Thomas needs to escape. He leaves the room, heads straight to the bathroom, unzips his jeans and pisses straight into the small pool of water. As he watches it turn yellow he feels a buzzing in his jeans pocket. He takes out his phone and sees a notification from Grindr. He glances behind him, checking he locked the door. He did.

He opens the message.

Hello, handsome. I can’t stop thinking about you. Playing with myself as I type! :-O

Thomas smiles and welcomes the flood of blood back to his cock.

Chapter 22

22

ARCHER MANAGES THREE HOURS OF erratic sleep, which isn’t bad considering Grandad’s stroke and ‘The Forsaken’ murders are crowding her headspace. Dom’s infidelity is lobbying for attention; however, as hurt as she is, she doesn’t have the capacity to dwell on his cheating. There are much more important matters to deal with and she needs all her energies focused on preventing more deaths and stopping a killer. As far as she is concerned, their relationship is over.

She showers, dresses and feels a sharp sense of emptiness inside Grandad’s house without him chatting and pottering about the place. She calls the hospital and is pleased to hear he’s snoozing and comfortable after an early breakfast.

Archer exits the cottage and double locks the front door. Pulling up the collar of her coat, she leaves Roupell Street and makes the journey past the station and across the Golden Jubilee Bridge with other early morning commuters.

Her thoughts turn to the case. She needs quicker results, so longer working hours and weekends are going to be necessary at this rate. But extra hours are not the only thing that will solve this case. She needs to approach it differently. Work in a way she isn’t used to doing. How she is going to do that isn’t clear to her right now.

Her phone starts to ring as she reaches the top of Villiers Street and the Strand.

Dominic.

‘Shit!’

She considers ignoring it, but decides to get it over with. He won’t give up until they’ve talked.

Fat chance!

She presses answer and says, ‘You’ve got a nerve!’

She hears his voice, but it’s drowned out by a passing moped rider who glances at her as he whizzes by.

‘I can’t hear you. Give me a moment.’ She edges into Charing Cross train station’s front car park. ‘What did you say?’ A bus passes on the other side of the road followed by a moped who is turning into the car park.

‘I said, can we meet and talk?’ says Dominic.

Archer’s muscles tighten at the thought. ‘I don’t think so . . .’

Dom says something but the moped’s engine is revving nearby making it difficult to hear.

‘What? I can’t hear you?’

‘I said . . .’