AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I asked you to do it today, so I should read it, shouldn’t I?” he rebuked.
Propped up on pillows he read, and she snuggled into his side. Occasionally he smiled and, at one point, he murmured with raised eyebrows. “Hint?”
Putting the sheets on the bedside table, he flipped onto his side to face her.
“Babe, reading that is perfect medicine after this shitty evening. Reading these words reminds me what makes you and I work well together.”
His body enveloped hers. The lights went out, and they entwined themselves about each other in the darkness.
“Delia isn’t a Dominant, Jason. A total fake. She liked the thrill of being in control without the responsibilities. She used Emily, took advantage of her. Delia is an arrogant fraud. I don’t mean an arrogance born out of confidence, but one based on her ego and pride. You’re nothing like her.”
“How do you know? You haven’t even spoken to her, Gem.”
“Emily’s account, you’ll see, and the blackmail notes are pompous and over confident. Delia doesn’t care about Emily, and yet Emily fails to see it. She told me she loves Delia. How can somebody be in love with a person who doesn’t reciprocate?”
She shut her eyes, trying to stem the tears welling up. Jason kissed the back of her neck.
“No more, Gemma. Sleep. You’re safe with me. I love you. You are my beautiful wife.”
Chapter 28. Moving On
The idea of telling Jason verbatim what she’d teased out of Emily during the car journey home didn’t appeal to Gemma. She scribbled the significant parts down and left the narrative on his desk for him to read. For a brief moment, she was tempted to open the shoebox and look at the pictures inside. However, she couldn’t face them. Emily hadn’t asked who Jason was, or what he did for a living. Perhaps Emily thought she’d married a gangster or some other insalubrious kind of man. After all, Jason had demolished Delia Rothesay in a relatively short timeframe.
Gemma imagined Emily trying to work out how she had managed to stay with the Rothesay for so long, as if the crimes Emily had been involved in had only just sunk into her brain. Emily’s mental anguish was one for a trained counsellor. Gemma had her own traumas to haunt her, and she wasn’t taking on another’s as well.
Johnson drove her to the beauty salon for her regular massage, wax, and manicure.
She could hear him humming. She suspected the previous evening’s events had buoyed his spirits in some fashion. Would he be talkative, too?
“You’re chirpy this morning,” she noted, smoothing the wrinkles out of her skirt and adjusting the seat belt.
His eyes appeared in the rearview mirror. He cleared his throat. “To be honest, Mrs Lucas, you know driving is not what I signed up to spend my career doing. Last night was a chance to do something…um…exciting. Not pleasant to witness, but I’ve come away feeling we made a difference.”
She sat up straighter. Yes, talkative. Go on, Dave, spill the beans. “What happened after I left with Emily?”
Johnson went quiet, focussing on the heavy traffic. About them, cyclists weaved and pedestrians scurried. Behind the privacy glass, Gemma sat invisible.
She would have to fib to get him to open up. “He hasn’t told me anything yet. We were tired last night, and he left early for work. He will tell me. So, this conversation doesn’t break any secrets.” She keenly sought another’s perspective on Jason’s handling of Rothesay. A part of her wondered if he had been honest with her about his temper and managing his self-control. He’d looked particularly vicious when she left Rothesay’s house.
For a few seconds, Johnson drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “All right. You left and things needed to be hurried up. We found plenty of evidence. She’d deleted e-mails from her account, but foolishly left draft copies of her blackmail template plus scans of some of the photos. She wasn’t that bright—at least, she would never make a criminal mastermind.” Johnson chuckled.
Gemma shuffled forward in her seat. Her hand pressed against the back of the driver’s seat. She couldn’t see his face.
“Then we put her in the cellar. Left her gagged and handcuffed with the door locked. Your husband slammed the front door shut, and we stood there, deadly silent, and waited. It didn’t take long for her to freak out. Seriously, she kicked the door and threw herself against it. She gave us the location the moment we opened the door and took the gag off. They were under a floorboard in her bedroom, along with the cash. Your husband burnt most of the photos. He reimbursed himself with the money and said the rest would go to a charity of his choosing.”
She’d forgotten about the money. Jason hadn’t. “I’m glad the money came back. Didn’t seem right to leave it with her. How did my husband convince Rothesay to keep her mouth shut?” She caught a glimpse of his pensive face in the rearview mirror. Another pause while he thought about answering.
“Please, Dave.” She resorted to utilising his first name.
The car picked up speed. Johnson sighed. “At first, Rothesay tried to, you know, get back in control. Rather futile effort because, as soon as your husband mentioned custody of her daughter, she went white as a sheet. Then, Mr Lucas tore a few strips off her. Several strips. About using Emily, making her an accomplice in her blackmailing. Basically, your husband sat in a chair and reduced her practically to tears with threats about, well, nasty stuff. Quite a performance. He totally and utterly annihilated her, Mrs Lucas. I don’t want to give details. It wasn’t pleasant to witness, though the bitch deserved every moment of it.”
Gemma’s heart thumped in her chest. “Did my husband touch Rothesay?”
“Touch Rothesay?” Johnson shook his head. “You mean hit, don’t you, ma’am? No, other than to undo the handcuffs, your husband didn’t lay finger on her.”
She blew out a lungful of held breath and settled back in her seat. “Good. What happened to all the evidence, on her computer?”
“We took anything that might s
