Page 83 of Reckless

Thirty-Seven

Jamie

Seb dropped me back home early this morning, so I could tend to my neglected house. Then he rushed off somewhere, but he wouldn’t tell me where, not even when I tried to tempt him with sex.

Having done everything that needed doing, I’m sitting on the sofa with my laptop and type in the name of the cartel Natalia mentioned last night, and the screen fills with news reports about the gun runners turned traffickers. Most of them are about murders they have committed, but one appears to be from an ex-member who turned informant and is now in hiding. He talks about their gun running operation between Mexico and America, but also their supply chain in Afghanistan, which collapsed back in 2015.

There’s nothing more than a few snippets speculating about their turn to trafficking, and how profitable the skin trade is. I close the window not wanting to see severed heads or read any more about how these poor girls are treated and sold like cattle. Watching it first-hand was more than enough for me.

I realise that with everything that happened last night, we didn’t see Jasper, and I wonder if he was there. Deciding to see what the wonderful internet has on him, I type his name in the search bar.

The screen fills with several images of him in his uniform, and I click a link for an article about the death of his wife. While I wait for it to load, I leave the laptop on the coffee table and nip to the kitchen to grab a drink. Walking back to the sofa, my eyes land on the screen, and the water I just drank sprays out everywhere. I cough and splutter as I drop down in front of my laptop, water still dripping from my mouth.

“Oh…my fucking…god,” I stutter out between coughing. The woman on the screen stares back at me, and it’s like looking in a mirror. Except for the colour of our hair, she’s a brunette, there is almost nothing different about us, and I suddenly feel very sick at the thought of Jasper imagining his wife—his dead wife at that—while we had sex.

“Oh shit!” comes a voice from behind me, and I spin to see Seb and Jay standing there.

“You knew about this? This is what the strange look was when I told you about the policewoman at the station.” He nods. “Why didn’t you say anything, Seb?”

“Because I wasn’t certain and wanted to make sure before I told you.”

“You still should have told me,” I say, my voice rising a little in anger at him keeping things, important things, from me. “So, what does this mean? Because clearly, I am the spitting image of his dead wife. Was it just chance that he was at the hospital and saw me or not?”

Seb steps further into the room, coming to kneel beside me, and I see Jay moving to the kitchen.

“I don’t know what it means. Have you spoken to him since the station?” I shake my head. “Well, let’s hope that now you’ve made it clear you aren’t interested, he’ll leave you alone.”

“Yeah,” I reply, but there’s no conviction in my words. Something is still off about it or maybe it’s just the thought of him seeing his wife every time we’ve been together. Needing to change the subject, I ask, “You going to tell me where you’ve been all day?”

Seb leans forward and kisses me before jumping to his feet, shutting the lid on my laptop and pulling me to my feet. He takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen where there are several bags on the counter I hadn’t noticed before, and Jay is currently emptying them.

“What’s going on?”

“This, dear Jamie, is food, and today I’m going to be cooking,” Jay answers, slowly pronouncing every word like I’m a child.

“Fuck off, Jay,” I say as I pass him, but there’s no heat to my words.

While Jay cooks, we talk, and I learn that Jay is a tattooist and did most of Seb’s and quite a few of his own. He shows me a picture of a guy who had a pair of stocking clad girl’s legs tattooed around his armpit, one going up the underside of his arm and the other down his ribcage, and when he lifted his arm in the air it looked like the girl was spreading her legs. I’m equal parts amused, disgusted and shocked at the dumb-arsery of some people.

We are just finishing up with our food, when there’s a lull in the conversation, and I mention that I need to go and see my mum. Seb and Jay both pause, it’s a split second but long enough for me to notice. I suddenly realise that this whole cooking for me thing was easing me into whatever news the two of them have to share.

“Okay, I see what this is. Out with it. What the fuck’s going on?” I demand, laying my knife and fork down.

“We went to see your dad today. He’s been avoiding Rick’s calls and since Dean has been with Natalia, we’ve had no way of knowing what he’s doing.”

I sit and listen as Seb explains that they think the man my mum had an affair with is responsible for the threats, but she’s refusing to talk, and they don’t know why.

“I don’t understand. Why won’t she say?”

“We don’t know, but it’s possible the man is blackmailing her, or he knows something she doesn’t want people to know. Your dad is going to talk with her,” Seb replies.

“Maybe I should go see her too.”

“I think you should let your dad talk to her first.”

“Fine, but if he doesn’t get anywhere, then I’ll go.” I pick the plates up, taking them to the sink. “What’s the plan for tomorrow? I assume you and Rick talked about meeting with Tank.”

“We did,” he says as he joins me at the sink. “I’m going with Dean and Jay is going to stay with Natalia.”

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