26. Jax
Chapter 26
Jax
I woke late, Helen’s side of the bed was not only empty but cold, telling me she’d been gone a while. I glanced at my watch, noticing it was after 10 am, which was probably the latest I’d ever slept. Pulling back the covers, I cursed, realising I was still naked, and then the panic kicked in.
Did Helen leave because she saw me like this?
My chest grew tight as I struggled to force air into my lungs, my hand pressing over my heart as if I was trying to help it keep beating despite the lack of oxygen getting to it.
I noticed my underwear still on the floor, pulling them on so my self-hatred wouldn’t spiral any further than it had already.
Closing my eyes, I counted my breath in and out, trying to make my shallow rasps longer. Just then, the front door slammed downstairs before Helen yelled, “Fucking lying wanker,” and the bottom fell out of my world.
“I can explain,” I said as I rushed into the kitchen, having pulled on yesterday’s joggers and t-shirt.
“What?” She looked up, anger etched into her expression. “Don’t tell me you’re lying to me as well. I don’t think I could cope.” Her face softened. “Sorry, it’s been a hell of a morning.”
“I just woke up. I felt terrible that I didn’t hear you leave. That’s all I was going to say.” I hoped she couldn’t see the guilt written across my face.
Helen turned to fill the kettle before leaning back against the counter while it boiled. “If it was after twelve, I would be making this a glass of wine.”
“That bad?” I asked as I moved to get some mugs out of the cupboard.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She tipped her head back to look up at the ceiling. “Motherfucking asshole,” she whispered, as if she was talking to the heavens.
“Who?” I questioned, confused as I made her a tea while she looked like she was about to break down in tears or explode in anger.
She didn’t answer, and I still couldn’t shake the fear that her mood was aimed at me.
“Me?” I asked as I handed her the mug that she put straight down on the counter, her hands shaking.
“No. Thomas. Motherfucking asshole.”
I buried my hand in the back of her hair, trying to ground her as nothing she said was making any sense. “Your boss? Your friend is a motherfucking asshole? The man who just died in a car crash?”
Her brows furrowed, and tears welled in her eyes. “Yes. Maybe. No. I don’t know. God, I think I’m losing my mind.”
Stroking my thumb over her jaw, I tried to soothe her, knowing she’d been through a lot. “Do you want to start at the beginning, beautiful?”
Suddenly, my shitty problems didn’t seem important because Helen was in pain and I wanted to help. I picked up her tea and pointed to the sofa. She wiped the tears from her cheeks as she moved to sit, but as soon as her backside hit the seat, she popped back up to standing.
“I can’t sit,” she declared as she began pacing. Dressed in some dark blue cropped jeans and a rust-coloured v-neck baggy jumper, her hair was pulled back from her face and I could see every emotion that appeared in her expression as she thought through whatever was going through her head.
“Helen… I can’t read your mind, so you’re going to have to tell me. You’re upset with Thomas for dying? It’s a common reaction.”
Helen’s jaw tensed as she wrung her hands together, still pacing.
“I don’t know if I can say it out loud. It’s madness. And I can’t tell anyone because, what if it’s not true, and I’m getting everyone’s hopes up? Or what if it is true, but it’s for a good reason and I put people in danger?” Her words tumbled like an avalanche from her lips.
“Helen…”
“Okay, I can’t talk about what I do or what Thomas does, but I need to say this out loud, so I’m trusting you to not tell another living soul. A lot of people could get really hurt if you do.”
I made a cross sign over my heart. “I promise. You talk and I’ll pretend I’ve not heard any of it.”
Her shoulders slumped as if I’d just shared the weight she was carrying.
“Thomas was acting weird before he left for Ireland. He had me book him onto a commercial flight, despite him having a private jet, and I booked him a two-seater sports car. Thomas had a driver and always took a bigger car—an SUV or something like that… usually bulletproof. Not something that would fall off a cliff very easily.”
She came and sat next to me and even though I wanted to reach out and touch her, I kept my hands to myself because I sensed she wanted space.
“Helen, any car can lose control in the rain. I don’t think the outcome would have been different if he’d been in something bigger. And the plane thing was probably just a coincidence.”
She let out a small laugh. “If you knew Thomas, you’d know there were never any coincidences with him.”
“Okay, but I guess there’s more to this.”
“I think I need to rewind a bit to make this make sense. Thomas has been in love for years. With his much younger, dead best friend’s daughter. God, he’d never admit it, but, well, I know him. I worked next to him every day for years. I know every flicker of his eyes, every tut. I know his mood by how he walks into the office and how many times a day he jokes about firing me. I think that’s why I’ve worked this out and no one else has.”
She shook her head and continued, “He lost touch with this woman years ago, but his friend had a heart attack recently and Melissa—the best friend’s daughter—was one of his doctors. He told me how they spent the weekend together, and now he had her in his life, he’d burn down the world before he let anyone take her from him again.”
Silence fell between us.
“Before he left for Ireland, he told me that he had to go away to burn down the world… he used those exact words and then he told me not to forget who he was.”
I wanted to understand, but she wasn’t making any sense.
She turned to me, letting out a massive sigh. “I’m sure that’s what he said, but I’ve gone over it so many times I think I’m losing my mind. But then there was the note.”
“The note,” I repeated.
“Thomas didn’t come into the office yesterday, which is weird as well because his flight wasn’t until late afternoon. Anyway, I found a note he’d left me in a file he knew I’d need while he was away. It said ‘Don’t fall apart. I’m counting on you’.”
“And he left that note for you?”
“Well, I mean, it wasn’t addressed to me and it didn’t have his name on it, but no one else looks at the files but me and him. They’re all confidential.”
“Could he have written it for himself?”
She shook her head. “Thomas was not the affirmation, writing inspirational notes for himself type of guy.”
“Right, so you have something he said, something he wrote, a weird flight and a sports car.”
“Exactly.”
“But what do you think it means? Why is he a liar?” I tried to keep my voice level because I didn’t want to upset her, but I was worried about how on edge she seemed.
She chewed her lip and stared at where her hands rested in her lap. “I called Red this morning to tell her how sorry I was.”
“Red?”
“She runs a charity from Thomas’ building. She has the office next door to his. They’re best friends. She was so upset about Thomas but even more so because apparently, he and Melissa got engaged. He left her this romantic note and a ring telling her to wear it while he was away in Ireland, not to take it off, and that he wanted to ask her properly when he got home.”
“Romantic,” I offered, not sure what she was implying.
“He met with a man who specializes in surveillance the day before he left.”
Not sure what else to do, I took her hand in mine.
“I think Thomas has done something really stupid,” she whispered.
“Helen, he died,” I replied softly.
“No, I don’t think he did. I think he wants us to believe he did, but I think he pushed that car off the cliff and he put a tracker in his girlfriend’s engagement ring that he left for her before he ‘died’ so he could keep an eye on her while he does something stupid because he thinks someone is trying to hurt her.”
“Helen,” I gasped, because that seemed so unlikely. It sounded more like a movie script than real life.
“Thomas Lanton can’t have been killed by the weather. That man has fought monsters, put himself in danger more times than I can count, been shot at, threatened. I mean, he’s ex-SAS. He’s fought wars. I can’t believe the rain killed him.” She burst into tears. “Am I clutching at straws? How likely is it that he’s faked all of this for a bigger reason?”
I pulled her into a hug, holding her tight. “Faking your death so that firefighters or the police think you’re actually dead… that would take a lot, beautiful. Is he really capable of that?”
She looked up at me, laughing quietly. “I wish you could have got to know him. The man was terrifying when he needed to be, but God, the things he’d do to protect the people he cared about… there was nothing he wouldn’t do. He would have gone to the ends of the world if one of his team got hurt or if someone he loved needed his help.” Her words turned to sobs. “Why am I talking about him like he’s past tense? Like he’s really gone?”
“Maybe deep down, you know the truth.”
She stood up, wiping her face on the sleeves of her jumper. “Maybe, but I need to make sure Melissa is safe. I’d never forgive myself.”
Walking to the kitchen, she took her phone out of her purse and made a call. “Hey, it’s me. Did you find anything?” The person on the other end must answer her as she went quiet. “No, none of it makes sense to me either, but look, I think Melissa’s in danger. I can’t explain why over the phone, but can you put extra eyes on her? Tell me who and I can sort it this end.” She listened again. “Thanks, Sean.”
She hung up and glanced over at me. “If we’re doing this… us… I should probably tell you a bit more about my job.”