Inescapable Fate: Hanleigh's London (The Fate Series Book 1)

by Hanleigh Bradley

  Inescapable Fate

  Author Friends With Benefits

  www.authorfriendswithbenefits.com

  Copyright © 2018 by Hanleigh Bradley

  www.hanleighbradley.com

  hanleigh@hanleighbradley.co.uk

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  This book is licensed for your personal use only.

  Please respect the authors work and refrain from sharing it with others. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

  The characters, organisations and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Dear Reader,

  Do you believe in fate?

  Do you believe that one action leads to another?

  Whether you believe in fate or you believe in the power of your own choices, it’s a nice idea to think you’re fated for someone.

  I hope you all find your fated someone.

  Hanleigh

  My Little Lioness was not easy to tame.

  ~ Walker Trent ~

  Chapter One – Georgia

  Worst bloody Christmas of my life!

  I had never thought I’d be so grateful to get back to work on the 27th of December. We’d been sat there at the dinner table, enjoying what should have been a fantastic dinner with the people we love and he had to go and ruin it all.

  His mum had asked a simple question, one my mother was itching to ask too. A question I had hoped they’d leave off for at least another six months but when I heard it, I thought we’d behave like grown-ups and answer it reasonably.

  What I didn’t expect was for him to have said what he did.

  I was just as shocked as everyone else at the table, at a complete loss for how to respond.

  “So, when will you be getting married then?” his mum had asked in a teasing tone as she elbowed him gently.

  I’d laughed slightly and gone to answer the question myself. We’ve not thought about it, was on the top of my tongue, it was the truth after all.

  Even if we’d been together since high school, we’d never once considered getting married. We had been friends before we started dating. We’d been dating for five years; ever since our last year at secondary school and before that, we’d been friends for over ten years.

  There were so many things to discuss before we could agree to spending the rest of our lives together, like if we wanted kids and how many.

  We’d never once discussed the future, and part of me believed it was because we both knew that we were just passing time until something or someone better came along.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t love him, I did.

  I loved him more than almost anyone else, but it wasn’t the way I imagined being in love. Something was missing and over the years, I’d convinced myself that that was okay, that eventually, we might find that missing component.

  Darren had apparently disagreed though because this Christmas he dumped me.

  “We won’t be getting married,” Darren told me and our families in tandem. His eyes were glued to the table in front of him as he continued, “actually I’ve decided we need to break up.”

  I wasn’t upset at the prospect of breaking up, not really.

  It had felt inevitable.

  I was downright pissed that he’d taken it upon himself to make the decision, not including me at all. What was worse was that he’d decided to tell our parents without my consent and on fucking Christmas Day of all days.

  “What do you mean?

  My father had jumped to his feet, prepared perhaps to defend his little girl.

  “We’ve grown apart and there’s no point in continuing this farce.”

  His tone was cold and unfeeling. It had left my heart like ice, stuck in shock, unable to speak. He’d never spoken to me like that before, with such disregard for my feelings.

  It simply didn’t compute with everything that I knew about him. The person I loved, my best friend, would never do this.

  He could have at least shown me some kindness, the kindness you’d show a friend.

  “Why are you doing this now?”

  My father was furious and I couldn’t really blame him. I wasn’t exactly happy myself.

  In a much quieter voice than my father’s, I asked, “why didn’t you discuss this with me before bringing it to our families?”

  Or the first time since his mother brought up marriage, he looked at me.

  “I didn’t think you’d let me go.”

  “Let you go? I’m not holding you hostage,” the pitch of my voice increasing as I spoke.

  “I… I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Then what did you mean?” I asked sharply.

  My mother dropped her hand to my shoulder and suggested everyone leave us to discuss the situation but just as everyone got up from the table and began to make their way through to the living room, Darren abruptly told them it wasn’t necessary and that he was leaving.

  “It’s not as simple as that,” I told him as he gathered his things together. “What about the flat?”

  “You can keep it. I don’t want it.”

  “What?” I was astounded by his complete lack of feeling. “Where will you stay?”

  “I’ll find somewhere.”

  “What about your belongings?”

  “I’ll ask mum and dad to collect them in the New Year.”

  “Why didn’t you talk to me about this?”

  I tried to touch his arm, but he flinched away from me as if burnt.

  “There was never a right time.”

  “There’s no such thing as the right time… As a friend, as your best friend, as someone you’ve known almost your whole life, I deserved to be told properly.”

  “I can’t give you what you want.”

  “I don’t know what you think I want.”

  “Forever.”

  “I never asked for that.”

  “You didn’t need to, Georgia.”

  With those words, he was out the door and I was left to deal with the aftermath. I had to apologise to our families for destroying Christmas, listen to his parents’ apologies, bear through all the absolute crap excuses that our siblings tried to make for him, and attempt to pacify my father’s anger.

  Worst Christmas of my life and it was all thanks to Darren Jacks. Thank fuck for being back at work is all I can say!

  I’m now standing inside the Detective Chief Inspector’s office with the other Detective Sergeants and Inspectors. Not really sure why we’re waiting here, I twiddle my thumbs, while the boys gossip about their holidays.

  Whoever told you guys don’t gossip was lying.

  The only difference between men and women is that women gossip about other people while men gossip about themselves.

  I’m the youngest Detective Sergeant here and the only girl, but the boys always make me feel welcome. They get a tad overprotective occasionally while other times they seem to completely forget that I’m a girl altogether.

  “What about you, Kentley?” John, the oldest of the Detective Inspectors, asks me.

  He’s a balding man in his forties, a little tubby round the middle and without a doubt the father of our little family.

  “Not much. Just spent it with the family,” I reply with as much indifference as
I can possibly muster.

  “Didn’t get a ring then?” Alvin, a hotter than hell, yet unfortunately gay DS asks.

  “Not unless your offering.”

  I wink at the six-foot-two black man.

  “Sorry lovely,” he smirks, “you’re just not my type.”

  We all laugh good-humouredly.

  “Any idea why we’re here?” I ask after a moment.

  “Impatient as ever, DS Kentley,” a sarcastic voice from the door answers.

  “You know me well, Sir.”

  I grin as my eyes meet the eyes of my father, Detective Chief Superintendent Kentley.

  I know what you’re thinking.

  You’re wondering if the reason I’ve already made DS at the ripe old age of twenty-three is that my dad just so happens to be the DCS and I honestly don’t know the answer. I know that when I joined the force, I begged my dad not to use his influence when it came to my career and I’ve always given him the benefit of the doubt. If he’s betrayed that promise, well then, I don’t think he’s the dad I think he is.

  He’s always treated me just like the rest of the boys.

  When I first started out as a Police Constable, I never saw him and when I did, he acted as if he didn’t know me at all. It was just how I wanted it to be.

  The rest of the force hadn’t known he was my father – at that time the only people who knew were the girls in HR.

  That had changed the night I got stabbed on the job. I’d been held hostage and that was the first time my dad had failed to do his job.

  He’d had to ask his deputy to step in for him. He knew right there and then that his fatherly instinct to protect me would put the rest of the mission in jeopardy and worse could risk other people’s lives.

  After that, he tried to swap me with paperwork to keep me out of the field and it wasn’t until John, the father of the precinct spoke to him that he finally relented.

  Good old John.

  It had always amazed me that even his superiors showed him so much deference.

  “I’ve got something to share with you all,” he continues as he makes his way into the room.

  My eyes aren’t on him though. They are on the man following after him. He has a dark stubbly beard that just begs to be touched. His eyes are a coppery hazel and his hair is pretty short, but not so short you’d think he was a thug.

  He’s wearing a suite, but his jacket is currently in his hand, allowing me to see the muscles that he’s hiding underneath his shirt.

  He’s built.

  Just one look and my mind clouds over with lust.

  “DCI Collins has been transferred to Surrey Police. He wants to be closer to his family.”

  That’s not exactly news. His wife just had a baby in September and all he has been able to talk about for months is baby Jessica’s feeds, nappies, cries… apparently he can differentiate between her cries. As I’m not a parent, I can’t tell if he’s being an idiot or if it’s a real thing, but I have had to bite my tongue more times than I can count to stop myself from telling him to ‘get a grip’.

  The boys all just nod their heads, they’re not surprised either, and I notice the little grins that tell me that they are just as relieved as I am.

  “His replacement starts this morning. Let me introduce you to Detective Chief Inspector Trent.”

  Everyone quickly mumbles a “good day, sir,” by way of greeting.

  DCI Trent looks to be in his mid-twenties. He can’t be that much older than me. It’s hard not to be impressed. He must have worked damn hard to become DCI already.

  “Hello everyone,” he says in a commanding voice; quiet and controlled. “I’m looking forward to working with you all.”

  He looks at us all briefly before returning his attention to my dad.

  Dad grins and smacks him on the back.

  “I know you’ll do great, Trent,” and with that, he leaves the room.

  John cuts the silence that’s left. “Good to have back, Sir.”

  “It feels strange having you call me sir, John.”

  His smirk is contagious.

  “Aye, it’s been a while since you were chasing me around,” John replies. “I remember when you were just a PC. Best recommendation for Detective Sergeant I ever made…”

  He then glances my way and gives me a wink.

  “Well, joint best.”

  “Join?” DCI looks surprised. “Don’t tell me my brilliance has been surpassed.”

  “Not surpassed,” John chuckles, “but definitely matched.”

  Trent’s eyes follow John’s until they land on me.

  “Detective Sergeant…?”

  “Kentley, Sir.” I nod my head.

  He doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns back to John.

  “She doesn’t look that impressive,” he says in a hushed tone, causing everyone to huff with hidden laughter. I begin to blush in that way that only girls seem to do.

  “Impressive?” John tuts. “It’s not about how she looks; it’s about how she thinks.”

  I bow my head at his acknowledgment, quietly touched.

  Trent doesn’t react.

  “Very well. Enough time wasted. We should do some work. I’ve got some catching up to do. I’ve looked over all our cases but what I really need to do is get to know you all. I’ll be spending the next few weeks working closely with all of you. Let’s get at it.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The boys nod their heads affably.

  I can almost hear their thoughts that Trent is definitely an improvement on Collins, but anything would be an improvement on Collins.

  “Right, someone go get some coffees and let’s meet next door in ten minutes for the briefing,” Trent says as we begin to amble out of his office.

  DI Jackson is the first to comment when we get to our cubicles. “DCI seems alright.”

  “He’s fit as, too.” Alvin chuckles.

  “Definitely better than Collins,” DS Milton says, completely ignoring Alvin.

  “That doesn’t say much, Milton. A monkey would be better than Collins,” I butt in.

  The guys all laugh in response.

  “It’s a crazy day when the woman of the group has a problem with a dad that cares about his kid” Milton laughs.

  “Cares? It was alright for you lot. I got all the details. He presumed that because I’m a girl, I’d give a shit that his baby waved at him or had a nappy rash.”

  “You never know, kid, you might end up just like that when you and Darren have your own wee, little monster.” John smiles kindly at me.

  “Eh…” With those words, my happiness at escaping the Christmas From Hell is all gone. “We broke up.”

  “You broke up?”

  The boys are now all staring at me like I’ve grown a new head.

  “Yeah.”

  “Over Christmas?”

  “Who breaks up at Christmas?”

  “I thought you two would get married, have kids all that shit.”

  Their voices are all a jumbled mess in the air in front of me.

  “It’s no big deal. I’m good.”

  “You’re good?”

  “Are you insane?”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  Again, with the bombardment of questions.

  “We broke up. That’s it. It’s over. Nothing else to say.”

  They all go to speak again but John quiets them all down with a single look.

  “What did your Pa say?”

  “What do you think he said? He threatened to get the firearm squad on him.”

  That got the boys laughing but it left me feeling a little hollow. I’d never thought my dad would have reason to get that angry with Darren. Break up or not, I hadn’t seen it happening the way it did.

  “Well, best thing you can do is put your effort into your work,” John says, “and if your dad needs back up, I’m here.”

  “I’m pretty sure my dad could take him,” I wink at him, “but I’m hoping we can all just put t behind us
.”

  It’s then that I notice that Trent has joined us, although I’m not sure when and so there is a good chance he has probably heard all about my breakup. Fuck.

  “Where’s the coffee?” Trent asks gruffly.

  His eyes on me, I can’t help but wonder if he’s asking me about the coffee because I’m a girl or if he’s watching me because he heard our conversation.

  Either way, I’m not happy about it.

  Chapter Two – Walker

  First day on the job and I’ve already found a reason to dislike it. DS Kentley. She’s going to be a thorn in my side, I can already tell.

  If there is one thing I hate it’s nepotism.

  I’d never pictured DCI Kentley to be the sort to give his daughter a leg up though. He’d always been hard as nails when I was training. I’d worked hard and proven myself the way I was supposed to, the way he expected me to, but his little princess of a daughter…

  How much help had he given her?

  She doesn’t look particularly driven. I just can’t imagine she got to where she is completely on merit alone. Besides, even if she did, what happens when I chide her or rebuke her? Is she going to run off to daddy and complain about me?

  She looks like that sort.

  What had she said? I’m pretty sure my dad could take him… Who had she been talking about? Nepotism doesn’t belong in the police… and more importantly, I’m going to make her realise neither does she.

  “Where’s the coffee?” I ask, directing my question at her intentionally.

  She doesn’t react.

  One of the other Detective Sergeants laughs merrily.

  “You don’t want her making your coffee.”

  The room at large all chuckle and nod their heads in agreement.

  “She’ll burn the crap out of it,” anther tells me.

  “I don’t care who makes the coffee,” I tell them, my temper beginning to rise. “Just somebody get some blasted coffee.”

  Alvin jumps to attention.

  “Yes, Sir, DCI, Sir.”

  Then he darts out of the room.

  “Right, let’s get started,” I tell them without looking at anyone in particular, and definitely not at Kentley. I go to open my mouth but am stopped when the desk girl from downstairs pops her head around the door.