White Knight

by Annie Dyer

  “I’m going to go to the office first thing, maybe leave early. Can you let me know when you set off? I’ll check your apartment and I’m going to add some extra security to the Callaghan Green offices too. There will be someone based there to keep an eye out.”

  “Are they going to be using my spare room?” I said, dreading the answer.

  “No. Your apartment should be secure enough and you’ll have a panic alarm fitted and we’ll monitor it for any attempted break ins. If we think there’s a chance you’ll be targeted then someone will stay. Maybe me,” he said, his words measured and calm.

  “I didn’t think you’d let anyone else,” I said with a smile.

  “I would,” he said seriously. “I have employees I trust and if I can’t look after you then I’ll have one of them. I don’t trust Dean Lacey, Claire. He worries me and I’d rather you didn’t continue with Katie’s case.”

  “I know. But you know that’s not going to happen. She deserves to have someone decent in her corner, K. I need to get her out of this mess financially and mentally healthy,” I said.

  “And alive,” he said, stopping near the front door and turning towards me. “Both of you. Nick’s been researching him and he’s got connections who aren’t exactly friendly.”

  My hands shifted onto his biceps and up to his shoulders, feeling the wall of solid muscle. “You’re bigger than you used to be.”

  His lips curved into a smile, his huge hands now holding my hips, fingers curving onto my ass and I felt heat between my legs bloom already. “Age. And I learned how to work out properly.”

  “I like it,” I said quietly. “I liked how you felt before too, but even more now.”

  His eyes held mine. “I won’t see you in the morning because I’m going to leave before rush hour, but can I take you out to dinner tomorrow? On a date? I never got to take you out properly before.”

  Tears formed in my eyes and I felt my heart attempt to burst into song. “Yes,” I said. “Does that mean you’re going to turn up at mine with flowers and chocolates?”

  He kissed the top of my head tenderly. “I’ll bring you anything you want.”

  The tears escaped. I looked up at him and he brought his mouth to mine. It was almost chaste, no tongue just promises and then he led me inside the house, giving me one last silent kiss before he made his way to his room, leaving me wanting, needing. No different to how I had been for the last thirteen years.

  Chapter Eleven

  Claire

  I struggled to sleep until the early hours of the morning, my body making me pay for having drank too much alcohol and I resolved yet again to moderate the number of drinks I had in one go. My sleep was sullied with scenes involving Killian: strange montages of him being present and then having gone away, telling everybody but me; another where he was married to a girl from my law degree course, everybody around me overjoyed for them and I was having to pretend I was happy for them while trying to suppress my heartbreak. It didn’t take a genius to analyse them and by three am I felt anxious and worried but determined that this time Killian and I had to give ourselves a fair chance, and to do that I had to tell him what happened that summer.

  I woke feeling better close to nine, thankful that I didn’t have to battle the other London commuters to get to work on what looked like it would be the hottest day of the year so far. Instead I took a leisurely shower and finished the pot of coffee Marie had made before they had left, making myself eat some yoghurt and granola even though I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t the best at taking care of myself, especially when I was preoccupied.

  Katie was sat outside the cottage when I got there, a pot of coffee on the table next to her and her iPad in hand.

  “Anything interesting?” I said, taking a seat opposite her and putting my satchel down.

  “Dean was at the opening of a new restaurant last night, one he’s invested in,” she said. “Unfortunately, he didn’t have a date, not that he would be so stupid.”

  “Is there any speculation where you were?” I asked. The media could be both a help and hindrance. Both Dean and Katie had the ability to manipulate what would be put in the press and any comments made could be used to help predict what Dean might throw at us.

  “Of course. ‘Dean Lacey’s wife, the model and spokesperson, Katie Worthington, was conspicuously absent from the opening. This is the third time this month she has failed to accompany her husband to prestigious events prompting speculation that the couple’s marriage is at breaking point.’” She put the iPad down and looked cross. “Either they’ve got insider info or they’re accurately predicting events. Fuckers.”

  “Any photos of Dean?” I said, reserving any comments.

  “Two. He looks like normal. New suits, I think. They’re not ones I found for him. That was part of my role, you know, to ensure he looked presentable every day. And give him a blow job while I did his trousers up.” She looked as if she was going to vomit.

  “It’s over now. You’re never going to have to be on your own with him again. Where’s Nick?”

  “He’s taken the twins to a nursery in the village. A couple of spaces have come available so he can get them there for a couple of days each week. It’ll be good for them,” she said. “Although it’s strange them not being around this morning. They’re absolutely gorgeous and so bright.” She looked a little wistful.

  “What time’s your appointment?”

  “Quarter past two. It’s a blessing. I don’t know what would’ve happened when Dean found out,” she said. “As soon as this is over I need to date again and meet some decent men.”

  I laughed. “You do and you will. Let’s have a look through these documents I’ve received from Dean’s lawyers yesterday.” He was going to contest the divorce. That was what his lawyers had said, hence the mediation tomorrow although that had already been arranged when it seemed the fight was just going to be about finances and property.

  Katie paled. “He’s not going to want to let me go.”

  I shook my head. “You may have to use some of the evidence you have against him when it goes to court. I suspect he’s going to take the part of the wronged party.”

  We started to talk about strategies and ideas, what she was prepared to negotiate with and go through. Lacey’s lawyers had suggested marriage guidance, something Katie was opposed to, not wanting to sit in the same room as him, or chance being on their own together. His lawyers had also insinuated that she was suffering from depression, and although I didn’t think she was mentally completely healthy, that was more to do with stress and anxiety. She needed a doctor’s opinion, which she could get today.

  I heard a crash from inside and Denico’s voice calling our names. His tone was urgent and we both stood, me grabbing the files.

  “Get the fuck inside now!” he shouted, holding the door wide open.

  My feet were leaden and lifting them to move seemed like an impossibility. I grabbed Katie’s arm and dragged her inside, grabbing my satchel and papers at the same time.

  “Both of you into the utility room. Close the door behind you,” Denico said, his voice calmer, quieter and I noticed he held a gun.

  “What’s happened?” I said, surprised at how level I sounded.

  “Cameras have picked up a motorbike heading this way. It could be nothing. It could be something. You’ve about thirty seconds to get in that room.” He had started to secrete himself near the door, his phone in his hand with a series of small screens on it, showing different angles of the cottage.

  I ushered Katie into the utility room which had no windows and only one door that led into the kitchen. It was small, containing only a sink, washer and dryer and as secure a place as there was in the cottage.

  Silence blanketed us; I could only hear the rushing of my blood and my breath which I tried to slow down. My fingers tingled with adrenaline and fear and I grabbed Katie’s hands with mine, needing the touch of another human. Her lips mouthed the word ‘fuck’ over and over, al
most like a mantra and we tried to listen.

  There was nothing. No sound, no rustling or bang or shot of a gun. I wanted to ask Katie if she thought I should go out, but I had no idea if anyone would hear me, if someone was on the other side of the door waiting for us.

  And then it came.

  Noise.

  I heard Denico’s voice, the words too fast to be deciphered and then there was banging, crashing, the thud of something falling and another male voice, swearing and threatening before the noise came to an abrupt stop. It was over in what must’ve been seconds although I felt as if I had been holding my breath for days.

  “Katie! Claire! It’s clear.” Denico yelled, sounding remarkablychipper. I tentatively opened the door and went through to the lounge where Denico was restraining a large man wearing black jeans and a thick black sweater, a deep gash to the head, his eye already swelling up. They were on the floor, the man on his stomach, face to his left.

  The front door opened and I flinched, ready to run back through the kitchen and grab a knife on the way, but it was only Nick. Tall, muscled Nick who looked as if he was ready to take on the world and fight it. “What the fuck?” he said, dropping down to the man Denico still had hold of. “Who the fuck are you?” he said, his tone low and menacing. He started to search him, pulling out a phone that was switched off. “Talk to me.” He kept his hands off him, his eyes fixed and I wondered if Killian had ever looked that threatening. “The police are on their way. You came here on a bike so you’re clearly not expecting to steal much.”

  “Jewellery,” he said. “I was after jewellery. If there was none here I was going to the house over there.” He referred to my parents.

  “So why were you going through those papers?” Denico said, tightening his grip around the man’s arms and applying a bit more pressure with knee he had in his back. “I filmed you breaking in through the door – good run up there by the way – and going straight for my briefcase.”

  I’d taken my papers and satchel into the utility room with us, although the only thing in there was the documents I’d received from Lacey’s lawyers and printed out the day before. Everything else was on my laptop which was in the safe at my parents. But there was whatever Katie had with her. I knew there were photographs, selfies she’d taken after Lacey had hit her one night and pictures of her arms where there were bruises from his hands and fingers, and photos of him with an eighteen-year-old. She had print outs of messages he’d sent her and recordings of voicemails; all were enough evidence to take to the police and have him arrested. All would ensure a quick divorce. All of which she refused to use, saying he had enough on her to turn her world around.

  “Thought there might be jewellery in there. You know, a watch or something.” He was heavily accented and sweating profusely, his face scarred and pale. He looked like he could’ve been a stereotypic thief.

  “Where did you get the bike from? Is that nicked too?” Nick said. I heard engines outside and then voices and footsteps.

  “Morning, Claire.” I recognised the police officer. Malcolm Rayner had been working the beat near us since I had been a teenager. He’d gradually worked his way up to sergeant but had stayed in Oxford. “What trouble had you brought me?”

  “He broke into the house through the front door. Did a bit of rummaging through a briefcase.” Nick said. “It’s all on camera.”

  “You’re the security guy?” Rayner said. “Grant mentioned you were fitting some gear. Can’t be too careful nowadays, especially with criminals like these who are often after cars.”

  Two other police officers had entered and were handcuffing the intruder and reading him his rights. I’d started to feel like my feet were back on the ground and I wasn’t actually watching some police drama.

  “We’ll need to get some statements,” Rayner said. “And are you able to send the footage over?” He looked at Nick who nodded, his phone in front of him, fingers typing. I went into the kitchen and started to make coffee, needing the normality, needing space to breathe.

  Killian arrived shortly after Rayner had finished taking our statements and the police were in possession of the video footage of the man coming down the narrow lane and forcing the door to the cottage. Denico had filmed him going through the briefcase and then starting to pull open a drawer. It was after that when Denico had grabbed him from behind which was what we’d heard.

  “You okay?” Killian said. He was wearing a suit without the tie, the neck button undone. “I can’t fucking believe this happened when I wasn’t here.”

  “It could just be a straightforward attempt at robbery,” I said. “Houses round here are targeted frequently. It probably has nothing to do with Dean…”

  “Like fuck it doesn’t,” he said. I felt the anger pouring off him. “It’s too much of a coincidence, Claire. Lacey’s hired some low-level criminal who probably owes him a favour to break in and see what he can get. He’s gone straight for the paperwork. The guy didn’t even have the sense to search for phones or tablets first.” Killian pushed his fingers through his hair and looked up to the ceiling. “We’ve got his name. Unfortunately, the bike was nicked yesterday so that doesn’t help us. Nick will get someone on trying to find a connection between Lacey or an associate of Lacey but my guess is that it’ll be buried deep.”

  “Where’s Katie?” I said, realising that the house was quiet. The police had gone a few minutes ago and Denico was outside, inspecting the door and checking the perimeter.

  “She’s with Nick. He’s taken her over to your parents,” Killian said. “Look, how do you feel about staying at my place tonight?”

  “I thought you’d sorted security at my apartment?” My tone was sharp. I was unsettled, understandably so and I needed to be in a place where I felt comfortable.

  Killian folded his arms over his chest and looked impatient. “I have. But given that I’ve just broken several speed limits to get here as soon as I heard what had happened, I’d really prefer to have you somewhere I can pretty much completely control so I know you’re safe.”

  “Why wouldn’t my apartment be safe?” I said, hands on my hips. “You’re the hot shot security guy; why would I not be safe there? Are we wasting our money?”

  Instead of looking even more riled he started to grin, relaxing his arms and reaching for me. “Your place is secure. But mine is more so. And if I’m not in the same building as you tonight I’m not going to sleep. I’ll be staring at my monitors watching for anyone walking past your building and if anyone looked like they were near your door I’d be there.”

  “Why can’t you stay at mine?” His hands gently gripped my arms, pulling me closer to him

  “Because as good a job as we’ve done at yours, I still know the weak points. By staying at mine, you’d be making me feel better. Look, Claire, I’m not trying to force things but I can’t tell you what it was like when Nick called me to say there was an intruder. We didn’t think Lacey would act this quickly.” I saw the pain and the urgency in his eyes and my stubborn streak was pacified.

  “I’ll stay at yours. But I need to go into the office and pick clothes and other crap up from mine,” I said. “And the intruder might have nothing to do with Lacey. It could all just be a very badly timed coincidence.”

  “You’re right; it might not be connected. We can do all that. I’ll drive. Leave your car here. It’ll be more secure especially if you leave it in your parents’ garage. And I’m still taking you out on that date,” he said, his voice now quieter, but still firm.

  “Killian,” I said. “Your house – where is it? What’s in like?”

  He grinned wickedly. “It’s in Southwark. I’ve only been there two months and it’s got four bedrooms so you can have your space. I meant what I said about not wanting to force things, although I’ve had a dungeon built in the basement.”

  My eyes widened as I looked at him, his smile devilish and then I broke out in laughter. “You almost had me then!”

  “You know me, bab
y. I don’t need equipment,” he said, delicious wickedness in his words. “I’ve already got all the equipment you’ll ever need.”

  I laughed hard, my stomach hurting and my arms holding on like he was my anchor.

  Which was what he had always been.

  We left for the office in the morning, needing to sort out business in London and tidy up any lose ends for the next few days. Life was simpler in the country, but after the break in I was looking forward to being back where there was the constant noise of other people, of things, cars, chatter, tourists – anything to stop my brain from trying to make sense of what had happened.

  Maxwell was the oldest of the seven of us and the most like our father. He lived for his job and was fucking brilliant at it, specialising in medical malpractice and class action suits. As the eldest, he should’ve been the one to run the firm, but he was married to the law and Jackson, the second eldest, had more of a passion for business.

  He was in his office as I was getting ready to leave, Killian using the gym that Max and Jackson had installed in the basement of the building. The door was open, so I popped my head round, seeing my brother sitting at his desk, looking over papers and pulling at his beard. “How’s it going?” I said, inviting myself in.

  “It’ll be fine after Thursday when we have the preliminary hearing. The barrister on the opposing side is a tool so I’ll have to make sure I don’t end up introducing my fist to his face.” Max would make comments like this to help him reign in his temper, although he did do MMA in whatever spare time he had left, something that pissed me off when I saw him injured. “And I’ll feel better when your case is over. You need to do whatever you can to wrap it up quick, Claire, for your sake and Katie’s.”