Page 22 of Redemption's Inferno

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With both Emilie and his mother asleep, Chains pulled out his laptop and logged in to JLT Securities. Although Emilie was his boss at the club, technically Chains worked for Joe Westfield and his firm, JLT. They had a contract with Club Inferno, providing background checks on all members, security sweeps for bugs and illegal recording devices, and Chains’ services. He’d worked for Joe for almost five years now, learning the bodyguard part of the business from the older man and in turn, helping him get to the next level of protection with cyber security, hacking and other high-tech options that were otherwise hard to find. Together they’d doubled Joe’s business, keeping them both busy. Chains had been starting to feel a little burnout, though, and when the opportunity had come to be the permanent head of security at Club Inferno, he’d jumped at it. Despite his proclamations he never wanted to settle down, the idea of working and living in one place had pulled at him.

Although JLT’s database didn’t include police reports outside the U.S., it did collect worldwide data on specific types of crime sprees and criminals, including unsolved cases. Unfortunately, there was nothing about the unsolved murder of a young man named Adam in London eight years ago. Despite the lack of information, Chains was encouraged by it. Since it wasn’t easily found, that meant it wasn’t a priority to the authorities and there was a very good chance it wasn’t an unsolved case, but there was more to the story. He hoped so, because even with his attraction to Emilie aside, he didn’t want her to go to prison. If everything happened exactly the way she said it had, and she had a good attorney, she would probably only serve a year or two, if any time at all. He still wanted to sort out the details, both for his own peace of mind and hers. He didn’t like the thought of her being here in a British prison while he went back to Vegas and ran Club Inferno for her. That was the chain of command—when Emilie wasn’t available, he was in charge. If both of them were somehow unable to work, Becca would step in.

Their main dungeon master, Franny Pomeranz, had said she didn’t want the responsibility of management so she wasn’t on the list. It struck him as a little odd, but she’d said she was a single mother who also took care of her mother and she couldn’t risk any sign of impropriety, whether it was missing money or receipts that didn’t match, so she chose not to take on any responsibility other than watching over the dungeon. Chains was a dungeon master as well, but he oversaw all aspects of security at the club so he had other matters that took precedence on a daily basis. That was part of why he loved the job so much; every day was a little different and he’d come to enjoy the variety.

Staring at the computer screen, he sent an email to Warren, updating him on what Emilie had told him and requesting any Scotland Yard files he could find that fit the parameters he laid out. Maybe within a couple of days Emilie’s situation would be sorted out and they could go home. Once they were back in Las Vegas, working at Club Inferno where she was boss, he would be less inclined to think about sleeping with her and he would stop staring into those damn blue eyes of hers. Maybe.

* * *

Chains required very little sleep, only getting four or five hours a night since he’d first joined the RAF at 21. So though he’d crawled into bed at 2:30, he was up and making instant coffee by 7:00. His mother only drank tea but he’d been living and working in the U.S. long enough for coffee to have become a habit now. He still enjoyed a good cup of tea, but not in the morning. Emilie, he knew, was also a coffee drinker and he wondered if there was a Starbucks in town where he could get her something other than the instant Nescafé his mother kept on hand for the odd guest who requested it.

“There’s a shop just a few minutes up the road with excellent coffee, I’ve been told,” Dolores said, practically reading his mind. “Go on and get some for you and Emilie and I’ll make breakfast.”

“Don’t fuss,” he said, kissing her cheek as he dug out his keys. “We don’t want you to have extra work while we’re here.”

She swatted his backside. “I haven’t a bloody thing to do but fuss over you! Now bugger off and get your lady friend a decent cup of coffee.”

He laughed and headed out to the car, the door shutting quietly behind him just as Emilie ambled in. In shorts and a T-shirt, with no makeup and her hair pulled up in a ponytail, she didn’t look a day over 14 and Dolores grinned at her.

“Aren’t you a sight in the mornin’!” she laughed. “Like having a teenager!”

Emilie flushed. “I’m nearly 27, but…” Her voice trailed off. “Is today the 24th?”

“It is.”

“Oh.” Emilie smiled to herself.

“What’s important about the 24th?” Dolores asked knowingly, her eyes meeting Emilie’s.

“It’s my birthday,” she admitted. “I’d forgotten about it.”

“You forgot your own birthday!” Dolores shook her head. “And I suppose Darryl doesn’t know?”

“I don’t think we’ve ever talked about it,” Emilie murmured, inwardly grimacing. This would get awkward if Chains didn’t get her a gift, but it would be even more awkward if he did.

“Darryl’s gone to get you some coffee,” Dolores said after a moment. “I’m sure he’s remembered.”

Emilie debated whether to text him a warning, but decided against it. Maybe they could fake an argument and then wouldn’t have to work so hard to act like they were a couple. The whole thing was strange, but since he seemed intent on pretending they were together, she was willing to play along. If she was being honest, she was enjoying their little charade. Even though it wasn’t real, it felt good to have someone like Chains paying attention to her. It had only been a day but it had felt real the moment he stepped into that shower in London with her. Barely conscious and in a sex play-induced stupor, she’d been washed and taken care of as though they were much closer than they were. He’d seemed to know exactly what she needed in that moment, and the only other person who’d ever been there for her like that had been Viggo, to the extent she’d let him. She’d begun pushing him away almost immediately after they were married and she wondered if she’d done it by design; somehow, she’d sensed he needed someone other than her.

Settling at the table with a piece of toast, she turned on her phone and was pleased to see texts from her friends and family, wishing her a happy birthday. Even Sebastian, who was still angry with her, had sent her a message at midnight his time:

Happy joint birthday to my favorite twin sister—hope you’re having a blast on holiday. Maybe drop in to Stockholm before you head back to the U.S. Feels like we should chat. Love you, S.

She smiled and texted him back, mentioning she would let him know if she had time to stop in Stockholm on the way home. Then she read messages from Karl, Kate, her mother, Becca, Franny, and Viggo and Jamie. The last message contained a short video, sent by Simone’s nanny, Misty. It was of Simone holding up a sign that said, “Happy Birthday, Mommy,” and Emilie felt tears threatening. She already missed her daughter and there was no telling how long until she saw her again. If there was a trial, she would ask Viggo to bring Simone to London for a few days so she could spend at least a little time with her. Chains had given her hope she wouldn’t be in prison for very long, and she would only miss a couple of years of Simone’s life. She fervently hoped he was right; nothing meant as much to her as Simone, but she had to move past this guilt and become emotionally stable. The way she’d been the last couple of months wasn’t good for anyone, least of all Simone.

Emilie started when the kitchen door opened and Chains came in, a huge bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag in the other. She got up and took the bag from him. “What’s this?” she asked, a soft smile on her lips.

“Happy birthday,” he said softly, brushing his lips across hers.

The tender caress caught her by surprise and she blinked up at him before stuttering, “Th-thank you.” She breathed in the rich scent of the exotic flowers, closing her eyes to enjoy it.

“I’ll get a vase,” Dolores said with a grin.

“Coffee’s in the car,” he said quickly, going back outside again.

Emilie and Dolores put water in a vase and then arranged the flowers together, smiling at the beautiful colors.

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