by Alice Raine
‘I know, Caitlin sensed something was up.’ I forced the seat belt into the lock and made an impatient gesture with my hand. ‘Get going, haven’t got a second to waste.’
Flashing me a narrow-eyed stare, Flynn followed my instructions and started the car. ‘You wanna explain what the fuck is going on? You call me up in the middle of my night off, demand I get here, and when I do you look like someone’s shoved a poker up your ass.’
Pulling out my phone, I found the text from Pearson and began programming the satnav with the address he had sent me. ‘They found him. Lambert, he’s still in L.A.’ Flynn had been working every spare minute on tracking down Caitlin’s ex, so this would no doubt be music to his ears.
There was a second of silence as Flynn digested my words, and then his foot stamped onto the accelerator so hard that I was thrown back in my seat. ‘Let’s go get the miserable fucker,’ he suggested.
‘My thoughts exactly,’ I agreed grimly. Every fibre in my being was screaming at me to go to Lambert and rip him limb from pitiful limb. Gregory fucking Lambert. Caitlin’s abuser, Allie’s attacker.
After stabbing Allie and attempting to rape Caitlin for the second time, I’d thought he might have scarpered, but the arrogant fuck had hung around. All the better for me, but I was going to make him regret that decision.
From the reports that Edward had supplied last week, it was clear Lambert’s abuse of Caitlin was far from a one-time thing; in fact, there were multiple allegations against him for sexual assault, rape, and attempted rape. Enough to fill four A4 pages, spanning a period of over nine years.
It seemed he got his kicks from mistreating women, and Caitlin’s sweet, innocent perfection had caught his eye and turned into an obsession.
How the tables had turned, I thought, because now he had caught my eye.
Fifty-seven
Jack
‘How do you want to approach this, Jack?’ Flynn asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between us. ‘Your face is far too familiar to go storming in and kicking the shit out of him. You need to be careful or you’ll end up in jail. I’d be happy to do it for you.’ I knew very well that Flynn’s offer was no word of a lie. Back in the army he’d been a violent fucker, known for his fighting skills and lack of a conscience. It didn’t matter if he was unarmed, he had more than enough imagination and training to be a veritable fighting machine if given the chance.
Rolling my head from side to side, I tried to loosen off the bunched muscles in my neck. It was no good, I was wound so tight I could feel every tic and jump of the tension flowing around my body. I actually found Flynn’s offer quite touching; coming from a guy as unsentimental as he was, I knew it showed how much he respected me and the bond I had with Caitlin, and that knowledge meant a great deal to me.
‘I appreciate that, Flynn, thank you. But unfortunately it’s not going to be quite as simple as that.’
Giving an acknowledging grunt, he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. ‘Never fucking is. You ready to fill me in on the details from Edward?’
Clearing my throat, I pulled my phone from my pocket and scanned the messages. ‘I paid that private security team you hired a little bonus to help us track down Lambert. They managed to trace a lot of his movements over the past few years. It seems that while he was happy to abuse and attack other women, he was still constantly searching for Caitlin. She obviously caught his eye more than the rest.’
‘The one that got away,’ Flynn grunted.
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought. Caitlin has made herself as invisible as possible. She has no social media, a burner phone, and no other obvious means for him to follow her, so it made tracing her tricky. He entered the states a little over six weeks ago, but the trail went dead until he surfaced at the studios and hit me. Then he managed to drop under the radar again until the attack on Allie and Caitlin.
‘A little over half an hour ago, a report of a sexual assault in progress was filed from a downtown apartment. The woman who called said her flatmate was being attacked by a guy she had been on a date with, and gave his name as Greg Lambert.’
‘Holy shit,’ Flynn cursed under his breath. We must have been breaking the legal limit by quite some way. ‘He’s still using his real name?’ Flynn exclaimed, letting out a sharp breath that was almost a scornful laugh. ‘Arrogant fucker deserves what’s coming to him.’
‘He does,’ I agreed, my voice thick and low. ‘Apparently the flatmate got home from work early and heard her friend screaming so she called the police. Edward’s people had been tracking the police radio in case Greg’s name came up, so I guess we got lucky.’
Checking the satnav, I saw we were just three minutes away from our destination, so I pulled up the hood on my sweater and donned my shades. It wasn’t the best disguise ever, but it would have to do. ‘The police are already on the scene, but one of Edward’s guys is too. He’s pretty pally with the detective leading the case so he thinks he might be able to get me a minute to speak with Lambert.’
Flynn took his eyes off the road long enough to fix me with a hard stare. ‘You better do more than fucking speak to him, or I really will shove a poker up your ass.’
‘Don’t worry, I plan to,’ I replied as I saw the red and blue lights flashing in the road ahead.
As Flynn pulled the car to a stop by the police tape he looked at me and tutted. ‘You’re still recognisable.’ Leaning across, he pulled out a black woollen hat and threw it in my lap. ‘This rolls out into a balaclava. Don’t forget to use it when you’re with him, we can’t have your name getting dragged into this.’
Nodding my thanks, I pulled the beanie hat on, replaced my hood, and slid from the car.
Edward’s guy on the scene knew our car and must have seen us coming, because he was standing beside me before I’d even taken in the scene. I hunched my shoulders, still with my hood, hat, and glasses on, and watched as the tall, broad man pulled some ID from his wallet to prove he did indeed work with Pearson Security.
‘Jack, my name is Wilson.’ Pearson and his team all knew who I was, but a very large upfront payment could get you pretty much anything you needed these days, discretion included. ‘Our suspect, Mr Lambert, is to be taken to the central police department for further questioning over tonight’s attempted assault. I’ve managed to delay his departure. At the moment, he’s inside with two uniformed officers. I’m familiar with Detective Jacobs and he’s keen to move things along. I haven’t mentioned your name; but I’ve told him you’re a friend of mine.’
‘Thank you, Wilson.’ Nodding curtly, I followed him as he began to lead me towards a heavily built guy in a suit who was barking orders at a forensic team and looking almost as harassed as I felt.
‘Jacobs, this is my friend. He’d like a quick word with you.’
Jacobs sized me up, no doubt taking in my shades and hood with suspicion – it was night-time, after all–before finally holding out a hand to me. ‘Thank you for speaking to me. I know you need to get him to jail, but that fucker in there attacked my girlfriend and has been making her life hell for the last three years.’
I could tell my words were not the ones he had been expecting, and before my eyes, the detective’s face lost its suspicion and moulded into understanding. ‘He’s a scrawny runt and looks so unassuming, but he’s got a list as long as my fucking arm.’
‘Did you work the attack in Studio City? The two girls? One was stabbed and the other only just escaped a rape?’ I asked, watching as the Detective’s eyes narrowed and then he nodded.
‘My girlfriend was one of the victims. Again. This is the second time he’s tried to rape her.’
‘Christ, I’m sorry to hear that. I did work that case...’
Every muscle clenched in my body. ‘Will he go down for this? Or is there a chance he’ll get off?’
The detective gave a thin, satisfied smile. ‘There’s no chance. We have some possible links between him and a few attacks on students several years ago, bu
t since he’s been back in the US he’s become sloppy; we’ve got DNA evidence from several of the victims, including a spittle sample from the attack on your girlfriend, and tonight we have him at the scene with two viable witnesses.Seems like his MO is to target younger women who he can impress by splashing them with cash. Often students or recent graduates. If I get my way, he won’t be getting out for a very, very long time. If ever.’
My shoulders sagged in relief that Caitlin would finally be free from the shadow of this monster.
‘What exactly can I do to help?’ the detective inquired.
It was now or never. I doubted the guy would give me what I wanted, but I had to try. ‘I want one minute alone to speak to him.’ Jacobs’ mouth thinned into a tight line as he continued to appraise me, and I quickly realised that I needed to do some more persuasive talking. ‘Do you have a girlfriend, or a wife?’
Jacobs nodded, and rubbed his chin. ‘Yeah, a wife and two girls.’
‘Then I’m sure you can understand how intolerable I find it to know that the woman I love was hurt, and still hurts, because of that piece of shit in there.’
I saw from the spark in his eyes that Jacobs understood exactly what I was saying. ‘Wilson says you were in the military for a time back in the UK?’ I nodded my reply, too tense now to speak without demanding that he quit the small talk and just take me in there.
‘Me too, US Army. Served a term before getting out and changing to policing. Easier to enforce real justice in the army, if you know what I mean.’ I just kept quiet and nodded.
Jacobs drew in a long breath and scratched at the back of his head. ‘You want to talk to him, huh?’ he repeated, one of his eyebrows rising.
‘I do.’ I pulled off my sunglasses so the detective could see the desperation in my eyes. ‘My girlfriend was a virgin the first time he tried to force himself on her. She’s still messed up from it now,’ I confided, my voice dropping as I struggled to contain my emotion. Donning my shades again, I tried to blink away the moisture I found forming in my eyes.
‘Girl tonight was a virgin too,’ Jacobs confirmed. His use of was made my gut twist sickeningly. Cracking the knuckles of one hand, Jacobs glanced down the street. ‘My eldest daughter is studying at the local college. She lives in that block just over there, the grey brick one. This so easily could have been her.’ Shaking his head, he turned back to me and sniffed loudly.
‘You were never here, you never met me, and this never happened,’ he stated, before cocking his head toward the house. ‘Come with me.’ My heart rate rocketed through the roof. He was actually going to take me inside, and all I could do was try to keep calm as I followed him. Jacobs led us through the house–it was cluttered and messy and looked just like the student digs I’d lived in back in my college days. Jesus, Greg was in his thirties now, I couldn’t believe he had attacked a student.
My thoughts were broken when we climbed the stairs and arrived at a closed door. Jacobs pushed it open and ordered the room to be cleared before two uniformed officers traipsed out. Turning to me, Jacobs gave me a long, hard stare. ‘I’ll give you your minute. Try not to leave any visible bruises, and he better be alive when I come in.’
Nodding once, I pulled off my shades and pocketed them, then, as soon as Jacobs had turned away, I unrolled the beanie so my face was covered and entered the room to come face to face with Gregory Lambert.
As I stepped inside, I could smell sweat, sex, and cheap aftershave. My nose wrinkled from the odour. Lambert was half dressed, standing in only his jeans with his hands cuffed behind his back. His tall, wiry frame was covered in numerous poorly executed tattoos and a couple of claw marks. His ratty little eyes turned towards me, and I’m sure from the sudden widening of his pupils that he knew what was about to befall him. The balaclava was probably enough of a giveaway.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded, as he backed towards a wall.
I lunged forward. It was only sixty seconds, but I intended to use each and every one of them.
The detective had said to leave no visible bruises, so with one gloved hand I gripped his shoulder and brought my knee into his groin as hard as I could.
I’m a big guy, so the force of my leg was pretty impressive, even if I do say so myself.
Lambert let out a startled yelp, followed by a long groan of pain as he slumped forwards, but I held him up by his armpits. Once I’d started, I couldn’t stop. Images of Caitlin’s scared, trembling body filled my mind, and with every knee to his groin I tried to extract some revenge for her.
I must have hit him in the nuts at least ten times, and I was panting heavily when I finally drew away. As soon as my support was gone he keeled forward, collapsing to his knees and spewing vomit so violently that I had to jump back to avoid it as it spattered across the threadbare carpet.
I quickly moved behind his collapsed form and wrapped my gloved hands around his neck.
‘Please, no! Leave me alone!’ he yelped, his voice high and panicked. ‘Who the fuck are you?’
‘Who am I? I’m your shadow. Stay away from Caitlin, you understand? No more letters. No more postcards. No visits, phone calls, nothing. You get me?’
‘Whatever...’ he sputtered, another mouthful of vomit spewing from his mouth.
‘I’m not sure you’re taking this seriously, Gregory,’ I stated. ‘If you ever, ever contact her again, I’ll kill you before you even see me coming.’ Adjusting my grip on his neck, I pressed two fingers into the pressure point I wanted. ‘If I apply pressure here, you’ll be unconscious within eight seconds. If I keep that pressure, you’ll wake up brain damaged, if you wake up at all.’ I began a quiet countdown for Greg’s benefit.
‘Eight...seven...six...five...four...three...’
‘Fuck! I’m getting spots before my eyes! OK! OK! Fuck! I get it, no more contact with Cait!’
Shoving Lambert forward so he fell into the puddle of vomit, I stepped over him towards the door.
‘I’m glad we have an understanding. You better stick to it, Gregory, because I’ll be watching. Your prison phone calls, your mail, everything will be checked.’
With that I strode from the room, feeling marginally better. I had murderous thoughts towards this fucker, but I wasn’t a killer. I’d had retribution for Caitlin, and Lambert would get locked away. It was a winning situation all round.
Flynn didn’t say a word as I silently got into the car beside him and ripped off the balaclava, nor did we speak as he pulled the car away from the curb. In fact, we probably sat in silence for at least five minutes, the only noise in the small interior being my slightly raised breathing.
Finally, it seemed Flynn could take no more. ‘All sorted?’
Seeing Flynn glance my way, I gave a solemn nod. ‘Yes.’
‘What did you do to him?’
Flynn no doubt wanted the gory details and a step-by-step run-through, but I wasn’t really in the mood for talking, so I kept it short and sweet. ‘Let’s just say his voice will be really high-pitched for a while and his nuts are now residing somewhere in his chest cavity.’
Removing my shades, I tucked them into the neck of my jumper before running my hands over my face. ‘I couldn’t do too much, the detective was already putting his neck on the line for me as it was so I didn’t push my luck, but I feel a whole lot better now. Plus, the detective told me Gregory will be going away for a long time, probably a life sentence because of the evidence they have on him.’
‘Fucking right too.’ Flynn agreed. ‘Good call with the gloves, by the way. So, you wanna go for a drink to help relax you, or you want me to take you home?’
‘Home, I want to see Caitlin,’ I responded immediately.
Flynn nodded once and the car dropped into silence as he put his foot down and drove me home to my girl.
Fifty-eight
Cait
I woke up pleasantly warm and rolled over with a satisfied sigh. It was only as my hand stretched towards Jack’s side and felt the stone-cold shee
ts that I realised he wasn’t back. Startled into immediate wakefulness, I sat up and turned towards the clock on the bedside table.
3.27 a.m.
Blinking, I checked I had read it correctly and hastily began to untangle myself from his soft sheets. He promised he’d be back, so where was he?
My stomach twisted as I fumbled for the bedside light so I could check my phone.
No calls, no messages, and it was over six hours since he’d left the house.
The cool of the room mixed with my concern and made my skin pop with goose pimples, so I grabbed Jack’s navy dressing-gown from the back of the door and slipped it on, lifting it up to stop myself tripping as I headed pnto the landing.
Soft light permeated the hallway below, pooling on the carpet from a crack in the lounge doorway. Was he there? Nervous flutters added to the already tense feeling in my stomach as I began to cautiously descend the stairs.
I paused as I reached the lounge door. What if it wasn’t Jack inside? What if I pushed open the door and discovered a burglar? My heartrate leapt before I let out a soft, shaky laugh and rolled my eyes. I knew the extent of the security in this compound, and I knew it was top-notch–nothing, or nobody, could get in without permission.
Mind you, that’s what I’d thought about my place in Studio City, and Greg had managed to get in there, hadn’t he? A shudder ripped through my body, causing me to draw the dressing-gown tighter around myself. It was the only thing keeping me vaguely calm, because the fabric was surrounding me with Jack’s reassuring scent.
Calming my erratic breathing, I gripped the collars of the dressing-gown as I poked my head around the gap in the door.
I felt my entire body relax when I saw Jack’s familiar profile in the soft glow of a solitary lamp. Thank God. My shoulders slumped as I gripped the doorframe and released a slow breath. I must have moved with the stealth of a mouse because Jack didn’t appear to have noticed me.
