by Imogen Wells
Her grip on my hair loosens as she comes down, and I kiss a path all the way up her stomach, pushing up her t-shirt, baring her breasts and nipping at them before taking her nipple into my mouth. With one hand, I free my cock, and it pulses in my grasp as I run my hand up and down the shaft.
Releasing her nipple, I crash my lips to hers as I enter her in one hard thrust, and she breaks the kiss, crying out. I slide one arm beneath her, to protect her back on the hard stairs, and then I fuck her. Each stroke, each thrust, of my cock inside her is like a vine wrapping around her and pulling her further into my heart, tethering her to me. As my own release nears, shivering up my spine, I know that no matter what, this woman will forever own my heart, and with that thought, I shatter, pumping my cum inside her and marking her as mine.
I pick her up and carry her to bed, still inside her and still semi-hard.
“Seb,” she whispers against my neck.
“Yeah, Firefly.”
“I think I might love you. Just a little bit.”
I stop at her words, unsure if I heard her correctly, but I soon realise she’s asleep. Damn. I was not expecting that. And I vow to myself, right there and then, to do everything I can to be worthy of her love.
For the first time ever, I start to believe that I’m nothing like my father.
The next morning after making breakfast, I sit down with Jamie and tell her about the job at Tempest.
“I fucking knew there was something sleezy about that guy Mark.” She visibly shudders just mentioning his name. I really hope she doesn’t do that tomorrow night if we see Mark. “So, this Natalia girl, have you found her yet?”
“No, not yet. And without her surname it’s looking unlikely we will. Not unless she turns up dead, which I hope doesn’t happen.”
“Hmmm,” Jamie muses. “Well, there haven’t been any more bodies, so that’s a good sign.”
“How are you not more freaked out about this?” I ask her, because honestly, I was expecting her to be more shocked.
“Ha, what? Were you expecting me to run around terrified and screaming? Come on, Seb, you know me better than that. I haven’t lived my life wrapped in bubble wrap, protected from the real horrors of this world. My dad’s a fucking journo for Christ’s sake. I’ve seen my fair share of darkness, especially recently. So, no I’m not going to fall apart, I’m not going to run away like a scared little girl, that’s never been me, and I’m not even that surprised.
“A few years back, a lorry driver was stopped by the cops, and when they asked to see what was in the back, he tried to make a run for it. When they opened it up, there were dozens of women inside. I say women but they were more like young girls, some as young as 14, and several of them were dead, so no, I’m not in the least bit surprised.” She has a pensive look on her face like she’s trying to remember something.
“What is it? What are you thinking about?”
“I was just trying to remember the name of the haulage company. Maybe they’re connected because they never were able to prosecute anyone for it. The driver was remanded in custody but died before he even got to trial. I’m almost certain my dad ran a piece on it, but it got pulled. It’s not a stretch that whoever is involved is someone high up. Not when you consider the clientele of Tempest.”
She’s not wrong about that. Most corruption and criminal activity comes from a position of power. My father is a perfect example. A judge who’s been known to take the occasional backhand here and there.
Jamie jumps up, bringing me out of my thoughts about my father, and dashes off upstairs without a word. She’s back two minutes later, laptop in hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Research,” is all she says as she powers it up.
I watch as her hands fly across the keyboard, with a deep look of concentration on her face. Her nose furrows at something on the screen and every now and then she chews her bottom lip. I’m grateful when my phone rings because my dick was starting to get hard. Seeing it’s Rick, I answer as I walk to the lounge.
Thirty-One
Jamie
I use Dad’s login to access the archives and type in haulage in the search bar. I use the filters to narrow it down to within the last five years. There are only three results, and the first two are stories about the impact of Brexit on British transportation.
I click the link for the last one and a new screen opens with the article my dad wrote on human trafficking following the discovery of the women I just told Seb about. My dad named the haulage company that owned the lorry, and although he didn’t directly accuse them of being involved, they took huge offence and put a claim in for defamation under the Defamation Act 2013. The court ordered my dad retract the statement and issue an apology for any harm caused to the company.
I quickly scan the article looking for the name of the company. “Got it,” I exclaim to myself as I see the name MWB Haulage. Opening a new window, I search MWB Haulage. The first result is their company information and link to their website. I search their whole website and there is no mention of who owns it. The only contact name is someone called N. Huntingdon. I sit back, thinking. I hear Seb finish his call, then come and stand behind me.
“What’s this?” he says pointing at the screen.
“This is the haulage company from the article I told you about.”
“I thought you said it got pulled?”
“It got retracted. Dad had to remove it, but he still has a copy in his archive. I may have used his login details to gain access.”
“Not just a pretty face and wild in bed but smart too.”
“Hey! I resent that,” I say, reaching up a hand behind me and tapping his face. “So, anyway, it’s a bit of a dead end. There’s no owner listed on their website, just a manager in the contacts list,” I tell him and point to the name with a shrug.
“Huntingdon?” Seb says the name like he’s testing out the sound of it. I click open another window realising I should be able to find the owner on Companies House. Every company is required by law to register with Companies House, and company details are public record.
As the screen loads, I feel Seb tense beside me, and when I turn to look at him, he’s scowling, and his nostrils are flaring.
“What’s wrong?”
“Huntingdon, I know that name and you will too.” He looks a little sick, and I don’t understand because I don’t know anyone by that name. “Just do what you’re doing, and I’ll explain in a minute.”
A little hesitantly, I go back to my search, typing in the company name, and once it loads, I click the People link. This time there’s no hesitation from Seb when the screen loads, just an excessive amount of swearing.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouts, spinning away from me. I read over the screen looking for what might have caused such as reaction, but I don’t recognise either of the names listed.
“Seb, what the hell is going on?”
He spins back round to face me, and I don’t like the look on his face at all. It’s anger and fear and something that looks like an apology. For what, I’m not sure, but I guess I’m about to find out as he steps toward me, taking my face in his hands.
“Jamie, the guys from the pictures, what do you know about them?” I try to pull away at his words, not wanting to look at him and definitely not wanting to talk to him about this. “I know you don’t want to talk about this, but it’s important. Please.”
I wrap my fingers around his wrists while his hands hold my face. “I…I don’t know anything about them other than one was called Noah, and he’s a friend of Jasper’s too. Why is this so important?”
He lets out a dejected sigh and rubs his thumbs over my cheekbones. “The guy, Noah, I saw him at Tempest meeting with Jasper the other week, and Rick and I ran facial recognition on him after you showed Rick the pictures. Jamie, his name is Noah James Huntingdon.”
My eyes flick over to the screen and the name glaring back at me; Noah James Huntingdon and listed as Directo
r of MWB Haulage.
“Oh my god.” I try to pull away again, but Seb holds fast. My chest tightens, and my vision blurs as my eyes become heavy with unshed, and very unwelcome, tears. I yank Seb’s hands from my face, successfully this time, dropping down off the stool. “I’m gonna be sick,” I blurt out as I run for the bathroom.
After emptying my stomach in the toilet, I sit back on my hunches, eyes closed as I try to stop my heart from beating so fast it’s likely to beat right out of my chest. I can just make out Seb talking on his phone, most likely to Rick.
Long minutes pass, and I just sit here contemplating everything that’s happened, and cursing every bad decision I’ve made that’s led me here. Granted some of them aren’t entirely my doing, but if I hadn’t been so stupid and let my past guide my reckless decisions, I might not have shared my body with someone, possibly two or even three people, who are connected with the trafficking and exploitation of young girls.
It makes me sick to think I give my body so freely, with no respect for myself, when countless others don’t have the choice. My admiration and respect for Cam, and what she went through, reaches a whole new level.
It’s been a good half hour since I locked myself away in the bathroom, and Seb has tried several times to get me to open the door, but I just can’t. Not yet. I’m not really trying to hide from my feelings or the reality of the situation, I just need a bit of time, and I’m not good at letting others in. I think Seb understands because I know he could pick the lock or kick the door down in an instant if he wanted to.
“Jamie.” When I don’t answer he continues, “Look, I need to go out for a bit, but I didn’t want to leave you alone, so there’s someone here to see you.”
“Jamie,” Cam says, and the tears I managed to hold back earlier now fall in a flood down my face. I scramble to my feet, swiping at my wet cheeks as I unlock the door.
When I open it, there stands Cam, my best friend, and I launch myself at her. She wraps me in a hug, and I let go of everything I’ve been holding onto. She doesn’t say a word, just holds me until I’m spent.
When I finally release her, she smiles. “Feel better now?” she asks, and I laugh because I do. And I know she gets it.
“Where’s Seb? Has he gone?” I ask quickly, hoping I haven’t missed him.
“I think he’s—” I hear the front door closing, and I race down the stairs, throwing open the door just as Seb is getting in his car.
“Seb,” I shout, and he turns to look back at me. For a second, I just stand there, but then my feet are moving, running towards him. He catches me as I leap at him, smashing my lips on his and pouring everything into it. My words would never be enough to express how much what he just did means to me.
“I’m sorry for shutting you out. Please don’t go.” Oh wow. Who is this woman begging a man not to go? Normally, I can’t get them out the house fast enough.
“Hey,” he says, grasping my chin and pulling my head up to look at him. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll be back in a little while, but there’s something I need to go do.” I give him a nod that I understand. “Did you really think you could get rid of me that easily, Firefly? Not a fucking chance.” He kisses me, slow, tasting me, savouring me. When the kiss ends, he says, “Now go talk to Cam, and I’ll see you soon.”
It’s only as Seb lowers me to the ground that I realise Jay is standing the other side of the car. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin from ear to ear, with a cheeky glint in his eye.
I give him the finger as I walk back up to the house, where Cam is waiting by the door, wearing the same damn grin on her face.
“Don’t say a bloody word, Camryn,” I tell her as I step inside. “Where’s that beautiful baby boy of yours? Please tell me you’ve finally given him a name.” I ask as I begin making tea. Yes, I’m deflecting, but it won’t last because she’ll pry it out of me.
“I left him with Ryder, and yes, we do finally have a name.”
“Well, come on then, don’t keep me waiting any longer.”
“Jamison Kyle Hawkins. Jamison for my father, James, and also this feisty redhead I know, and Kyle for Ryder’s brother.”
I feel tears prick at my eyes, but they are happy ones this time. “Cam, that’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”
“How about saying yes to being Jamison’s godmother,” she says, like she’s commenting on the damn weather and didn’t just ask me to be a massively important person in Jamison’s life, and I almost drop the cups I’m carrying.
Placing the cups down, I turn to Cam. “Are you trying to give me an emotional break down this morning? ‘Cause it’s fucking working.”
Cam just laughs. “Is that a no, then?”
“Fuck no, it’s not a no.” I pull her into a hug and say, “It’s a yes, Cam. I would protect Jamison with my life, godmother or not. Thank you.”
We take our drinks into the lounge, and I fill her in on what’s been going on with my dad and the discovery of his half-brother. I guess now would be a good opportunity to tell Cam it was my dad who sent those articles to her, but I want to speak to him first. Looks like Dad and I need to have a serious fucking conversation and soon because I don’t like keeping things from her, never mind the fact we need answers about what he knows about his brother.
We talk about Alex, and it’s fucking hard talking about him and how his parents reacted to me. I don’t know when his funeral will be, and I really hope his parents let me go because I need to say goodbye to my friend. I need to thank him for saving my life.
“So, Seb told me a little bit about Jasper, Noah and Tempest.”
I’m surprised because I know they aren’t meant to share details of their jobs, and Cam knows that only too well.
“Yeah, it’s fucked up that’s for sure. But I’m okay, honestly.” She looks at me as if she’s waiting for my nose to start fucking growing. “Okay, fine. I wasn’t but I am now.”
“And is that because of me or Seb,” she asks with a twinkle in her eye.
“Both, I guess. He confuses the fuck out of me, and he’s nothing like I thought he was. And yes, bad me for judging him the way I did, but you can’t blame a girl when it’s obvious what he wants people to think of him.”
“We all have a mask we wear when we need to protect ourselves or even those we love, Jamie.” I pull a face when she says love. “Okay, what the hell was that?”
“I don’t—”
“Don’t give me that. You pulled a face like someone wafted dog shit under your nose when I mentioned love.”
“Ugggh! I might have accidentally told Seb that I love him a little bit last night. But in my defence, it was after some hot sex.”
Cam puts hers fingers in her ears. “Blah, blah, blah. Enough, I do not need details.” We both burst into laughter. And when the laughter dies, I tell Cam that I feigned sleep after I said it for fear he would freak out or perhaps I would if I had to repeat it to his face.
“Well, from the looks of what I saw earlier, I’d say the feeling is mutual.” I nod my agreement, but even I know it’s half-hearted. “What’s wrong?”
I take a deep breath and tell her, “I’m so fucking scared, Cam. What if—”
“No. Don’t do that, Jamie. Seb is not Josh, and I’m certainly not that bitch Amber.” She sighs, then takes my hand. “When I first met Ryder, he scared me but not in the way you’d think. I was never afraid he’d hurt me physically. I knew from the start that’s not who he was. What does your heart tell you about Seb?”
I think about what she’s told me, and a part of me knows, although I don’t know how, that Seb would never hurt me that way, but it’s really fucking hard to trust your own judgement again.
“My heart thinks I’d be a fool to waste this chance, and I agree, but that doesn’t stop my brain from screaming what a terrible idea this is.”
“Then listen to your heart because you know better than I do that sometimes our brains are our own worst enemies.”
And she�
�s right, I do know that. I know how much of a role our brains play in protecting us when we experience something bad. Building a wall around the bad memory and blocking it completely or replaying it over and over again and manifesting as PTSD, but that wasn’t the case for me. Instead, I built a wall around my heart, and the memory my brain chose to remember, kept me from ever allowing someone in again.
Until now.
Thirty-Two
Seb
Jamie shocked the shit out of me just now. She has no idea I know how hard it must be for her to open herself up to me like that. I know she thinks I’m a player, a man-whore, but she doesn’t know I watched my mother suffer for years because of my father’s lying and cheating. That it fucking destroyed her until she couldn’t take it anymore and took her own life. My whole reason for never having a long-term relationship is because I always believed that I was my father’s son. That I’d never be able to love a woman wholeheartedly and completely, that I’d be just like him and cheat and lie and fucking destroy the woman who fell in love with me.
I never wanted to be that man.
After my mother died, I made a vow to never fall in love and never allow anyone to love me. If that meant I had to keep women at arm’s length, only ever sleep with them, use them and never let them close, even if it hurt them a little, I was okay with that. Surely, it’s better than giving them everything with one breath and ripping it away from them with the next.
Now, I realise I was never like my father. Could never be like him because I could never do to Jamie what my father did to my mother. And that’s because I’m so fucking in love with her and will destroy anyone that lays one fucking finger on her.
“Hey, man, you okay?” Jay asks beside me, and when I turn to look at him, his eyes are focused on my hands. My knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel so tight.
Easing my grip. “Yeah, I’m good,” I reply as I take the next left.
When we pull up to the address Rick and I pulled from the facial recognition, I’m surprised. It’s a reasonable looking detached house, but it looks tired and worn, not the house you would imagine the director of a haulage company to live in. But really, I’m not surprised because I don’t think for one second Noah is the true director of the company.
