Page 47 of Fletch

“He didn’t groom me,” I spit, and he slaps me. It’s so hard, I instantly vomit into the dry soil.

“Your mother had stupid dreams of flower shops, look how that ended up.”

I wipe my tears as I retch again, wincing as my fingers trace the burning of his slap. My mother loved her shop, but it’s where she met the man of her dreams, leaving me and my father behind when she moved to Spain to set up a new shop and life there. Since then, she’s not been in contact, and that’s probably down to my father.

The sound of his belt unclipping has me reaching for the red tulips, and as I tug them from the ground, I sob uncontrollably. His slaps always sting, but his belt hurts so much worse. And while I rip each pretty flower from the soil, I promise myself that one day, I’ll have my own garden where I can grow whatever I want.

Eleven

Fletch

Iwipe my hands on a rag and throw it over my shoulder. “I can have it ready for you by tomorrow,” I tell the guy who’s pacing the garage floor in agitation. “I can’t do it today cos I don’t have the parts.” He rolls his eyes and stomps off to make a call.

Nyx smirks. “Every fucker thinks we’re magic and can just fix everything with a simple touch.”

“Life would be easier if we could.”

“You talk to Gemma yet?”

I stick my head back under the bonnet to hide my irritation. “Not yet,” I lie. I’ve decided I need some time on my own with her before I ruin it all. “I will, though.”

“We could hang out together,” he suggests, and I straighten up to stare at him.

“What are we, five?”

He shrugs with a slight smirk on his lips. “Maybe she needs some persuading from the master.” I grab the rag from my shoulder and throw it in his face. He catches it, laughing.

“I’ve got it under control. She’s putty in my hands, trust me.”

Nyx stares past me and groans. “What the fuck?”

I turn to find police cars pulling up on the forecourt. “Great,” I mutter, watching as officers pile out and head our way. A second later, Gemma pushes her way through them, holding up her badge. “D.I. Stone,” she says firmly, avoiding eye contact. “We’ve got a warrant to search these premises.”

“Seriously?” I bark, and she briefly glances at me. For once, she looks unsure and maybe a little guilty.

“Is there anyone else on the premises?” asks another man, joining Gemma.

“Nope,” I state.

“Someone cuff them,” Gemma says, stepping away.

I’m cuffed and jostled into the office with Nyx, where we’re both forced to take a seat. “What grounds have you got to search?” I ask the nearest officer.

“We believe you’re involved in criminal activities,” he says, pulling open a filing cabinet and searching through the paper files.

“You won’t find shit,” I snap.

“Relax,” mutters Nyx. “They want to rile you.”

“They’re putting off potential customers,” I snap. “This is a fucking joke.”

“We’ll get the bitch back,” he murmurs, adding a wink.

Half an hour passes before Gemma enters the office while the rest of the officers congregate outside. “Here’s the paperwork,” she mutters, placing a folded piece of paper on the desk. She proceeds to unlock Nyx’s cuffs and then moves to me. “I didn’t have a choice,” she almost whispers.

I stand abruptly, and she takes a step back. “Fuck you, Gem,” I hiss, pushing past her and stepping out into the fresh air. “Ain’t it time you fuckers got off my property?” I yell at the officers mulling around.

I feel her step out behind me. “Your attitude isn’t helping,” she mutters quietly so only I can hear.

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