Redemption: Triple R Security, Book 3 Page 13

  Outside, the street is filled with over a hundred people, and I can hear sirens in the distance. Above it all, I hear Rick calling my name again.

  “Jess! Jessica!”

  I follow the sound, moving between couples and groups of people as they speculate about what happened.

  “Jess!”

  Then I hear a name that steals the breath from my lungs.

  “Sully! Where the fuck are you?”

  I stop dead, waiting for the call to come again, spinning on the spot as I try to locate the person calling.

  “Sully!” The call comes from my left, and I turn that way, pushing and shoving my way through people, several of whom make their annoyance known with a colourful array of names thrown at my back.

  I continue to hear the name called, and following it blindly, I step round a fire engine. My name rings out over the hurried sounds of firemen and police attempting to secure the building and move everyone away just as I see Rick up ahead and Ryder behind him calling out to him.

  Only he’s not calling out Rick’s name, but the name of the man my brother was with when he died, Sully.

  I watch in shock as Ryder reaches Rick, and they exchange a man-hug.

  I’m too far away to hear their conversation, but as Rick turns back this way, his eyes land on mine. I see relief cross his face, but all I see is the man my brother considered a friend, a brother. And the man who was the last person to see Christian alive.

  My vision blurs as nausea rolls through me, creating a boulder sized knot in my stomach, and I rest a hand on the fire engine to steady myself.

  “No, no, no. How is this possible?” The words come out muffled to my own ears, but I suddenly become aware of somebody close to me.

  Looking up, I see a female police officer. Her mouth is moving as she looks at me with concern, but I can’t hear anything. There’s just a fuzzy buzzing in my ears. When she reaches out a hand to me, I jolt away from her. I quickly look over to where Rick and Ryder were, but they’re no longer there. Instead, as I look around more, I see Rick striding towards me. His pace quickens as our eyes meet, and panic rises in my chest. I can’t be here. Can’t be near this man. A man that I’ve allowed to touch me, fuck me, even slip—just a fraction—beneath the cage surrounding my heart.

  The policewoman, sensing my panic, attempts to grab me as I begin backtracking away from her. Away from Rick.

  “Jess. Jess. Wait a second,” he calls out to me.

  I don’t wait. No, I run.

  I dive right into the middle of the crowd, stopping quickly to remove my shoes before pushing through to the other side.

  I hear my name being called and look back to see Rick crashing through behind me. With no time to get to my car, I race down the street.

  After running for ten minutes, I slow to a walk and take in my surroundings. Thankfully, I know this area quite well. Pulling my phone free, I call a cab and arrange to be picked up at the bar just round the corner from here.

  “JJ, get your arse out here before it gets cold.”

  Rolling over, I groan as Roxy hollers down the hall to me. Damn woman is a menace. But she’s the best kind. Aside from Christian, she’s the only person allowed to call me JJ.

  When we were kids, I used to hate being called Jessica, so Christian started calling me JJ. With my middle name being Joyce, after Father’s mother, it seemed like the perfect alternative. Not to mention how much is pissed our father off.

  When the cab turned down my road last night, I recognised a familiar figure standing outside my house and quickly ordered the driver to continue driving. I would say I’ve no idea how Rick knew where I lived, but given what he does for a job, it’s not a surprise.

  As it turned out, coming to Roxy’s was exactly what I needed.

  The scent of fried bacon reaches my nose as I climb from the bed and head out to the kitchen before she decides I need a bed bath as a wake-up call. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s dumped a bucket of water over me to get me up in the morning.

  Roxy and I met at college, and soon became best friends—joined at the hip as they say. My father can’t stand her, and my mother is indifferent to her, although always polite. According to my father, Roxy is foul-mouthed council trash, and exactly what is wrong with society today.

  I wholeheartedly disagree, not least because that’s what my father thinks, but because it couldn’t be further from the truth. What’s really wrong with society today is corrupt, greedy, power-hungry men like my father. The type of men, and some women, whose only interest is stepping over everyone else to get to the top.

  Besides, some of the best people I’ve met come from what my father calls ‘the wrong side of the tracks’.

  “JJ, move your fu—oh, you’re up. About fucking time too. Here, get this bacon sarnie down your neck, then we can get your car before I go to work,” she says, handing me a plate and a cup of tea.

  “Cheers. You know it’s Sunday, right?”

  “The dead don’t rest on Sundays, JJ. Anyway, I had a call about a decapitated body washed up on the banks of the Thames this morning, so get eating ‘cause I’ve got to get you dropped off and to the other side of town in thirty minutes.”

  “Shit, Rox! Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” I mumble around a mouthful of food. She stops loading the dishwasher to give me a ‘you’re kidding, right’ look. “Okay, point taken. I can’t help it if I sleep like the dead.” I shove another bite in my mouth before gulping down my tea. With my plate in hand, I shuffle off to the bedroom I slept in last night to get dressed.

  I find a pair of leggings and an oversized off the shoulder jumper Roxy left for me, along with a pair of pumps like my Converse. I find a small holdall in the wardrobe and shove my dress and shoes inside with my clutch but put my phone in my back pocket.

  “So, what’s your next move, JJ? I mean, this guy, Rick, you’re sure it’s the same guy Christian told you about?” Rox asks as she cuts across the junction in front of a white van, earning a loud honk of his horn and few choice words that would bag you a pretty penny in a swear jar. And to think, he kisses his mother with that mouth.

  I rub my hands down my thighs. Just the mere mention of him has my stomach doing somersaults, and not the good kind. “I’m sure, Rox. And I haven’t got a damn clue what to do next.”

  “If you want answers—”

  “I’ll have to see him, I know. I’m just not sure that I can. Not without committing murder, anyway.”

  “Death by orgasm, I like it.”

  “It’s not fucking funny, Rox,” I snap. “Sorry, it’s just…”

  “You liked him, huh. He must be kind of special to melt your iron heart. Either that or he’s Rick with the big dick; a big magic dick.” She lets loose a howl of laughter, and after I give her a slap to the shoulder, I join her. Let’s be honest, she’s not wrong. About the dick at least. As for being special? The only thing special about him right now is he holds all the answers I’ve spent years searching for.

  Twenty-Two

  Rick

  “Did you find her?” I bark down the phone at Ryder.

  “Not a fucking peep. And enough with the snapping, man. We’ll find her.”

  I close my eyes, squeezing the bridge of my nose.

  “I’ll be back in thirty, and then we can go over where else she might have gone. In the meantime, have another coffee and eat something. Maybe you won’t be so hangry when I get back.”

  Before I can reply, the line goes dead. Cheeky fucker.

  I make myself another coffee and call her mobile again, only to be met by the same ‘the person you have called is unavailable’ message.

  When I couldn’t find Jess, I sought out the policewoman that spoke to her. But all she could tell me was that Jess looked shaken up, like she’d had a shock, and mumbled something about how’s this possible before she took off.

  I even had Ryder drop me at her flat, but when I arrived, she wasn’t there. After waiting an hour, I came back to my
flat in London.

  At that point, I didn’t think my evening could get any worse. If only that had been true.

  Realising there was nothing more I could do, I checked the emails I’d received before it all went to shit. One was a detailed report on Jess’ car from my friend Toby, the road traffic investigator, confirming my suspicions about the brakes. Someone had tampered with Jess’ brakes with the intention of causing her to crash.

  I’m not entirely sure I can explain the feeling that tramped through my body at warp speed thinking about Jess being hurt or the synonymous urge to hunt down whoever did it and rip them apart piece by tiny fucking piece.

  It’s a feeling I haven’t had since Kuffs was killed, and I wanted to rain hell down on everyone in that damn building and punish every doctor and nurse that couldn’t save my wife.

  The fact Jess was inducing those same feelings in me knocked me for six. But it did force me to accept I had feelings for Jess. Feelings I had no right to feel, feelings I didn’t deserve.

  The second email was a slap in the face. Blatantly reminding me of my past transgressions. When I saw the anonymous email address, I should have deleted it, but something pushed me to open it. And just as I knew it would, another video of me loaded on the screen, only this time Kuffs was there too.

  The video is almost identical to my dream the other night at Jess’, and the same one I’ve had twice more since I was home.

  I sent it to Dean, but I’m not holding my breath that he’ll get anything from it. The first one was untraceable, so no doubt this new one is the same.

  The man that approached Max at the school hasn’t been seen since either. I’m not sure if he was looking to send his son there, as he claimed, or if Drew’s presence around the school has deterred him. I’ve asked Scott to stay in London for now in case I need him.

  I hear the front door, and two seconds later, Ryder walks into the kitchen. He and Cam stayed here last night, while Jamison stayed with Ryder’s parents.

  “Hey. I checked with the hotel, and her car is still there. She’s got to pick it up at some point. So, you head there, and I’m going to take Cam to my parents’ house and come back.”

  I’m up out of my seat before Ryder even finishes his sentence. Snatching up my phone and keys, I race for the door.

  The car drive to the hotel is a slow kind of torture as my mind fills with unanswered questions. Jess looked like she’d seen a ghost last night when she looked at me before she ran. I don’t understand what could have spooked her so damn much, but I intend to get answers. When I finally find her that is.

  I get stuck behind every Sunday driver possible going at a snail’s pace and every fucking traffic light turns red when I reach it. It’s like the whole world and his wife is against me finding her.

  When I arrive at the hotel, it’s quiet, and there’s police tape cordoning off the front entrance. I don’t stop at the front, instead driving round to the car park.

  Despite the hotel being empty, there are still a significant number of cars parked here. As I round the last car at the end of the first row, a flash of red brake lights catches my eye as they disappear round the corner towards the exit.

  I quickly scan the rest of the cars in this row as I drive by, just to be sure, but I know that was Jess leaving.

  Pulling back out into the street, I spot her a few cars ahead and drop in behind a black Mercedes. I follow her all the way to Soho Square, where she takes a right, and I get stuck at the traffic lights.

  I tap my hand on the steering wheel impatiently, getting more and more forceful the longer I wait for the lights to turn green. I screech off round the corner as soon as it turns amber, narrowly missing the last car from the other direction.

  Not seeing her, I slam my hand against the steering wheel before taking a calming breath and focusing back on looking for her.

  Thankfully, it’s still early with little traffic on the road, except the idiot slow pokes, which allows me to meander my way down the road, checking down each turn off as I go. When I reach the second to last turning, I spot her car parked halfway down on the right. Checking there’s no one behind me, I reverse enough to be able to turn down the road and pull up behind her car.

  Desperate though I am to see her and check she’s okay, I decide to wait for her to come back. I don’t even know which building she went into.

  Pulling my phone free, I message Ryder to let him know I found her. Then I message Seb and check in on work. He tells me that Jay is in London still doing the escort agency job and that neither him nor Dean have had any luck with the email address for the videos I received.

  Needing some fresh air, I exit the car, leaning against the side and scroll through the news app on my phone. The air is crisp and fresh this morning after a heavy downpour last night, and the sun is even attempting to break through the dingy clouds.

  I stop my scrolling when a picture of Jess in that stunning dress she wore last night appears. But it’s not her or the dress that catches my eye and has my lungs squeezed free of air, it’s the headline and the married couple in the picture next to hers.

  Chaos and Scandal at the Collins’ Charity Ball.

  Twenty-Three

  Jess

  I pull up to the building where Lottie and I were taken from, and a lick of fear runs up my spine as memories of that day slip into my mind. Shaking it off, I step from the car and climb the steps to the entrance.

  I take a few minutes to scan the intercom, noting there is no name next to the button for the second floor. The business on the first floor looks to be offering some sort of therapy or advice for people with addiction.

  I reach out to push the button for the first floor, hoping to blag my way in when the door opens. A young girl, late teens, steps out with her head down and wearing a well-worn dark hoodie, which at some point in time used to be black but is now a dull grey, pulled up over her head. Her jeans are ripped and not in the fashionable sense, and the sole of one trainer is flip flopping open at the front.

  Raising her head slightly when she senses me there, I catch a glimpse of her gaunt face, the dark circles under her eyes and sallow skin.

  She holds the door for me, and I step past, thanking her as I go.

  “I wouldn’t go in there if I was you, lady,” she warns, then hurries off down the street before I can ask her what she means. She’s probably high as a kite.

  During my time as a cop, I came across many a girl like her. Living on the street and doing whatever it takes to survive another day. I only hope she gets some help before it’s too late.

  I climb the stairs like last time, as the lift is still out of order. Each step causes a tremor to skitter beneath my skin and more goosebumps to break out. I place my hand inside my bag and wrap my fingers around the small can of pepper spray I keep there. I can’t rid my mind of the awful trauma Lottie suffered at the hands of the men that took us. I wish that I’d been able to finish the job on Raul. Given half the chance, I would have torn the place and everyone in it apart.

  It wouldn’t be the first time I’d taken a life. Sometimes I think about what that makes me, but I can’t afford to worry about it. I just have to remember why I did what I did.

  At the top, I take a deep breath before pushing through the doors.

  My skin prickles with awareness, and the hair on the back of my neck rises as I step into the empty space. Only it’s not empty. There on the far side of the room is Jake Danvers.

  It takes me a couple of seconds for my eyes to communicate to my brain exactly what I’m seeing, but when I do, the feeling isn’t a pleasant one.

  He has his back to me, hands in his pockets, looking out over the square below.

  “Jake?” He turns at the sound of my voice, surprise at seeing me clear on his face.

  “Jess, what are you doing here?” His eyes flick around the room, back and forth over me and then to the door.

  “I was about to ask you the same question.”

  Jake looks at
his watch before looking behind him out the window. “I…umm, I’m meeting somebody here. You can’t be here. Shit! You need to leave. Now!” he says, his voice rising in pitch, and a look of concern etched across his face.

  “What the hell is going on, Jake?” I demand, as he turns back to the window, cursing again and griping his hair in his hands.

  He looks far from the composed and friendly guy I met at the cabins.

  “No, no, no.” Spinning back around to face me, he starts pacing. “Why are you here? What’s your boyfriend doing here? You can’t be here, or you’ll ruin everything.”

  “Boyfriend? What the fuck are you talking about? Jake, what do you mean ruin everything? Tell me,” I implore, as I step toward the window. I stop instantly as Jake pulls a gun out, pointing it right at me.

  “You need to leave, Jess. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. I need this. I need answers, and I need for this to happen. Please, just go.”

  Unarmed, having released the pepper spray when I saw him there, and facing a gun, I don’t have a lot of choice but to listen to him. Keeping my eyes on his, I take a step back towards the door.

  “Okay, Jake, I’m going. So put the gun away, hey.” I hold my hands up, letting him know I’m not a threat. I think he knows that, but whatever is going on has him acting irrationally. My back hits the doors, and I put a hand down slowly, searching blindly behind me for the door handle. Once I get a good grip, I pull it open, making sure to keep my movements nice and steady.

  “I’m sorry, Jess. I didn’t want to get you involved, but it was the only way they would give me what I want. Please don’t think badly of me. I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever is happening, I’m sure we can sort it out. But for now, I’m just going to leave, and when you’re ready you can come and talk to me, yeah?”

  Jake gives a nod of his head, checking his watch again. I slip through the door, and Jake keeps the gun trained on me right until the door closes.