Chapter 3

Three

Fletch

L una gently rocks Ivy in her arms, and I allow my eyes to run down her body, remembering how those tanned legs looked wrapped around me. I give my head a shake, and she glances up. "So, is it a real date or just fake?"

I take a sip of my whiskey. "Fake. Why the fuck would I want to date a copper?"

"You're dressed smart," she remarks, smirking.

I glance down at the plain black T-shirt that clings to my toned chest. It's one of many I own, but they're always hidden under my kutte, which for one night only, I've hung up at Grizz's command. I don't want to draw extra attention to Gemma and spook her before I've had a chance to work my magic. "I need her to take me seriously."

"Sure," she says, winking. "And there's not a small part of you hoping to get laid."

I laugh. "Been there, done that, and if I remember right, she wasn't that great." It's a lie I've told myself to stop me wanting her. Cos since she strolled into The Bar last night, she's all I've thought about.

"Shouldn't you be dating a pig right about now?" snaps Grizz as he crosses the room towards us, wrapping his arm protectively around Luna. She smiles up at him with complete love, and I want to smack him upside the head for thinking she'd ever look in my direction when she's completely smitten with him.

I push to stand. "Just on my way, VP."

Miller's Barn is in a quieter part of town, and when I step inside, I spot Gemma seated towards the back nursing a glass of lemonade. I roll my eyes and head for the bar to order two whiskeys.

When I sit down and place one of them in front of her, she startles. "Hey," I say, smiling and nodding at the drink. "Peace offering?"

"I don't . . . I'm not drinking."

"You used to love a whiskey," I point out, sipping my own.

"Used to," she mutters, staring into her lemonade.

"It's been a while, Snap."

She sighs, tipping her head to one side and bringing her eyes to meet my own. "Stop calling me that. And it's been fourteen years."

"Jesus," I say, releasing a long breath, "no wonder I didn't recognise you."

"I haven't changed that much," she mumbles, swirling her drink in the tumbler.

"Oh, you have, Snap, so much."

"You're right," she agrees. "I'm an adult now, and I don't take crap or fall for bullshit lines. Now, get to the point. Why did you want to meet?"

I lean back and frown. "Still so feisty."

"Because if you thought you could sweet talk me into laying off your club, you're wrong."

I hold my hands up in surrender. "There's no ulterior motive here, Gem. Just an old friend wanting to catch up."

"There's always an ulterior motive with you, Fletch." She snatches up the whiskey and takes a drink, wincing before placing it back on the table.

"So, you're getting married? When, and who's the lucky fella?"

"I'm not feeding you information on me," she snaps.

I roll my eyes. "Jesus, you're still paranoid, aren't yah?"

She scowls. "I was right to be paranoid all those years ago, wasn't I?"

"You accused me so much that in the end I thought I may as well do it if I was gonna get blamed anyway."

She shakes her head in disappointment and pushes to stand. "This was a bad idea."

I groan, grabbing her wrist. "Wait. Sorry. Please don't go." She hesitates but slowly lowers to sit again. "I was a prick back then. I treated you like shit and . . . well, I don't have an excuse, just that I was young and stupid. I'm sorry I treated you like that, Gemma. I truly am."

She visibly swallows and gives a slight nod to acknowledge my apology. "Never thought I'd hear an apology slip from the lips of the great Cam Fletcher," she mutters, taking another sip of the whiskey.

"Thought you weren't drinking," I say, tipping my glass to hers and lightly tapping it. "Here's to forgiveness?"

She scoffs. "Here's to a long overdue apology. Forgiveness has to be earned."

"Is that an offer for me to try?"

"So, you're not married. How come?" she asks, changing the subject.

"Guess I never found the right one," I tell her, shrugging. "Besides, who wants to get involved with guys like me?"

"Are you referring to the biker part or criminal?"

"Are they separate?" I ask, and she presses her lips into a fine line in that way cops do when they're avoiding talking so you'll feel uncomfortable enough to keep talking and maybe slip up. "I did my time, Gemma. These days, I'm running in cleaner circles."

"With The Chaos Demons?" she asks, her tone mocking. "Please, don't feed me your bullshit, Cam. We're not on a first date, and you can't blind me with lies."

"It's Fletch," I tell her, "and if you're so sure about us, how come I'm not in the cells right now?"

"You knew we were coming," she replies cooly. "That's why there was a gap in the fence, and why we got in on the first hit on what was supposed to be an enforced door. We were guided to that entrance, and it's why the club was clear of anything."

I rest my elbows on the table and fix her with a confident stare. "I don't know what you expected to find, officer, but as I've already said, I run in clean circles these days."

"I'm getting married in a few months," she admits, leaning back and breaking the tension that was beginning to build. "We opted for a winter wedding at the castle."

"Cliché," I reply, draining my drink.

"He's amazing," she coos. "Good job, stable, the perfect man."

I grin. "Sounds it."

"He's a surgeon, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't."

"And he doesn't give my friends a second look. I can trust him around them."

"Good for you."

"Do you have contact with her?" she asks, suddenly looking less confident.

I shake my head, knowing instantly she's referring to Kate, the woman I fucked behind her back. "We weren't a thing." She rolls her eyes. "Seriously," I reassure her, "we weren't a thing. It was a one-off, which I came to regret."

"Sure."

"Do you still see her?"

"Sometimes," she admits. "She's related to my fiancé."

"Oh," I say, surprised. "Weird."

"Not really. I was friends with Kate for a long time, and when everything happened with you and her, Pete was there for me."

"Pete?" I repeat, racking my brain to fit a face to that name. My eyes widen. "Her brother?"

"Half-brother," she corrects.

"He was a wanker," I point out.

"He just never liked you. Can't say I blame him."

I grin. "Pete's a surgeon? Wow. Who did he screw to get there?"

She narrows her eyes. "Actually, he's a damn good one and he worked his backside off to get there."

I'm amused and I can't hide it. Back then, she couldn't stand Pete. He was arrogant and self-assured. He'd always put both girls down, especially Gemma. "Did you tell him about me and Kate?"

"Of course. He didn't speak to her for years."

"What a hero."

"Because he respected me," she hisses, "and was disgusted she'd do that to her best friend."

"So, you and he got together after that?" She begins picking at a paper napkin and it's my turn to narrow my eyes. "What are you hiding?"

"We were flirting way before then," she admits, and my mouth falls open. "You were being a dick, and he was there." She shrugs. "He was nice to me."

"So, you've been together for, what, over fourteen years?"

She shakes her head. "No. We were getting close and . . . well, I had to go away for a while. We stayed in touch, and when I returned briefly, we had a thing, but with him at university and me in the police cadets, it took us a while to get together."

"Why did you go away?"

"My father," she mutters. "He thought it would be best." She takes a breath and releases it slowly. "Anyway, I've been with Pete for three years."

"And now, you're at the top?" I add.

"Not the top, that would be taking my father's job," she adds a laugh, "but I'm where I want to be for now."

"What happened to the dream of opening your own shop and selling flowers?"

She smiles, and for the first time, it lights her blue eyes. "You remember that, huh?"

"Of course. You loved flowers and opening a shop was your dream. You were gonna tell your dad, if I remember right?"

Her smile fades. "Well, reality set in and I realised flowers wouldn't pay the bills."

I frown. "So, what happened to that huge plot you rented and filled with bright flowers?" She'd saved money from her part-time job at sixteen to rent an allotment space so she could grow her plants. Her father didn't know about it, and it was the one place she loved to be, spending all her free time there. It's how we hid our two-year relationship from him, often meeting up there.

"I grew up," she says.

I frown. "Bullshit. You don't stop enjoying stuff like that. You loved that place."

Sadness passes over her. "He found out," she admits. "He made me pull them up."

"What?"

"My father."

"Gemma, I'm—" She cuts me off before I can say how sorry I am. He was always a prick, from what she'd told me.

"It's fine. It was for the best. Besides, I went away for a year, so my plants would've died anyway."

"I bet you have a garden full of colour now to make up for it?"

She gives a slight shake of her head. "Pete hates flowers. He gets terrible hay fever, and we chose a place with a tiny garden. Low maintenance."

"You don't have a garden?"

"Does it matter?" she suddenly snaps. "My father only found out about the bloody garden because of you."

"Me?"

"He read my text messages. You talked about meeting there."

"He must be pleased you're a cop," I say, changing the heavy subject.

She gives an empty laugh. "He's not pleased no matter what I do. Anyway, what about you? Tell me about your life now."

I scrub a hand over my nine o'clock shadow. "I work the garage and sometimes help the brothers in their businesses."

"Yeah, I saw the Demons own a few."

"All legit," I tell her. "Where is lover boy tonight, anyway?" I ask. "Doesn't he mind you meeting a biker for a drink?"

"He's working late," she says, and there's something in her eyes that tells me she's not happy about it.

"You didn't tell him you bumped into me?"

"Why would I? It's not important."

I grin. "I was your first love. In fact, I was your first for other things too. I'd want to know if it were me."

Her phone rings out before she can reply and she startles, grabbing it from her bag. She fiddles for a second, and I realise she was recording. I smirk, pushing to stand. "You take care, Snap. It was good to see you."

She glances from her phone to me. "Wait," she says, cancelling the call. I head for the exit, and she rushes behind. "Fletch," she calls as I step out of the bar, "wait."

I turn quickly, and she comes to an abrupt stop, almost crashing into my chest. She visibly swallows, but I know she's not scared of me. It's something else behind those baby blues, lust maybe. I crowd her as she backs up until she hits the wall, then I place a hand above her head and lean in close.

"What do you want, Snap?" I whisper, and her eyes are fixed to my mouth again. "You think I'm gonna sit there and confess all? You might be the first virgin I ever fucked, but you're still a pig."

My words break the spell, and she gives her head a slight shake. "Step away from me, Cameron," she says firmly.

I ignore her, moving closer still until my cheek brushes hers, and she inhales sharply. "I'll call you about the car," I murmur close to her ear, using my free hand to wrap a lock of her brown hair around my finger. "It was good to catch up." I push off the wall and walk away, refusing to look back, because as much as I want to, I cannot get involved with Gemma Stone.

Gemma

I watch him leave, shuddering as the warmth goes from my body. Fuck. He's still a smooth bastard. My phone rings out again, and I jump with fright, accepting the call and walking in the opposite direction. "Yep?"

"How did it go?" asks Phil.

"He's too guarded. We covered old ground, but he gave me nothing."

"Did we expect him to?" he asks. "You coming in?"

"On my way," I mutter, disconnecting and flagging down a passing taxi.

I get to the station five minutes later, and Phil is already updating Karen as I join them in her office. It feels lighter now my father isn't pacing the floor. "Tell me from the beginning," she says firmly, her brows pinched together in that worried way I often see when I stumble across an ‘opportunity' without running it by her. I can't blame her. She was the superintendent when Lexi Cooper fucked up and ran off with the club's president, so she gets nervous when operations have anything to do with the club.

"It was an accident," I tell her, and she rolls her eyes. "I swear," I add. "My car broke down outside his garage."

"You didn't even tell me there was a history there," she snaps.

"I didn't know it was him," I argue. "Not until I saw him in The Bar." She glares, and I sigh. "I was out on my friend's hen night, and he was working in there, wearing one of their kuttes. I haven't seen him for years and I didn't know his circle was gonna be the club we were watching."

"What's his history?" she asks, standing and passing us to go into the boardroom next to hers. We follow, and she slides a pen and a bunch of Post-it notes towards me. I take them and sit at the large table.

"His name is Cameron Fletcher," I say as I write it down. "The badge on his kutte said ‘Enforcer'." I write that underneath and take it from the pad to pass to Phil, who sticks it on the board along with the names of all the other Chaos Demons members. "He's originally from Nottingham. That's where I met him when I was sixteen," I continue, feeling uneasy as I relay some of my personal life. "We were just kids, but even then, he was trouble. He was in with a bad crowd, selling drugs, drinking. No parents that I know of and there are no siblings. He's not married and no kids." I scribble the garage name on the second Post-it. "He runs Chaos Cars."

"Which is where your car is?" she asks, and I nod. "And what was tonight?"

I shrug. "A catch-up."

"With a criminal you're actively investigating?"

"I saw it as an opportunity."

"You didn't run it by me," she yells, slamming her hand on the table. "Which means even if he confessed his deepest, darkest sins, we wouldn't have been able to use them in court because a decent judge would've thrown it out and accused us of entrapment."

"I'm sorry," I mutter. "There wasn't time."

"Bullshit, Gemma. Don't pull a stunt like that again or I will take you off the case." She turns away to look out the window. "In fact, I might take you off it anyway."

"No," I say a little too loudly. She turns to face me, and I swallow the panic. "I've worked hard on this," I tell her. "Please don't pull me."

"What was your relationship with him?"

"I was a kid," I repeat. "It was a stupid crush, nothing important. He didn't even recognise me right away. Please . . . we can use this to our advantage."

"Not a chance," she snaps. "I'm not losing another good officer to that club. From now on, you run everything by me."

I nod, and as she heads for the door, I exchange a look with Phil that tells him I'm going to push my luck. He knows me well enough now and lets out a groan. "Actually," I add, and she slows, "I really believe he'll be my way in."

"How?"

"He was flirting."

She groans too as I stand. "Just hear me out. What if we can get it approved for me to pursue this?"

"I just told you no."

"I won't get into a relationship with him," I reassure her. "I'll do it right."

"Like Lexi Cooper?" she throws at me.

"I'm not like her. She was a rookie. I can do this. Let me get friendly and see what I can find out."

She scrubs her hands over her tired face. "It won't work. He'll never let his guard down with you because he knows who you are."

"I can spin it to make him think I'm like the old me."

"And who exactly was that?" she demands.

"A carefree, flower-loving kid who didn't want to follow in her father's footsteps."

"You know I have to run this by him."

"Fine," I mutter, shrugging and praying he doesn't recognise the name. "Without all the detail?" I ask hopefully. "I don't think my father needs to know about sixteen-year-old me falling for a biker." Even though he already knows in way more depth than that.

Karen pulls open the door and leaves. I flop down into a chair as Phil sits opposite me. "He'll never agree."

"Of course, he won't. Anything to stop me looking good."

I wake with a start. I left the station at midnight and Peter still wasn't home, so I'd fallen to sleep on the couch. Groaning, I push to sit as my muscles ache in protest. I grab my phone to check the time and see three missed calls from my father.

If I'm going to hear a lecture, I at least need caffeine, so I head for the kitchen and turn on the kettle. But before I've even grabbed a cup, it rings again, and I growl in frustration before answering. "Good morning," I say brightly. "I was just about to return your calls."

"It's almost ten in the morning and you've only just woken up," he barks.

"I pulled an eighteen-hour shift yesterday and still went back last night to speak to my super."

"Cameron Fletcher," he barks, and I wince. It was too much to hope he'd forgotten that name after everything.

"It's a good opportunity," I say.

"For you to go crawling back?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm practically married. I was a child when I last knew him."

"I want you off the case," he says firmly.

"No," I snap. "Don't you dare."

"It's my decision."

"A bad one," I yell angrily. "You hate that I might actually succeed."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I can take down this club, and you know I can. Let me do this and it'll make you front page."

"Are you forgetting what he did?" he hisses.

"How can I when you refuse to let me forget?" I spit. "I hate him, and that makes me the perfect candidate for this. I will take down The Chaos Demons. Please don't stand in my way."

There's silence on his end, and I hold my breath. "Fine, but you will come and see me regularly with updates." It's a way for him to feel in control, so I reluctantly agree.