Page 11 of Fletch

“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.”

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