Chapter Twenty-Nine
ARLO
My words echoed in the room as Jack finally stopped moving. He squinted up at me, like he was surprised to see me there. “Arlo?”
Swallowing down bile, I tugged Jack to his feet and over the pool of blood. “I’m here. You’re okay.”
He cupped my face, then frowned. Lifting his hand away, he flinched at the red staining them. “Oh. Fuck.”
Whirling around, he took in what was left of Smith’s face and swayed on the spot. “I killed him.”
“It’s okay,” I said softly, grabbing his hand and tugging him into the kitchen. Shoving him into a kitchen chair, I wet a cloth and used it to clean the blood splattered over his face. “You were protecting me. Don’t feel guilty.”
“Arlo.” He gently touched my wrist, blinking up at me. “I don’t feel guilty. He had a gun and was going to shoot you. He deserved to die. It’s not the first time I’ve killed. Being in the SAS, it kinda went with the territory.”
“Then why did you freak out?”
His gaze was resigned as it flickered to the living room and back. “I killed him, Arlo. I should’ve shown more restraint. I’ll be looking at a murder charge for this. Manslaughter at best.”
My stomach hit the floor. “No. No. It was self-defence.”
Jack’s gaze was weary as it met mine. “I can argue that, but at the end of the day, I’m a highly trained ex-soldier. One who’s more than capable of disarming and restraining an attacker without harming them. The prosecution will have a field day.”
Tears began to burn my eyes as I shook my head at him. “We’ll hide the body. Get rid of all the evidence.”
“Arlo, his DNA is everywhere,” Jack said gently, his voice thick. “His car is outside. CCTV will show him driving in this direction. It wouldn’t take even the lowliest detective to string together the details.”
“You can’t just give up,” I croaked. “I’m not letting them take you from me.”
“I don’t want that either,” he whispered, “but I don’t think we have another choice. I should’ve had more control. I just saw that gun pointed at you and…”
His voice trailed off and I hugged his head to my stomach. “I know, Jack. I would’ve done the same. If the situation was the other way around, I wouldn’t have let him live either.”
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry I’ve fucked it all up.”
“You haven’t,” I said, hope igniting in me as an idea hit. “And I’m not giving up. Not yet, anyway. You’re going to make a call.”
Jack pulled back to stare at me blankly. “What? To who? Who can possibly help us with this?”
“I don’t like this.”
Privately, I agreed, but really, what choice did we have? “River said we can trust him.”
Jack grunted as we watched the handsome man unfold himself from his car. He straightened, surveying the cabin with a slight sneer. “Would’ve preferred it if River had come himself.”
River had been weirdly enthusiastic about helping us out with our dilemma. Jack had taken some convincing to contact him, but I’d managed to persuade him. Neither of us really knew if River and his friends could help, but at this point we were willing to try anything.
River had apologetically explained that he was tied up at the moment, but he had the perfect person to send in his place.
“He’s a bit of a twat,” he’d informed us cheerily. “But he’s very good at what he does.”
The man in question strolled towards us, his face still twisted in a sneer. He was dressed like someone from a bygone decade, in suspenders over a white shirt and shoes so shiny you could use them as a mirror.
“Sebastian,” he said by way of greeting. “I hear you’re in need of some cleanup.”
Jack winced. “Yes. He threatened Arlo, and I—”
“I don’t need to hear the reasons,” Sebastian said dismissively, waving his hand. “I’ve killed men for looking the wrong way at my husband, so no judgement from me.”
My eyes bugged wide. Well okay then.
We led Sebastian into the living room. I looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to see Smith’s body again. What Jack had done to him didn’t bother me. Smith would’ve done far worse if he’d got his hands on me.
That was why I didn’t want to look at him. That was what I didn’t want to be reminded of.
“Can’t anyone kill cleanly these days?” Sebastian sighed, his hands on his hips.
“Sorry.” Jack rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was going to tidy up a bit, but River told me not to.”
Sebastian nodded. “Yes, best to leave this to me. I can do it more efficiently than you.”
There was no arrogance in his tone, just a matter-of-fact assurance that he was right. Given we’d never disposed of a body before, he was likely correct.
Jack winced as he spoke. “Will you…will you be careful with the cabin? It holds a lot of sentimental value for a friend of ours.”
Sebastian huffed. “Please. It’ll look like nothing ever happened.”
He crouched down then, studying what was left of Smith’s face. “What did you use?”
“A baton,” Jack said, gesturing to where he’d dropped it. “And, uh, my fist.”
“Good,” Sebastian said. “Sounds like the cunt deserved it.”
We’d agreed beforehand that I’d stay quiet, but I was practically vibrating with the need to know if this was going to come back and haunt us. “Are you going to help us?”
Sebastian stood, his gaze fixing on me like a hawk. There was a heavy intensity in his gaze that made me want to squirm. “I am.”
“What’s your price?”
Sebastian smirked, and I knew immediately I’d been right to assume there would be one. “A favour.”
My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was for us to be indebted to the Mafia…or whoever these guys were. “I’d rather pay you cash. I have money. Lots of it.”
“As do I,” Sebastian said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you for anything onerous. Just a picture.”
Jack stiffened. “What kind of picture?”
“Calm down. My husband is a massive fan of the band. I don’t do this work very often these days, but when Matty heard who it was for, he insisted I come and help.” His tone softened when he spoke about his husband. “I’d like a selfie for him. Please.”
The final word was tacked on like an afterthought. “Of course.”
“Wait,” Jack barked. “Not in here. I don’t want you having any photographic evidence you might use in future.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Like I’m going to go to the police and tell them I helped clean up the scene and dispose of the body.”
“He has a point.”
Jack ignored us both. “Outside. I don’t want Arlo in here any longer anyway.”
When we stepped into the fresh air, inspiration struck. “Hey, would you rather we video call him?”
Sebastian raised a brow. “You don’t mind?”
I smiled. Dude was literally helping us commit a crime but didn’t think I’d make a call. “It’s fine.”
The golden-haired man who answered our video call was far from what I was expecting.
Matty was the absolute opposite of his grumpy husband.
His warmth and excitement radiated through the screen as he gushed about his love of Caffeine Daydreams. The whole time he talked, he bounced a small toddler on his knee, cooing at him every now and then before returning to the conversation.
By the end of it, I’d found myself offering him backstage passes to whichever show he fancied. He was so lovely that I was tempted to invite him over to dinner, but given I was low-key terrified of his husband, I decided against it.
Eventually, Sebastian huffed impatiently, snatching the phone from my hand. “Sunshine? How’s Geralt? Are his teeth bothering him still?”
I moved over to Jack, leaning into him as we watched Sebastian stride off, still talking to his husband. “Think we can trust him?”
“I do,” Jack said, making me look up at him in surprise.
“He just let you talk to his husband and child for twenty minutes. That’s after making a point of telling us that he’s murdered men just for looking at the guy before.
And look at him now. That’s like a whole different person from the one who turned up earlier. ”
I studied Sebastian, who was listening intently to whatever Matty was telling him. His face was soft as he smiled tenderly at the screen.
“He looks at him the way I look at you,” Jack said, gathering me to his side. “There’s no way he’ll do anything to upset him. Given how big a fan Matty is, I think we’re safe.”
Before I could respond, Sebastian was pocketing his phone and marching back over. The geniality he’d shown Matty was gone now, an almost bored look on his face. “You two can leave now. I’ll take it from here.”
“Are you sure?” Jack asked.
“You’ll just slow me down,” he said over his shoulder, heading for the cabin door. “Don’t worry about any of this. I’ll take care of the body and his death certificate. Mr Smith will have had himself a nasty car accident.”
My jaw dropped. How the fuck was Sebastian going to pull that off?
“Don’t ask questions,” Jack whispered in my ear. “Something tells me he won’t answer. Even if he did, we probably wouldn’t like the response.”
I snapped my jaw shut. That was true. In this case, ignorance was likely bliss.
Three months later
Jack and I sat in the back of my car, Simon driving us through the streets of Southampton.
His hand was tucked in mine, his thumb stroking over mine.
If I’d thought Jack would keep the PDA to a minimum when we got back from the cabin, I’d thought wrong.
If I was in the room, Jack was wrapped around me in one way or another.
My bandmates had teased him incessantly, hoping to get a rise out of him.
But this was Jack. In public, he was the master of stoicism.
In private, it was a face I saw very rarely these days.
Tonight was the eighteenth anniversary of Caffeine Daydreams forming. Nearly two decades since I’d watched three boys through a window and taken a chance.
A chance that had changed the course of my whole life.
“Luca just messaged,” Jack said from next to me. “Paps all over the front of the restaurant. We need to take the rear entrance.”
“Gotcha,” Simon said, flicking the indicator. He was here as my official guard.
Jack was here as my boyfriend.