Risk: Triple R Security, Book 1

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Risk: Triple R Security, Book 1 Page 1

by Imogen Wells




  Risk

  Imogen Wells

  Contents

  Foreword

  RISK

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Risk

  Copyright © 2020 by Imogen Wells

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by LJ Designs

  Foreword

  Note from the Author

  This book contains scenes and themes that some readers may find upsetting and/or offensive. Scenes of explicit sex and violence and profanity can be found in the pages that follow.

  The author is British, and British English spellings and phrases are used throughout.

  RISK

  When Camryn Moore set out to start a new life, she always knew that her past would catch up to her.

  She thought she had more time before he found her. Before she’d have to face her nightmares, her guilt and her shame.

  When she receives a message reminding her of why she left, she makes a decision that will change her life forever.

  What Camryn wasn’t expecting was Ryder ‘Blue’ Hawkins.

  Blue barrels into her life exuding danger and a darkness that should have her running the other way.

  Camryn never expected that his kind of darkness would call to her and have her wishing for things she’d given up hope of ever having.

  Can Camryn take the risk she vowed never to take again?

  One

  Kasey

  For me right now, life sucks big time! At 25 years old you’d think that the world would be my oyster. Cliché, I know. It couldn’t be further from the truth, though. I’m currently hiding out in a rundown B&B in some shit town I don’t even want to be in. This room is about as appealing as a case of gastroenteritis and most likely what I’ll end up with after staying here. I don’t even have the small luxury of my own bathroom, oh no, instead I have to share one pokey little bathroom with the rest of the unsavoury occupants. It’s like a walking advertisement for an STD!

  The room contains a single bed that looks ready to collapse as soon as you touch it, with a throw that’s completely threadbare and faded. The wallpaper is a throwback from the 60s, with a vulgar green floral pattern that’s peeling from damp in the corners of the room. There’s also a questionable stain splattered above the rickety metal headboard. Ewwww!

  Dumping my bag on the floor, I head to the one window in the room. Dark brown velvet curtains block any light from outside, and as I attempt to draw one back, the distinct pinging sound of a hook breaking echoes around the room. Outside, the rain continues pelting the window as a cold draft seeps through, sending a shiver through me. Yeah, inside’s just as dreary as outside. Like I said, life sucks, but at least I’m alive.

  Snatching my bag up, I pull out the map I’ve been using and tentatively lower myself to the bed. I hold my breath, the old frame creaks and groans as I finally rest all my weight on it, but it holds. Spreading the map on the bed, I begin to plot my next move. This would be so much easier with my phone, but it’s one of the many things I had to leave behind.

  To be honest, I’m safer without it right now, he probably put some sort of tracking device or app on it anyway. With limited cash, a phone is the least of my worries.

  I shake my head to clear the images racing through my mind. My bruises throb in recognition of memories I refuse to get sucked into. I need to focus on finding somewhere I can start afresh and forget the last four years of my life. I also need to see about getting a new identity.

  Luckily, before I left, I was able to get an address from Tyler for someone who might be able to help me. For the right price, of course.

  The question is, what’s it going to cost me, and will I be willing to pay no matter what?

  I spend an hour trying to decide where to go next, then finally narrow it down to a couple of places. Unable to make a definite decision, I decide on a quick shower. I need to wash away the grime and sweat from travelling for the last 24 hours. Grabbing a clean set of clothes and the limited toiletries I was able to pack, I head to the bathroom. Thank the lord there’s a lock.

  I hurry through my shower and get dressed just as my stomach growls in protest at not being fed. Seeing the time is just approaching 7pm, I decide to venture out for some food.

  The B&B sits in a small side road just a ten-minute walk from Peterborough train station, and I head back that way remembering that there was a small café across the road. It’s almost dark outside, and the street is quiet. Pulling my hood up over my head I walk quickly. The rain has stopped, thankfully, and a damp, earthy smell lingers in the air.

  Once I get out on to the main road, I turn right towards the café that sits just up ahead on the corner. I cross over and make my way through the throng of people that just got off the train. Most are men in business suits, carrying briefcases. A few are younger, dressed ready for a night on the town. Young and carefree. That used to be me, before him! Or more accurately when I met him.

  Twenty-one, dressed to the nines, happy and confident. Me and the girls, Laura and Sam, had gone out to celebrate Laura’s new job.

  After graduating with a degree in marketing and advertisement, Laura had landed a job at a huge London based marketing firm, and in celebration we’d gone to one of the many clubs in London. We’d had a blast, drinks a plenty and laughed so hard my sides had hurt.

  Towards the end of the night I’d been on the dance floor, completely lost in the music. Body swaying, arms in the air, next thing I knew there were hands on my hips and heat at my back. Before I got the chance to spin and face my ‘handsy’ dance partner, warm minty breath brushed my neck, followed by a deep, husky voice whispering in my ear.

  ‘Hey, beautiful’. Utterly mesmerised by his beautifully rich voice, and with a buzz from all the cocktails I’d drunk, we danced till the end of the song. When I finally turned around, I was met by the deepest, darkest brown eyes I’d ever seen. The rest, as they say, is history.

  Now, had I not been young and naïve, or in hindsight, stupid, and completely enamoured with the hot, well mannered, flatterer, I may have seen beneath the beautiful veneer to the manipulative, arrogant arseh
ole of a man he was. Like I said, hindsight!

  A bell above the door rings as I enter the café, and the smell of fried food and oil assaults my nose. Inside there is a short, bald Turkish man behind the counter frying chips. The only other customer is an elderly gentleman, reading a newspaper and nursing a cup of tea. Nodding in greeting to the man behind the counter, I head to a table and take a seat. Picking up the laminated double-sided menu, I scan it for something to fill the hollowness in my stomach. If only it was that simple.

  This hollowness is a deep, dark pit of despair and fear, nothing to do with food.

  When the waitress comes to take my order, I pick the first thing on the menu. It’s not going to matter what it is because I won’t taste any of it. I order a tea to wash it down.

  While I wait for my food, I watch the world outside. Purposely picking a table near the back and facing the door gives me the advantage of watching who comes and goes.

  My dad was a Marine, and I always remember that no matter where we were, he would take up the best vantage point. I can hear him now, “You gotta cover all entrances and exits Kasey. It means the difference between breathing another day”. God! I loved my dad.

  The day he died was the day my life turned to shit. I was the epitome of a ‘Daddy’s girl’. In my eyes that man was God, and I believed that he could’ve walked on water. It’s funny how one event can cause such devastation; a domino effect that would change the course of my life. Ultimately leading to me sitting in a shitty little café on the fucking run, from him!

  If my dad were still alive, would I be here now? Who the fuck knows! I guess that depends on whether you believe in fate, destiny, kismet, all that shit. Would things be as bad? I’d like to think not. I’d like to think that my dad would kick his scrawny little arse! Okay, so it’s hardly scrawny, but my dad would still kick his arse.

  Christ knows why I’m sitting here thinking about all this anyway, it’s not like just thinking about it will magically make it happen. Dad isn’t here, so suck it up Kasey!

  Lost in the memories of my dad, the swooshing of the double doors leading from the kitchen have me almost jumping out of my seat. The young girl who took my order earlier approaches with my food and tea, placing them on the table, she gives me a forced smile before walking back the way she came.

  I look down at my plate, stomach roiling at the idea of food, but I know I have to eat. Apparently, I ordered omelette and chips. The omelette looks a little grey, and the chips, obviously frozen, could have done with five minutes more in the fat fryer. Mind you, with the amount of oil covering them, I’m surprised they’re not still cooking on the plate. Reluctantly, I load my fork and eat.

  Pushing my plate away, I throw my napkin on top and pick up my tea. It looks like piss in a cup, but it’s wet and will have to do.

  The old man is still sitting in the corner when I get up to leave, and he looks up as I near his table.

  “It hurts to see such a pretty little thing looking so sad. How about a smile, you know, make an old man happy?” he rasps out, a wide, almost toothless grin on his face. I bite back the snarky reply itching to break free. I simply smile and keep walking. Just as I pass him, he murmurs, “Running is never the answer.” I stumble at his words but keep walking. I wish that were true, but I don’t have a choice.

  If I want to survive then I need to run and never stop.

  My walk back to the B&B is much quieter as most of the commuters from earlier are home in their cosy little houses with their lovely families.

  Then there’s me. I used to have that but not since I was a kid, before dad died. How many times over the years have I wished to turn back the clock? Quite honestly, I’ve lost count.

  Clearly from the old man’s comment my face must be really telling. Guess I better up my game and perfect my poker face.

  The following morning, I set out to meet Rick, Tyler’s contact, who’s hopefully going to help me with a new identity.

  Short on cash, I have no other option but to walk the three miles to where Tyler told me I would find this Rick guy.

  After an hour walk, I finally arrive at the address Tyler scribbled on a scrap of paper and palmed to me.

  The house sits on a quiet, well maintained and, surprisingly, wealthy well-off road. Hardly the type of road you’d expect a person involved in criminal activity to live, but what the hell would I know, right?

  As I approach the door, I can hear a voice inside, a child’s excited voice. I pause to listen and am surprised when the front door springs open. I don’t have time to breathe let alone move before a small boy barrels into me, almost knocking me off my feet. The only reason I don’t hit the deck in a crumpled heap is thanks to the hand that grips my forearm like a vice and propels me forward into a rock-hard chest.

  “Whoa there, darling. I got you.” His voice rumbles through his chest. I should know, seeing as my face is smashed up against it. I push back, and he releases me.

  My eyes widen as a tremor of fear runs through me, and my heart beats manically inside my chest. I take a couple of deep breaths to stave off the panic slowly rising in me. I tune out the worried voice of the boy who ploughed into me, who is currently clutching onto this guy’s leg. Instead, I focus my attention on inspecting the—Wow! Big guy. I mean, I’m no dwarf, and with heels I wouldn’t be far off his height, but this guy has muscles in all the right places.

  He’s wearing a pair of black ripped jeans and a black tee that does nothing to hide the muscles underneath. One arm is alive with swirling black tattoos that continue way beyond the cuff of his tee.

  My eyes rake over him, and when they reach his face, I’m met with a chiselled jaw covered in scruff that my body would love to feel brushed against my cheek. Woah. Where the hell did that thought come from. I’ve not felt an ounce of arousal in a long time, but I can’t help looking at his mouth and the perfect cupid’s bow and full biteable lower lip. Unable to take my eyes off his lips, I watch as one side kicks up in a devilish smirk. When his lips start moving, I’m so mesmerised I don’t even hear what he’s saying. The sudden click of fingers brings me out of my reverie.

  “Uhm. Sorry, what did you say?” I ask, shaking my head and looking up at him. I’m met with a pair of aviator sunglasses.

  “I said, see something you like, sweetheart? But I guess from that little display, verbal confirmation is not required,” he states with a chuckle, as he removes the glasses. He drops his head slightly making his browny-blond hair flop forwards. I feel a blush rise in my cheeks, and the blood in my veins begins to heat at the utter gall of the man.

  Yeah, I mean I was totally checking him out, but talk about ego the size of Everest. Before I can cut him to size, the boy, still clinging to his leg pipes up.

  “Can we go now, please? I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean to knock into the lady.”

  “Sure we can, and I know you didn’t. It’s all good, little man. I just need to talk to….” he pauses, waiting for me to give him my name. Ah, shit. I don’t want to give him my real name. Come on, think Kasey, think, but I don’t get a chance to reply as he answers for me.

  “Bambi here, then we’ll shoot, okay?” The boy nods. “Why don’t you go back inside, and I’ll come get you when I’m done, alright, bud?” Turning to me, the boy drops his chin and apologises before running off back into the house.

  “Bambi?” I look at him questioningly, his eyes light with humour. Sensing he’s not going to answer, I get back to why I came here. “I’m looking for Rick, is he here?” At that he grabs his chest in mock pain.

  “And there was me thinking it was my lucky day.” Noting the serious look on my face, he laughs. Dropping his hands, he turns back towards the house calling out for someone inside.

  This guy exudes danger, and alarms bells should be blaring in my head, but they’re not. I look him over, this time pausing on his arse in the tight black jeans that hug his figure. Not wanting to get busted checking him out again, I quickly look away down the road. I don’
t think I was as subtle as I thought when I feel eyes burning the side of my face, and I nervously bite the inside of my cheek.

  Relief floods me when I hear footsteps coming down the hall, and a few seconds later a guy, a few inches shorter than ‘pretty boy’ here, appears.

  “Blue. What’s up? I thought you and Max were heading to the park to…” the guy cuts off when he spots me. “Oh, man! I thought we talked about you bringing your latest fuck buddy round when Max is about.” His brows pull together in a fierce frown.

  I snort with disgust. Seriously. What in the hell kind of place has Tyler sent me to? I’m starting to think I don’t want or need this guy’s help. Turning around, I head back down the path and away from them. I can hear their muffled voices as I reach the gate.

  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, is a total man whore, and the other one, well, he helps people disappear. From the looks of him, literally and metaphorically. This might be a nice neighbourhood but these two, look like a kind of trouble I don’t need.

  Feet pound the pavement behind me, but I don’t stop. I don’t falter, just keep walking. I need to get out of here and find another way to disappear, screw the new ID.

 

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