Redemption: Triple R Security, Book 3 Read online

  “You’ve been distracted all morning. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Nope. I’m happily remaining ignorant to it just now. But thank you.” Eleanor nods before turning away as another customer demands her attention.

  It’s been surprisingly busy considering the chilly temperature. But the sun is shining and is enough to get people out of their houses, particularly for a good cause.

  “I think I might go and have a look round now the rush has died down. Will you be okay here?”

  “Of course, dear. Go and enjoy yourself.”

  I grab my bag and step round the table still laden with cakes despite being swamped with buyers for the last two hours.

  Every year the village holds a fair, and every year, Eleanor bakes cakes to sell with the proceeds going to the neonatal unit at a nearby hospital.

  As I walk through the various stalls, my senses are assaulted with an assortment of aromas. Burgers and fried onions, candy floss and the rich smell of hot chocolate all waft through the air.

  I stop at a homemade jam and marmalade stall, sampling the different flavours before buying a delicious strawberry jam along with a jar of locally produced honey, complete with honeycomb.

  Up ahead there’s a fire engine with around a dozen children crowded round excitedly waiting for the fireman to flash the lights.

  Rounding the last stall on this row, I spot Max, Rick’s son, standing to the side. I don’t see Rick, but I know he’ll be nearby. Keeping my head down, I hurry my pace into the next row where someone slams into my shoulder spilling my coffee all over the front of me. He continues through the crowd without so much as an apology.

  “Yeah, thanks a bunch,” I call out, pulling a tissue from my coat pocket and attempting to wipe myself down. “Arsehole,” I mutter beneath my breath, pulling my scarf from around my neck to use instead when the tissue disintegrates in my hand.

  “Ms Fisher?”

  I look up at the sound of my name. There standing in front of me is the dark-haired hottie from Rick’s team. Seb, if I remember rightly, and alongside him is the medic that attended to Lottie.

  “Uh…hey. Seb, right?”

  “That’s right. And this is Jamie,” he introduces. We give each other a scan and nod to one another. “I thought you lived in London. What brings you here?”

  “I do…I mean, I did. Err…never mind,” I say, waving it off. “I’m just taking some time out away from the hustle and bustle and helping out some friends.” I dab at my coat with the scarf but give up and ball it up, dropping my hand to my side. When I look back up, I catch Seb’s eyes scan over the marks I know are visible on my neck. I try to pull up the collar on my coat, but stop a second later, tensing when I feel him behind me.

  “Hey, man. Look who we bumped into?” Seb says, eyes focused over my head behind me.

  I know I should turn around and face him, show him the other night meant nothing and last night even less, but I can’t.

  I feel Jamie’s eyes on me too and lifting my head, I look at her. There’s a frown on her face, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the clear finger marks on my neck or my obvious reaction to Rick’s arrival. Her eyes bore into mine asking the question, and feeling even more uncomfortable under her scrutiny, I side-step and half-turn so Rick is to the left of me.

  “Hello, Jessica.” The rough timbre of his voice rumbles through me and refusing to let him see the effect he has on me, I force my eyes to meet his.

  “Rick.” I give him a nod. Before I can make my excuses and leave, Max pipes up from beside Rick.

  “You’re that lady that was talking to my grandma yesterday. You had lots of eggs. My dad and I watched you leave. Didn’t we Dad?”

  You can always rely on a kid to drop you in the shit with their unapologetic honesty. Rick tenses beside me, and Seb snort-coughs, trying to hide his laugh. Realising nobody is going to answer, I crouch down to Max’s level.

  “Yes, it was me, and your grandma is a very lovely lady. I was collecting eggs from the farm for my friend who baked cakes for today.”

  “Really? Dad, can we get some cake?” Max asks, tugging his dad’s hand and eyes lighting up with the prospect of eating cake. When Rick doesn’t answer, I raise my head only to be met with a stare full of conflict.

  Sensing the tension between us, Seb cuts in. “Hey, Max, how about me, you and Jamie go and find this cake?”

  Max looks to his dad, who, without taking his eyes off me, gives a gentle nod before releasing his hand. Max jumps the couple of spaces from me to Seb as I stand back up.

  “Nice seeing you again, Ms Fisher,” Seb says, taking Max’s hand.

  “It’s Jess. And good to see you too. Nice meeting you, Jamie, and you as well, Max.” Seb and Jamie walk away with Max between them.

  As soon as they are out of sight, I turn with every intention of walking away in the opposite direction. I don’t make it more than a few steps before I’m grabbed by the arm and hurried through a space between stalls to the other side of a large truck.

  As soon as we are out of sight of the crowd, I yank my arm free.

  “What is your fucking problem, huh? First you fuck me, then run away. Then you come sniffing around in the middle of the night, attack me, and now, you’re behaving like I’m the one in the wrong. Your reception just now was frostier than the Ice Age. So, what gives, Rick? Afraid that Mrs…whatever the fuck your surname is will find out about our—”

  “No, I’m not afraid because she’s dead, Jessica.” The words are spat out slowly and deadly and each one is laced with anger as Rick advances toward me, a predatory look in his eyes.

  “Shit,” I whisper, and I know it’s all kinds of screwed up given what Rick just confessed, but desire unfurls in my belly, licking a path over my body before pooling between my thighs. “I…fuck, I’m sorry. When I saw you with your son, I just assumed—”

  “You of all people should know, nothing should ever be assumed, Jessica. Assumption is a path to destruction.” My back hits the truck behind me, and I have nowhere else to go, but Rick keeps coming. When his body brushes against mine, hands landing either side of my head, he leans his head down, running his nose up my neck to my pulse point and inhaling a deep breath that unleashes a tremor of want, of need, that has goosebumps blooming all over my body. I can’t contain the throaty moan that leaves my lips on a stuttered breath.

  “You torment me. I’m constantly at war with my body’s reaction to you, and I should stay away from you. You should make me stay away from you.” His lips flutter across my skin, nipping at my jaw as he makes his way to my mouth.

  “Maybe I don’t want you to stay away,” I whisper against his lips, his tongue poking out to caress the seam of my mouth. I open for him, and he slips his tongue inside before finally crashing his lips to mine in a fierce kiss.

  My scarf slips from my hand, gliding to the floor, as I submit. I grab the lapels of his coat and pull him closer. He obliges, grinding his hips and causing friction in just the right place, but the spell is broken by the slamming of a door making the truck shake.

  He runs his eyes over me, bringing up a hand to cradle my neck and rubbing his thumb along his own fingerprints. Resting his head against mine, he says, “I’m sorry. I have to go.” And with that he dashes away, disappearing around the truck before I can catch my breath.

  I stand there for several minutes unsure whether I’m more angry or more turned on. One thing I am sure of is that I’m confused and devastated in equal measure.

  Rick was married. I’m not really surprised because, let’s be honest, the man is a walking advert for a lady boner. Knowing he lost his wife explains a lot about his behaviour at least.

  Getting myself together, I pick up my coffee coated scarf from the floor and step out from behind the truck. I continue my walk around the stalls, stopping only to buy some fresh doughnuts. I defy anyone that can walk past that smell and not buy some.

  I don’t see Rick or his friends again, and by the tim
e I make it back to Eleanor, she’s started packing up for the day.

  “Hey. Sorry I was so long,” I say, stepping round the table and placing the doughnuts down before grabbing another cake box.

  “Doughnuts. Why am I not surprised.” Eleanor says with a chuckle.

  When the last box is loaded into Eleanor’s car, she tells me she’ll see me back at the cabins as she has some deliveries to make. We say our goodbyes, and I head to my own car. As I get closer, I notice several pieces of paper tucked under the wipers. Snatching the folded sheets up, which are most likely someone trying to make some fast cash, I climb in, throwing them on the passenger seat before driving away.

  I turn the music up in the car, not because I like the song but more to drown out the chaotic thoughts running rampant in my mind.

  I turn onto a long straight road, opening the engine up as the car behind grows smaller and smaller. Coming to the end of the straight, I lift my foot off the accelerator, slowing down enough to take the bend up ahead. As I round the corner, I accelerate again, but a deer darts from the tree line, halting in the middle of the road. I slam my foot on the brakes, but there’s no resistance. Trying again, I pump the pedal several times, but nothing happens. There’s not enough time to decelerate before hitting the deer, so I do the only thing I can at this point, I swerve. Mounting the grass verge, I steer round a tree, only to crash headfirst into the ditch the other side of it.

  My body lurches as the seatbelt locks into place, and I’m left dangling face first. “Fuck!” I curse feeling pain and tenderness where the belt cut into my neck and collarbone. That’s going to leave some pretty rainbow-coloured bruises.

  Raising my head, I brace an arm on the steering wheel and wedge one foot into the wheel arch and the other on the dash. Once I’m ready, I use my free arm to reach for the seat belt button and push down before quickly placing it on the steering wheel to stop gravity from pulling me forward.

  Everything from the back seat has been flung forward, including the sheets of paper that were under my wipers earlier. One is slapped on the windscreen, and I realise it’s a photo. Climbing onto the centre console, I reach out a shaky hand and snatch it up.

  My eyes widen as I take in the features of the man in the picture. Features I’d know anywhere. Features that I miss every single day and have for the last five years.

  Fourteen

  Jess

  I grab another one; the same picture stares back at me. Another and another, but they’re all the same. My brother, lain on the floor, top bare and covered in blood with eyes wide open and lifeless.

  I scramble over the passenger seat, pulling on the door handle, ignoring the lancing pain that blooms across my chest, and shove it open. I tumble out, hitting the boggy ground on one knee as one foot gets jammed between the car and the door.

  I push up from the ground on shaky arms, fingers squelching in the mud, just as my mouth floods with saliva and vomit rises in the back of my throat. I heave as my doughnuts make an unscheduled reappearance. The earlier delicious smell is now tainted with the vile smell of bile.

  I push up from the ground again, trying to free my foot. After several hard tugs, it finally comes free, and I roll to the right to avoid face-planting into my vomit.

  I catch my breath and then get up, searching my pockets for my phone. Not finding it, I look through the back window for my bag. I spot it in the footwell of the passenger side, just as a car door slams up on the road behind me.

  “Hello. Can you hear me?” calls out a male voice. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine. I’m coming up,” I call back to him, and my voice trembles with a mixture of adrenaline and shock. I climb back in the car far enough that I can hook a finger around the handle of my bag. The pictures of my dead brother strewn inside the car are almost enough to undo me again, but I hold it in. I pull my bag out and gather up all the pieces of paper I can find, shoving them inside my bag before climbing up the side of the ditch back to the road.

  When I emerge from the trees, Jake, the guest that Rocco took a disliking to, is there.

  “Jess? Shit are you okay? I’ll call an ambulance,” he exclaims, pulling his phone from his pocket.

  “No!” I bark. Sighing, I try again with less force. “No, please, I’m fine. I’m not hurt, just in need of a recovery truck, that’s all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. But thank you.” I find my phone, and after searching for a recovery company, make the call.

  Jake waits by his car, while I talk on the phone, and when I’m finished, he offers to give me a lift home.

  Thankfully, they arrive within thirty minutes and within the hour, I’m on my way home while my car is taken to the garage Jake recommended.

  “Thank you,” I tell him as we turn on to the main road to the reserve. “How did you know about the garage?”

  “Oh, err… I’ve stayed up here a few times, and the last time I was here, my car wouldn’t start, so…”

  “I see. Have you stayed at the cabins before then?”

  “No, not there before. How about you?”

  “Have I stayed at the cabins before?” He gives a nod. “Yeah, plenty of times. As I said before, Harry and Eleanor are family friends, so we used to come here as kids. This is the first time in a while, and I’d forgotten how much I love it here,” I say wistfully. The thought brings a flurry of images of Christian and me building a camp in the copse, bug hunting and even fishing with Harry. I feel a smile spread across my face at the happy memories, but they are suddenly replaced with the image of my brother in the pictures I can feel burning in my bag.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Huh, err…yeah, sorry.” I shuffle in my seat, pushing my bag to the footwell away from me. I try to ignore the pounding of my heart and the throbbing pain across my chest by making small talk with Jake. “So, tell me, what is that you do, Jake?” I ask, needing to steer the conversation away from me and anything that reminds me of what’s sitting at my feet.

  “Nothing exciting. I’m a data analyst.” His eyes remain on the road, but I don’t miss the way his hands tighten on the steering wheel or the small tilt of his head. Something tells me there’s more, but I don’t question him. It’s not my business.

  “Exciting,” I say with more than a hint of sarcasm. He laughs, and it’s easy and light.

  “Sorry my job isn’t to your liking. Let’s hear how thrilling your job is then,” he mocks.

  “I’m afraid you’ll be equally disappointed as I’m in between jobs right now.” He turns to look at me, raising his brows. “What?” I say with a shrug and a smirk lifting my lips.

  “Come on, that’s not an answer. ‘I’m in between jobs’ is lame even by my standards.”

  “Okay, fine, but don’t go getting all bent out of shape when I tell you,” I snigger. “I’m a CPO, Close Protection Officer.”

  His head snaps to me, no doubt to see if I’m telling the truth, which I am, then he laughs. A deep, roaring laugh that brings a smile to my face. As his laughter subsides, I see him trail his eyes over my body. Assessing me and surely judging my strength and physique.

  “Well, colour me surprised. Not going to lie and say I was expecting that because—”

  “Because I’m a woman, huh? Nice,” I cut in with a snort of displeasure.

  “What? Hell no, not what I meant at all.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “Look, I’m sorry if that’s what you thought. But… God, anything I say is going to sound sexist or condescending now.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Jake. I’ve spent my whole career working with men who can’t deal with a woman doing a ‘man’s’ job.” I tell him honestly, and I watch as he shakes his head at my words.

  “That says much more about them, Jess,” he states, turning into the gate of the cabins and pulling up outside the main house. He hesitates before turning in his seat to face me, and I know what the next words out of his mouth are going to be.

  “I w
as wondering—”

  “Jake, you’re a great guy, but—” Now it’s his turn to interrupt me.

  “Say no more. It’s probably for the best anyway.” He turns his head away, hiding the sting of rejection that nobody ever wants to feel. “Can we just forget this part of the conversation ever happened?”

  “Sure,” I say, offering him a smile. His returning one isn’t convincing, but he doesn’t dwell on it, exiting the car and coming round to open my door.

  “I hope he appreciates what he’s got,” he says as I gingerly climb from the car. Now the adrenaline is wearing off, every little ache and pain is slamming into me.

  “Who?” I ask, reaching back in to grab my bag with a wince. As I retreat, my eyes land on steely green ones currently burning up the side of Jake’s head as he stands holding the door open.

  “A friend of yours I take it?” Jake is just as focused on Rick, sizing up his competition.

  “Something like that.” Ignoring the death stare and the threat of violence coming from where Rick stands outside the house, I thank Jake for helping me. I watch as he climbs back into his car and drives off in the direction of the car park.

  Once out of sight, I spin on my heels, coming up short as I come face to face Rick, who is no longer standing by the house but directly behind me.

  “Fucking hell, Rick,” I exclaim, taking a step back out of reach of his enticing, spicy scent. I look up at him waiting for him to explain himself. When he doesn’t, I step past him, heading for my cabin.

  I make it halfway across the site before I hear him coming up fast behind me. I quicken my own pace, passing the tree line before a hand on my arm, yanks and spins me round.

  I give a girlie yelp at the rough tug on my right arm, which pulls at my aching chest.

  “Shit! What the fuck happened to you? Where’s your car?” He loosens his grip on my arm but doesn’t let me go completely. Concern lines his face but doesn’t deter him as he asks, “Who’s the guy?” It takes a second for my fraught mind to catch up.