The Fix (Nightlong Series Book 2)

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  Here, probably.

  “I wish I could take you somewhere far, far away but I won’t spend my life looking over my shoulder. I won’t give up on the women of Pernox. I won’t give up on bringing the perpetrator to justice and finally putting things right.”

  “I can’t listen to this. I don’t know how–” She paused, huffing, “I don’t know how we got ourselves here.”

  “Yes you do,” I insisted, “it was simple. We fell in love, remember?”

  “No,” she said, vehement, pulling herself from my arms accusingly, “you, you, Dante. You happened.”

  “I don’t disagree. I happened, I know that. I juggled the impossible and then I juggled you as well and shit happened. That’s life for you.”

  “As tactful as ever!”

  She left my arms in a heated mess and I listened as she ran upstairs to the bedroom. Throwing my head back into the cushions of the sofa, I shut my eyes and tried to put my mind at ease with thoughts of anything. Thoughts of Paris. Thoughts of her boobs. Thoughts of the cars I was going to buy once I got my license unrevoked. Maybe if I could take my headspace out of the present conundrum, a bright idea would hit me.

  Fat chance.

  Picking up my phone I dialled Sexton who hopefully still sat outside the house in the Phantom, keeping watch.

  “Anything?”

  “No,” he whispered, “nothing at all.”

  “Would you make a trip to the shops for me, then you may as well go get some sleep somewhere?”

  “I can stay, I don’t mind.”

  “I’ll set all the alarms. We’ll be fine. After all, she did live here alone all those years without any trouble. It’s a pretty safe borough.”

  “Yes… and she’ll not forget that, you know. All them years alone.”

  I heard the warning in his voice, telling me my relationship with Ciara had started off on rocky ground. The wrong foot maybe, even.

  In his opinion, I should have let her go free years ago. He still didn’t think it was too late to let her go now either – giving her a chance at a normal life at least. For me that was impossible – letting her go was something I could never do. If I could have done it already, I would have. Maybe it would have been easier if I shipped out and skipped the continent, started again perhaps, but it wasn’t a solution I deemed any better than our current predicament.

  I had to stay and resolve all my issues. For too long I’d ignored them. Now was the time to get real.

  “What’s done is done. Anyway, will you grab some things for me?”

  “Certainly. You do pay me, remember?”

  “Well, Ciara taught me not to expect people to listen to orders without asking politely first.”

  “She’s a good girl, though part of me wonders whether you turning over a new leaf caused all this fucking mess.”

  “Me too, god, me too mate.”

  “Go on then, I’ve got a pen and paper in front of me.”

  “Okay, well if you could get me…”

  I reeled off my list and he asked if I was telling him right. A few times I almost barked at him, “yes” but stopped myself.

  “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he said, “and then I’m putting my head down.”

  “Thanks.”

  AN hour later, he arrived back with the goods. At the doorstep, he passed me a few bags filled with various items.

  “All looks good.”

  “Terrific. I’ll be off then.”

  “Where are you kipping?”

  He winked. “I’ll go to my sister’s out in Cambridgeshire but I’ll have to leave the car here otherwise she’ll ask questions about my alleged retirement. Might mean Ciara becoming driver?”

  “She’ll love that.”

  Passing me the keys, he shook my hand at the same time. “Call me in a few days. You got a gun?”

  “I’ve got ten.”

  He chuckled. “Bye.”

  He walked past the Phantom, giving the old girl a pat on the bonnet as he passed. He and that thing were nigh on inseparable.

  After I shut the front door behind me, I switched off all the lights in the hallway and then upstairs in the living room, I peered through the curtains to watch him walk away. While Sexton made for the main road and no doubt a taxi rank, I didn’t see anyone tailing him down the dusky, streetlamp-lit street. Not that Sexton had any money to steal, any secrets to buy or even a watch to borrow. He was a man of few material possessions. Just a man following orders.

  After checking the windows and doors at least three times each, I set the alarms and hopped the stairs upwards to the bedroom, carrying all the goods Sexton had acquired for me.

  Ciara lay belly-down on the bed, scribbling wildly in one of her notebooks, elbows propping her up. The next thing I noticed was that she was dressed for bed in a pair of don’t-touch-me flannel pyjamas.

  “Sexton’s gone.”

  “Gone, where?” She peered sideways at me.

  “To his sister’s. She’s out in Cambridgeshire. If ever we’ve had a bit of bother in the past, he holes up there a few weeks. They love having him, her and his brother-in-law.”

  “Why hasn’t Sexton married?”

  “He was married. He won’t marry again.”

  “What happened to her?” Ciara rolled over and sat propped up against the pillows.

  “Died of cancer. Left him bereft.”

  “He never mentioned, not in all these years.”

  “He barely mentions it to his best mate, don’t worry about it.”

  I dumped the bags I was carrying on the chaise longue and she peered across the room.

  “What’s all that?”

  “Stuff.”

  “Oh. Stuff.”

  “If you’re a good girl, you might get some stuff.”

  Groaning, she warned, “I’m too tired and too sad for all that.”

  Shaking my head, I ignored her and walked to the en suite to strip out of my clothes and clean my teeth.

  “I take it I’m not allowed to peek?”

  “No,” I gargled as the electric toothbrush did its job.

  “Whatever.”

  “Young lady–”

  “Ugh,” she mumbled, and I knew better than to goad her. Right now she was entitled to feel pissed off.

  Returning to the room, I demanded, “Now, if you could remove the straight jacket, I’ve got a few different oils in the bag to test out on you.”

  Suppressing a snigger, she mumbled, “Only you could make that sound both perverse and enticing.”

  “Up, up, up,” I asked, standing by the side of the bed with a large bath sheet.

  While she undressed I spread the sheet over the duvet and placed a hand towel over a pillow.

  “On your belly.”

  She lay down with her panties still on.

  “Are you still bleeding? How long has it been now?”

  “Doctor said it could go on a week or more.”

  “Okay. You rang her?”

  “Yep. She said because the pain’s gone, I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s good to hear.” Straddling her rear, I asked, “Patchouli, lavender or frankincense?”

  “All of the above.”

  I laughed. “I thought you’d say that. I’ll save the frankincense for later and the others I’ll mix together.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Spreading some oil between my fingers, I warmed up my hands and trickled some of both oils over her back.

  “Just relax, Ciara. Okay? Unless you say I’m doing something wrong, we’ll stay quiet.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Any other circumstances and those words would have had me using oil on parts of her body that really needed lube.

  Starting on her lymph glands, it was clear she was tense and retaining water, no doubt following the miscarriage. I knew I had to save an intense massage for some other time and go gentle on her this one time.

  “How’s the pressure?”

  “It’s fine, Dante,�
� she sighed, a hint of pleasure in her silvery tone.

  “Just focus on the fact I love you… and let everything else drift away, okay?”

  “For you, I’ll try.”

  “Quiet now.”

  Reaching for her phone, she put some music on, her Spotify app connecting to one of the many sound bars I’d had installed for her around the house. I’d found out a while ago that she loved classical music and she chose to listen to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack that night. It seemed to help in settling her.

  I lost myself in tracing her shoulder blades, the curves of her sides. Counting ribs and the ridges of her spine, I rubbed her rhythmically again and again. Eventually I stopped counting and the knots in her back became squidgy and her sighs deeper, her breathing more level.

  Lifting off her backside, I took to massaging the backs of her thighs and calves.

  Sensing she might fall asleep if I kept going, I asked if she would roll over and I helped her pull a camisole on.

  In silence I directed her to the dressing table and she seemed much more relaxed than she was earlier, no longer questioning anything, no longer worried.

  I, on the other hand, had a million things on my mind.

  How could I have been so stupid to trust Shay? I should’ve known. What sort of mindset must she have been in to kill Daltrey? I couldn’t imagine.

  I pulled a few more items out of the bag of stuff Sexton had retrieved for me and produced a nail care kit.

  “You’re giving me a manicure?”

  “Umm-hmm,” I confessed, “maybe even a mani-pedi. I’ve had enough myself to know how to do them. The therapists at the spa have always been happy to service me.”

  “Oh my goodness, service you?”

  “Purely innocent, I assure you. Anyway, one of my first sessions with you was on how to do nails, remember?”

  I began filing her fingernails down, sat at her feet on a footstool, a towel over my lap.

  “I remember. I was scared that night.”

  “You didn’t seem scared.”

  “Well, I was.”

  Reluctant to tell me why, I badgered her. “Why?”

  “Well,” she sighed, shifting uncomfortably in her chair, “I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I thought I was certain to be a goner. Felt sure you’d see right through me and send me packing.”

  “I did see right through you,” I agreed, catching her eye. She looked so shy, and it was so endearing, it made me love her even more. “I saw you were a girl with a crush and it pumped up my ego no end. For a man with little hope in his heart, you began to help me rebuild myself.”

  “I had no idea,” she said in a faint voice.

  “Hey, hey,” I soothed her, stroking her wrist, “it’s all in the past.”

  “I know but I can’t help getting emotional at times like this. Your confessions make me wonder how different everything might have been had we got together sooner.”

  I began polishing her nails and pushing the cuticles down, then cutting any excess away.

  “I think we got together at exactly the right time. You were ready to love me… and I was ready to love you. All that matters, is that we are together right now.”

  Rubbing some frankincense into her hands, I realised how small and dainty her fingers were, even though she was such a strong woman.

  “So… you weren’t afraid of hurting me?” I questioned.

  “You mean… with the strap?”

  “Yes,” I chuckled. “That’s not why you were afraid?”

  “I was afraid of that, too but not as afraid of that as I was afraid of losing you.”

  “I see.”

  “Well, I mean…” She trailed off, thinking about it. “…I kind of got to like it, even though it scared me how much pain you could take.”

  Smiling as I undertook my work, I felt proud when I said, “You do like being in charge.”

  “I liked to think I was in charge, even though I knew I really wasn’t. Not with you, anyway.”

  “Really?” I tried to seem surprised.

  “I loved dominating Teddy. I can see how the whole having someone’s life in your hands could become addictive.”

  “For me, being your sir is more than that. Being your sub is more than that, too.”

  I looked up into her eyes and she said, “You’re a switch.”

  “I guess.”

  “Why do you sound reluctant to admit it?”

  She’d already turned the conversation around on me. I loved her ability to do this to me. I also in part, hated it.

  “I didn’t know I liked to be on the receiving end, not until you.”

  “So with Shay,” she said, a tremor in her voice, “it was her beneath you.”

  “I topped her, yes.”

  “I’m guessing she was a pure masochist. She asked for more and more?”

  “She was; she did.”

  I began painting her nails with a red lacquer and while trying to concentrate, I remained quiet while she suggested, “I’m guessing she frightened you, with how much she could take. You liked to give it but the freedom she gave you scared you, too. If she was dependent on you, the thought of losing you could have driven her to kill Daltrey… to kill others.”

  I loved the empath in Ciara, and also wished she would switch off her telepathy sometimes.

  “She must have known that Daltrey was going to try and split us up. What we shared wasn’t healthy and she knew it, I knew it. I never said I loved her, never promised anything. She didn’t seem to think that mattered–”

  “But it always matters.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “She was an older woman and I didn’t know better. I trusted the wrong person and she was a masochist in every sense of the world. It was a tragic combination.”

  “Maybe she did kill Daltrey, okay? That I could buy. But… I don’t think she killed your staff. Thing is, right… while I was staying at Pernox, I barely – if ever – saw her leave the grounds. Why would she drive all the way out to Elstree to murder twelve people she’s never even met? Which can only mean that someone that looked like her did it. The footage of the Elstree house showed a woman with a similar figure. But we didn’t see her face. Escaping with all that stuff of yours she took off with… alone? I imagine you had some big pieces of equipment up there in the attic. Surely she wasn’t strong enough to get it down the stairs alone? Did she know about the Bat Cave, did she have a getaway car? Was there someone on the inside? How… it… just doesn’t fit! You know?” I reflected Ciara’s confusion, nodding along with her. She spoke my thoughts exactly. “There must have been an accomplice… or something we’ve missed. Someone else.”

  “It’s playing on my mind, too… of course it is. I need the truth as much as you but I’d rather you just let me worry.”

  “We’re in this together, Dante.”

  I started on her toenails, repeating the process. She kept herself in good condition so not much work was needed.

  “This is my mess.” And as long as I had her, I could cope with anything.

  Really, anything.

  I was surprised I was so calm, but she seemed to be the one not calm, and my love for her forced me to be the rational one at times like this.

  “Now it’s mine, too. You did ask me to marry you, remember?” She flashed me her engagement ring.

  “So you agree, we can’t run away?”

  “As attractive as that seems, I know we can’t,” she sighed.

  “The best place for us to start would be Pernox. See who’s really devastated by Shay’s death. See who’s stayed. Who’s gone.”

  “Okay.”

  I finished off her mini spa session with some quick-drying finisher and she admired my handiwork.

  “I’m not tired,” she said, “my mind’s a million miles an hour again now.”

  “Then we may as well make the trip right now, hmm?”

  “You think?”

  “It will mean you driving the Phantom.”

 
With one eyebrow cocked, she put her hands on her hips and dramatically posed.

  “I could so carry off a female chauffeur outfit.”

  “I would not survive that!”

  She laughed and we both threw any old clothes on.

  Eleven

  AS WE LEFT LONDON, THE Phantom’s powerful engine droned eerily beneath us as we passed through the dark night. I dialled Pernox from my phone but nobody picked up, accentuating my fear that we could be making a wasted trip. I tried a few more times and on the fifth try, someone picked up.

  “Hello?” a shaky voice asked.

  “To whom am I speaking?” I asked. “This is Mr Sinclair.”

  “Oh, oh… Mr Sinclair,” the girl gushed, “it’s Mistress Amber. I rushed up to Shay’s office just in time it seems.”

  “I’ve been calling for the past half an hour.”

  “Oh.”

  “Listen,” I cleared my voice, “I’m on my way and I need you to leave the front gate unlocked, okay? Just so that I can push it open.”

  The car relatively quiet, the city now fading behind us into the distance, I had no doubt something was afoot… something sinister. What? I was going to find out.

  “I can do that.”

  “Now, why was the phone ringing for so long? Where is everyone?”

  “Oh, Mr Sinclair, well…”

  “Get to the point.”

  “Most have left. We had to shut down tonight. You can imagine the regulars were most displeased.”

  “Left. What the hell do you mean?”

  “Out of fear. Shay’s been killed. Surely you know this?”

  “Yes… but I don’t think it has anything to do with Pernox?”

  “How could it not? This place was her life! How could it not have something to do with us here? Nobody outside of this place knows her for goodness sake.”

  “Mistress Amber,” I warned in a husky tone, catching Ciara’s attention. Looking across at me from the driving seat, she raised one eyebrow. “Why on Earth would a single one of our clients want to kill Shay? She was the only one keeping the place running smoothly. It was a roadside mugging. She did after all drive a Roadster. She did have money.”