Before the sun had peeked over the horizon, Jayne decided that she had enough light to start moving again. A quick glance at her foot revealed a two-inch gash in her heel. Blood had coagulated, but from what she could make out, it would definitely need stitches and a healthy dose of antibiotics.
Using only the ball of her left foot, she hobbled through the trees, and in the growing light, it didn’t take her long to find a path. The weight of terror lifted from her shoulders, replaced by hope. Dragging her left foot behind her, ignoring the throbbing pain, she scampered as quickly as she could down the path.
A distant sound of an engine made her halt, her ears straining to figure out which direction it was coming from, but with the sound bouncing off the trees all around her, it was impossible to determine.
She cursed and set off once more. The farther she went, the louder the noise grew from what had to be a nearby road. With a silent whoop of excitement, she upped her pace, and after what seemed like an age, she saw a car speed past.
“Oh, please, please,” she muttered as she spilled onto the road. She waved her arms about, but the car didn’t stop, and eventually, it disappeared from sight. The road was little more than a small country lane, but surely, more cars would come. As that thought crossed her mind, she heard another car.
Taking a huge risk, Jayne stood in the middle of the road. She was conscious that she had to look a terrible sight, but if she gave this driver an opportunity to pass, they might take it.
As the car came into view, she began waving her arms again, and when it slowed and eventually stopped in front of her, she began to cry.
“Please,” she said, scampering around to the driver’s window to be met by the surprised and concerned gaze of a man in his early thirties. “Please help me.”
“What’s happened, love?” he said, climbing out of the car. When Jayne tried to speak, but found she couldn’t, he gently put his arm around her and placed her in the passenger seat.
“Let’s get you to hospital, okay?” He started the car and set off.
“Do you have a phone?” she managed to croak. “I need to call my boyfriend.”
“Of course, love. It’s in my briefcase.” He pointed into the back seat. “Stops the temptation to answer it when I’m driving,” he said with a grin.
Jayne unhooked her seatbelt and scrabbled around the back seat, eventually locating his phone.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Not far from Challock.” When she frowned, he added, “Kent Downs.”
“Do you have any water?”
He gave her a pained look. “I’m sorry, love, I don’t. We’ll be at hospital soon though.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he said, “I’d better call my boss.”
With a shaking hand, Jayne dialled Rupe’s number. He answered on the first ring.
“Fisher,” he snapped.
“Rupe, it’s me,” she cried. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“Jayne!” His tone swam with relief. “Where are you? Oh God, where are you, babe?”
“I managed to get out. I’m in a car.” She began to sob. “Someone stopped for me.”
Her saviour gave her an embarrassed grin.
“Tell me where you are, Jayne. I’m coming to get you.”
“I’m…” She turned to the man. “Which hospital are you taking me to?”
“William Harvey is probably the closest.”
“I got that. I’ll be there.” Rupe hesitated. “Are you badly hurt?”
“I’m okay. Honestly. Just be there, please.”
“I’m setting off right now.”
Jayne began to cry softly as she hung up. She was safe. And despite the pain, the suffering, the fact that her foot was most likely infected and her ribs severely bruised—if not cracked—a possible broken cheekbone, and her desperation for a drink, a small smile stole over her face.
She had that fucker locked in his own tomb.
36
Rupe launched himself through the automatic doors of the emergency department with Mike at his shoulder. At the reception desk, a couple of young mothers with distraught kids perched on their hips were trying to explain to the overworked receptionists why their offspring were in the process of deafening the whole waiting area.
“I’m looking for Jayne Seymour,” he said, ignoring the glares from the two mothers.
“If you’ll just wait a moment, sir,” the receptionist said. “I’m dealing with these ladies at the moment.”
Mike stepped forward and flashed his badge at the mothers. “Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he said, giving them a warm, friendly smile. “Police business.” His gaze turned to the receptionist. “Jayne Seymour?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
The receptionist clicked her mouse several times. “Cubicle four.”
Rupe took off. He drew back the curtain of the cubicle and inhaled sharply when he saw what that bastard had done to his girl.
“From the look on your face, I take it I’m out of this year’s Miss World competition.” Despite the attempt at humour, her bottom lip wobbled.
As gently as he could, he drew her into his arms. “I’m here,” he said, stroking her hair. “You’re safe.”
Jayne began to cry then. His tough-as-they-come, sharp-witted, and even sharper-tongued girl broke down in his arms and sobbed. Rupe met Mike’s gaze and cocked his head. Mike nodded and stepped outside, pulling the curtain across to give them some privacy.
When she’d stopped crying, Rupe drew back and gently brushed a stray hair from her face. “What has the doctor said?”
She sniffed and dragged the back of her hand over her nose. “I’ve only been triaged so far. I need stitches in my foot, and he thinks my ribs may be cracked or at least very bruised. Same with my cheekbone. He’ll know more after the X-rays.”
Anger surged through Rupe. He wasn’t the kind of guy who experienced such extremes of emotion, but after what Jayne had been put through by that bastard, he’d see Fisher in hell. His emotions must have been playing out on his face because Jayne squeezed his arm.
“I’m going to be okay. That’s all that matters.”
Rupe shook his head. “No, it’s not.”
“Hey,” she said with a shake of his arm. “Rein in the alpha, okay?”
Despite the fury making his insides churn uncomfortably, he grinned. “I’ll do my best.” He tilted his head to one side. “Feel up to telling me what happened?”
She nodded. “Can you get Mike? He’ll need to hear this.”
Rupe stuck his head through the curtain and beckoned Mike over. They both pulled up a seat at Jayne’s bedside while she filled them in on the last two and a half days. When she reached the part where she escaped, intense pride surged through Rupe. He’d always known Jayne was tough—it was one of the things he found so very attractive about her. But the way she’d dealt with the horror of being kidnapped, beaten, and scared for her life humbled him.
“So he’s still underground?” Mike said when Jayne finished.
She shrugged. “I presume so, unless he’s managed to get out, although I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“Do you think you’d be able to draw us a map?” Mike asked.
“I can do better than that,” Jayne said. “I’ll show you personally, although I did wander around a bit in the woods, so it might take me a while to find the right spot. It’d be good if you could get helicopter support.”
Rupe stiffened his spine. “You’re not going back there.”
Jayne gave a small smile. “Rupert, you know I don’t react well to being told what to do.”
Mike chuckled and bumped Rupe’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t argue if I were you. Besides,” he added, “she won’t be alone.”
Rupe almost growled. “You’ve got that right.”
As the helicopter circled overhead, Jayne, Rupe, and Mike, along with a half-dozen other officers, set off through the woods from where the stranger had picked up Jayne earlier that day. Apprehens
ion rolled through her system, but she needed to do this. For her sanity, she needed to see Fisher being led away in handcuffs. Being told about it after the fact wouldn’t be the same balm to her ravaged psyche.
Word came through that the helicopter had located a clearing about half a mile ahead. As the group reached the spot, Jayne gripped Rupe tightly.
“There it is,” she whispered, pointing at some wooden slats in the ground that were partially covered by twigs and leaves, which must have been blown across by the keen breeze. Off to the side was the discarded aluminium ladder. She was astounded at the memory of how she’d managed to keep her cool and drag the ladder out of the hole with Fisher launching himself at her.
Mike held up his hand. “Okay everyone, spread out, and wait for my orders. We don’t know what he’ll do when we open the hatch.”
One of the detectives bent down to open the trapdoor. The heavy bolt scraped in the lock, and Jayne held her breath. As the detective shone a torch into the darkness, Jayne pressed forwards.
“Morning, fucker.” Mike dropped the ladder into the hole. He motioned to the detective. “Go get him.”
Jayne could feel Rupe vibrating beside her as Fisher emerged from the hole in the ground. She wrapped her hand around his waist and squeezed. Rupe’s answering response was to shield her as Fisher was handcuffed, read his rights, and led away, but not before Jayne managed to meet his gaze. As he crossed in front of her, she stuck up her middle finger and mouthed, “Fuck you.”
37
Jayne pulled her scarf more tightly around her neck and tentatively stepped outside. Slush covered the roads, the pristine white snow from a couple of days ago turned into a brown, slippery mess from the continuous footfall and traffic.
An incoming text beeped. She dug her phone out of her handbag and looked at the message: All set.
A broad smile spread across her face. Perfect. Everything was coming together nicely. She typed out a quick reply as another text came through, this time from Mike. Jayne frowned. Today was Fisher’s sentencing hearing. A week ago, he’d been found guilty of kidnapping with intent and several other charges. She’d been back and forth about whether to go to the hearing, but in the end, with the help of her counsellor, she’d decided not to. She already had her closure. Whatever happened, Fisher was looking at significant jail time. She didn’t need to hear the actual words spoken by the judge.
She opened the text. Twenty-two years, Mike had written. He’d added a smiling emoji on the end.
Jayne briefly closed her eyes as tension drained from her. Twenty-two days was a long time to spend in prison for an ex copper. Twenty-two years would be torturous.
She pushed thoughts of Fisher from her mind. He didn’t deserve another second of her attention, particularly today. She’d planned everything down to the last detail, and she wouldn’t allow anything to spoil it.
She managed to flag down a taxi. As she closed the door on the bitterly cold February wind, a thrill ran through her, even if it was tinged with fear. She hoped to God she hadn’t misread the situation. Well, there was only one way to find out.
Thirty minutes later, the cab pulled up outside Rupe’s house. She paid the driver and jumped out.
Abi opened the front door, a wide grin on her face. She gave Jayne a hug. “Everything’s here.”
“Except Rupe, I hope,” Jayne said.
“Oh, yes. Cash is delaying him until he gets your text.”
“Great.”
Jayne wandered to the back of the house and opened the door at the far end of the hallway. The smell of roses—white and pink—enveloped her, and she smiled. She stepped farther into the room. On a table in the centre, a bottle of champagne was chilling in a silver ice bucket, two crystal glasses placed on either side.
With a final check that everything was in place, she sent Cash a text: Ready.
She received one back almost immediately: Five minutes.
Her skin tingled as excitement surged through her. She began to pace as she watched the second hand tick on her watch. The slam of the front door echoing down the corridor made her pulse jump. Okay, this is it, Jayne.
“Will you stop shoving me and tell me what the fuck is going on?” she heard Rupe say.
“Just get in there, Witters,” Cash replied, making Jayne chuckle under her breath.
The door opened, and Cash pushed Rupe inside. He gave Jayne a wink before closing the door behind him.
Rupe’s mouth fell open the minute he’d stepped into the drawing room, and his expression remained stunned as Jayne walked across to him.
“Sorry for the cloak-and-dagger.” She curved her hands around his face and kissed him. Rupe leaned into her kiss before pulling away.
“Well, this is a nice surprise,” he said with a grin. “Although you pinched the flowers idea from me.”
Jayne laughed. “I’ve never been very original.”
Rupe tilted his head to the side. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Fisher got twenty-two years.”
Rupe sucked in a breath. “You went?”
Jayne shook her head. “Mike texted me.”
“And how do you feel?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure I feel anything. I’m just glad he’s no longer a part of our lives.”
“So that’s what the flowers and champagne are for? A way of putting the past behind us and looking to the future?”
“Got it in one,” Jayne said with a smirk. “Well, that, and this…” She dropped down on one knee and held out a small velvet box. Inside nestled a gold signet ring she’d had engraved with their initials.
As surprise flitted across his face, she grinned. “Now, I know this isn’t the done thing, especially for an old cad like yourself, born fifty years too late, but I also know that with everything that’s happened to me over the last few months, you wouldn’t want to push. So I’m asking you instead. Will you marry me?”
Rupe sank down onto his haunches until he was at eye level with her. He gripped her by the shoulders and eased her to her feet. A jolt of panic shot through her. A grave expression crossed his face, one usually reserved for when things were really dire.
“I mean you don’t have to, and I totally understand if—”
Rupe placed a single finger over her lips. “Shush. Wait here.”
He disappeared into the hallway, and Jayne sank into the nearest chair before her legs gave out. She’d made a horrid mistake. Rupe was old-fashioned, in so many ways, and given his less-than-enthusiastic response to her proposal, she clearly should have waited for him to ask first.
Rupe returned a few minutes later, one hand stuffed into the front pocket of his jeans. Then he held out his other hand and helped her to her feet. He flicked a lock of hair over her shoulder and then caressed her cheek.
“You’re right. I am old-fashioned, especially when it comes to asking the woman I love to marry me.” He held his palm towards her. On top was a black velvet box, almost identical to the one she’d presented to him. “I bought this months ago. I wanted to be prepared for when you were ready. I guess that time is now.”
His eyes were full of tenderness as he opened the box. Inside was an oval-shaped diamond surrounded with tiny sapphires. Tears welled up behind Jayne’s eyes as Rupe slipped it onto her finger. He held out his hand for her to do the same to him. He touched his palm to her cheek. “I know what a tough few months it’s been. I know you like people to believe that time didn’t fuck you up, but I also know you, Janey. That’s why I waited.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “That’s a yes, in case you’re wondering.”
Jayne laughed. “You had me worried for a moment.”
He pulled her into his arms and rested his forehead against hers. “I never thought I’d feel grateful for being charged with murder, but if I hadn’t been, then I wouldn’t have found you.”
Jayne wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m not an easy person to live with. I’m a workaholic, I constantly br
ing my cases home with me, and I get far too embroiled in the lives of my clients.”
Rupe grinned. “I don’t mind competing for your time and affection.” He ran the tip of his nose down hers. “But you should know that I will play dirty to make sure I win.”
Jayne pulled him down for a kiss. “I was rather hoping you’d say that.”
THE END
CASH
A WINNING ACE SHORT STORY
GRAB YOUR COPY FREE WITH SIGN UP TO MY READER GROUP
Don’t let appearances fool you…
Tennis ace Cash Gallagher has it all—money, fame, adoration
Women want him.
Men want to be him.
But for Cash, it's not enough.
Something is missing.
And if he doesn't figure out what, he may lose his mind.
Read the short story prequel to Winning Ace, and get a sneak-peak into Cash's life before Tally
WINNING ACE
(THE WINNING ACE SERIES BOOK 1)
Does Tally McKenzie want the man?
Or the story?
She can't have both.
Tally's driven. She loves being a reporter. All she needs is a big break. When it comes, she won't miss it.
Cash dominates centre court. Outside tennis, he keeps everyone at arms length, especially the press. What if they discover his secret?
Tally, though, gets through, and there's a spark... a hot, burning spark.
He trusts her. Was it a mistake?
Will she betray him?
Her heart wants love—and the promotion.
Which will she choose?
To find out, grab your copy of Winning Ace, the first book in the Winning Ace series at Amazon today.
Mismatch: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 4) (A Winning Ace Novel) Page 20
