Chapter Twenty-Eight
JACK
It took ninety minutes for Arlo to work me up into a frenzy. We called a draw, and then he fucked me while I bent over the back of the sofa.
Really, we both won.
We spent the next two days in a comfortable cycle where we alternated between catching up on time lost, making each other come, and just holding each other.
I hadn’t forgotten the reason we were here though. Even with Arlo buried inside me or the other way around, it was always lingering at the back of my mind. There was a psycho out there just biding his time. Waiting for his opening to take Arlo from me.
It wasn’t happening. Not while I had breath in my lungs.
Every few hours, I’d sweep the woods outside the property. Check the alarms were working. Survey the camera footage to make sure nothing bigger than a bird had come within half a mile of the cabin.
There was nothing, but that didn’t settle the unease in my gut. An unease that I knew wouldn’t go away until this fucker was behind bars.
I’d even brought up River’s contact on my phone a few times, wondering if I should take him up on his offer. But could I really trust the guy? And did I want Smith’s death on my conscience?
It wouldn’t have been the first time someone had died because of me, but it would be the first time it’d happened off of a battlefield. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
No, it was better to let this play out the way we’d planned. We were in a remote location, Phoenix were monitoring Smith’s property and the police were issuing warrants to find evidence. It was just a manner of running out the clock.
I didn’t let Arlo see any of my concerns, not wanting to stress him out even more. I knew he was feeling it too though. Every now and then I’d see him lifting the curtains, peering out into the woods with fear glimmering in his eyes.
When that happened, I’d take him to bed. Try to make him forget that someone out there wanted to hurt him. To reassure him that he was mine, and I would never let that happen.
Every few hours, Corey or one of the others would check in. Each phone call held the same information—Smith hadn’t left his property, but they were continuing to monitor him.
When my phone lit up on our fourth day there, I expected more of the same. But as soon as Corey said my name, I knew this one was different.
“Jack, there’s a problem.”
A chill went down my spine. Arlo stiffened in my lap and looked at me questioningly.
I held him tight, promising him with my lips on his neck that he had no reason to be afraid. “Tell me.”
“Smith must’ve spotted the van,” he ground out. “Called the fucking police on us. They’ve told us to move on or they’ll charge us with harassment.”
“How’d he even spot you?”
“He has surveillance that rivals the stuff on the cabin. The police told us he has photographs from each day we’ve been here. Looks like he was just building enough evidence to get the police to act.”
“Fucker. So no one’s watching him right now?”
“No,” Corey said grimly. “The coppers accompanied us back to the office and lectured the three of us for two fucking hours. We’re working on getting some satellite feeds going now, and Will is locating a less conspicuous vehicle.
We’ll have eyes on him again in the next thirty minutes, but I think we might be too late. ”
“He’ll already be on the move.” I was on my feet, striding over to the table and opening my laptop. “If he’s on his way here, he could be over halfway by now.”
“Oh, I imagine he’s definitely hunting, but I don’t think we need to be overly worried. There’s no way for him to know where you are.”
“That’s true.” I blew out a breath. “What should we do? Move to another location?”
Arlo’s eyes grew wide as he shook his head. Corey echoed his sentiment over the line. “No. You’re in a secure place. Even if by some miracle he is on his way there, he won’t be able to approach without alerting you. I assume you can take care of him if he does turn up?”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. Have you seen the fucker? I could knock him down with a flick of my finger.”
Arlo was biting his lip, watching me uncertainly. Like he wanted to believe me but was too afraid to.
Corey, once again, seemed to be on the same page. “Just watch your back, Jack. I think he’s smarter and more dangerous than any of us thought.”
No amount of reassurance could make Arlo relax. He alternated between rocking on the sofa with his head in his hands, to tapping out an incessant beat on the coffee table.
I should’ve remembered to grab his practice pads. In all the chaos, I hadn’t thought of it. If we were going to be here much longer, I’d ask Corey to bring them with the next round of supplies.
Knowing there was no way to snap Arlo out of it before he was ready, I fetched him his Tizer and sour Haribo from the kitchen.
Putting them on the coffee table, I sat on the floor with my back against the sofa.
Our years of history meant I knew what to do—make sure he had snacks and drinks, and stay close to him.
Normally I’d try and remove the root of his stress, but as that was out of my hands, I’d do the next best thing.
Keep a close eye on all our surveillance and pray that the plan in my head wouldn’t be needed.
It was a four-and-a-half-hour drive from Southampton. If Smith somehow knew where we were and had left immediately after Phoenix had been escorted away, he’d be approaching the cabin any minute now.
Arlo had stopped drumming, staring off into space, his face ashen.
“Hey,” I said, nudging his leg until he looked down at me. “It’s gonna be okay, Arlo. I promise.”
“How do you know?” His voice was raspy after sitting in silence for so long. “He managed to get around all the guards before. What if he does it again?”
“He didn’t get around me though,” I reminded him, lifting his hand and kissing his palm. “Besides, how would he even know where we are? This is all just a precaution. The chances of him finding us are so slim that—”
My words faded away as my computer beeped. The proximity alarm at the start of the lane had been triggered.
Thirty seconds later, the next one alerted.
Then the next.
Moving automatically, I pulled up the camera feed that covered the drive up to the cabin. I didn’t need to zoom to know it was Smith.
Fuck. Fuck. How had he found us?
“Oh my god.”
Arlo’s quiet whimper had my brain snapping into work mode. This was okay. I’d done this a hundred times before. I’d protected politicians in the middle of fucking war zones—people I didn’t really care about, but I kept them safe because it was my job.
Keeping Arlo safe was my purpose. This fucker wouldn’t be getting within ten feet of him.
I debated tapping out an SOS to Phoenix, but decided not to. They were over four hours away. My time would be better used securing Arlo and readying myself for Smith’s arrival.
Leaving my screen open so I could track Smith’s progress, I got to my feet and pulled Arlo up. “Okay, Arlo, this is happening, and I need you to stay calm.”
“Stay calm?” he spluttered. He was deathly pale still, shaking all over. “He’s here, Jack. What if he hurts you? I can’t risk you, Jack. I won’t.”
I grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed until he met my gaze. The desolation there had me wanting to meet Smith face to face, just so I could rip him to shreds for putting that look in Arlo’s eyes.
“Smith won’t hurt me,” I said calmly, stroking the skin on his neck with my thumb. “And he’s not going to hurt you, got it? We have about ninety seconds until he reaches the cabin. You’re going to take your phone and hide in the space behind the bookshelf.”
“No, I’m not leaving you—”
“You are,” I said firmly, squeezing his neck again. “I can handle Smith. What I can’t handle is having you in his sights. You’re going to hide in that cabinet, and not come out until I say. Understood?”
Arlo looked like he was going to argue, but eventually nodded. “Okay.”
On our first full day, I’d shown Arlo exactly how to access the space Corey had told us about. Even so, I led him there again, opening the bookcase and handing him his phone. “Make sure it’s on silent. No torch either.”
Arlo fidgeted with the phone. “It’s so small.”
I hid my wince. He wasn’t wrong there—it was barely big enough to hold his frame.
There was no way I’d be able to fit in there.
Unlike Luca, Arlo wasn’t particularly claustrophobic, but I didn’t imagine anyone would be comfortable in that space.
Especially in complete darkness and knowing there was a man outside who wanted to kill you.
Regardless, he was going to have to. I wasn’t risking Smith so much as laying eyes on Arlo.
The clock was ticking down. Already I could hear an engine rumbling in the distance.
“You can do this, baby. I promise I’ll get this dealt with quickly.
You’ll be out of there before you’ll know it and we can get back to reality. ”
Arlo gave a clipped nod before putting his first foot into the hole. Before stepping in completely, he stopped and looked back at me. “I love you, Jack. Don’t get hurt.”
My heart cracked at the fear on his face. “I won’t. And I love you too. More than anything.”
I waited until he was seated in the space before giving him a final encouraging smile.
The instant the door was closed on him, securing him inside, the smile dropped from my face. I let the rage that had been pulsing beneath my skin for the past two hours finally surface.
It was time to end this, once and for all.
Grabbing my baton from my work bag, I slid out of the back door, wanting to catch Smith unaware.
It wasn’t the best weapon, but I didn’t have my conceal and carry licence through yet.
It wasn’t something we’d needed as the security detail for the band, but now we were running Phoenix, we’d decided it might be best to have all available options.
Although I very much approved of how difficult it was to get permission to carry a gun, right now I couldn’t help but be annoyed at how long it took.
It wasn’t like the States where you could pop to Walmart and pick one up, which was good.
Getting hold of one here was challenging, hence why I was walking into this situation with nothing more than a blunt object.
It’s okay, I reassured myself as I made my way around the cabin on silent feet. I’d killed men with nothing but my bare hands before. It wouldn’t take more than that to disarm Smith.
My eyes narrowed as I rounded the front of the cabin to see Smith’s empty car there. Fuck. He moved fast for a dying man.
The front door was open, Smith’s taunting voice carrying easily outside.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he was singing. His footsteps clipped over the wooden floor as he undoubtedly searched for Arlo. “I know you’re here, Arlo. You can’t hide forever.”
He didn’t need to hide forever, just long enough for me to put Smith out of action.
I crept up behind Smith, my heart leaping into my throat as I spied the object in his hands.
That was no beer bottle. Somehow, he’d managed to get hold of an actual gun. Eyeing it, I recognised it as a Webley revolver from WW2. Probably a family heirloom that they ‘forgot’ to hand back after the gun law change in the nineties.
Not only was Smith holding a loaded weapon, he was also sweeping it over the room in great arcs. He passed over the space where Arlo was hidden several times, his shaky finger on the trigger.
It complicated things, but not by much. I’d just have to strike when his gun was pointing far away from Arlo’s hiding place.
Then Smith did something completely unexpected.
“Are you not going to come out even to save your precious Jack?”
I froze, my gaze darting to the bookshelf. Don’t you fucking dare, Arlo.
My breathing eased as it remained closed. I took another step closer to Smith. He was almost within reach now. I just needed to…
“Such a shame,” Smith drawled, still sweeping the gun in a maniacal rhythm. “I guess I’ll just have to blow his brains out. You should see how much he’s sweating, Arlo. He knows you won’t save him, just as well as I do.”
I frowned. What the fuck was he on about? He didn’t even know I was creeping up behind him.
Then the worst happened.
The bookcase started to creak.
Smith crowed in triumph, fixing his gun on where a gap was steadily increasing. “Ha! I knew that fucker would always be your downfa—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish.
I slammed my body into his side, sending him flying. A gunshot ricocheted through the air, but thankfully too late to have hit Arlo.
Grabbing his wrist, I crunched down on the bone until he was forced to let go of the gun. His sunken eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opening like he was about to speak.
No words came, my baton finding it’s home there before he could utter a sound.
I slipped into a dark place. One where nothing existed except for my baton and fist smashing into Smith’s face over and over again.
I couldn’t even see him anymore.
All I could see was Arlo. The different emotions Smith had put on his face.
Terror. Despair. Resignation.
He’d tried to hurt him. Wanted to do much worse.
“Jack, stop.”
In the distance there was a voice. One I knew. One I loved.
It wasn’t enough to pierce the haze. My arms were aching now, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
Then calloused fingers were gripping my face. “Jack, stop! He’s dead. He’s dead.”