for Max and get him bathed and in bed before reading him his favourite story. We’ll stop off at our house on the way and grab the rest of our stuff.

  As I pull the door closed, I look at my son and get a punch to the gut at how much he looks like his mother. I used to watch Sam sleeping. Sometimes for hours when my brain wouldn’t allow me to sleep, and I’d thank every god known to man for giving me this wonderful woman. Now, I’d like to be able to curse them for taking her away when I needed her the most. When we needed her the most. But I can’t because they saw fit to bless me with Max, and for that I can only be thankful.

  I look away, stepping out of the room and closing the door. As I turn around, I see my mum standing beside her door.

  “You okay, love?” she asks.

  “I’m fine, thanks, Mum. Just amazed at how much he’s growing up and—”

  “Looking more and more like Samantha every day.”

  “Yeah, that,” I say with a small sigh.

  My mum steps forward. “He has her frown down pat, and it brings a smile to my face every time he does it. We talk about her often, you know?”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yes. I have a photo album that I made after she… Well, whenever he asks about her, we get it out, and he’ll choose one picture for me to tell him all about.”

  I don’t really know what to say to that. It’s been a while since we spoke about his mum. In the past when he’s asked, I’d always given him what he needed but struggled to keep my emotions in check, and I think he’s picked up on that. Plus, I’d have to be here for him to ask me.

  “Don’t you dare let that head of yours start spouting shit about you not being here enough for him. You’re here when it counts, Rick, and that is the most important thing right now. I know for certain that Samantha would be proud of you. Raising kids is hard work, and it doesn’t matter if you’re alone or with someone, it’s never a walk in the park.”

  I choke back the lump in my throat that talking or even just thinking about Sam usually brings and manage to utter a quiet but heartfelt thanks to my mum.

  She pats my cheek before heading into their room. I stand there for a couple more minutes, and I realise that whilst it’s still painful to think of Sam, my hurt is more for my son and what he’s lost now. The whole ‘time is a healer’ isn’t really true. You never heal, but the pain lessens, and you learn to move forward.

  I only to have to look at Cam to know that there’s life after such a terrible loss. She’s moved on, has a new baby, and although Jamison will never replace Faye, no one ever could, he’s proof that there’s life after death.

  Do I believe that I can do the same? One day, maybe. But right now, my focus has to be on being there for Max and making sure he’s well, safe and loved. I’m also not sure that my heart will ever be open to letting another woman in the way Sam was.

  I pack the small amount of belongings I have here into the bag, and just as I close it, my mobile vibrates in my pocket. I’m aware that I’ve ignored several calls since dinner.

  Pulling it free, Seb’s name flashes across the screen. I know why he’s calling, and I wasn’t ready earlier, but I am now.

  “Hey. I’m sorry, mate. It’s been a pretty shitty day, and I needed to spend some time with Max.”

  “It’s cool, Rick. And I’m sorry it’s so late, but Jamie’s been riding my arse all day.” I let out a chuckle at that statement and believing every word. “So, how did it go?”

  “About as good as you’d expect. And only Tobias could make a fucking paparazzi party of his own daughter’s funeral. He even live streamed it on her Insta story for fuck’s sake. Who the hell does that, Seb?”

  “I know, man. Jamie was spitting fucking feathers about it.” There’s a silent pause that I just know precedes something I’m not going to like. “It seems that Charlotte’s funeral wasn’t the only news Tobias orchestrated today.”

  “Go on,” I grit out.

  “He served Ms Fisher today and made sure that at least one photographer was there to witness it.”

  “Fuck!” The curse falls easily from my lips. I’m not really surprised he carried out his threat to her, but I am surprised he knew where she was. I know she’s not at her home address and hasn’t been since just after Charlotte’s suicide.

  Yeah, I checked on her. But I’m not ready to admit that out loud or admit it was for any other reason other than purely professional.

  “The guy is certainly a piece of work. I hope that Jamie never lays eyes on the man again because I fear for his life.”

  “I know how she feels.” It’s not a lie. After today, I can picture my hands round the man’s throat squeezing the life from his body. I push the dark thoughts from my mind. “Look, I’m taking some time away with Max and my parents. We’re only going to Kings Dyke, so if you need me, I’ll be around.”

  “Of course. Take as long as you need.
Maybe we’ll come spend the day with you all.”

  “Sounds like a great idea. Thanks, man. I’ll call you so we can arrange something.”

  We say our goodbyes, and then I shoot a message to Ryder to let him know what’s going on. His reply is short, sweet and far from the grumpy arse he was before he met Cam.

  Blue: Have fun, enjoy the sweet scent of manure, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. ;)

  I drop the phone on my bedside table with a shake of my head and a smile. I brush my teeth and take a quick piss before climbing into bed.

  Despite my body and mind being emotional and raw, I struggle to sleep. When I finally do, my dreams are filled with pain, terror and death.

  Eight

  Rick

  “Who are you? Why are you here?” he asks me again. When I don’t answer, the chair I’m sitting on is tipped backward before I feel the cold sting of a wet cloth as it’s thrown over my face, and my already burning lungs begin to scream in protest at what’s coming.

  It feels like my skin is on fire as the icy water hits. Burning my nasal passage as it swishes up my nose and down my throat, forcing me to take a breath I know is going to fill my lungs with water instead of the air they need. I hold on for as long as possible, but as my mouth fills with water and my lungs cry out for air, I have no choice but to open my mouth. As soon as I do, I suck in a breath that mixes with my water filled mouth causing me to choke. The air never reaches its intended target as I begin to gurgle and sputter. Water spurts from my mouth as I try desperately to expel it and take a breath, only for another gush of freezing water to hit me.

  Eventually, I lose consciousness.

  Next time I come around, I’m no longer strapped to a chair. Instead, my arms are stretched out to their full reach and chained to the wall behind me, feet barely touching the ground…

  “Tell me who you are working for?”

  Shouting echoes through my foggy mind before a scream rips through the air that snaps my eyes open.

 

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