Risk: Triple R Security, Book 1

by Imogen Wells

  “Just fucking spit, it out, Sully,” I growl at him around a mouthful of sandwich.

  “I got a call this afternoon,” I go to stand but Sully waves his hand gesturing for me stay sitting, and I see in his eyes that Cam is fine, “from a cop in Manchester. They identified the guy from the hotel, found him dead at his house. That’s the file there, nothing much to go on; lives on his own, not married and no kids, likes to gamble, a little too much, so that could be something to look at. He’s bound to owe someone money, which means he’d be desperate enough to work off his debt or do a job for a decent amount of money.”

  “For fuck sakes. Every time we get a lead they disappear or turn up dead. He’s always one step ahead. He has to have someone on the inside, especially to get that footage of me and Cam.”

  “I agree, and last night, setting you up, there’s only a few that knew about your movements.” I nod, quickly running the names through my head and not liking any of it. “So, what happened tonight? Although, I can have a pretty good guess.”

  I run Sully through what went down at the yard and warehouse, we go over the dead guy’s file and set one of the guys on possible leads. Then we discuss our leak and put a plan together to catch them. After that, I head upstairs to try and get some shut eye before I drive back to Manchester this afternoon.

  Twenty-Five

  Camryn

  Light pours in through the open blinds, and I scrunch my eyes shut as I search for my phone to check the time. Finding it, I bring it to my face and crack a single eye open. When I can finally focus enough to see what the time is, I throw the covers off and run for the shower. I overslept, no surprise there after staying up half the night, and then crying myself to sleep.

  The shower does fuck all to lighten my mood or make me feel any way near to being human. I dress in the first thing I pull from my bag. The simple black trousers and white blouse are in desperate need of an iron, but I don’t give a shit. I make a quick cup of tea before blow drying my hair and slapping some make up on my face, but it does nothing to hide the dark circles under my eyes. I gulp down my tea, grabbing my handbag and attempt to put my shoes on as I rush for the lift.

  As the lift comes to a halt and the doors open, my stomach pitches and saliva pools in my mouth, I slam a hand over my mouth as I make a dash for the nearest bathroom. I crash into the cubicle, making it just in time, and no longer able to hold back the contents of my stomach as it’s ejected into the toilet.

  What a shitty Monday! After a quick clean up, I dart back to the lobby, only to run into Scott as I exit the bathroom.

  “Oomph! Shit, sorry,” I shriek, as Scott grabs my arm to stop me falling. He frowns down at me, as I crane my neck to look at him.

  “Are you okay?” he demands. His gruff tone belies the concern in his eyes. And I thought Ryder was hard to read, this guy wins the medal for how to keep a girl guessing.

  “Yes. I’m fine, thank you,” I say, pulling my arm free of his grasp. Stepping round him to avoid answering any more questions. I don’t need him calling Ryder because there’s no way I can handle his interrogation tactics, no matter how deliciously torturous they are. It’s not like I can talk to him about what’s going on. No, that’s just another bomb waiting to explode in my face, and until then it’s silent ticking is a constant reminder of all the secrets I hide.

  Scott trails behind me, opening the car door when we reach it, but the mask stays firmly in place. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was some kind of AI robot for all the emotion he shows. Slipping into the back, I rest my head on the headrest, closing my eyes and willing my stomach to settle. Thank god the drive to the office isn’t too far, otherwise I might be paying for a valet service.

  I’m busy, which is great for keeping my mind occupied, but it’s like I’m crawling through molasses. My head hurts, and my eyes feel like someone threw sand in them. By lunch time I’m about ready to collapse. I still haven’t eaten anything and have only managed to drink a bottle of water.

  I have no idea where to go or what to do with the information someone kindly dropped in my lap last night. The only person I can possibly talk to about this is Jamie, but even that plan goes out the window when around 3pm she calls telling me she’s been discharged. Not wanting to go back to the house, not that I blame her, neither do I, she’s going to stay at her parent’s house for a while.

  I finally pack up to leave around 5pm, with my head about ready to explode and throbbing like there’s a steel band inside my brain. I rub my temples as I wait for my computer to log off. Once it’s done, I switch the light off as I leave.

  Scott is alone when I reach the lobby, and I don’t have the capacity to care or even ask where Russ is as I follow him to the car.

  “Are we going to the hospital, Camryn?” Scott asks, as he starts the car, and pulls away from the curb.

  “No, not today. Jamie’s been discharged and has gone to her parent’s house to recover,” I reply, a little dejectedly, but then feel guilty for my bitterness. I’m not even sure why I’m so sad, I should be happy she’s okay, and I am, but…I don’t fucking know. I just want to crawl into bed and forget this day ever happened, but I won’t. I’m not going back to that place, I’m going to uncover what it is this person obviously wanted me to know, and then I’m going to do whatever it takes to get justice for my mum and daughter. I close my eyes to block out the light and hope it eases the drumming in my head.

  I must drift off, coming awake with a start and surprised to see we are still on the road. Looking around, I have no idea where we are, and the fact it’s almost dark outside is no help. We seem to be on a small country lane, street lamps are few and far between, and the road is made darker by the tall trees that line the roadside. Wherever we are, we are not in the city anymore.

  My mind begins running possible reasons as to why we aren’t back at Ryder’s. None of them are good and all involve Sean. I slide up in my seat as my heart begins to race at the idea Scott is taking me to Sean, but I tell myself not to panic yet. Scott catches my eye in the rear-view mirror before quickly flicking past me to the road behind. I’m just about to ask Scott where we’re going when headlights blare through the back window, lighting the car up from behind. I spin in my seat, but it’s too bright. Turning back round, a muttered ‘Fuck’ comes from Scott.

  “What’s going on, Scott? Where are we?” There’s an edge of fear in my voice, and when Scott doesn’t answer, that fear unfurls, burrowing and taking root deep inside. Instead of letting it take control, I channel it into anger. “Scott, what the fuck is going on?” I bark at him. “Now is not the time for stoicism or keeping me in the dark as some twisted form of protection, that’s bullshit. So, start fucking talking,” I demand, reaching out a hand to the seat in front, steadying myself as Scott takes a sharp turn.

  “We’re going to Seb’s,” he states. His tone is matter of fact as his eyes flick up to the rear-view mirror, and for the first time, I can read what he’s not saying perfectly. His next words confirm that things are not good. Not good at all. “I thought I lost this fucker,” he snarls, as his lip curls, baring his teeth.

  Well, I wanted more emotion, I certainly got it. I was thinking more along the lines of a smile maybe, not a ‘shit yourself and run for your life’ inducing snarl, but beggars can’t be choosers. Scott’s cell lights up, then a deep gravelly voice comes over the speaker.

  “Scott. How far out are you?”

  “About fifteen minutes. Thought I’d lost him, but the fucker is tenacious I’ll give him that.”

  “Okay, keep on the route I gave you. I’m leaving now. Stay safe, both of you.” That last part is delivered with a thinly veiled warning, but I don’t have time to think on it too much as we are bumped from behind. Scott keeps us steady, hitting the accelerator and taking turns like a rally driver.

  We manage to stay ahead, but as we reach a crossroads, the car behind speeds up. Scott spins the wheel to take a left, the clang of metal meeting metal rings out as
the car behind smashes into the left rear end, sending us spiralling out of control. Dust flies up as we careen across the road, breaks pierce the unnaturally quiet night sky, and the smell of burning rubber assaults my nose as we skid on the tarmac.

  Time seems to slow, spinning, spinning, and then the road falls away below us as the car begins to roll. My head smashes against the window, and something wet and warm trickles down my face and into my eye. The sound of glass shattering and metal crunching penetrates the fog in my mind, and pain explodes in my leg as we come to a grinding halt. Screaming. Someone’s screaming.

  I hear my name being called, but I can’t focus on anything but the burning pain that’s tearing up my leg.

  “Camryn. Camryn. Listen to me, you need to be quiet.” Scott’s groggy voice prods at the edge of my consciousness, and I try to latch on to it, letting it draw me back as I block out the pain. “Stay still, Camryn. Focus on me, just breathe, I’ll get you out. Stay with me, you’re fine.” Scott’s voice is lower now, and I wonder if I’m losing consciousness.

  I hear tyres crunching on gravel and the low hum of an engine as light flashes through the window. The sound of a car door closing echoes through the air before muffled footsteps and twigs snapping underfoot reaches me. My heart pounds in my ears, as I reach for the seat belt button, pushing down on it, but it holds firm. I begin frantically pushing it again and again until it finally clicks, releasing me. I can’t hear Scott anymore, and when I look over to him, he’s slumped over the wheel. Fuck!

  “Scott. Scott, wake up, someone’s coming,” I hiss, reaching forward to shake his shoulder. I grit my teeth as pain flares in my leg. I ignore it, grabbing his seat and using it to pull myself forward. “Scott, fucking wake up,” I rasp, as more pain assaults me.

  Movement outside the car draws my attention as the silhouette of a man stalks through the trees. I try waking Scott one more time with no luck before dropping back into my seat. I begin searching for something I can use as a weapon but come up empty. There’s no way I can run as I look down at the shard of glass sticking out of my leg, and if I’m right and this is Sean taking back his property, then I know whomever is out there won’t kill me. I just hope they don’t hurt Scott. Sagging back in my seat, I try to slow my breathing and hope that the darkness hides any evidence of the pain I’m in.

  I wait for what feels like a lifetime before the sound of the car door being wrenched open comes. I keep completely still, then I feel the seat beside me dip as someone leans in. When their breath whispers over my cheek, it takes every ounce of restraint not to cringe and move away. Their scent invades my senses, and I freeze instantly as cold dread rolls through me. Lewis.

  “Sweet, sweet, Kasey,” he mocks, as a hand fists the front of my top, dragging me across the seats. I can’t help the cry that bursts from me at the movement. “Tut, tut, tut, thinking you can fool me. You might have changed your name but you’re still the same stupid bitch you always were,” he snickers, as I’m pulled from the car, crashing to the ground when he lets me go.

  “Fuck you, Lewis!” I spit at him; I’m almost certain he can’t kill me. He’s already hurt me in every way possible in the past, so screw cowering to him or anyone else anymore. He lets out a full belly laugh, then he fists my hair in his hand as he starts hauling me through the trees towards his car. “Aaargh!” I shriek, “You sick piece of shit. Getting off on hurting woman makes you a fucking coward.” Ignoring the throbbing in my leg, I start kicking and thrashing about. If he thinks I’m going to come quietly, he couldn’t be more fucking wrong. I scream out, over and over until my voice is hoarse, but I don’t give up.

  Suddenly the hold on my hair is gone, and I’m dropped to the ground, only to receive a boot to the ribs as I try to catch my breath. My side aches, but I scramble backwards, kicking out with my good leg, catching him in the knee and causing him to stumble. Slamming into a tree, I grip the base, shimmying my hands up and getting to my feet just in time to dodge the fist flying towards my face. The action causes me to lose my balance slightly, but I hobble upright, turning to try and make a run for it when the snick of a gun sounds behind me.

  “I’ll blow your fucking brains out, cunt, if you so much as twitch.” The threat clear as the barrel pushes into the back of my head.

  I freeze, I’m prepared to fight, but I’m not stupid. I heave out a sigh, my hot breath coming out in a cloud as it meets the cold night air. “You can’t kill me, Lewis, it would be more than your life’s worth and you know it,” I state, hoping to buy some time while I search for a way out.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” he wagers. “Do you think I couldn’t make it look like an accident? Believe me, I’ve had plenty of practice getting rid of whores that cause problems. Sean likes his bitches to be submissive, compliant and do as their fucking told. Disposing of sluts that become more trouble than they are worth is a piece of piss, especially, interfering mothers and their whinging daughter,” he jibes.

  His words hit their mark as I suck in a breath that catches in my throat. My chest aches, my heart breaking apart thinking about my mum and daughter, but then something about what he said has me pausing. Forgetting about the gun to my head, I go to spin round just as a deafening crack echoes through the night.

  I’m falling and then everything goes black.

  Twenty-Six

  Blue

  I woke around 11am, only managing a few hours of decent sleep. That thread of worry hasn’t left me, in fact, if anything it’s worse today. I called Scott around lunchtime to check on Cam, he told me she overslept, but otherwise, everything was fine. I let him know that I’ll be leaving at 4pm and depending on traffic, I should be home around 8pm tonight.

  I spend a couple of hours in the gym, hoping to work out some of the left-over aggression from last night and shake off this feeling that something is wrong.

  When I come downstairs after my shower, Sully is just coming in the front door.

  “Hey, man. Did you manage to get some sleep?” he asks, meeting me at the bottom of the stairs. “Ooh, nice bruises. I don’t need to ask how the other guys look,” he says, laughing.

  “Yeah, a few hours anyway. What you got there?” I say, pointing to the folder in his hands. He waves it in the air, beckoning for me to follow him as he strides away towards his office. Inside he rounds the desk, sitting down and motioning for me to sit too. That’s never a good sign.

  “What’s going on? ‘Cause I got to tell you, something is seriously fucking with my head. I think we are missing something,” I tell him, dropping into the seat and resting my elbows on my knees, eager to hear what he has to say.

  “So, this morning someone sent me these.” He slides the folder across the desk to me. “We already knew that there was something suspicious about the accident that killed Faye and Lorraine, but this…” he gestures to the papers I’m currently flicking through, “proves we were right.”

  The folder contains a dozen or more articles covering the accident, some have highlighted sections. But the one thing that has my attention is the last document. It’s an autopsy report of Cam’s mum, Lorraine, stating cause of death as asphyxiation.

  “How is this possible? The autopsy report we have states she died of internal bleeding, so how can this be?” The question is completely rhetorical because we already know how. What we still don’t fully understand is the why. Sean’s a fucking psycho, but I’m not sure he’s crazy enough to kill his own daughter. I guess it’s something I couldn’t possibly comprehend.

  “It gets worse, whoever sent these to me also sent the newspaper articles to Cam,” he tells me, eyebrows raised in question.

  “Fuck! Cam must be freaking the fuck out. Scott said she overslept this morning, and I bet this is why.” I wave the stack of papers at him.

  “No doubt. Does she know you know about Faye? Has she mentioned her at all?” His questions are tentative knowing it’s a sore subject. I just shake my head at him, running a hand through my hair. “Ry, you need to tell he
r. If you really care about her.” My gaze snaps to his. “I’m not questioning it, I’m just saying that it needs to come from you, man.”

  I throw the articles down on the desk, leaning back in my chair. “She blows my mind, Sully. I used to think that everything we saw and went through on tour was bad, but this crazy, beautiful, strong woman has suffered more pain than even the strongest of men could endure. She calms my demons, but raises the beast in me, ready to fight to the death for her. If she feels even half of what I feel for her, it’s going to break her heart when she finds out just how much I know. I don’t want to be responsible for that, man.”

  “I get it, Ry, I really do, but that’s not reason enough to hold back. You said yourself she’s strong, she’ll deal with it, but if you want her, to keep her after this is done, then she’s going to need to know she can trust you. Trust me, nothing good will come from hiding the truth, even when you think you’re protecting the people you love.” Sadness laces his words, and I’m all too aware where his mind just went.

  “You’ve changed your tune from the last time we spoke about her, so what gives?” I leave the question to hang there, but when he doesn’t reply and just gives me raised brows, I continue as though I hadn’t asked. “I’ll tell her, soon. Now, what are we going to do about this?” I ask, glancing at my watch and seeing it’s almost four.

  “Leave it with me, I’ll do some more digging. Sean’s not the only one who has a coroner in his pocket. As for Cam, maybe she’ll open up on her own after getting sent this shit. Sure is going to leave her questioning everything she thought she knew,” he tells me, as I rise to my feet. “Drive safe and I’ll call when I have anything.”

  “Will do, thanks, Sully. Give Max a big hug for me, catch you later.” I hurry up the stairs, grabbing my phone and jacket, then I’m out the door.

  The fucking M25 is jammed, nothing unusual there. Finally turning off onto the M40, I relax a little knowing I’ll be back with Cam soon. After driving for a little over an hour, I see a sign for services up ahead and desperate for a piss, I change lanes ready to turn off.