Page 126 of Come Back To Me

Jack: I’m outside

I squeeze my arm around Mads tighter, moving my lips to her ear. “I need to dip out for a bit.”

As predicted, a stark look of horror smears itself across her face. She leans away from me, her eyes narrowing.

“It’s fine. I’ll be back soon.”

“Dean?” She glances sideways, checking if anyone’s watching us. I can hear her heart pounding in her chest. Can smell fear radiating off her. “Where are you going?” she whispers for only me to hear.

Honestly, I have no clue where Jack could be taking me, or what he’s going to show me. “Meeting an old friend. Don’t worry.”

Mads recoils instantly. “Last time you told me not to worry, I was left on my own.”

I can tell by the drop of her face and the way her bodydroops; my actions have scarred her faith in me. But feeling my phone vibrate, I know I have to go. I have to get the club out of the mess I got us in before I have any hope of having the life I want.

I stand, kissing her forehead, not giving myself time to change my mind. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.” My heart tugs wanting to stay near to her, but my feet carry me out of the building unnoticed.

As I approach the main street, a few cars are parked up along the curb. I expected a blacked-out Mercedes or some other standard issue government car when Jack dropped me home yesterday. But when I spot the blue truck further down the road, I start walking.

I open the door, and Jack looks up from under the hood of his baseball cap. “I still think the government should hand out better vehicles than this.”

“They do, but the ute’s more my style.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh as he shifts the truck into first and pulls away.

We drive for almost an hour, heading towards the coast in relative silence. There’s plenty we need to catch up on, but nothing I can bring myself to say.

“We’re almost there.”

I look at Jack then back to the road. He pulls the truck down a narrow path, pulling to a stop near an estuary. I eye him, wondering what the hell we’re doing here. “What is this?” I ask.

“Down there.” He points to what appears to be a disused lifeboat hut. “Come on.”

We jump out of the truck, treading across the squelchy sand. Jack pulls back one of the rotten wooden doors, and I follow him inside.

It’s dark, the stench of rotten eggs, seaweed and a musty scent hangs heavy in the air. No doubt it’s coming from the crate sat in the middle of the hut. I pinch my nose stepping closer,noticing the crate is the same as the ones we inspected when Vincent first brought his deal to us.

“You recognise this?” Jack asks smacking the top of the wood. I don’t reply. He knows I do. “These are the crates Costa uses to transfer the weapons.”

I grind my teeth. The smell of the enclosed space is beginning to make me feel sick. Where’s he going with this, and why doesn’t he seem to be affected?

“Do you know how many people can fit inside one of these?”

Terror. It’s unmistakeable. It almost unmans me the second he mentionspeople. “I can tell you if you like.”

I give him a hard stare, willing the anger rising in me to lay low.

“Seven. That’s the most recorded to date in one of his shipments.”

Bile rises to my throat. People? Shipments? No way seven people could fit in the crate. “Jack?” I plead for more information.

“Sean.”

From out of the shadows, another man steps forward.

I naturally reach for my hidden knife.

“No need, Dean. He’s safe.”

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