FIVE
Gigi
“Thank you,” I tell the barrister as I pick up my coffee.
There’s something quintessentially British about Neil’s Bakery. The one in Surrey is my favourite, so I thank my lucky stars every day it’s within walking distance of Greg’s home.
Welcoming the bitter taste of coffee on my tongue, I practically salivate. It’s a pleasant distraction from the burden weighing heavily on my mind.
Mia and I take a leisurely stroll through town, making use of the spare day before work catches up with the two of us. My attention strays to a large boarded-up jewellery store and my frown deepens. I’m starting to lose count of the suspicious activities that have been going on in the neighbourhood recently. London, sure, but no less than an hour’s commute from the city, Surrey seems like a peculiar target.
“… case has gone cold.”
I turn to Mia, suddenly aware I wasn’t paying attention. “Did you say something?”
She gives me a look – one that says, You definitely weren’t listening.
“I wasn’t able to pull any more information about the break-in at your house. It seems the case has gone cold.”
“Oh … right. ”
My mind has completely drifted from the break-in lately. It’s also the first time in my life that Jack hasn’t been at the forefront of my brain. The more I think about it, it’s been this way since Harry walked into my life. He’s been taking over every spare thought, and his presence alone is stronger than anything I felt with the intruder. To make matters worse, the thought of murdering my own mother is having a rather damning effect.
“I imagined stabbing my mum,” I tell Mia, hoping the confession will ease the weight on my shoulders.
She shrugs, seemingly unfazed. “Don’t we all at times?”
“I’m being serious,” I stress.
“So am I,” she assures me. “It’s not a crime to have a thought. Just don’t start saying that sort of thing too loud.”
Deciding I need a distraction, I turn to her and ask, “I was wondering … did you ever dig up anything on Harry?”
She shakes her head, taking a sip of her drink. “Nope. Record was squeaky-clean.”
“Are you sure?” I make eye contact with her. “Guys like him are practically asking for trouble. I told you the night I first saw him he was covered in blood, right? That’s not the kind of person who has a clean record.”
My mind is busy with possibilities as we walk the remaining distance to Greg’s house. He’s busy at work for the day, so I doubt we’ll see him until the evening. Mia and I take a seat on the modest brown leather sofa across from his outdated television set.
“Don’t you get it? The most dirt I found was a speeding fine,” she says, placing her coffee down. “The only plausible explanation is he’s involved with people who have the ability to wipe his record clean – especially if he didn’t want a hospital knowing about a wound that significant.”
I sit back for a moment, debating the idea. It’s plausible, sure. My eyes are firm in disgust, but the relaxed posture of my shoulders portrays my true feelings …
I’m intrigued.
“That’s if he even gets caught for a crime. A crime we don’t even know he’s committed,” I clarify.
“I reckon that man has some dark secrets no matter what the record says.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
She shakes her head. “What did you say he does for a living?”
“He’s a photographer, according to Greg.”
“Something just doesn’t match up …” She’s silent until a plan forms in her mind. “You can be our guinea pig! Get close to him and find out what he’s hiding underneath all that rough, bad-boy exterior.”
I shake my head even though the idea intrigues me more than I’d like to admit. Yet when I remind myself of all the reasons I’m supposed to despise this guy, I feel nothing short of a fool.
“You’re mad.” I chuckle, tossing my empty coffee cup in the bin beside the sofa. “How do you even know this sort of stuff? Surely, it’s illegal just to look up someone’s record.”
She shrugs her shoulders, hiding a smirk. “I have a guy.”
The lock turns, and muttered chatter echoes through the front door. Harry has brought a friend.
“Speak of the devil …” I mumble under my breath.
When I turn to Mia, her eyes light up in amusement, and it suddenly dawns on me that she hasn’t had the pleasure of his company yet.
“Fresh meat!” she hisses.
“Mia! Stop.”
I can’t grab her fast enough before she’s skidding towards the front door. She charges into the kitchen as I try to grab her, but she slips free. With impressive speed, she pulls her composure together and leans against the doorframe.
“Hey!” she says as the two men walk in .
As if my eyes can’t help themselves, they’re pulled towards Harry immediately. He’s dressed in all-black – black jeans and a long-sleeve black T-shirt with the sleeves pushed up to the forearms.
Their conversation comes to a halt as they turn to the two of us. I conceal the sting when Harry tears his gaze away from me, a strange look crossing his eyes.
His friend is of similar height. They have pretty much the same body shape – muscular, broad, and bloody attractive – yet there’s a dissimilarity all the while. The friend’s posture is more relaxed, with dirty-blond hair framing onyx eyes. And I watch the moment they sparkle with intrigue as he spots Mia.
The man steps forwards, introducing himself. “I’m Andy.”
“I’m Mia, and that’s Gigi,” she tosses over her shoulder. When her gaze shifts to Harry, she cocks her head. “And what do I call you, stranger?”
He lifts his head, laughing softly. “Harry … You can call me Harry.”
“If the two of you are free Saturday night, we’re heading out for a few drinks,” Mia says, surprising me.
“We are?” I ask, and she shoots daggers over her shoulder, signalling for me to be quiet.
I shake my head instantly.
Nope.
No way.
Bad idea.
“It’s about time we got to know the man Greg’s been hiding his whole life,” she adds tauntingly. “Dig up all those secrets. I imagine you must have plenty.”
“Mia,” I hiss under my breath.
“I’m up for it.” Andy shrugs. “What do you say, Harry?”
I turn my attention towards him, taken aback when I see his eyes boring into mine. Silence fills the room, and when I expect him to say nothing at all, he says the last thing I could anticipate .
“Will your boyfriend be going?”
Mia laughs so loud it’s borderline hysterical. All eyes turn to her as she bends over in a fit of laughter, clutching her stomach and trying to regain composure.
“Boyfriend?” she cackles. “Hell no. Shagging him now and then, sure—”
“Mia!”
Andy thankfully saves us from the embarrassment of silence. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” He slaps Harry on the back, but the discomfort is evident in his eyes. “We’ll be there.”
“Great!” Mia cheers.
Not great.
Not great whatsoever.
This could possibly be the least great idea she’s ever come up with – and trust me, she’s had several.