by Imogen Wells
“I had an accident, and my car is at the garage. No big deal. I think that covers your ‘not really your business’ questions,” I state dryly. “Do you mind?” I ask, looking at his hand wrapped round my arm where his thumb has unconsciously been caressing the crook of my elbow. I try not to think of the tingle running the length of my arm from his touch despite the fact I’m in pain and pissed at him and his shitty Spanish inquisition. It’s at this point, I get a better look at myself. I’m covered in mud, and my once white pumps are wet and a dirty brown colour. I can’t see my face, but I can feel the dried mud streaks smattered over it.
Instead of releasing me, he draws me closer. “What do you mean you had an accident?” he forces out between gritted teeth, and I can feel the restraint in his words.
“Look, I don’t know what the fuck it has to do with you, but I swerved to miss a deer and ended up in a ditch. Happy now? Can I go have a damn shower and get this filth off me?” He continues to hold me, and I’m slowly losing the battle to hold my temper. Because this man is giving me whiplash more severe than any car crash ever could.
He finally releases me. “Next time, hit the damn thing,” he states blankly before turning on his heels.
“Are you serious? I’m just supposed to run it down?”
“Better it dead than you,” he calls behind him, disappearing into the trees.
“Top tip, arsehole!” I call out as I turn toward my cabin. I swear I hear a faint laugh echo back through the trees.
I storm into the cabin, grinding to a halt as my mind catches up with my eyes. Backtracking out the front door, I see the red roses I received and had dumped on the porch, now sitting on the small table in a vase. A smile parts my lips, and I shake my head thinking of how much Eleanor would have hated seeing them tossed aside.
Back inside, I jump in the shower, quickly washing off the stench of ditch and thinking about why my brakes didn’t work. I had my car serviced before driving up here, so it makes no sense why my brakes failed. Confident the garage will let me know what happened, I grab my laptop and the file on my brother I’ve compiled over the last five years.
I flick through the pages until the same picture that was left on my car is staring back at me. It might not be a thick file, but it is thorough, although there really isn’t anything significant.
I’ve used every resource available to me, especially when I was on the force, to try and find out what happened to him, but his last mission doesn’t even exist.
I’ve spent endless hours trawling through classified documents that could get me thrown in a cell alongside criminals I’ve put there, but other than half a dozen articles on gun running operations between Mexico and Afghanistan, there’s nothing. All I have are memories of conversations with my brother and the mention of one name in particular.
Sully.
Fifteen
Rick
I march back across the site to the house where I find Eleanor scanning the area looking a little confused. I can’t blame her having disappeared on her while she went to collect my order.
“Ah, there you.” She looks me over, noting my rigid stride as I approach. “Everything okay? I thought I heard Jess out here.”
I consider telling her that Jess had an accident but decide against it because I don’t want to worry her unnecessarily considering Jessica seems okay if her attitude is anything to go by.
“Everything is fine. Sorry about that, but I just needed to have a word with Jess.” Just then the door behind Eleanor opens, and a man, whom I assume is Eleanor’s husband, steps out.
“Afternoon,” he greets. Sticking his hand out, he introduces himself as Harry.
“Rick. It’s good to meet you.” I turn back to Eleanor and ignore the intense scrutiny directed at me from Harry. “I really appreciate this, thank you,” I say as Eleanor hands over the cake box.
“It’s no trouble at all. Are you celebrating anything special?” Eleanor asks.
“You don’t need a special occasion to have cake, surely,” I reply with a wink and letting some of the irritation at seeing Jessica talking with that guy bleed away.
“You staying over at the Taylor’s, Rick?” Harry questions and not doing a very good job of hiding his hostility towards me. I admire his fatherly protection, even though I know he’s not her father.
“Yes. My family and I have been coming here for many years, but it’s been a while since we were last here. You have a great place here. Perhaps next time we’ll book a cabin.”
“Is that so,” Harry says, folding his arms across his chest. “Well, we book up fast, so don’t go getting your hopes up on that.” I catch Eleanor’s small elbow to Harry’s ribs and the look he throws her way.
“Don’t listen to him, Rick. I’m sure we can accommodate you and your family.”
“That’s very kind of you. I need to get back, so thanks again for the cake. Good meeting you both.”
As I turn and walk away, I can hear Eleanor scolding Harry, and I chuckle quietly.
My smile soon slips as I picture Jessica laughing with that jerk she rolled in here with, and the bolt of concern that shot through me when I saw the state of her.
Who the fuck swerves for a damn deer? Stupid bloody women and their concern for wildlife over their own lives. Don’t get me wrong, I love animals and would never knowingly injure an animal but come on. If it was me or the animal, I know which one I’d choose.
Back at the caravan, my mum has Jamison snuggled up in her arms, rocking him, with a beaming smile on her face while chatting to Cam and Jamie. She didn’t get much time to cuddle him as we left for the fair soon after Ryder and Cam arrived this morning.
Watching my mum with Jamison is bittersweet for me. I remember how happy she was when Sam and I told them we were having a baby, but Max’s birth brings a plethora of contradicting feelings for all of us.
I think my mum suffered the most at the time. Yeah, I lost my wife, but she basically lost a daughter and had no idea if I was alive or not at that point. To be honest, I don’t think I was sure I was alive myself. I can’t imagine how it must have felt for her to be left holding a baby who had lost its mum and not knowing if she’d lost a son too.
“Hey, man, you okay?” Ryder asks, nudging my shoulder and holding out a beer for me. I know he’s seen where my focus is, but he doesn’t call me out on it.
“Yeah, I’m good, but we need to talk.” I catch Seb’s eye, and he comes to join us. I give my dad a chin lift as we move toward the caravan.
I’m not happy with having to ruin what has, mostly, been a good day, but I’ve sat on this too long all ready.
Ryder’s reaction to the video is exactly what I expected.
“What the fucking hell is this shit? Where did it come from?” he whisper-yells, and I would laugh if the situation wasn’t so serious.
With the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and groans of pain echoing from the phone, I’m almost transported back there, but I focus on Ryder to help expel the images from my mind.
“It was sent to me via email. Nothing else, just the link, and no way to trace the email without a little help from our resident hackers Jay and Dean. That’s what I’m hoping anyway.”
“Rick,” Ryder’s serious tone has me shaking my head.
“I know.” Seb has been quiet, but I can see he has questions. Both he and Ryder were on leave when me and Kuffs were captured during a special ops recon mission. Seb returned to London, but Ryder, although on leave, remained in Afghanistan and managed to get clearance to visit me in hospital. At this point, I was unconscious and had no idea I had a son or that my wife had died.
I’ve never seen a man look so heartbroken as he was the day he broke the news to me. I didn’t stay conscious for long as my grief blinded me to everything else, and Ryder had no option but to hold me down while the nurses sedated me.
What’s most concerning is there are only a small, very select number of people that even know about that mission, so whoever sent th
is video must have known about the mission or were involved in our capture, and that is what has Ryder so concerned.
“Look, I understand your concern, but until we have more information, we just have to continue the way we are. I don’t want to make any calls unless I absolutely have to. This is a time in my life I’m not in any hurry to relive. Having said that, it seems as though someone else has other ideas about that. What the purpose of it is, is yet to be seen.” I grip my chin, rubbing at it furiously with my thumb and fingers. “Is Dean on a job?” I ask Ryder.
“No, he’s got some free time. No doubt he’s pulling his hair out with nothing to do, so he’ll be glad of the work.”
“Okay, good. I’ll bring him in on it. We keep this between us for now,” I tell them with a pointed look to ensure they understand I don’t want Cam and Jamie knowing about this. They both give me a nod of agreement. “Right, I need another drink, so let’s go and enjoy the evening.”
“Is this Dutch courage for another midnight stroll to the cabins?” Seb states casually as he gets to his feet. Ryder’s eyes dart between the two of us.
“What’s this?” Ryder asks at the same time I tell Seb to fuck off.
Thankfully, Seb doesn’t say anymore, but I hear him and Ryder whispering like a couple of fucking girls behind me as I step outside.
I grab another bottle from the cool box and join everyone under the awning.
A little while later as I head to the loo, I send the email and link to Dean asking him to work his magic.
After taking a piss, I stand on the top step from the caravan and look out over the reserve. I can just make out the tops of a few of the cabins the other side.
An image of Jessica swims through my mind, but I force it away. Even if I wanted to, there’s no way I could have her in my life, especially with a possible threat against me.
However, the alcohol has skewed my brain function, causing me to make stupid decisions. It’s why I now find myself sneaking round the back of the caravan and heading for Jessica’s cabin.
“Sneaking off somewhere?” comes Ryder’s voice behind me.
Stopping, I turn to face him as reaches me. “No, just stretching my legs, that’s all.”
“Sure, man.” I begin walking again, away from my original direction, and Ryder drops into step beside me. “You want to talk about it?”
I don’t but I know he won’t let it drop until I do. “There’s really nothing to talk about. I met a woman and we had sex, end of story.” I don’t say out loud that there’s something different about her because that would mean admitting that I like her, that I want to see her again, that I want to feel her lips wrapped round my cock—fuck! I close my eyes to rid the image from my mind, but if anything, it just opens the door to more.
“Come on, man, I know you. And I say this with respect, but hit it and quit it has been your MO since Sam. And there’s nothing wrong with that, hell, all three of us have been there at some point, but—”
“I kissed her,” I blurt out, and at this point, I’m not sure if it was to shut him up or because I needed to unload.
He stops walking. “Okay, and why is that—oh shit. Are you telling me you’ve not kissed another woman since Sam?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Look, I get that it’s stupid, but—”
“It’s personal and intimate. I get it, Rick, I really do. If you’d have told me a year ago, I wouldn’t have understood, but now I do.”
We begin walking again, heading back towards the caravans, and I can hear laughter coming from Jamie.
“Are you going to see her again?” When I don’t reply straight away, Ryder says, “You already have, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but I’m not going to see her again. I don’t have room for a relationship even if I wanted one, which I don’t.”
“I call bullshit on that.” He pauses for a second. “That’s where you were going isn’t it? She’s here and you were—hold on, Seb mentioned that Jessica Fisher is here, and that’s why he said it. Because it’s her.”
I sigh, and it’s all the conformation Ryder needs.
“Then go. What are you waiting for?”
“No, Ryder. It’s wrong.”
“The fuck it is. What the fuck does that even mean?” he says, halting me with the back of his hand on my chest.
“It means, I can’t because I’m married. It’s cheating, that’s what it is. She thought I was a cheat, and she’s right.” I know how stupid that sounds, even in my own head, but this feels different. Kissing Jess has made this something more.
“No, man. You’re so far outside the park on that one.” I can feel anger rising in my gut at Ryder’s words, and it mixes with the want to see her again, want to kiss her again. Ryder’s next words are enough to burst the banks on the swollen river of anger, guilt and regret. “Sam’s gone, Rick. You can’t cheat on someone who’s dead, and—”
Before I realise what’s happening, I’m swinging my fist at Ryder’s face and landing a clean shot on his left jaw. Then it’s open season as we begin to brawl on the damp lawn, rolling and landing punch after punch.
He lands a solid hit to my right eye, which is going to look fucking awesome tomorrow, before someone is pulling me off him.
“Whoa, whoa, what the fuck are you two doing?” Seb demands, holding me with my arms behind my back as Cam and my dad help Ryder to his feet. Several lights go on around us, and some guests even poke their heads out of their doors.
I yank my arms away from Seb, and Ryder and I eye each other, breaths heaving as my dad demands to know what is going on. Breaking his stare, I look around the circle now gathered round us, and every eye is on me. I feel the weight of it like a stone boulder rolled right over me.
My dad, having still got no answers, herds us back towards the caravans like a group of unruly teenagers, adding another layer of guilt to my load.
As I turn to follow, Jessica is standing there beside my mum and son. I feel a trickle of blood run down the side of my face as we stand there looking at each other.
“Grandma, is Dad okay?” Max asks, pointing at me and looking up at my mum.
I take a couple of steps forward, stopping and crouching in front of Max. “I’m good, bud. Go with Grandma, while I go and get cleaned up,” I tell him, ruffling his hair before stepping passed the three of them and heading straight for the caravan.
Sixteen
Rick
I hold back from slamming the door shut. It’s the least I can do considering my son just saw me fighting my best friend; a fight my dad had to break up.
I don’t do so well with the cupboard and nearly pull it off its hinges as I fling it open looking for the first aid kit.
Slamming it down on the top, I struggle to get the stupid little fucking catches open, when a tanned hand covers mine.
“Let me,” she whispers, taking the box as I slip my hand free from her touch.
Dropping down in a seat beside the table, my head hanging down, she opens the kit and carries it over, resting it on the table. I watch from the corner of my eye as her long, lithe fingers pick out alcohol wipes, steri strips and a small gauze dressing, placing them beside the kit before tearing open the wipe.
A finger beneath my chin, lifts my head until I’m looking right at her, and my nostrils flare as residual anger courses through me. Combined with her close proximity, her alluring scent and beguiling eyes, I feel like I’m about to explode.
“Go ahead and ask your question, Rick,” she says as she swipes the wipe along the ridge of my eyebrow where Ryder’s hit landed and split the skin.
“Fine. What the fuck are you doing, Jessica?” I don’t hold back on the venom in my voice. Why the hell should I? She wanted it, so there it is.
“Wow. Don’t hold back on my account.” I wince as she continues to clean the cut, wiping a little harder this time, which I’m sure was intentional. “Right now, I’m cleaning up a guy who just got into it with his friend and was behaving lik
e a fucking delinquent, but that’s not what you meant is it?”
It’s rhetorical, so I don’t bother answering her. Throwing the bloodied wipe down, she picks up the pack of steri strips. Opening it, she peels one off, holding it on the tip of her forefinger while she aligns the split skin before placing it down and pulling it across tightly.
“You want to tell me what that was about?” she asks, a crease forming in her brow as she places a second steri strip. I grunt in response, and she chuckles.
“No, I don’t. What I want is for you to explain what you were doing here with my family.” I ask, forcing the words between gritted teeth. I can’t say I’m enjoying where this conversation is going. And I’m fully aware that this is not like with Ryder. I can’t just lay one on her if I don’t like her answers. Drawing a deep breath, I wait for her to answer me.
Placing another steri strip, her eyes drop to mine. “All done,” she says, before looking away and collecting up the rubbish. “To answer your blunt arse, and frankly rude, question, I was making a delivery to the Taylor’s. I don’t appreciate the insinuation that I was here with your family.” It’s only now that I realise there’s a box on the counter. In my rage, I obviously missed it. Before I can say anything in reply, she continues. “You want to fuck, I can get on board with that. I mean a girl has needs too, but don’t try to make out this is anything more than just two adults getting their kicks.” She steps away, turning to collect up the box, and my eyes drop to her arse in the black skinny jeans she’s wearing. Adrenaline is still coursing through me from my fight with Ryder, and her mention of fucking has my dick rising to the visual.
Surging to my feet, I step up behind her, brushing the back of her body with the front of mine, and I know she can feel how turned on I am from the little gasp that’s expelled from her lips. My dick throbs at the sound, practically begging to be let out so I can hear more of those sweet noises as I drive my cock into—my thoughts are cut off as the door opens, and Ryder steps in. I jump back from Jessica but not quick enough given the smirk and raised brow from Ryder.
