“What do you want?” Sean asked.
“I’m surprised you’re alert enough to know who it is,” Lucas said.
“There is something about your condescending stare. I can feel it on me like a load of maggots.”
This was classic Sean. He insulted others around him when he failed. “I take it a night at Ravage and you’re still nowhere near finding Isabella?” Saying her name still made his heart ache with wanting. She’d been so open and innocent. He knew if they ever found her it would be a miracle. If Lucas was honest with himself, he knew they’d never find her. She’d been taken by people who bought and sold women for sport. How she had managed to get mixed up with that he’d never know.
“What can I say? No one wants to talk to me. I’m getting close, I know.” Sean looked completely obsessed verging on mad. Moving closer into the room, Lucas almost threw up when he saw a pile of sick in the corner.
“You smell like an ashtray and look worse. Also, if you go back to the club asking questions James has said he’ll ban you from Ravage for good. You know how hard it is to get your application accepted. Don’t be an asshole, Sean. Stop causing trouble.”
“I’m close, Lucas. I’ll get her back. I promised you I’d get her back.”
Staring around him Lucas came to a decision. He stared at the man who used to be one of his dearest friends. “Sean. She’s not coming back. You’ve got to let it go.” He didn’t want to say the words. After five years without a word Lucas knew Isabella was lost to them. He hoped she was happy. He couldn’t bring himself to think of her dead in a ditch with no one caring to lay her to rest properly.
“Don’t say shit like that, Lucas. I’ll find her. Killing Dominic wasn’t the smartest move. I can feel we’re close.”
“She’s gone, Sean.”
“No. Don’t say crap like that to me. I’m going to get her back. Just give me more time.”
Lucas hated this. Staring round at the chaos, he knew his friend had lost all sense of reality. Sean needed to face the fact Isabella was gone and never coming back. “I know you don’t want to deal with this, but if you don’t stop looking, James and Stephen will ban you from the clubs. I’ve accepted she’s not coming back. You need to as well.”
Silence met his words. Lucas waited to see what the other man’s reactions would be. Sean threw the contents of the table all over the floor. His rage knew no bounds. Lucas stayed to watch the destruction. He knew Sean had to get this out. Isabella, his youngest sister, needed to be laid to rest even though it killed him to admit defeat.
“I never should have let her go,” Sean said, sinking to his knees amongst the mess.
“You did, and now she’s gone. Get yourself together. This is the last time I’m coming here.” He turned to leave then stopped. Fisting his hands at his side he glanced over his shoulder. “Isabella would hate to see you like this.” He left with his words ringing around Sean’s head. At least he hoped they were.
Chapter Three
At four o’clock Ursula let herself into Stephen’s house with the spare key he’d given her. She had no idea what happened to all the other cleaners he used to employ. There was no need to dwell on the other helpers. This job meant she could finish college and live comfortably. Or as comfortably as someone could with an abusive slob. She shuddered, thinking about the mess Paul had gotten himself into the night before.
She’d woken up to find him lying in the chair, cock out and splattered semen over the furniture.
If she didn’t faint at the sight of blood she’d have chopped his dick off to teach him a lesson about making a mess. Instead, she’d gotten immense pleasure out of smacking two saucepans together to wake him up. Petty emotions but a girl had to get her kicks out of something in life.
There hadn’t been a car in the driveway. She closed the door, put her coat and bag where Stephen had told her to. Walking through to the kitchen, she prepared some food then began to do the cleaning. Pulling out her phone, she put her headphones in her ears, turned on the music and began to dance. She loved dancing. Ursula moved round the house, cleaning, allowing the beat of the music to take over. Her singing voice left a lot to be desired, but with the music pounding in her ears she didn’t need to listen to the sound of her own voice.
She rocked her hips to the dance beat, singing as loud as she could. In one hand she held a feather duster, and with the other, she pretended to have a microphone to sing into.
In her rare solitary moments, she could pretend to be someone different. In her mind she didn’t have a lame-ass boyfriend or spend most of her time daydreaming about the future.