“Her hands don’t need the sort of help you’re offering, so I suggest you keep your arse where it is,” Nan replied curtly, giving him a death stare that would’ve had me crying under the table.
Her admonishment was met with a few chuckles, and Hunter scowled in reply as he picked up the hand she’d dealt. It took me all of an hour to lose my chips. I had half hoped that I’d be allowed to win at least one hand in deference to the fact that I was a beginner, but this was a game without mercy, and the players took no prisoners. The battle played out for over three hours, and in the end, only Nan and Hunter were left. I filled the time keeping everyone fed with snacks and watching over Nan’s shoulder as I learnt more about the game than I ever could from a book. Only once did I make the mistake of showing my excitement to the others when she had a good hand, but after she threatened to cut me if I did it again, I perfected my poker face pretty quickly. Once I had a chance to just watch, it became easier to read everyone’s tells. Although Hunter was amazingly good, I could tell by the tapping of his little finger he thought he had this game in the bag. Nan, on the other hand, looked as sour faced as ever.
“Call,” Hunter said, smugly pushing an inordinately big pile of chips towards us.
Painfully slowly, Nan withdrew her cigarette and blew a perfect ring of smoke towards him. Putting it back in her mouth, she reached for her cards. Each finger bore either a solid gold or jewel-encrusted ring, and she wore them like badges of honour. I imagined them as medals from a lifetime of poker victories. She turned over her cards, her unflinching stare never leaving Hunter’s. A slow whistle pierced the silence, and his self-satisfied grin fell.
“Royal flush,” Nan said.
“Fuck,” was Hunter’s reply.
She scooped up the chips and, with my help, began packing them back into the wooden box they came from. Despondently, the team filed out one by one, until only the three of us were left.
“Had enough, Mr Jackson?” she asked, lighting up another cigarette.
“I’ll win it back,” he replied confidently. “I’m lucky like that. Your son, however, is not so lucky. If he doesn’t end this soon, he’s going to throw away his entire career.”
“You know, you’re right. Thomas isn’t lucky. He’s good. In fact, I’d go as far as to say he’s the best there is. Isn’t that why he’s in Alpha Team A and you’re in Alpha Team B,” she replied.
“And how do you know what he does at all? The fact that you know about Alpha Team A and B is a serious breach of security,” he pointed out.
“Then it’s probably best that you advise your men not to argue about how the teams were allocated or the operational experience of the men in each team within earshot of civilians. Walls have ears, Mr Jackson,” she replied. Hunter narrowed his eyes at her, looking seriously irritated. It was clear as day that Nan knew all about Tom and the team, same as I did. But if his men had been talking inappropriately, there was no way Hunter could prove it.
“I’m not stupid, Mrs Harper. I don’t need to see Lieutenant Harper and Sarah together to know that there’s something going on between them. You don’t bring an asset to your family home or move in with them without rumours flying. I have no doubt that his actions go beyond his brief. He’s one of the most highly decorated officers of his rank in the unit, but if he’s not careful, he’s going to throw it all away,” he said, and I caught my breath. I wasn’t an idiot. I realised that Tom having a relationship with me would be frowned upon, but I had no idea it could destroy his career.
“On the contrary, Lieutenant Jackson, I think you may well be one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met. You believed my son to be in a relationship with Miss Tatem,” she said, emphasising the fact that he’d referred to me by my first name, “and yet you’ve done nothing but flirt with her since you arrived. Do you have any idea what he’s capable of? Although I’m sure he, like your superiors, will appreciate you sharing your concerns with his mother of all people, perhaps you’d be better placed saving your advice until you can give it to my son in person.”
“Very well,” he agreed curtly. “I’m sorry if I offended you, or upset you. It wasn’t my intention.” I imagined that Nan’s response was unexpected, especially when she made reference to his senior officers.
“Good. And for your information, this is my house, not Tom’s, and Sarah is here by my invitation and with the consent of Lieutenant Colonel Timothy Davies. Now,” she added, and with a curt nod of acknowledgement, he left looking pissed.
“Could being with me really end his career?” I asked, getting straight to the heart of what was bothering me.
“I certainly hope so, darling,” she replied.
“Why would you want that? He’s married to this job.”
“Don’t get me wrong, as far as I’m concerned, the army saved his life. But there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wait for a knock at my door.”
“A knock at your door?” I repeated in confusion.
“When a soldier is killed in action, the army don’t call. They send an officer to tell you in person.”
“But, he’s the best at what he does. You said it yourself?” I argued.
“Sarah, I like you. I really do. But you really can’t afford to be this naive. He’s not immortal. He has one of the most dangerous jobs in the world, and he knowingly puts himself in situations that could get him killed on a daily basis. I want him out, and preferably before he’s killed, or so institutionalised that he can’t function outside the regiment. I’m not stupid enough to think that he’ll leave on my advice. He needs some incentive, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re it.”
“No offense, Nan, but I’m not the one being naive. He’s known me barely a few months. Even if he does have feelings for me, he’s not going to throw away his career over the possibility of what might be between us.” I hated to burst her bubble, but if I couldn’t afford to lie to myself, then neither could she.
“Have you ever heard of something called inhibited reactive attachment disorder?” she asked me, and I shook my head. “When I adopted Tom, I was warned by the social worker that he’d been treated for it. What he went through before that is his story to tell, but when he first came here, his behaviour was just…strange. He was quiet and polite, but he didn’t react to anything. It was like living with a robot that hadn’t been programmed with any emotional responses. Nothing seemed to scare him or make him angry, but he never smiled or laughed at anything either. No matter how hard I or anyone else pushed or pulled, he was an immoveable closed door. After about six months, I was beginning to think that we’d made a mistake. It wasn’t that we didn’t want him. More like he didn’t seem to want or need us.”
“So what changed?” I asked, unable to connect the picture of the boy she’d painted with the man I knew.
“My husband went away on business, and while he was gone, I popped down to the corner shop for some cigarettes. It was getting a little late, but it was less than half a mile away, so I didn’t think anything of it. On the way home, I was mugged by a couple of teenagers. My pride was hurt more than anything else. As you know, I have a bit of a mouth on me, but it didn’t seem to deter the little sods. They knocked me to the ground and stole my purse and cigarettes. I made it back home and called the police. When I told Tom what had happened, he seemed completely unaffected. He asked if I was okay and if I needed anything, and I told him I was fine, so he left. By the time the police arrived, he’d gone after the kids who attacked me.”
“What happened?” I prompted, desperate to learn more.
“He took them both on together and hospitalised the pair of them. One with a broken nose, the other with a broken arm. Came home and handed me back my purse and cigarettes, then calmly went off for a shower like nothing had ever happened. Of course, the police arrested him and wanted to charge him with assault, but I knew the parents of the little thugs who’d attacked me. I agreed to drop the charges if they did. The police weren’t happy, but without testimon
y from anyone, there wasn’t much they could do. When the police asked him why he’d done it, he simply answered, ‘They hurt my family.’ You see, it wasn’t that he didn’t have an emotional response, or that he was incapable of forming any attachment, it was that he lacked the ability to show it. We tried making him see psychologists, but in the end, it was my big mouth that had him answering back and opening up. I kept up the sessions, even when he refused to go anymore. I mean, what did I know about being a mother? I talked to him most of the time like a friend rather than a parent, and I needed to know I wasn’t messing him up anymore.”
“And what did they say?” I asked.
“They told me I was give him stability. Someone of permanence in his life that he could form an attachment to. As long as he was communicating, they were happy. When he left school, he told me he was joining the army. Didn’t ask my opinion or my permission, just told me. It wasn’t surprising really. The house is close to a military base, so you’d often see soldiers in the village. And I think in them he saw another family. Something disciplined and dependable that he could rely on and a profession that embraced emotional detachment rather than shunned it.”
“If he was so adamant about what he wanted, why are you so convinced anything is different now?”
“I knew the minute I saw you together,” she replied, lighting up another cigarette. “You’ve known him a couple of months. He’s possessive, caring, protective. For crying out loud, he even teases you. It took years for me to get even a sarcastic response from him. You may not see it, but I do. Whether the Army or the British Government like it or not, my boy’s claimed you, and if anyone messes with you or tries to take you away from him, I have a feeling he’s going to do a lot more than break a few bones,” she answered with a throaty chuckle.
Any other woman might’ve been scared away by Nan’s words. I was empowered by them. I mourned for his childhood, but I wanted him for who and what he was. For the man he had become. Nan was brash, sarcastic, and in your face, but she was strong. She stood by the damaged boy who became a great man, and if he chose me, if he wanted me, then I would do the same. I would show him the same love and loyalty that Nan had.
“How will I know if I’m enough? If he had me, could he live without the army?” I asked. My only worry was that, despite his wanting me, that the army would make him choose between me and his career. I wanted him to have it all on his terms, but if we stayed together, that choice would be beyond my control.
“You don’t have a very high opinion of yourself, do you?” she said, laughing. “Tom knows what his options are. It’s his decision to make, and if you ask me, he’s made it. Indecision has never been his problem. But I would say this. Be very sure of yours before you walk down this path with him. Hurt my boy, and I will hurt you in ways you will feel for a very long time.”
“Holy shit! You’re absolutely terrifying!”
“I know,” she replied, “it’s a gift. Tom might possibly be the only person I know completely immune to my bullshit. Eventually, he’ll rub off on you and you’ll be immune too. Until that happens, try not to let my big mouth scare you away. Tom chooses you, you’re part of this crazy family, and I can be pretty protective of my family.”
“I’ll do my best,” I agreed, smiling. “What did you mean when you said the house was yours? Tom seemed pretty adamant that it’s his.”
“Oh, so that’s how it is. Want to know about his assets before you throw in your chips, do you?” she teased.
“Do you have any idea how much my shares in Tatem Shipping are worth?” I replied, arching my eyebrow as I did.
“No idea. How much?” she asked, making me chuckle. It was so like her to call me on it. There was no such thing as conversational etiquette with Nan. If she wanted to know something, she’d just come out and ask.
“Actually, I have no idea, but you add the value of the shares and properties I inherited from my Dad and brother, both here and abroad, I’m probably worth a couple hundred million,” I replied as I concentrated on sorting the chips into the right colours.
After a beat, I realised she hadn’t replied. Looking up, I saw her mouth agog, her cigarette hanging precariously from her lower lip.
“Holy shit,” she said, eventually.
“Well, don’t get too excited. When all’s said and done, I don’t plan on keeping the majority of it.”
“Why the hell not?”
* * *
“I can’t tell you much, but let’s just say the money is tainted. As far as I’m concerned, it’s brought my family nothing but pain and misery.”
She stared at me through narrowed eyes before stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray. “Fair enough. I’d advise that you don’t leave yourself financially crippled. Anyone who says money doesn’t make you happy, probably hasn’t had to endure what it feels like not having two pennies to scratch their arse with. But if you want to get rid of the rest for a worthy cause, that’s your choice. I think you’re crazy, but it’s your choice. I sort of enjoy being the richest one in the family anyway.”
“Well, now that I have your permission to do what I want with my fortune, cup of tea?” I asked sarcastically.
“Cheeky bitch! Thought you’d never ask!” she replied. As rude and completely offensive as she was, I couldn’t wait for the day I got to introduce her to Aunt Elizabeth.
Having spent most of the afternoon chatting with Nan, I found myself at the stove.
“Are you staying for dinner?” I asked her.
“With Mr ‘Hunt His Way Into Your Knickers’ loitering about, I’m staying for the weekend,” she said. Hunter leant against the kitchen counter with his arms folded menacingly. He didn’t respond to Nan’s taunt, but his eyes were shooting her daggers. In return she gave him her death stare back and I chuckled at the both of them for acting like children.
“I’m so sick of takeaway,” I chipped in, hunting through the cupboards for real food, finding only some frozen vegetables in the freezer and gravy granules and baked beans in the pantry.
“I brought bread, milk, and a chicken with me, but I’ve got no idea how to cook it,” she said.
“Roast chicken it is then,” I said, pulling out everything I’d need. When it was done, I didn’t have to call everyone to the table. As soon as the chicken smell started to drift through the house, they all hovered about the kitchen like flies around honey. The minute the meal hit the table, they devoured it like locusts, but before they could escape, Nan had put them to work cleaning the kitchen and doing the dishes.
“Doesn’t Tom have a dishwasher?” I asked curiously.
“Of course he does,” she replied, “but have you looked at the view?” We both poked our noses around the door to see three of the team stood at the sink. They all wore the black combat trousers that fitted snugly across the arse, and the one washing the dishes had opted to take off his T-shirt rather than risk getting it wet. I sighed appreciatively, though my perverted mind couldn’t help but imagine a shirtless Tom drying dishes at the sink.
“I’m getting rid of the dishwasher the minute I get back,” I muttered, and Nan snorted with laughter.
When we sat down later, she turned on an action movie, much to the guys’ appreciation, and I went back to my sketching. Not being able to communicate with Tom in any way was killing me, but the more time I spent here, the more relaxed I felt. That was until Hunter walked in, stern faced and gripping his mobile phone.
“What’s happened?” I whispered, my heart sinking as I waited for his news.
“There’s been another attack,” he replied gravely. “It’s bad.”
Vasili
“Send in Alek and Mikhail,” I said, pressing the button to end the call. Seconds later they knocked at the door, then entered the room.
“Take her away,” I said to Alek, indicating towards the little bitch in the corner. Curled up naked, she barely whimpered when Alek dragged her roughly out of my office, having learned only too well what happened if
she cried out. I liked to test out any of the new merchandise that caught my eye.
It was relaxing, seeing if their spirit broke before their bodies. But I was far from relaxed. From the back, the bitch looked remarkably like someone else, but she was no substitute. No matter how brutally I fucked her, she wasn’t the little spitfire I really wanted. Venting my frustration out on that pale, little body helped somewhat, but once I was done I no longer wanted her stinking up the place. Everything about her, and all the other cargo, pissed me off. Their fear. Their hopelessness. Even their fucking poverty. They were all reminders of my own pitiful start. A place I’d literally crawled out of to make something of myself.
Looking around the opulence of my office, I reminded myself that I deserved more. A woman of class and breeding. A wildcat with a fiery spirit. I couldn’t keep her of course. Plans for her future had already been secured long before I laid eyes on the bitch. But after our first encounter, I knew I’d be renegotiating the arrangement. I wanted her under me. Wanted to feel my hand around her pale, soft throat as I choked her. Wanted to fuck her raw as the life drained from her eyes, only to let her breathe before she passed out. I could do that for hours. Test her limits before I broke her for good. And when she was no longer of any use. When I’d fucked her enough to rid myself of the obsession, I’d throw her back to the wolves. My cock was rock hard just thinking of it.
“I want the transcripts for the bugs on the Tatem woman for the last twenty-four hours,” I barked at Mikhail.
“We don’t have them,” he answered. I narrowed my eyes as I contemplated how to punish whoever had fucked up.
“What do you mean you don’t have them?”
“She has not returned home. Our man says that the bodyguard has left her and that she has a new detail.”
“Has she replaced him?” I asked.
“It is unlikely. She is with the security team at his home,” he explained. I stared at him hard but said nothing. To show any kind of emotion to my men, including anger, was beneath me.
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