Chapter Five

Chelsea

“Drive, Ted. Take me home.” I slammed the back door of the car and slunk down in the seat. “Now.”

What the heck had just happened?

“You okay, Miss Chelsea?” Ted had an East London accent, though he tried to hide it.

“Sure. Yes. Of course.” I pulled off my cap, releasing my hair.

Luckily Ted wasn’t a talker, not this late at night anyway, and he started the engine and headed away from the university at a speed that told me he wanted his bed.

My entire body was shaking. I was hot and cold at the same time. My brain was fried and my pussy so wet I knew I’d leave a damp patch on the leather seat. Fuck. Did I really see what I thought I had? Or had I imagined it?

Had my brain, while I’d come hard and long, conjured the small, perfectly round burn mark on my masked lover’s hand? Had I wanted it to be the professor so badly that I’d dreamed it up? A mirage?

I was going insane!

Or was I?

The light had been dim, of course it had been, but not pitch-black. And only yesterday I’d studied that tiny scar and wondered if it was a cigarette burn.

I stared out at the passing houses, mostly in darkness, and recalled his hands on me. His big fingers gripping my ass and hips with such possession an extra jolt of adrenaline had gone through me.

And that slap, as I’d teetered on the edge of coming. I was sure it was forbidden but he’d done it anyway. Hadn’t been able to help himself. Was that just the surface of a seriously kinky dude? Had he wanted to slap me more, until I’d cried out, burned red?

The thought wasn’t horrific to me

I held in a groan and closed my eyes when the houses became hedgerows. What were the chances of Ted smelling sex on me? Zero, I hoped.

What were the chances that Professor Andrew Deacon had just taken me roughly and anonymously from behind and given me the best orgasm I’d had in months…years…maybe ever?

I went over the entire event in my mind again. From bending over and pulling up my skirt, to wriggling my ass and spreading my feet. I hadn’t waited long to be claimed, and then when I had, he’d hit the ground running, fucking me without any hesitation or buildup or, in fact, consideration. He’d just rammed home and pounded me, dragging me onto him in a way that super-charged my G-spot. It had been about him finding an orgasm and me going along for the ride.

But ride him I had, I’d given as good as I’d got. And oh…oh…if it had been the professor, Andrew, now I knew we were meant to be. We’d fitted perfectly, come in synchrony, and finished together. My satisfaction was still ebbing and flowing in my veins, and my pussy, if it were possible, felt exhausted.

Eventually, we drew up at the gates. Ted used the remote to open them, then drove up the gravel driveway.

When he came to a stop, he alighted, dashed around, and opened my door. “Is that it for today, Miss Chelsea? Anywhere else you need to go?”

“No, and of course, you’re done, go get some sleep, and thank you.” I stood and was glad when he shut the door to hide any wet patches. Hopefully they’d dry by morning.

“I’ll go and park up in the garage and then I’ll be ready for you at nine for university.”

“I don’t need to be in until lunchtime. Have a lie-in, with Dad being away you can.”

He smiled and touched the little black peaked cap he liked to wear. “Thank you.”

He drove off, and I climbed the steps, rooting in my pocket for the key. The house was dark and quiet. Tina had Thursday’s off so had likely gone home.

But when I stepped into the hallway and flicked on a light I heard noises from my father’s study. I glanced at the alarm control panel. It had been turned to neutral.

“Dad?” I called, kicking off my shoes and dropping the keys into a bowl. “Is that you?”

Another shot of adrenaline went into me. Dad was in London. Tina was at her home. Who the fuck was rooting around in my father’s drawers and filing cabinets?

A rash of fear swarmed up my neck and over my scalp.

I dashed into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife out of the block. It was heavy, and the stainless-steel handle cool in my palm.

My mouth dried in terror, and my stomach knotted. I didn’t want to stab anyone, but needs must. If the fucker tried to attack me, I’d go for him…or her.

I went back to the study and stood outside the door, held my breath. There was definitely someone rooting around. Maybe my father had forgotten something and had come back to get it? Perhaps it was one of his enemies, and he’d garnered a few over the years, come to find evidence.

I swallowed, bolstered my courage, and then shoved at the door and flicked the overhead light on. “Who are you?” I stomped forward, knife at the ready.

“What the fuck?” A tall dark-haired man in black spun to me and withdrew his hand from the filing cabinet. “Chelsea!”

My eyes widened. “Vince!” I stared at my brother. He had a new tattoo, a spider’s web, on his neck and his stubble was the heaviest I’d ever seen it. He was dressed head to toe in leather, and his jacket had an image of a wolf, or maybe a bear, with drool dripping from its mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“Why weren’t you here?” He frowned at me and dropped a sheaf of papers on Dad’s desk. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I was out…with friends?”

He frowned. “You don’t look like you’ve been drinking. You get bright-red cheeks when you’re drinking.”

“I haven’t been…I was studying…Ted just dropped me back.”

“A bit keen on your studies, aren’t you? That’s new.” His attention dropped to the knife I was still holding aloft.

“No, it isn’t.” I set the knife on the desk. “You just haven’t been around to see. So a better question is, where the hell have you been for the last year?”

“As far away from here as possible.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “What were you going to do with that?”

“Stab the intruder.”

He nodded slowly and twisted his lips.

It was a mannerism that had always irritated the heck out of me. “What?”

“Never pick a weapon you don’t know how to defend yourself against.”

“What are you now? Some kind of weapon expert?” I pouted and folded my arms. “’Cause you hang out with bikers?”

He withdrew a gun from the small of his back. “I can shoot this thing.”

“Put it away.” I frowned, my heart rate tripping back up just at the sight of it. “I can’t for a minute imagine you have a license.”

“You always were such a rule follower.” He put the gun away.

“Am not.”

He huffed as though it wasn’t worth arguing the point. If he’d been anyone other than my big brother I’d have told him how I’d just willingly been fucked by a stranger. Offered my pussy up on a first come, first served basis. How was that following rules?

But I held that juicy snippet in. It wouldn’t go down well.

“So what are you here for?” I asked.

“Information.”

“About what?” I dropped into Dad’s swivel chair and spun around, kicking my legs the way I had when I was a kid.

“Information on where he was the night our mother died.”

I stilled and sat forward. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes. “I don’t want to discuss it with you.”

“Why not? I deserve to know if it has something to do with Mum.”

“I don’t want you to know, not until I’m certain.”

I stood, walked to him. “Vince, I’m not some little kid anymore, tell me.” I set my hand on the cool leather covering his arm. “Please.”

“Okay.” His jaw tensed.

“Spit it out.”

He swallowed tightly. “I think he had something to do with Mum’s death.”

I snapped my hand away and stepped back as though he’d suddenly become electrified. “What are you saying? I mean. No. That’s impossible.” I shook my head. “She died in a car crash, in the lanes, it was foggy, she didn’t see the other car, and the ditch, it was full of water and…” The next words caught in my throat like glass. She’d been knocked unconscious and drowned at the wheel, or at least that was what the pathologist’s report had said.

“Why was she even in the lanes on a foggy night?” Vince said, resuming his search. “And even if she had a reason, she was a good driver, she had a fucking amazing car and would have known where she was going. She’d lived in this area all of her life. Knew it like the back of her hand.”

“I…I…I still don’t know what you’re getting at.” I sat again, heavily this time, my bones suddenly solid and my muscles too weary to hold them.

“I mean, I think Dad wasn’t in London like he said he was. I think he was here. I think they had an argument, she drove off, and he chased her. That’s when she crashed.”

“You think he chased her until she crashed.”

“I have no idea if he meant for her to crash, but the fact is she did.”

“And he just left her to die? In the ditch? He would never do that.”

“Our father is not the man you think he is.” Vince scowled, his dark eyebrows coming together.

“He wouldn’t leave us, or Mum, if we were hurt.”

“So how come I found a receipt in his pocket, a few weeks later, from Giddy’s farm shop with the date and time on it, just hours before Mum died?”

“I don’t know. I was in Ibiza, on Tarquin’s yacht, it was his annual birthday jaunt, I always go.” I frowned. We’d always believed Dad’s side of the story, or at least I had. There was no reason not to. “Wouldn’t the police have questioned him about his whereabouts?”

“Yes, they did.” Vince came and shoved his bum onto the desk, folded his arms, and stared down at me. “And he gave Marl Johnson as his alibi. Said they were at The Savoy. Marl even produced a restaurant bill for two…though he didn’t dine with Dad, I’d bet my left bollock on it.”

“I hate that bloke. Marl Johnson.”

“Why?” He raised his eyebrows.

“He’s a leech, and not one true word falls from his mouth.”

“Exactly.” Vince pointed at me. “You’ve hit the nail on the head.”

The dots were joining. “You think he was a false alibi?”

“I do indeed.”

“But that’s a crime.”

“Yep.”

My thoughts were colliding. The grief of losing my mother rising to the surface with this new information. I felt sick. I felt betrayed. I wanted to scream and shout and stamp my feet.

But I just sat there, staring at my biker brother. “You’ve known about this for months?”

“I’ve had my suspicions.”

“Is that why you left?”

“Yes, I confronted Dad, said I had evidence. He wasn’t happy.”

“And the receipt is all the evidence you have?”

“I’m getting closer. I have a witness that says Marl was with a woman that night in London at The Savoy.”

The bottom of my world was falling out. My father had been my rock for so long. In my world he’d never lied to me, certainly not about my sweet mother who I’d believed he’d loved as much as I did.

“This is horrible, just horrible.” Two fat tears escaped, one from each eye, and slid down my cheeks at speed. “I can’t…I just…I don’t want to…”

“I know, and I’m sorry, it’s why I didn’t want you to know. It’s why I kept it to myself and then left. I knew I’d have to tell you if I saw you.”

Confusion wound through me. “We have to confront him, Vince.”

“I’ve tried, I got kicked out of the house, remember.”

“You left, you left me, too. I hated you for that, you didn’t return my calls…and I’ve been so worried.” My words turned into sobs, an entire well of suppressed emotion bubbling up.

“Oh shit, come here.” He gathered me close, pressing me to his hard leather-clad chest. “I’m sorry, really I am. But you wanted to know the truth.”

Did I? I suppose I did, even if it hurt like a punch to the guts.

“So what are you going to do now?” I stuttered through sobs.

He stroked my hair. “I have to find out the truth once and for all, and if Dad was involved, he has to face the law.”

“It won’t bring her back.” I looked up at him. “Nothing will.”

“Haven’t you just studied the justice system?”

“Yes.”

“So you know how it works, new evidence, an old case, he can still be tried, and we’ll have to trust a jury to see the truth.”

“The truth that our father is a murderer?”

“Or accessory to murder, or guilty of leaving the scene of a crash.” Vince shrugged. “You know about this stuff better than me, but I’ll trust the authorities to see it through if I provide them with what they need.”

“And your biker gang, what do they think?”

“They’ve got my back, they’re with me, that’s what being in The Beasts means. You’re not alone. And for once in my life, that’s kind of nice.”

“But Vince.” I touched his cheek. “You weren’t alone, you had me. Always.”

“And for that, I’m grateful, Chelsea, and you should know I’ll always have your back, going forward, if Dad goes to jail, when Dad goes to jail, you’ll still have your big brother to look out for you.”