Chozen: Gritty, fast-paced police suspense-drama where nothing is as it seems! (Headspace Book 1)

by J Paton

  I had more control than that, but he was pressing all of my buttons, and I could see the motherfucker was going to make me sweat. That was okay. Because when he did lift his head, I was going to let him have both fucking barrels. I had a lot to say about the clusterfuck that had happened at the weekend. The police force had not only put me at risk, but also the civilians caught in the crossfire. All because the dick hadn’t listened, or hadn’t bothered to pass on the information on the gang I’d infiltrated.

  My teeth ground together, the noise loud to my own ears. I didn’t shift my gaze from the superintendent. Seconds later, he lifted his gaze to meet mine. All his hatred was there in the depths of his grey eyes. He’d never masked his dislike of me, and I got it, I was an acquired taste. But I was a good officer. I cared and I wanted to make a difference. He’d slowly punched his way through that desire until all I felt was frustration that I was no longer making a difference to anyone.

  “What was so urgent that I needed to rearrange my appointments?”

  The snap to his voice set my teeth on edge. My fingers continued to tap against my knee as I took a deep breath in a bid to hold back my own anger—just. “Last weekend. Did you pass along the information we discussed?”

  The accusation in my voice couldn’t be helped, his only response to raise his brows. “I said I would.”

  “But, did you pass it along?” I snapped.

  He leaned forward, his arms resting on the desk and his top lip curling back in a sneer. “You didn’t give me a time-frame, Detective.”

  What the fuck? Was this guy for real?

  I dug my fingers into my leg. “That information was pertinent to the investigation. It needed to be passed along straightaway. When have I ever had to name a time when you needed to do that?” Pleased that it had come out sounding reasonable, I used the pain in my thigh to keep my focus.

  “Listen Detective, you are not the only officer under my command. Are you suggesting I should drop everything for you?” The ugly sneer was back, only this time disdain was present in his voice too.

  I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you for real? Those men that were being transported in the back of that fucking truck died because you didn’t deem it as important to pass on the information.”

  The superintendent was up and out of the chair, his hands slammed down on the desk making the computer rattle. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

  I got up slowly, using my height to my advantage to loom over him. “I’m talking to you. I’m talking to a senior officer who should have seen fit to pass on information to the investigating team so that those men could have been found.” The quiet of my voice didn’t hide my anger as we glared at each other over the table.

  “You’re overstepping by questioning my authority.”

  “What authority? You’ve got your head stuck so far up your own arse you’ve forgotten what good police work is. People died.”

  His face turned an ugly shade of red, and I was sure that his blood pressure must have been hitting the ceiling, but I didn’t give a shit. I’d come here to talk. Okay, I’d come here to fight.

  “Get out of my office. Go home and cool off before I report you for insubordination.”

  I narrowed my eyes, understanding dawning that he knew he’d fucked up. There was no way I should be given a pass after speaking to him the way I had. “I want a transfer out of here, and I want it tomorrow.”

  “You do not get to dictateꟷ”

  “You fucked up, or else you’d have reprimanded me.” I slammed my hands down on the desk and got in his face, letting all of my anger show. “I want out. Now. I know you can do it. There’s a position for a handler advertised in the Met. I’ll take that.” I didn’t care that it meant uprooting my life. I needed out. I needed to escape and figure out what the fuck I was going to do with my life. I needed to get away from this a-hole before I did something I couldn’t take back.

  After a minute of tense silence, he gave a stilted nod. “I’ll speak with someone and see what I can do.”

  “You do that.”

  Those words rang through my head. He’d done as I’d requested and I’d been transferred without any hassle. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t marked my cards with the senior ranking officers. I wasn’t stupid. Far from it.

  “Tegan, you’re free to go in now,” said Sally, the shy redhead who was DS Kensington’s secretary in a quiet voice. She looked like she’d jump at her own shadow.

  I got up, giving her a friendly smile before knocking and then heading into the office.

  DS Kensington looked up with a distracted smile. “Have a seat. I’ve gone through all your paperwork and you’ll be pleased to know that you’ll be going back into fieldwork.”

  I grinned.

  He shuffled some papers on his desk. “Let me fill you in.”

  Dom’s Haven

  Shivers wracked my body as I surfaced from a well of feverish pain. The mattress under me was soaked with… I assumed sweat from the smell of me. My eyelids flickered open as I registered the utter silence in the room. I didn’t move a muscle while I strained to hear any sounds. Had they all gone? Was I alone? The continued silence caused a tiny flutter of panic in my chest.

  They’ve gone!

  A tear leaked down my bruised cheek. I was conflicted at being left behind, my body deemed unfit for the evening’s entertainment. Guilt coated my throat, my chest burning as I attempted to stay still and not show any signs that I’d woken. It was a mind fuck to be left behind, and I hated it despite knowing the torment I would have suffered had I been chosen to play. My heart ached with the knowledge that Immy would worry for me, that he’d have hated to leave me, as I had him.

  The devastation at waking alone in this place had turned to numbness once Immy had arrived. I’d clung on to his hope. Yet, nothing had changed. Our situation had remained the same. The monsters had sucked the hope from my soul, until there wasn’t even a slither of it left. Immy reminded me daily of the promise we’d made to each other, that we’d be strong, that we’d get the other one through this nightmare. I didn’t want to leave Immy alone, but my body, my mind… they no longer wanted to battle against the evil that was doled out.

  There was nothing but weakness, pain and fear, and I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t!

  All I wanted to do was rejoice in the blackness and never return. Was it so wrong to want to be rid of agony, of suffering?

  More tears leaked from my swollen eyes as I sniffed, gagging at the rancid stench I hadn’t noticed while lost in my own misery. Was one of my wounds infected? Tilting my head to sniff myself, I realised that the stench wasn’t coming from me. I smelt bad, but not like that. Immy’s cage was empty, so I could only guess that it was coming from the cage on the other side of me. Did I want to look? The stench was impossible to ignore, the need to look too great to deny. Had he died? Had he managed to achieve what I’d begged for?

  Pain stole my breath, my chest and stomach heaving as I turned my head sideways. In the dim light all I could make out was the lump on the mattress. I couldn’t see the boy’s face, a boy who I’d never spoken to for fear of retribution. There was one hard rule—no talking. Immy had broken that rule.

  I attempted to take another breath, my nose filling with the same scent of putrid flesh. It was one I’d become all too familiar with in this place. It was a scent that often came from a sub when a certain Dom had come to play. He was the worst of them all. He didn’t stick to any boundaries, and we all dreaded his arrival. He was vile, sadistic and perverted. It was there in his eyes, and in his actions. He was an animal who tore at his prey, piece by piece. Then he’d eat their pain and suffering like it was a banquet to be enjoyed. Too often subs were left in the cage, and this scent would follow. And then they were taken out of the door.

  Everyone feared this man. Even the other Dom’s who were sick perverts avoided pissing this particular man off. He wasn’t choosy about who he strapped to the torture device he’d
chosen for the night. There was only one saving grace—this Dom didn’t attend the club on a regular basis like many of the others did. It had taken only one night of witnessing what he was capable of to leave me terrified.

  In the beginning, I’d tried to figure out a pattern, figuring that I could push one of the other Dom’s hard enough that they would hurt me badly enough that I wouldn’t be taken from the cage on the days when this particular Dom would come to play. Only, with pain stealing my sanity, all I’d done was make myself more aware of the endless seconds, minutes, hours and days as I counted them off while trapped in purgatory.

  I shifted carefully on the lumpy mattress, only not carefully enough. An anguished cry escaped from me, something inside my chest making it difficult to breathe. The wounds that burned, the bruises that throbbed faded to minor irritants given the agonising effort it took to suck air into my lungs.

  Was this it? Had they finally done enough damage to my body to end it?

  My heart fluttered with excitement at the prospect. Did it make me sick to want death? Who cares what it makes you?

  Immy cares.

  The sob got caught in my chest, the pain making it impossible to let it out. The rough mattress beneath me brushed cruelly at scabs that had formed on my skin. I clenched my jaw so hard to stay silent that it hurt, a burning starting deep inside me.

  “The cameras are watching you,” the sly voice said with glee.

  The sound of heavy footsteps came down the stairs, a ripple of terror running through me. Had they heard me? Had they seen me looking at the other cage?

  My pulse skittered in fright, my chest becoming immobile as I heard voices.

  “I told you he’s fucking septic. It stinks down here,” an all too familiar voice growled with menace.

  “You should have told me.”

  “What do you think I’m doing? Riley, you need to have a fucking word with him. After what he did to Beck, I’m not keeping my bloody trap shut. I value my arse too much.”

  “You’re fucking askin’ for trouble by even mentioning that shit out loud.”

  Riley’s tone sent shivers through me.

  “Keep your fucking hair on. He’s not even here. You need to talk to him about breaking the merchandise. How the fuck will we keep the other members happy if he continues to do... this?”

  The sound of booted feet stopped shy of my cage, and I willed the air in my lungs—what little there was of it anyway—to stay put.

  “Looks like we won’t have to—”

  “Shut it, Vic, for fuck’s sake! Are you determined to meet the same fucking fate as Beck?”

  There was a grunt. I was convinced I could feel the weight of their stares on me while I struggled to remain still. A part of me wanted them to come and end it, but knowing my luck they wouldn’t do the job right, and I’d wake up.

  Seconds seemed to stretch before there was the sound of jangling keys and a cage door creaking open. There were several curses, and then the sound of the sub being dragged across the concrete floor as if he was nothing more than a bag of rubbish.

  That’s what you are to them, a nothing.

  More tears leaked from my eyes as the numbness spread deeper into my bones. The voices sounded far away, waves of dizziness causing flashes of white to appear behind my eyelids. Maybe this time I’d be lucky.

  I clung to that hope as the world receded to total blackness, a place I loved.

  Tucker

  Thursday came around far too quickly for my liking, Jup still struggling to fight past his anxieties about someone coming into the house on top of everything else. He was currently hiding upstairs, using the pretence that something needed cleaning. It was total bollocks, the house was already cleaner than a bloody hospital.

  There was no point arguing about it, so I’d let him go, hoping he’d appear without me having to go and fetch him once Phil arrived. I stood from the kitchen table and walked over to the open back door to look out into the garden. My hands trembled as I shoved them into the pockets of my shorts.

  Staring out into the enclosed garden, my mind went over what I was proposing to do. During the last two days I’d spent time researching Phil Knight and Security Specialist Advisors (SSA), the firm he owned. After speaking to Jup and going through my finances, I’d worked out that if I was careful I could pay for six months of having someone stay with Jup before I’d run out of cash.

  The only thing holding me back was the possibility of breaking yet more rules. It was becoming a habit. But with all the worry churning inside me about going undercover, what else could I do?

  Quit and do something else.

  I groaned aloud as the thought popped into my head when I’d already discounted it. Was that a better option than putting Jup’s life in the hands of a stranger? Who bloody knew? I didn’t have a lot of options available to me. There was no other way out of the hole I was in unless something miraculous happened. And after the meeting with my new boss, I’d given up on believing in miracles.

  The sound of the doorbell ringing pulled my gaze from the garden. After saying a silent prayer that this wasn’t going to be a monumental mistake, I headed out of the kitchen. I hadn’t quite reached the door when the bell rang a second time. The silence from upstairs made my gut take a nosedive. Should I answer the door or go in search of Jup? You have no choice. This man could solve at least a part of your problem.

  What, by crossing another line?

  You already did that when you took Jup.

  “Fuck’s sake!” I unlocked the door with hands that could have watered a garden, given the sweat slicking my palms.

  The man’s expression was hidden behind dark aviator sunglasses. He was dressed all in black, with trousers that looked more like army fatigue wear given their multiple pockets. His jacket was similar. A laptop case caught my eye, the reality of what I was about to do front and centre.

  “Tucker Parks?”

  “Yeah, sorry. It’s Phil Knight, right?” He nodded and I stepped to the side. “Come in.”

  I closed the door and led Phil through the house to the kitchen. I offered him a seat at the table as he removed his sunglasses and put them in his pocket.

  “Do you want a drink? Tea, coffee, something cold?”

  “I wouldn’t say no to a soft drink if it’s cold. I don’t care what it is.” He placed his laptop case on the table and then removed his jacket.

  The laptop taunted me with the potential information it held as I moved around the kitchen to retrieve glasses and two cans of Sprite from the fridge. After pouring the other man’s drink, I settled opposite him, my glass and can in front of me. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to swallow, but it gave me something to do with my hands as I opened the can and poured the fizzy liquid into my glass.

  The task gave me a moment to consider my words carefully. “Before we start, I want assurances that what we discuss remains strictly between us.”

  Phil’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  The blunt question helped to settle the nerves wanting to take charge. I took a deep breath and dived off yet another cliff, hoping the water was deep enough to stop me from breaking my damn fool neck. “Because what I’m about to discuss requires discretion… and trust.”

  From the information I’d mined from the internet, Phil Knight had appeared—on the surface anyway—to be trustworthy, with a business that many rated as exceptional. I understood that the information could be misleading, the internet was full of it. With the conversation I’d had at The Playroom still fresh in my mind, I was going to have to have faith in my own instincts, the ones that said Phil Knight could be trusted… with at least some of my secrets.

  His dark brows rose, Phil remaining silent for a few seconds as he digested my comment.

  I took a drink to moisten my mouth.

  A furrow appeared on Phil’s brow. “Do we need to draw up some sort of agreement before we start talking?”

  I gave a wry chuckle. “I’m not sure that writing down what I’
m about to suggest would be a good thing for either me or you.” I waved a hand around the room. “I know my home is secure.” I glanced at the laptop, then back to Phil. “There is no possible way that what we are about to discuss can be recorded.”

  Phil sat forward, his jaw firming and his dark eyes flashing fire. “Understood.” The calm way he spoke was in contrast to his expression.

  “Good, now that we’ve cleared that up”—I threw a quick glance to the hallway—"can you tell me what you know about Dom’s Haven? And do you have men in there gathering information on what’s going on?”

  Phil had followed my gaze, but whatever he was thinking he kept to himself. “It’s probably better that I start at the beginning as to why I became interested in Dom’s Haven.” He picked up his own drink and took a sip before placing the glass back down. “A while back, a concerned family member approached my firm, requesting our services to search for their missing son. This was after they’d already been to the police and they hadn’t shown much interest in helping them.”

  Phil paused to take another drink while I resisted the urge to argue and provide stats on the number of people reported missing every year.

  “The son had recently come out as gay to his parents, and they hadn’t taken it too well. It seems there was an argument and the son disappeared three days later, and no one has seen or heard from him since. His bank account hasn’t been accessed, nor has he returned to his apartment or gone to work. The family as you can imagine are beside themselves with worry.”

  I shifted forward at the similarities between this missing man and others I’d encountered, gripping my glass as Phil continued to talk.

  “As a last resort they came to me. I have some technical ability with computers, and was able to hack into the son’s computer and piece together some of what he’d done on those last couple of days before he disappeared. He filled out an application form for Dom’s Haven as a sub. On the form, there’s a part for next of kin.”

  The air in the room thickened, or at least it felt like it had, my chest starting to burn from lack of oxygen. I didn’t need to hear what came next; it was all too familiar.