Forgiving Love (The Soul Sisters Series Book 2)

by Victoria Johns

“I’m fucking trying,” I tell him, “And they’re not my women. One of them I don’t want to know and the other one I don't want to think about right now.”

  “I get you, just thought you should know.”

  “Cheers Oli, later,” I say and hang up.

  Fucking women, a total pain in my ass. Can’t live with them and totally miserable without them. Although hearing that Polly pissed Neely off enough for her to chuck a drink makes me chuckle. My cell phone pings with a text message as I go to put it back in my pocket.

  Oli: Road trip tomorrow? Need your help, pick you up at 7.45am.

  Me: Sure, no problem.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dinner with my folks was fine, they were a little disappointed in me and as usual disagreeing over something in my life. This time it was Chris. Mom was adamant that if he didn’t fight for me he simply wasn’t good enough for me. Whereas my dad was at the other end of the spectrum, he argued that being on the other end of wanting a woman as strong as I was, was both daunting and terrifying. He explained that on some days you were convinced you were fit enough for the fight and on others you were just too battle weary to continue.

  I didn’t comment much, but what he said gave me food for thought, in reality what my mom was saying was far more romantic and every girl’s dream. Every girl wanted a guy, no, deserved a guy that was willing to move all obstacles and fight to be with her.

  Before I went to sleep I did some simple internet searches on Nolefax Distributions, but as expected I found nothing. I was just pinged from site to site and between lots of different host routing countries with no real information available, pretty standard stuff for a criminal corporate organization trying to stay under the radar.

  I sent some emails asking for official IRS information, listed director board names and ownership information. Until the replies came in I’d just have to be satisfied with a sneaky visit to one of their properties to see if that can give me any further clues.

  I was up and ready earlier than expected the next morning, partly nervous and a little excited for the adventure. After packing all the details, snacks and drinks for the journey in a back pack, I wave goodbye to my folks and wander down the drive to meet Oli’s jeep.

  His black escalade turns up the drive and leaves a wake of dust in its journey to get to me. As it gets closer I see there is a second person sitting in the front passenger seat.

  Shit. He’s told someone.

  Fuck. It’s Chris.

  This is not what I had planned. Two hundred plus miles in a confined space with someone I’m avoiding isn’t going to work. The truck comes to a stop and I convey my response to our surprise guest by standing glaring at Oli with my hands on my hips. Neither gets out but Oli sends his window down and shouts, “Let’s roll Neely. You can fill us in on the way.”

  I stomp round to his window and through gritted teeth start with, “What the fuck Oli? I thought we had a deal?”

  “Yeah, but then I thought some enforced time in a small space would do you two kids some good. Hopefully you’ll make friends.”

  “You’ve got to be joking?” I snap and notice Chris is smirking, so I look at him and shout, “Fucking seriously, you can’t be OK with this? You don’t even know where you’re going?”

  “You know what Neely, a day away from the shit swirling round my ranch will be good, even if it is with you.”

  “Oh really,” I say, laughing, “Oli let’s do this because the chance to ruin his day and piss him off more just became today’s primary objective.” I can’t wait to tell him where we’re going.

  Oli laughs back at me and Chris mumbles, “Bring it on,” as I walk with purpose to the back door, open it and climb in.

  “So, where are we going Oli?” Chris asks him.

  “Yeah Neely,” Oli says looking at me, “Where are we going?”

  Chris genuinely has no idea that this is my road trip. When he finds out what I’ve discovered he’s either going to be pissed that I’ve ignored Ross and Jonas or pleased to be able to do something to help.

  Over the next hour I start at the beginning with what I’ve uncovered, my thoughts and then I share what’s at the end of the GPS route address I’ve given Oli as our destination.

  It doesn’t go down well.

  “Let me understand this, we’re driving to poke around at an address that may or may not be owned by a criminal organization?” asks Oli.

  “Sort of. Yes. We’re just going for a look. To see what kind of feel we get from the place,” I reply.

  “I cannot believe Ross and Jonas are OK with this after the speech they gave us yesterday,” says Chris. I look at Oli in his rear view mirror, he returns my gaze and neither of us say anything. Chris catches on quickly, “Oh this just gets better, how the fuck did she con you into this? You do realize that those two are going to go nuclear and I hope you’re ready for that man.”

  “Of course I am, she asked for help, we all know she’ll go anyway if she doesn’t get her own way...” Oli replies.

  “Oi, I am here you know, I can hear you,” I mutter but Oli continues over me, “And you’re here too, they can’t possibly bollock us both, technically we’ve got her double covered now.”

  “Hellllooooo, remember me, person with brains who is actually here and has fully functioning hearing,” I snap again.

  “Nice move Oli,” Chris continues to ignore me, “I see what your theory is, but they’re still going to go fucking mental, don’t make me fight my best mate over her or her crazy plans.”

  “Deal,” says Oli, “I’ll take Jonas and you can deal with the other big fucker.”

  For some reason they find this funny. On the other hand I feel like a child that is being ignored, which is exactly how it carries on for the rest of the journey, and being the petulant child they treat me like, I continue to sulk. Overall this does nothing to improve my mood or help me warm towards my surprise travelling companion.

  We stop a couple of times for gas and to use the bathroom, Chris also buys snacks and drinks because I’m sulking and being a petulant child, which means I’m refusing to share. Oli makes a few calls and I continue to stomp about in a strop.

  We’ve been on the road for about four hours and Oli advises we’re about ten miles out from the GPS route end point. I had no idea it would take this long and the length of the journey gives extra weight to the tunnels importance. If it’s a straight line tunnel it could cut the journey time across the state by hours, and that would be hours with no risk of running into the local law enforcement or highway patrol.

  “What’s the plan when we get there?” I ask.

  “No plan until I’ve seen what the place looks like. If it’s a fortress we turn around and go home. If it’s an old farm house, Chris and I may have a look around and if it’s something in between we’ll think up a new plan,” says Oli.

  “Um... what about me?”

  “You’re on truck watch, staying put and keeping look out.”

  “I don’t think so Chris.”

  “That’s what your option is or we turn around and start for home,” states Oli.

  “Fucking men! You’re both asses,” I shout only to be greeted with laughter.

  At the end of a long drive we finally hit a sign that looks like any normal sign at the entrance of a business property, it even says that the place is guarded by security, trespassers will be dealt with and entry is only available via prior appointment. The end of the drive also has a twelve foot high gate separating an equally daunting looking perimeter wall of the same height and just in case you were thinking of climbing that, it has razor wire on the top.

  My investigations on the internet didn’t lead me to any details around what Nolefax Distributions distributed, but it can’t be picked fruit with the clear tone of “unwelcome” it portrays.

  “Looks welcoming, come on Neely,” says Oli in a clipped voice.

  “What…”

  “Truck. Now,” is his determined response with no room
for discussion, both Chris and I follow him and climb inside.

  “Aren’t we even going to try and get in?”

  “Not at the main gate, there were cameras, tiny ones looking right as us, we will need to be careful and we are supposed to be staying under the radar, but I imagine they already know we’re here,” he mumbles.

  “So what now?”

  “Now we keep driving, we get back on the road and come at the property from a different angle.”

  We try this approach another couple of times and keep ending up driving at the same impenetrable wall.

  “I have an idea,” I tell them, “How about we park somewhere in the vicinity of the tunnel entrance and just see what happens? We could just take a walk and observe for a bit? It would save it being a total waste of time.”

  “Well we don’t have much else to go on, so we’ll try that,” they both agree.

  He sets off again, attempting to navigate somewhere closer to the spot on the map, we settle on a parking spot on the side of the road that is about half a mile from the tunnel entrance so we have a bit of a forest hike to make. It doesn’t bother me this time, I’m not alone and not as scared as the first time I went searching.

  Chris leads a little bit up front with the map, he slows and stops every now and then until he’s satisfied we’re heading in the right direction, Oli is following him with the back pack and I’m shuffling behind them, willing my shorter legs to keep up with their long strides. They both confer up ahead and agree that we’re about as close as we should be getting because there is a chance that the whole property is monitored by cameras.

  “You can’t see anything from here,” I grumble until Oli produces a pair of binoculars from the back pack with a smirk, “Smart ass.”

  We’re about a hundred yards from the wall edge, on a sort of raised mound and we all lie on our fronts, on a picnic blanket that Oli must have put in the back pack with the binoculars. We must look stupid, two huge guys skulking in the undergrowth with me sandwiched in between them in a pale peach jogging suit. Admittedly, I don’t blend into the undergrowth like they do and I’m far too close to Chris for my liking, but we are where we are.

  “Jonas would freak if he saw this,” I chuckle.

  “Yep, not least because our man would be in fatigues with his face covered in war paint. He’d also have an RPG strapped to his back and probably wouldn’t be chuckling like we are,” says Chris.

  Oli is busy with the binoculars and not really getting on board with my attempt to keep us amused. “There is a house, which is more of a warehouse with windows I think, it’s designed to look that way and all seems quiet so far. I haven’t seen any people yet. Scratch that, man in the top window looking in this direction.” Chris and I freeze immediately.

  “Has he seen us?”

  “I hope not because it looks like its Henry Vans, if he’s seen us at all, even at the front gate, our gig is up.”

  “Yes!” I rejoice, “I am wasted in law, I should be a bad ass P.I.” Chris bursts out laughing and when he does this I remember that I hate him and offer him a glare just to remind him, unfortunately, this makes his grin get bigger.

  “Ssh you two, listen,” snaps Oli and we both shut up. My ears strain to hear any noise at all until something gets progressively louder. A truck seems to be driving along the edge of the wall, on the inside. It stops ahead of our position and the engine idles, this is it, we’ve been rumbled, they’re coming for us.

  Nothing happens until we hear a mechanical noise of something being opened and then a loud bang of metal on metal. The engine revs again and then disappears only for the three of us to hear and feel the rumble beneath us. It disappears after a few seconds and the mechanical noise starts again and ends with another loud bang.

  All three of us look at each other wide eyed with incredulous wonder.

  The vehicle drove into the tunnel.

  The tunnel is big enough for a vehicle.

  The operation is mature enough to have put mechanically operated doors on the tunnel.

  This is serious fucking shit.

  “We need to get out of here,” says Oli realizing that this is serious and we could be getting deeper in the business of some criminal activity than is necessarily safe for amateurs. We all go to stand up and then hear the crackle of radio’s and voices.

  “Where did you see this reflection? Over.” The robotic voice crackles and replies, “Not far from your position, see anything? Over.” A response of “No. Over,” is given and then we hear what doesn’t sound good for us, “OK, exterior sweep for confirmation. Over.”

  “Shit, time to move, we don’t have long before they’re going to be here. Move. Quietly and stay low in case someone has bino’s and is watching from the windows. God damn peach fucking joggers.” Oli is right, I do stick out like a flashing beacon.

  The boys crouch low and start winding back. I just stand up in a panic and start sprinting behind them, remembering to grab the picnic blanket which I’m now flapping all over the place.

  “Fuck Neely, are you trying to send them a message via semaphore, stop it or we’re in deep shit,” grits Chris snatching the blanket off me.

  We’re getting closer to the car, I know this because the forest is thinning out when a gunshot rings through the quiet, cracking through the silence and bounces off a tree trunk next to me.

  “Holy Fuck! They’re shooting! OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod.”

  Oli is now in a full on sprint, “I’ll get the truck running.” Chris slows his sprint until I am near him and he grabs my hand and then starts to drag me quicker. Another shot rings out and hits another tree trunk. I begin really panicking now, two shots in our direction is no hunting accident, these fuckers are actually shooting at us.

  The road is just up ahead and I see sun bounce off the windows of Oli’s Escalade, the back door is already open and I launch myself through it when I get near the truck, quickly followed by Chris who is yelling, “Go go go!”

  We speed away with the door still partly open and hear a final round of gun fire which seems to pierce the back of the car somewhere.

  Silence and heavy breathing consumes the inside of the truck, until Oli roars, “FUCK!” and then hits a few buttons on the steering wheel which is then followed by a ringing phone. Chris is staring at me with wide eyes, he leans over and grabs me harshly, “Get off me. Stop. What are you doing?”

  “Just checking you’re in one piece babe. Please let me.”

  I let him because of the tone of his voice, it doesn’t tell me he wants to do it, it tells me he needs to. He breathes a sigh of relief once he’s satisfied I’m not hurt and then lets me go. He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, taking his head in his hands. “What the fuck?” he whispers to himself.

  The ringing phone that Oli has dialed is finally answered with a, “Yeah?” It’s Jonas.

  “We ran into a problem and I need advice on how to proceed,” Oli tells him.

  “What kind of problem?”

  “The gun fire kind.”

  “Fuck,” and you can hear Jonas hiss in anger from the car’s speakers.

  “Oli, you told him?” I say.

  “Neely, shut the fuck up,” says Jonas. I can’t believe Oli ratted me out. “OK, I gotta report this in, any casualties or damage?”

  No injuries, but the rear of my Escalade took a round.”

  “OK, for now take your car and check into a motel, you need to be about seventy five miles away from the scene. Park the truck out of sight and call with your location.”

  “OK. On it.” Oli tells him and hangs up, “And of course I told him, you don’t fuck around in the middle of a government agency investigation. I was given the go ahead because both Jonas and Ross knew you’d go it alone. I just brought Chris because I thought he would make it more entertaining, although I didn’t expect entertainment of the Call of Duty variety.”

  “And neither did I because I like to think you’d fill me in on that potential shi
t,” Chris tells him, he’s clearly frustrated. The in car phone rings again and Oli answers it quickly, “Your Escalade is now out of commission and we have to assume it’s been made and they have your plate details. Dump the truck and keys at the nearest mall to where you end up, let me know where it is and someone will tow it away. A new vehicle will be delivered to the motel. Stay low tonight and don’t leave Neely alone.” He hangs up and silence engulfs us.

  What the fuck is going on?

  What the hell have I gotten us into?

  Chapter Seventeen

  The motel we check into is a cookie cutter style affair and the rooms are charged to a non-descript business account of Oli’s, he gets us three rooms in a row and insists that I stay in the middle. They plan to take this don’t leave Neely alone shit seriously then. We head to our rooms and agree to meet again at my room, in thirty minutes.

  “Any problems in the next thirty minutes just bang on one of the walls, they’re thin as shit, we’ll hear and come running,” commands Oli.

  After shutting my door, I’m not really sure what to do with myself but taking a shower seems like the best way to use the time. The drama, danger and sprinting under bullet fire has made me sweaty and exhausted. As I stand under the water I chant, don’t think, don’t think to myself to stop the worry and brain activity from bedding in.

  Once I’m out of the shower I realize I have no clean clothes or underwear. I refuse to put dirty underwear on a after a clean shower, choosing the commando option is the only route available. I’ve got on my shade of peach jogging suit and a vest top, it would be obvious I wasn’t wearing a bra if I didn’t have the matching hooded sweater, but left with little other option I forge ahead and wait for the guys. I remind myself I’m still not friends with Chris as I go to open the door to the first knock and am relieved to see both of them there.

  An early dinner goes without a hitch, we all try for normal conversation, but both guys are watching, almost sweeping all of the customers to make sure we’re not in danger. By the time we eat something non-descript that doesn’t register on the taste scale, we all agree we’re exhausted and decide to call it a night. Oli has some calls to make and I’m only still standing through pure adrenaline. We also need to be back at the motel so Oli can take delivery of the new truck.