Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) by Evie Mitchell (short story to read .txt) 📗

I closed my eyes, every part of me throbbing in pain.

The bed dipped, a hand on my hair, gently brushing it away from my cheek.

“You did good today,” he whispered, tracing the apple of my cheek.

I nodded, eyes still closed.

“It’s gonna take time, Em. Don’t beat yourself up.”

I don’t have time.

Tears I’d been fighting burned my eyelids.

“Dr. CJ said–”

“I know,” I interrupted him quietly, curling into myself slightly. “I know, Luc. I get it. It’s a matter of time.” I blew out a shaky breath before looking up at him. “I have to tell you something.”

“After you nap. I’ll be in the lounge room chilling till you wake.”

I fought back the warm feeling that settled in my belly every time he tried to take care of me.

“No.” I shook my head firmly. “Now.” I pulled in a breath.

“I’m leaving.”

His lips tugged up into a smile. “We’ve already been through this. In a few weeks you can–”

“I mean after this. Once I’m recovered. Consider this my notice. I’m leaving Canberra.”

He turned to stone.

I struggled up, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. “Luc–”

“Why?”

“It’s time.”

He turned, pinning me with a glare. “Is this because of the shooting?”

“No. Yes. No. I planned to resign before this.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s time.”

He pushed off the bed, standing to pace. “What does that even mean?”

“I just need a change.”

“I didn’t know you were unhappy.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You never said anything.”

I’m not.

I shrugged.

“Where are you going?”

The lie fell easily from my lips. “London. I got a job offer and–”

“A job offer? Who?”

“A start-up. No one you know.”

“So that’s it. You’re just leaving?” For a moment his blue eyes raked my face, searching for… something.

“Yes.”

“Right.” He turned abruptly. “Sleep well.”

I waited, listening to him speak to the girls briefly before I heard the apartment door open and close.

It didn’t reopen.

I let the tears come.

Chapter Eleven

Emmie

Luc hadn’t come around for a week. I had no idea where he was, what he was doing, or if he would return.

Dr. CJ had told me I’d made good progress and agreed to sign off on me trying more complex physio. We’d started therapy on my bad leg, and I’d progressed to ten minutes of walking (though still stop-start). Amy had agreed I’d be able to upgrade to a walking stick soon. But for now, I zoomed about with my walker.

I miss Luc.

I shushed the voice, knowing that path led to poor choices. Once healed, I’d work my month while they found a replacement and then take off.

I was the queen of the quick getaway, getting closer to Luc would be a mistake.

He was a stayer. I ran.

Luc was a keeper. I was disposable.

This option kept us both safe.

The reminders didn’t stop the pain I pretended didn’t exist.

“Emmie?”

I blinked, looking at Jarrett. “Sorry?”

His gaze sharp, his wise eyes knowing, he sighed. “I said I’ve got an update, if you’re interested.”

I nodded. “Sure. I mean, of course.”

I got what Jarrett dished out. This was his way of giving me an update on the investigation.

Following my release from hospital, I’d finally been briefed. The investigation into the shooting had ramped up. We suspected it related to Jetta, but the link wasn’t yet clear. The local police were sharing info thanks to our contract with the Australian Federal Police.

The story went like this: Jetta’s sister, Courtney, had become hooked on drugs. She’d gone in deep and now owed a large debt to a dealer by the name of Simon Esso. Esso had also been Jetta’s dad’s dealer back in the day. Turned out Esso had been sitting on the fact Jetta’s dad also owed him money. Jetta’s parents had tragically died in a car accident before the debt had been settled. Esso wanted his money.

These days, Esso operated out of four states. We knew about him as we knew about most crime figures in Australia, via our connections. When you worked in our line of business, you grew to know the big players. We’d had one or two run-ins with the guy previously, and each time Paxton had swiftly dealt with it. We were a good business, above board. We didn’t deal with shady creeps.

The current working theory was the shooting had been a warning, a reminder of the stakes. But so far, the evidence didn’t necessarily reflect a direct tie back to Jetta.

The cops had found the SUV abandoned and burnt out in bushland outside of Canberra. It’d been stolen. The occupants of the car were masked and covered, no identities. A dead end.

The bullet casings were from black-market firearms. One had matched a gun used in a previous drug-related shooting that’d been linked back to Esso. But it was weak. We were at a loss, the pieces of the puzzle hidden from us.

For the guys I worked with, this was an unacceptable outcome. They were working on the case 24/7 trying to come up with answers to all the questions.

And trying to protect Jetta.

Me? I wasn’t of value to anyone. A dispensable pawn in the broader game, I’d quickly been ruled out as an innocent bystander caught in the crossfire.

“Our friend got in contact. He’s ready to come home. Plans are in place, and our friends are organising the welcome.”

I nodded. I got it. We could only say so much in an insecure environment.

Translation? Brean O’Malley, one of our agents working undercover in Esso’s organisation wanted out. He’d been under for over a year. If he was calling, it meant the situation wasn’t good. Not good at all.

“When’s the party?”

“This weekend. After Jetta’s concert.”

With Courtney in rehab, Jetta had been forced to take her place in a reunion tour headed by the former band of Jetta’s parents’. It was all very sudden and seemed a bit strange to me. But all power to Jetta for facing her fears.

It’s more than you’ve ever done.

I squashed the little voice, turning back to Jarrett.

“Maybe I could–”

“It’s okay. People understand you’re unavailable.” Jarrett’s face