Table of Contents

Title Page
COPYRIGHT
Tell No One
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
Epilogue
About the Author
 Tell No One

Barbara Elsborg
 COPYRIGHT

Tell No One is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places and incidents are the product
of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2022 by Barbara Elsborg

Cover design by B4Jay
Edited by Deco

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or transmitted in any manner
without written permission from Barbara Elsborg, except for brief quotations embodied in critical
articles and reviews. For all enquiries, please contact Barbara Elsborg at bjelsborg@gmail.com
Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person
depicted in the licensed material is a model.

Little note
Thanks to Rita, Vic, Jo, Petra, Angela and Ali for all their thoughts and comments! Extra special
thanks to Rita for ploughing through this several times. Any errors, as always, are mine. I’ve taken
liberties with a few legal procedures. In addition, the press would have been crawling all over what
happened so I’ve made it more secret than it probably would have been.
 Tell No One
It’s not every day that a total stranger asks Tag if he’s…ahem…well endowed. Of course he’s not
going to say no. When he’s offered a life-changing amount of money to go to a party, he’s not going to
say no to that either, even though he suspects sex will be involved. But sense prevails and Tag
decides to stick to his principles and not go, except things take an alarming turn. Suddenly,
he can’t say no. Not if he wants to see another day.

Tell no one. Trust no one. The unbreakable rules that keep Delaney alive. He’s got a role to play at
this so-called party, but the cheeky upstart who’s supposed to be part of his cover seems to be going
out of his way to be as aggravating as possible. When Delaney finally registers that unlike the rest of
the entertainment, Tag isn’t a willing participant, they join forces and set in motion a chain of events
that leads to them both running for their lives.

Tag might be one of the most irritating guys Delaney has ever met, but his resolute cheerfulness and
bravery begin to have an unexpected effect as Tag worms his way through Delaney’s defences.
Keeping him safe now seems the most important job Delaney’s ever had. Suddenly the operative
who’s never trusted anyone finds himself letting Tag into his heart. And wishing for a future that can
never be.
 Prologue

A month ago

Three of them in the room and Delaney wondered who would be the first to break the silence.
Probably not his boss Henry, a grey-haired man in his late fifties. More likely the cocky arsehole in
Armani sitting next to him. Anthony Barker was an arrogant prick who Delaney had clashed with
before. Often. Barker had just outlined what this job would entail and hadn’t tried to hide that
Delaney had not been the first choice. Delaney didn’t see why he shouldn’t have been, not that he
wanted to do it, though that wouldn’t be something he’d admit.
“Well?” Barker drawled. “Do you think you can do it?”
Delaney wouldn’t be here if he couldn’t. They knew that, and he knew that. Though he had
expected to have a longer break before he’d been given another assignment. A year spent largely
undercover had taken its toll.
“Of course he can do it.” Henry stared straight at him, a half-smile on his face.
“You were selected because of your ability with languages,” Barker said. “But really—”
“For my good looks?”
Barker glared. Henry laughed.
“Norbury’s superstitious,” Henry said. “That might come in handy.”
Delaney nodded.
“Are you in?” Henry asked.
He could have said no. Delaney wasn’t sure how much longer he wanted to carry on with this
anyway, but he’d never been good at resisting the chance to piss off Barker. Plus, parts of this job
were potentially dangerous and Delaney was addicted to the adrenaline rush. Barker not wanting him
on the job made the decision easier than it should have been.
“Yes. I’m in.”
 1
Tag carefully carried the plate of food over to the customer at the corner table. This well-dressed,
well-spoken, well-built man in his forties looked as though he might be a big tipper. Then again,
looking as if someone should tip a lot meant nothing. Sometimes the least likely looking person,
who’d picked the cheapest item on the menu, tipped more generously than someone who chose steak
and the most expensive wine.
“Here we go,” Tag said in his I’m a cheerful waiter voice. “Beer-battered fish, double cooked
chips, petit pois and homemade tartare sauce.”
“Is it homemade?”
That’s what it said on the menu but Tag had seen the catering container in the kitchen. ‘No,’ he
mouthed and said, “Absolutely. Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?”
Sir wasn’t a word that fell easily from his lips, and in a pub like this, the sort of thing Tag might
have got teased about, but this customer looked like he’d appreciate being called sir.
“Such as?” He raised one eyebrow.
“Vinegar, ketchup, another drink, more tartare sauce?” Tag smiled. “Maybe some bread and
butter?”
“There is one thing.”
Tag waited.
The guy looked up at him. “Do you have a big cock?”
For a moment, Tag convinced himself he must have misheard. He took a moment to think what the
man might have actually asked. Something about a rock? A sock? In stock? But when the guy glanced
at Tag’s crotch, then looked up at Tag’s face, Tag decided his ears hadn’t been deceiving him. He’d
never been asked that question before.
“I usually expect a bit more foreplay conversation-wise.”
Tag hoped for a laugh but didn’t get one.
“Do you?”
“Well, yes. Like—you have a lovely arse or are you doing anything later because I have
something in mind or look how happy all of me is to see you.”
The guy rolled his eyes. “Do you have a big cock?”
Tag was fairly sure he was blushing. He hadn’t been hunting for compliments. This guy wasn’t his
type. Shit, he wants an answer. Tag’s cock wasn’t huge, but it definitely wasn’t small. Oh fuck it.
“Why do you want to know?”
“I’d like to invite you to a party. If you’d walked away in a huff after that question, then you
wouldn’t have been suitable…a suitable guest. I’m looking for a good-looking young man with an
open mind, a big cock and—a lovely arse— who’d like to make some money.”
“Too late with the arse comment.”
That did get him a laugh. Tag’s thoughts flashed onto exactly what this party would entail. Sex,
probably drugs and…more sex.
“Whatever you’re thinking, you’re probably wrong.”
Tag was pretty sure he was right. Sex in some form or another. Young guys for older rich guys to
fuck. Although he was flattered to be called good-looking, he wasn’t flattered to think that he looked
like someone who’d fuck for money. Not going to happen. But he was still standing there, wasn’t he?
He hadn’t flounced off feeling insulted.
“How would you like to earn a guaranteed thousand pounds for a night’s work? Cash. Quite
probably it will be a few hundred more than that.”
Fucking hell. That was a lot of money, especially to someone who worked for minimum wage.
Tag had never been paid for sex, never been forced to sink that low. But more than a thousand
pounds! He didn’t feel bad about wavering. “Is it legal?”
“Yes. Assuming you declare your earnings to the Inland Revenue.” The guy smiled, though the
smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Dangerous?”
“No.”
But you are. Tag’s instincts told him that.
“Drugs?” Tag asked quietly.
“Entirely your choice.”
Not illegal. Not dangerous. There must be something else Tag should be asking. Why him? Well,
that had sort of been answered. He looked suitable. What was this party really about? What would he
have to do? What if it was something he wasn’t prepared to do?
Thoughts of a thousand pounds began to swamp his concerns. That amount of money would make
a significant difference to his life. He could buy a contract for three months at Our Pottery Barn
Cooperative and have enough left over to buy clay and more tools. It could be the start of the life he
wanted, making a living doing something he loved. His brain started to fizz with excitement.
So much for not stooping to sell himself for sex. All he’d needed to be persuaded was to be
offered enough money. A one-off. What could it hurt? No one would know. Only me. Tag was good at
keeping secrets.
“Nothing without a condom,” Tag whispered.
“Agreed.”
“Okay then.” His heart jumped into his throat.
“What size shoes do you take?”
Another weird question. “Ten and a half.”
“What’s your name?”
“Tag.”
“Write your address down, Tag.”
Tag carefully wrote his address on the piece of paper put in front of him.
“A black Lexus will be waiting outside your place at six on Saturday. You’ll be given your money
on Sunday. Don’t tell anyone, or else.”
The guy might have smiled, crinkling up his eyes and wagging his finger, but Tag wasn’t sure he
liked that or else. Or the smile that still wasn’t right. I can sense he’s dangerous and I still said yes.
I’m a fool.
By the time he was back in the kitchen, he’d almost convinced himself he’d imagined the whole
thing. But when he came back out with another order, the man was still there, tucking into his meal.
Tag felt stupid. He shouldn’t have said yes. He shouldn’t have given his address to a stranger. He had
no idea what he was letting himself in for.
Well, yeah, he did. He’d already sussed that out. It had to be something to do with sex, but what?
For a thousand pounds, did he care? Wasn’t he always moaning to himself about being bored with his
life? There wasn’t much he hadn’t tried sex-wise, thanks to a series of one night—or shorter—hook-
ups. Though he wasn’t into the extremes. No fisting, watersports, breath play, bondage, BDSM in
general, having anything stuck up his dick, or anything other than a cock or a normal-sized dildo stuck
up his arse… Christ. There was a lot he wasn’t into, but all he had to do was say no, didn’t he?
 Am I that naïve?
So, it was a risk and he’d think some more over whether he wanted to take it.

When the guy paid the bill, he tucked a twenty-pound note into Tag’s shirt pocket. “Just for you.
Make yourself look nice for the party.”
Unfortunately, eagle-eyed, vindictive bastard, Bernard the Creep, the pub manager Justin’s
boyfriend, and a jealous, fucking arsehole of a dickwad, had seen what the guy did, and the next thing
Tag knew, he was being sacked for not sharing tips.
“You know the rules,” Justin told him.
“But you didn’t give me the chance to share it,” Tag protested. Though he had walked past the tip
jar and not put it in. Nor had he intended to, but that was beside the point.
“Collect your wages at the end of the night and you’re done.”
Tag really wished he could have chucked a pint all over Justin and Bernard, and flounced out
there and then, but he couldn’t. Justin took the twenty pounds off him and put it in the jar. A pain
started up in Tag’s heart but he kept his feelings hidden. Life was sometimes shitty, but things would
get better. He’d look for another job tomorrow. Justin had been itching for a reason to get rid of him,
purely because Bernard didn’t like him, and it hurt because Tag did a good job. He was friendly,
worked hard and never complained. He didn’t know what more he could do.
At the end of his shift, when everything was cleaned up, he went to see Justin. His wages were
handed over, but not his share of the tips. Tag didn’t bother objecting. He’d nicked twenty quid out of
Bernard’s wallet. Served him right. If Tag could have got at Justin’s, he’d have taken money from him
too because he’d still lost out on tips.
On the bus home, Tag was torn between being pissed off he had no job and curiosity over what
this party was about, along with why his shoe size had been needed. He was conveniently ignoring
that having a big cock seemed to be a requirement too. Now he’d lost his job, the thousand pounds
couldn’t be used on studio space. Instead, it would have to pay his rent until he found somewhere else
to work.
If he ended up needing money, there was always a fallback position and that wasn’t selling
himself. His principles about theft were more fluid. Sleight of hand was a skill, except he wished
he’d never been made to learn how to do it and that his life had taken a different path.
He got off the bus on the high street and headed towards the HMO, house of multiple occupation,
where he rented the smallest of four rooms, the only one downstairs. Four people and their occasional
girlfriends and boyfriends shared a kitchen and two bathrooms. Tag cleaned the downstairs bathroom
because otherwise he wasn’t sure he could have used it. Since the others were too lazy to go upstairs
to take a piss, what he thought of as his bathroom was used more than he’d have liked. But the place
was cheap and convenient, and until Tag could afford better, which seemed a long way off, he was
stuck.
Tag kicked off his shoes, picked them up and unlocked the door to his room. There was enough
light shining in from the lamppost to see someone sitting on his bed. Tag turned to run, only to find his
way blocked. A hand clamped over his mouth and he was bundled further into his room with his heart
trying to get out of his chest. The shoes fell from his hands. Who’s found me? What did I do to give
myself away? What are they going to do?
The man on the bed stood up. “Keep quiet, sit down and listen. We’re not here to hurt you.”
Words that gave Tag a glimmer of hope this might not be what he’d thought it was. The door was
closed, the light switched on and he was pushed down onto the rickety chair where he usually slung
his clothes. He was surprised it didn’t collapse beneath him the way he slumped on it. He thought
about yelling for help, but was pretty sure everyone was out celebrating a housemate’s birthday. So
what did these guys want? Had Bernard noticed his wallet was twenty pounds light and sent his
friends after him? But Bernard wouldn’t have friends like these two. They were hard men in smart
suits, the sort Tag would have crossed the road to avoid.
The bruiser-type who’d stopped him leaving stood with his back to the door, his arms crossed.
The other, a posh-sounding blond, stood in front of Tag. “How much were you offered?”
This was about what had happened in the pub? He’d been told not to tell anyone, but these two
already knew so Tag had no incentive to lie. “A thousand pounds, maybe more.”
“Fallen on your feet, haven’t you, rent boy? More like on your back. And your knees.”
Posh Git was pushing Tag’s buttons. “I’m not a rent boy.”
The scoff of disbelief had Tag clenching his fists.
“Why else would you be paid so much to go to a party?”
A party that Tag didn’t want to go to anymore. He wasn’t a violent guy but he wanted to punch this
smirking fucker. What the hell was this about?
“I want to offer you a job.”
Tag gasped in shock. Had any of this evening actually happened? He’d probably been knocked
down by a bus on the way to work and was dreaming he’d been offered a huge amount of money to go
to a weird party where shoe and cock size mattered and these guys were not in his room offering him
a job when he’d just lost his.
But they were.
“Doing what?” It didn’t hurt to ask.
“Going to a party.”
Tag almost laughed. Then he put two and two together, after a fashion. “What do you want me to
do at this party?”
“You’ll be cover for one of my men. There’s going to be an auction. He’ll buy you. You’ll say or
pretend he’s with you whether he is or not.”
Uh? Tag refrained from rolling his eyes. “Is he the invisible man?”
Bruiser grabbed the front of Tag’s shirt and yanked him to his feet. A fist in Tag’s stomach
doubled him over. “Don’t be a smart-arse.” He shoved Tag down again and the chair gave an ominous
creak.
“There’s no need…to hit me,” Tag gasped.
“Just concentrating your mind.” Posh Git smiled. “Three thousand pounds to be whatever they
want you to be, to do whatever my guy wants you to do. Do we have a deal?”
Three thousand pounds? What the fuck?
Why did Tag think he didn’t have a choice? “I assume you don’t want the other man to know about
this.”
“So you’re not just a pretty face. But if you want to keep that pretty face…”
Fuck you! “Do I get to keep his thousand too?”
The man nodded.
Wow! “Okay then.” Tag sighed. “We have a deal.”
Tag blinked as Bruiser took his picture.
“Don’t let me down,” said Posh Git. “Wherever you go, we can find you, Tag Blake. Formerly
known as Rufus Connelly.”
Oh Jeez. Tag was relieved he was sitting down, relieved he didn’t wet himself.
 “Close your eyes.”
It was the last thing Tag wanted to do, but he closed them. He heard them leave and when he
peeked under his lids, he saw he was alone. For the first time in his life, Tag wished he had a tiny
cock. Though would he have admitted it? Jesus Christ! What had he gotten himself into?

Three days of looking for a job and another place to live were hampered by surges of acute
anxiety over what Saturday would bring and a couple of proper panic attacks over how his visitors
had known the name he was born with. Those guys had got into the house and into his room without
even breaking a lock. Tag didn’t feel safe there anymore.
Was he delusional to think he’d ever managed to hide? The only people who knew his name and
where he lived were supposed to look out for him, though Tag had always wondered how much they
cared. Still, he could have called one of them and… Said what? Done what? He had to disappear
again and this time he wouldn’t be telling anyone his new address, even though he was supposed to.
By Saturday morning, Tag was jumping at everything and had to give himself a stern talking to. He
was in this situation now, for better or worse. He wasn’t going to run until he’d got his four thousand
pounds. That amount of money would let him run.
How long had he been wishing for a miracle, hoping for something to happen that would allow
him to change his life? Fair enough, he’d been thinking of a lottery win, or saving some rich bloke
from being hit by a car, or a billionaire falling in love with him, but finally, something had happened.
He had the chance of getting his hands on four thousand pounds. Maybe more. That was what he had
to concentrate on and forget that he was now involved with people who knew his other name.
Because if they knew that, they knew everything he was trying to hide.

***

Tag stared at himself in the mirror. He’d taken a lot of trouble getting ready for this party: trimmed
and buffed his nails, even his toenails, cleaned his teeth, flossed, shaved, and prepped himself as well
as he could in every conceivable way and possibly in a few that couldn’t be conceived of by most
people. He’d even nipped to the upstairs bathroom and helped himself to some of Sarah’s expensive
hair conditioner that no one was supposed to touch on pain of death, and now his hair kept flopping
over his eyes. Kind of annoying, but it also looked cute and he did smell nice. His body probably
didn’t know what had hit it. He grinned. Then tried again. He had to pretend better than that.
Since he didn’t expect to be keeping his clothes on, he hadn’t wasted money buying anything new.
He was wearing his faded black jeans that hung a little too low on his hips but showcased his arse, a
tight, pale-grey T-shirt and his beloved black military jacket, the first item of clothing he’d saved up
to buy. Since the twosome had paid him a visit, he hadn’t been able to find his imitation Converse, so
he had to wear his knock-off Vans. How can I lose shoes? Had his visitors taken them? Why? It
made no sense.
He practised another smile in the mirror. I’d do me. I’m exactly the type I like. Dark eyes with
lashes thick enough to make it appear as though he wore eyeliner—though he never had—dark hair,
tanned skin—all over—thank you flat roof at the last place he’d lived, and long legs. His bottom teeth
were a bit wonky, he was too skinny and he had a nervous habit of swallowing a lot when he was
super-anxious—but he looked okay. An average twenty-four-year-old.
Though he wasn’t. Nowhere near it.
 He hadn’t looked okay enough to convince his one and only boyfriend to stick around. Maybe he
ought to give up on the idea of a happy ever after. He didn’t deserve one. Ah shit. His confidence
plummeted, his head and shoulders dropped and his heart fell. I’m a worthless piece of shit. That’s
all I’ll ever be.
What had happened to him wasn’t fair but it had happened and he had to deal with it. Except some
days he dealt with it better than others. Tag only allowed reality to intrude when he was alone in his
room. His safe place, except now it wasn’t. But once he walked out the door, he pretended he ruled
the world. No one could see inside his head. He could be whatever he liked. All he had to do was
play whatever game this was for twenty-four hours. Maybe less. If he didn’t like the way things were
going, and some creepy dude bought him at the auction, he’d bail. He’d come back here, pack his stuff
and get a bus to somewhere he’d never been to before.
What if you can’t bail?
Tag rubbed his neck. He was resourceful and a fast runner. He was a survivor. After what he’d
endured, he could cope with anything.
At one minute to six, he walked out of the house with a smile plastered on his face. I can do this.
He had his almost empty wallet in his jacket pocket along with his phone and keys. He’d left his debit
card and most of his cash in his room, just in case. The car was there and Tag headed towards it. He
was a little apprehensive, but that was a good thing. It kept him alert. Being street-smart had saved
him on several occasions.
A Middle-Eastern-looking driver got out and opened the rear door.
Tag climbed inside. “Thanks.”
No answer. Tag clipped on his seat belt and settled into the soft cream leather. The car smelt
good. He hadn’t been inside a car for ages and never in one like this. “How long is it going to take to
get there?”
“An hour.”
Tag sighed and stared out of the window. He should have brought a book.
Another lad joined them a couple of miles later, collected from the foot of a tower block.
“Hi. I’m Tag.”
“Billy.”
Billy had a lot of teeth and a sweet rounded face. His straight blond hair, parted in the middle, fell
all the way to his shoulders. Not Tag’s type, but good-looking. Billy also bit his nails. All the time.
He was bigger than Tag with muscular arms that strained the material of his shirt.
“Have you done this before?” Tag asked.
“No talking,” the driver said.
Tag stuck out his tongue and Billy smiled.
“What do you do for a living?” Tag asked.
“I said no talking.” This time the driver snapped the order.
Tag frowned. “How are you going to stop us talking? What harm are we doing just having a
conversation?”
“You’re annoying me. It’s not a good idea to annoy me.”
Tag opened his mouth to say something else and felt Billy’s hand settle on his knee for a moment,
a warning look on his face. Tag winked and started to sing Hosier’s Take Me To Church. Billy
smothered a laugh. Tag wailed loudly on the amens and caught the driver’s eye in the mirror. Tag
never did know when it was better to keep quiet. But he did know when it was good idea to stop
pushing. Sometimes.
 “You’ve got a great voice,” Billy whispered.
“Thanks.”

Tag spotted the name of their destination chiselled on a stone slab as they went through large
metal gates. Harborne House. They’d come through a village called Harborne about a mile back. Tag
had kept a close eye on the route that had brought them to Surrey. He always had a variety of plans
ready for when things didn’t go as he wanted or expected. Mostly run, run or run, but he and Billy
weren’t being taken over water to a boat where the only way off was to swim—which would have
been bad news, or to a rundown warehouse miles from anywhere. Harborne House was within reach
of civilisation. If Tag was concerned, he could just leg it. And say goodbye to the money? Yeah well,
live to fuck up another day or die with money in his pockets? Hardly a difficult choice.
There was rolling grassland either side of the tree-lined drive they were travelling down, sheep
grazing on one side. Harborne House turned out to be a large Georgian mansion built of pale London
brick with wisteria artfully climbing over a third of the frontage. The cascades of bluey-purple
flowers seemed to be eating the house, though the building looked immaculate.
They were taken around the back where the guy from the pub stood waiting. He wore a white
shirt, black tie, open black waistcoat and black trousers, and Tag thought it looked like some sort of
uniform. Billy climbed out first and as Tag went to join him, the driver yanked Tag back and pinned
him against the car.
“Now you want to shut me up?” Tag leaned in as if he were going to kiss him. Though his knee
was ready for action.
“You’re a disobedient little shit,” his captor said through gritted teeth. “And you’re going to find
out what happens to disobedient little shits.” He laughed, then shoved Tag towards Billy.
Tag pretended to stumble, then unnecessarily straightened his jacket as he came upright. “That’s
abuse! What’s your name? I’m going to report you.”
The driver stepped towards him, murder in his eyes.
“Kareem! Leave him,” the man with Billy called.
“Nice to meet you, Cream.” Tag fluttered his eyelashes, then joined Billy.
“Ayreh Feek!” Kareem called.
Tag turned to look at him. “Ah, that’s okay. Thanks for apologising. I forgive you.” Kareem had
yelled out fuck you. Tag knew a bit of Arabic. Well, the swear words mostly. Though he regretted
drawing Kareem’s attention. I am so stupid. The number of times he’d been told to tone himself down
and he always failed. Still, he had to take his fun where he could find it and he wasn’t a fucking
pushover.
“Did I make a mistake when I chose you?” asked the guy from the pub.
“No, sir,” Tag said.
“What did you do to piss off Kareem?”
“I sang Take Me To Church.”
Billy snorted and that earned him a glare.
“When you were told to keep quiet?”
“Told not to talk. Didn’t say not to sing.” Tag shrugged.
“Follow the rules all the time. Come with me.”
“What’s your name?” Tag asked as they walked to the house.
“Master.”
Tag gulped and exchanged a look with Billy, but hadn’t Tag half-guessed that BDSM would be
part of this? For a thousand pounds it had to be. This was never going to be just sex. He only hoped
whatever it turned out to be wasn’t too much to cope with. There were rules within BDSM. The
Master had mentioned rules. But would everyone follow them?
“What happens if I forget to call you Master?” Tag asked.
“What else might you call me?” The guy opened the door and gestured for them to go in.
“Mistress?” Tag said as he passed.
Billy made a choked sound, but the man laughed. At least he had a sense of humour. Tag cheered
up.
He kept his mouth shut as they were led up wooden stairs that maybe servants would have once
used, and on into a largish room where there were other guys, some dressed, some naked. Everyone
fell silent as they entered.
“Joshua, you take care of Tag and Billy.”
“Thank you, Master,” Tag said.
The guy sighed, caught Tag’s arm and twisted him in close. “Be careful. I can tell the difference
between sarcasm and deference. That mouth is going to get you into trouble.”
Tag was pushed in Joshua’s direction. He looked to be in his thirties and was wearing the same as
the others who were clothed, black polo shirts and black chinos. Maybe black was the house colour.
Joshua looked them up and down. “Both of you strip. Put your gear in your box. Phones switched
off, and in the box, too.”
“You’re not offering me dinner or a drink first?” Tag took the box that was thrust at him and put it
on the floor.
“You can have a drink in a minute.”
Tag stripped. No point in playing coy. He wasn’t anyway.
“Until the bidding is over, you both do exactly as I say. Understand?”
Billy nodded. “Yeah.”
Maybe they were going to be required to wear nothing but high-heeled shoes and parade on a
catwalk. I can do that. I quite fancy that. Tag had tried on Sarah’s Everest-like heels for a bet and
had been the only one who could walk in them. He’d done better than Sarah, which had pissed her off.
“You’re not going to be able to have anything to eat or drink for a while.” Joshua handed them
glasses of what looked like Fanta. Billy guzzled his. Tag hesitated.
“One single thing that you don’t comply with and you’re gone,” Joshua said.
Tag mentally crossed his fingers and drank. It tasted like fizzy orange, but he didn’t drink it all.
Well, not until Joshua stared at him. Tag handed him the empty glass. Oh God what was in that?
Joshua looked them up and down. “Stand here and wait.”
Tag glanced around. Everyone clothed had left. Tag wandered across the room. Those without
clothes all looked to be in their early twenties. Dark hair, blonds, red heads, short and tall, slim and
chubby. It was a real selection.
“What’s going on? Does anyone know?” Tag asked.
A couple of black guys laughed.
“You’ll find out,” one of them said. “I’m not going to spoil the surprise.”
“I’m Tag. What are your names?”
“He’s Nasir. I’m Juma.”
Juma’s skin was beautiful, dark and smooth and shiny. He was taller than Tag and just as lean. His
cock was enormous. Tag didn’t want to be caught checking out everyone’s cock, but a glance around
told him they were all a fair size, no one was small. The one thing they had in common.
 “Have you done this before then?” Tag asked.
“A few times.” Juma smiled and ran his fingers down Tag’s hairless chest.
“And we have fun?”
“Oh yeah.”
“And it doesn’t hurt?”
“No.”
That was a relief. “Good to know we survive. I didn’t taste cyanide in the orange.” Tag laughed
and kept still as Juma’s fingers approached his cock.
“Why would they poison us?” Juma said. “Just do as you’re told and you’ll enjoy it.” He flicked
Tag’s cock, then slapped him on the backside.
Tag chuckled and went back to where he’d been told to stand. Billy hadn’t moved. Typical that
Tag had broken the rules straight away. The door opened a moment later and the guys came back in
carrying armfuls of stuff. Tag took a moment to get his head around what was slung over shoulders
and held in hands. It was the hooves that gave it away.
Fucking hell.
 2
Joshua laid everything he’d been carrying at Tag and Billy’s feet and Tag took a deep breath. If
any of that was intended to go over his face, it wasn’t going to happen. That was a hard no from him,
though he didn’t spot any horses’ heads among the leather straps and fur fabric.
“What’s all this stuff?” Billy asked.
God, Billy, how thick are you?
“You have to dress up,” Joshua said. “Pony play. Ever done it?”
“No. What the hell is pony play?” Billy’s eyes were wide.
“Exactly what it sounds like. You pretend to be ponies.” Joshua turned to Tag. “Have you done it
before?”
“I’ve done T-rex play and koala play, but not pony play.” And he’d never wanted to. He didn’t
want to now.
“T-rex play?” Billy gaped at him.
“I was joking.” Though Tag wouldn’t be surprised if someone had tried it.
Joshua laughed. “Right. You need to put the hooves on first to get used to them. They’re basically
high-heeled boots without the heel, but they’re made in a way that makes them relatively easy to walk
in.”
So am I bailing or not?
Joshua sat a bemused Billy down and helped him put on the hoof-boots. They went up to mid-calf,
clung tightly to his skin and were covered in cream fur fabric. And looked strangely hot. Tag chuckled
to himself. Maybe he had a kink he hadn’t known about. Getting dressed up as a horse wasn’t going to
kill him. He didn’t have to be into it to play the game. That was all this was. A game with a big prize.
Then it was his turn. His boots were covered in black fur. They were tight but not uncomfortable,
though he suspected his legs would quickly start aching because it would be like walking on tiptoe.
Looking down at his…hooves felt surreal. They actually looked like a horse’s hooves, right shape and
everything.
“The pair of you stand up,” Joshua said.
Tag pushed carefully to his feet. Billy struggled at his side, but finally made it upright. They both
towered over Joshua.
“They’re weighted at the back so you should balance,” Joshua said. “Try and walk.”
Billy bent his knees and took a wobbly step forward.
“Stand upright.” Joshua took hold of Billy’s arm.
Tag straightened up and rocked slightly before he tried to walk. It was strange to have nothing
under his heels especially when it felt as if there was something there. It was a matter of having to
trust that he wouldn’t fall back, but also being careful not to fall forward. Either way, he might break
an ankle.
“You have to walk in a different way,” Joshua said. “Plant your foot flat, and don’t take too big a
step.”
It turned out to be easier than Tag had thought it would be. Billy was struggling.
“Think about how women walk and try and do the same,” Joshua told him.
Tag made his way round the room, looking at those who were walking with no problem and those
who weren’t. By the time he was back with Joshua, he felt relatively comfortable, as if he’d been
walking around naked wearing hooves all his life. Ha!
“When you run, you need to remember that you still have to plant your foot flat on the ground.
Don’t go too fast or lean too far forward or you’ll fall. You can do a sort of hop as you’re striding.”
Tag hadn’t got his head past the word run. Walking was one thing, but running?
“You look hot.” Billy smiled at Tag and reached for his face.
“No touching,” Joshua snapped and then as he looked down at the equipment he’d carried in, he
sucked in a breath. “Ah.”
“What?” Tag asked.
“They want you in the long forearms.” He held up two fur-covered, glove-like rubber tubes with
hooves attached.
Tag gulped.
“If either of you need to take a leak, better do it now,” Joshua said.
“I’m okay,” Billy said.
Tag shook his head. “I’m fine.” I am most definitely not fine. He was going to be having words
about this with…someone. Most likely himself. “Will you scratch my balls if I get an itch?”
“I will,” Billy said.
“Don’t you dare touch me with your hooves!” Tag laughed.
“I could use my tongue.” Billy smiled at him.
“Not allowed,” Joshua said.
Of course it wasn’t.
Joshua squirted lube onto Billy and Tag’s hands. “Rub it on your arms. These are supposed to fit
tightly. Inside the glove, there’s a small bar about halfway down that you need to wrap your fingers
around. Then, when you have the hooves on the ground, you’ll be supporting your weight on your fists
with the rigid part below.”
Uh? Then Tag registered he was going to have to walk bent over on all fours.
Tag slid one hand into the rubber tube and Joshua pulled the glove up until Tag felt the bar and put
his fingers around it. Below that was around sixty rigid centimetres of something covered by black
fur, then the hoof. The fur disguised the thicker section where Tag’s fist was trapped so that it really
did look like his arm had transformed into a horse’s foreleg.
Joshua tightened a hidden strap above Tag’s wrist. “That will keep it on.”
A lump formed in Tag’s throat. He stayed silent as Joshua fitted the other glove. I don’t like this. I
really don’t like it. He was shocked by how helpless he felt. Worse than being in handcuffs. He didn’t
like feeling so vulnerable. It reminded him of stuff he was always trying to forget. Though it helped
that nine others in the room were in the same position. None of them were freaking out, so he
wouldn’t. A lot of money if I do this! A new start in a different city! That was all he needed to
remember.
Looking down and seeing hooves at the end of his arms and legs was one of the strangest things
he’d ever experienced. The weight of the glove-hooves pulling on his arms made him want to plant
them on the floor.
He watched as Billy went through the same as he had, but Billy was smiling and laughing, and
didn’t seem bothered about how little he could do with both his hands imprisoned. No opening any
doors, picking anything up, wiping his arse or scratching anyone’s balls. Did he not care or had he not
thought through the implications? The only thing Tag could do, was flail with his arms and smack
someone with his hooves. Kicking out would probably land him on his back.
“Now what?” Tag asked. Maybe he should have made the point earlier about not having his face
covered before he’d let things get this far, before he’d let this get anywhere, before he’d fucking said
yes! Twice!
 Just think of the money. He wasn’t just a pony, he was an undercover pony, which should have
made him laugh, but didn’t.
When Joshua put him in a leather halter with sticking-up ears, Tag realised there wouldn’t be any
complete head covering and he sighed with relief. Though there were still a lot of leather straps and
rings attached to his head and neck, and Tag began to feel uneasy again.
“Okay?” Joshua asked.
He nodded. Money, money, money.
As more leather straps were fastened around his chest and hips, Tag noticed that Billy’s cock was
thickening, and Joshua had a bulge in his chinos. Tag’s cock was being sensible for once. Just hanging
around with his two mates, and worrying.
Billy had a little trot with all four legs on the ground and tossed his hair.
“Looking good, Billy,” Joshua told him.
Billy trotted back and stood upright. His cock was even harder. Tag’s wasn’t even thinking about
it.
“A few more things,” Joshua said.
Tag sighed when he saw what Joshua had picked up. Well, he should have guessed there’d be
tails. Silicon butt plugs with a long length of black hair for him and blond for Billy.
“Real horse hair.” Joshua let it run through his fingers.
“Wonderful.” Tag was staring at the butt plugs that Joshua had started to lube. He didn’t
particularly want Joshua to be the one sticking it up his arse. “Put it on the stool and I’ll sit on it.”
“Okay.”
Tag gritted his teeth and with some difficulty positioned himself over the black plug. Do it, do it,
do it. He took a deep breath and gradually allowed it into his body, sinking down until it was all the
way in, then slowly standing up. The sensation was not as sexual as it might have been. He’d played
with a dildo before but not one with a tail attached. He felt the horse hair brush the back of his knees
and swallowed hard several times. This is so weird.
Joshua was busy sliding Billy’s plug backward and forwards into his arse and they were both
breathing heavily.
“Oh God,” Billy mumbled.
Tag looked away before he got turned on.
“I have to…strap them in place,” Joshua mumbled. “I need to fasten the ring around them to the
harnesses on your hips so keep still.”
Joshua did Billy’s first then turned to Tag. There was a tug as the plug was buckled in place and
somehow it felt as if it was seated even more deeply in Tag’s body. If he hadn’t been in a room with
guys all enduring the same thing as him, he might have… Well, it was academic. He had to go through
with this. Pretending to be a pony for a few hours for a thousand pounds and doing whatever this
bloke who was going to buy him wanted for another three thousand? No way was he pulling out. A
few of the ponies were laughing now, swishing their tails. Do I have to fucking look as if I like it?
Maybe I should.
When he saw the Master come into the room, Tag kept his gaze down. Joshua tightened a strap
around Tag’s neck, and Tag yelped.
“Not too tight,” he gasped.
“Can you breathe?” The Master put a riding crop under Tag’s limp cock and lifted it.
Tag didn’t answer and the crop smacked against his hip.
“Ouch. Yes, I can breathe. Sir.”
 “If you’re asked a direct question, you answer. Otherwise keep your mouth shut.” He turned to
Joshua. “Get the leather rings on their cock and balls. Keep them loose. They can be tightened later.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Don’t put Tag’s bit in yet. Let’s see if he can keep his mouth closed.”
Tag opened his mouth wide, then shut it again.
The Master laughed. “You’re going to be challenging.” He caught hold of the loose rein around
Tag’s neck and pulled him close. “I like punishing naughty ponies, breaking them is fun. Do your
worst, pony. Make my day.”
Tag had to fight not to tremble. When the Master moved away, Tag exhaled.
He wasn’t happy about the leather cock ring, but at least it wasn’t tight. Billy’s erect cock reared
up against his stomach, the leather already biting around the base, his balls swollen either side of the
dividing strap. When Tag saw the bit going into Billy’s mouth, he cringed. It was made of rubber and
metal and it looked brutal, pulling his mouth unnaturally wide. Joshua hung an identical one from the
ring at Tag’s cheek.
Why would anyone want to do this? Apart from for money?
“Final thing.” Joshua picked up a stencil of the number six and carefully marked Billy’s left arse
cheek, then put the number seven on Tag’s. To think he thought seven was his lucky number. Now he’d
always associate it with this.
“You need to be harder,” Joshua said at Tag’s ear. “I don’t know why you’re not. Look at the
others. They all have erections.”
Out of sight of everyone, Joshua wrapped a lubed hand around Tag’s cock and began to slide it up
and down. Tag tried to pull back and Joshua grabbed his shoulder.
“Don’t disappoint them and you’ll get asked back,” Joshua whispered. “There’s all sorts of events
held here. You can earn good money.” He breathed into Tag’s neck and increased the speed of his fist.
“That’s it, pony. Good pony. There you go. There you go.”
Stupid cock. Stupid, stupid cock.
Joshua sprang away with a smirk on his face, wiped the lube off his fingers, then tightened the
leather encircling Tag’s cock and balls. Tag’s cock was now erect like everyone else’s. All he felt
was shame.
The Master banged the crop against the door and Tag jumped.
“You are Harborne House ponies and I expect you to behave appropriately. Follow me out of the
room in number order on all four legs. You will be examined, sold and raced. Whoever wins you is
free to do whatever he likes to you for the next twelve hours. You do not speak unless requested to do
so. You obey every order you’re given. You do not disgrace Harborne House. Is that understood?”
Everyone nodded and Tag just remembered in time to do the same thing and not speak. He wasn’t
entirely sure why he was being spared the bit for the moment, but he was going to make the most of it.
“If any of you should think about misbehaving…” The Master took a tool from his pocket and held
it in the air. It looked like a pair of pliers but was wider at one end where an elastic band stretched
across two points. He walked down the line showing it to each of them. “It’s called an elastrator.”
Tag did not like the sound of that. Goose bumps raced down his spine.
The Master stopped next to him. He looked straight at Tag. “It’s used to put a very tight band just
above your balls. Which take between one and twelve hours to die.”
Jesus Christ in a handcart! This was only playing, right? A weird sort of playing, but… Tag
gulped.
A collective shudder went round the room.
 “Christof screamed louder than I’ve ever heard anyone scream.” The Master stared at Tag. “Be
the best pony you can be.”
Tag risked a quiet neigh and the Master nodded. Oh God, you weirdo.
“Any questions?” the guy asked.
How was anyone supposed to speak and make themselves understood with a bit in their mouth?
But the others shook their heads so Tag did the same.
The Master stroked Tag’s cheek. “Good pony.” A second later, he’d fastened the bit into Tag’s
mouth and Tag was trying to neither struggle nor gag. It wasn’t easy.
“Heads up all of you. Make me proud.”
Fuck the hell off.
As they left the room, Tag watched the way Nasir and Juma walked and copied them. Left side
legs forward together, then right. The feel of the tail brushing against his arse and his thighs was
weird and he didn’t like it. It felt as if someone was touching him up. The butt plug was a mix of
pleasure and discomfort. He didn’t want it left in for too long. If he’d been on his own dressed up like
this in front of a crowd of people, he’d have felt very different, but being one of ten made it easier. He
was a little worried that he wanted to do this right. What the fuck is up with me? Maybe he’d got
caught up into the whole fantasy. Or maybe he was imagining getting paid tomorrow.
It might be nice to be stroked and treated well, even if the person doing it was pretending Tag was
a horse. The idea of being looked after appealed. If the man who bought him was kind, then maybe—a
big maybe—Tag might just accept this. He’d been on his own for so long, and even when he’d not
been on his own, no one had cared about him. After…it had happened, Tag had built a defensive wall
around himself, fronted by his cheeky confident smile that was anything but. No one was going to
break through that. Not today. Not ever.
They were led into a large room with an elaborately painted ceiling of cherubs and angels.
Though when Tag stared up at it, Joshua yanked his head down. Large paintings of land and sea
battles hung on the walls. Tag let his gaze wander over the masked audience that stood holding drinks.
All were male and a mixture of races and ages. He had no idea what the one who was going to bid for
him looked like. Tag just hoped that he was recognisable under all the leather straps.
The ten of them were led onto a stage and positioned in a line behind a long wooden pole that ran
across at waist height. Kareem was there with a crop and Tag just knew he was going to use it on him.
“Up!” The Master snapped his crop and when Juma and Nasir draped their arms over the pole,
Tag and the others did the same. Except doing that made the butt plug push against his prostate. He
sucked in air past the gag just as Kareem smacked the crop on his arse. The strike was hard enough to
bring tears to Tag’s eyes.
It took a moment before he could tune in to what the Master was saying. Then he tuned out again.
Some bullshit about their pedigrees and experience. Tag could look out properly at the audience now
of maybe thirty guys. Most were in casual clothes. Some wore suits. As well as holding drinks, they
also held paddles with numbers.
What if the wrong guy buys me? What if the one who’s supposed to buy me hasn’t come? What
if something happens that I don’t like and I’m trapped in this stuff? What if… Oh fuck.
Pony One was led round to the front of where Tag and the other ponies stood. His bit was taken
out, his teeth examined, his tail lifted, his cock and balls talked about—bloody hell, his backside
rubbed, his muscles stroked. The bids were staggering. No wonder they could afford to pay a
thousand to each of them.
Juma was number five—described by the Master as “an experienced thoroughbred” and “a
delightful ride” and he went for forty-one thousand pounds. Tag was shocked. It was hard to swallow
with this bit in his mouth. Swallowing was his comfort reflex and it was lost to him.
Billy went for thirty thousand. The Master had made a lot of his natural mane and it being
something to hang onto. Billy was led back to the pole, and then it was Tag’s turn. He dropped his
arms so his front hooves were on the ground and walked round to the front where his bit was taken
out. He was swallowing compulsively now.
“This one is spirited,” the Master said and smacked Tag hard on the backside with the crop.
Twice.
Fuck that! I’ve done nothing! Tag swivelled round and tried to bite his hand. That earned him
another strike. The Master caught hold of the harness on his cheek and yanked Tag in close. “You
know what I have in my pocket,” he whispered.
“Fuck you,” Tag said.
He jerked free and raised his front legs in the air as if he was going to bring them down on the
Master, who stepped back as Tag slammed them onto the stage, but Tag caught the look of
encouragement in his eyes, the mouthing of ‘Good pony’. He pawed at the floor and shook his head
from side to side. They wanted a bloody pony, did they? Well, they could have a fucking stallion.
The bidding started at twenty-five thousand and the Master put the bit back in his mouth. Tag
glared at the audience, not that they could tell. Then he spotted a face glaring back at him. Even with
the mask, Tag could see the stranger’s irritation. Was this white-haired man the one who was going to
buy him? If so, what had Tag done to piss him off? As the bidding went up to thirty-five thousand, Tag
realised exactly what he’d done. The Master might be happy with him, but the other side were going
to kill him. He wasn’t exactly blending in and maybe they wouldn’t get their money back.
But the guy who’d glared hadn’t yet bid, so maybe Tag was wrong and it was that older one with
dark hair who’d been bidding for him from the start who was supposed to buy him. But then the
grumpy guy raised his paddle and several bids later, he’d won. Forty-five thousand pounds. Fucking
hell. I should have asked for a percentage.
Tag and the others were led out of the room by their reins and taken downstairs—negotiating those
was tricky—then outside to a ringed enclosure where they were walked in circles. It wasn’t very
warm and Tag shivered. His hands and feet were hurting, so was his back, and his arse where he’d
been hit, and the harness was cutting into his chest.
“’ow ’at?” Tag mumbled at Joshua’s ear.
“Shut up. You’re not allowed to speak,” Joshua snapped.
It was impossible to make himself understood with the bit in his mouth. He’d tried to move it with
his tongue but it was too firmly in place. How would anyone hear no? Panic surged and Tag’s
breathing turned ragged. Don’t panic now. Calm down.
Those who’d been at the auction arrived holding glasses of champagne.
“Walk on,” Joshua barked and flicked his and Billy’s reins.
The Master strode over to Tag, took his reins from Joshua and smiled. “Good pony.” He bent his
head to Tag’s ear. “Like to make a run for it?”
Was he serious? How far could he get in this gear? Tag snorted.
“I’ll get you an extra five hundred.”
Tag shook his head. It wasn’t worth the broken ankle or the beating he’d undoubtedly get when he
was caught.
The Master laughed. “Next time you’ll fetch even more.”
Next time? There wouldn’t be a fucking next time.
 “Would the owners like to come into the enclosure?” the Master called. “Feel free to take out your
pony’s bit. You can stroke him, pet him, fellate him if you wish. The races will start in ten minutes.
Miguel will take your bets.”
Tag’s owner was the last to come into the circle. He sauntered over to Tag and took Tag’s reins.
“Expensive piece of horse flesh. You better be worth it.”
His accent was East European, maybe Russian. All the others had had their bits taken out, but this
guy just fingered Tag’s and didn’t remove it. Tag tried to nudge him with his head and the guy yanked
at his head collar.
“My name Vadim.”
Was that supposed to mean something to him? Tag hadn’t been given a name. He rubbed his mouth
on the sleeve of Vadim’s jacket. Take this bit out!
“Think before you speak.” Vadim unclipped the bit.
Tag gasped with relief and stretched his jaw. The bit was the worst thing of all. It made him feel
sick.
Vadim put his head close to Tag’s. “Don’t try to win.”
“Why not?”
“Because I told you not to.”
His purchaser was tall, probably taller than Tag if he’d been upright. He was wearing a pale-grey
suit that was a perfect fit. The white hair was unusual. Tag had a feeling it wasn’t his usual colour.
Sharp cheekbones accentuated a strong jaw. Posh, hard and cruel were the words that came to mind,
but his eyes had Tag mesmerised. A sparkling blue ringed with black that the elaborate mask made
somehow even more distinctive. Despite everything yelling at him that this guy was trouble, Tag felt a
surge of lust. I am such a fuckwit. Why the hell did he like the look of someone who was so clearly
trouble?
“Have all bets been placed for the first race?” the Master called.
Tag couldn’t tear his gaze away from his…owner. It wasn’t often that he was so physically
attracted to anyone, especially to a prick like this. He felt his heart rate rocket. Nor was it often that
anyone stared at him in the way Vadim was staring, as though Tag fascinated him. He bought me. He’s
pretending. Tag calmed down. He had to pretend too.
“Do not win,” Vadim whispered. “Not that you stand cat in hell’s chance.”
You fucking arsehole!
Irritation surged and Tag yanked hard, pulling his reins from Vadim’s grasp and moving back to
Joshua. People were always making assumptions about him and it pissed him off. Now he desperately
wanted to win.
“All owners out of the enclosure,” the Master called.
Please don’t notice my bit is out. But putting it back in place was the first thing Joshua did.

The racing was done in pairs. Tag had no idea how the pairs had been chosen, but One and Three
were the first to run. They were led to a spot about fifty metres away and a finishing line was erected
next to the circle where the rest of them waited. Tag watched the way the successful ones ran. One
hind hoof to the ground, then the opposite hind hoof at the same time as the diagonal front hoof,
followed by the remaining front hoof. Can I do that? Maybe it would just come to him when he began
running.
Juma was by far the fastest and his owner wrapped his arms around him after he’d broken the
tape. Joshua led Tag and Billy to the start. No way did Tag want to lose. Fuck Vadim! The moment the
starting pistol went off, Tag cantered down the grass, totally oblivious of what he was doing with his
arms and legs, but he felt as though he was running naturally. Well, as naturally as you can when you
don’t really have four legs. Billy never got ahead and Tag broke the tape with a gasp.
Billy’s owner came up and gave him a hug. Vadim came nowhere near Tag. I don’t give a fuck.
Tag thought there’d be five of them who had to race again, but Nasir had fallen and was limping.
Juma ran against number One and won easily. Tag ran against number Ten and won by a head. This
time Vadim came up to him after he crossed the line.
“What did I fucking tell you?” he whispered and bit Tag’s ear. His real one. Tag spluttered into his
bit and stamped on Vadim’s foot.
“Fuck!” Vadim yelped.
“What are you doing?” The Master’s crop landed on Tag’s arse and he let out a muffled cry. “That
behaviour is unacceptable.” He hit him again, and Tag almost fell, but then the Master gasped.
Tag looked round. Vadim had his hand wrapped around the Master’s wrist.
“My property. Mine to correct,” Vadim said.
“Then ensure your pony behaves, or I will step in. While you are both at Harborne House, there
are rules that must be followed.”
When the Master had moved away, Vadim put his mouth to Tag’s ear. “Fucking lose race.”
“Fucking get lost,” Tag mumbled back in his best Russian accent.
Considering his chances of winning against Juma were small, he didn’t know why he was being
so awkward. Or maybe he did. He didn’t like not being in control. He was rebelling in the only way
he could.
The two of them were taken back to the starting post. The pain in Tag’s legs and arms was getting
worse. Even walking the length of the course made him hurt.
Juma was pawing at the grass by his side. Tag glanced at him, then faced forward. All those
watching had crowded around the finishing posts, yelling encouragement, shouting out their numbers.
Not Vadim. He stood there with his arms crossed, watching. Tag wasn’t going to lose just to please
him.
The pistol sounded and they were off. Juma pulled slightly ahead but Tag thought he was taking a
risk by lengthening his stride. When he faltered, Tag bounded on. He could hear hooves coming up
behind him and a sixth sense told him Juma was going to knock into him. Tag veered away and went
faster.
He could see the finish line, hear all the men shouting and cheering and for the first time in his
life, he thought he was actually going to win something big, even though he’d never be able to tell
anyone. Then a hoof clipped his back leg and he went down. Juma ran past and crossed the line first.
Tag struggled to his feet, and it was a fucking struggle, and once he’d run over the line, he went
for him. He lowered his head and butted Juma hard in the ribs. In a split second it turned into a fight.
Both of them standing upright, striking out with their front hooves, swinging them as weapons. Tag
was quicker to avoid blows than Juma and he managed to land a few strikes with his hooves and
knocked Juma to the floor. Tag dropped on top of him, only to be pulled off.
“Enough!” Vadim snapped.
“Let them carry on,” Juma’s owner called and several voices chimed in agreeing.
“I want mine in one piece.” Vadim pulled Tag away. “I will be the one breaking him.”
 3
What the fuck did the little shit think he was doing? Delaney was livid. Bad enough that he’d had
to pay so much for him, not that it was his money and it wouldn’t be lost forever, but now both of them
had come to everyone’s attention. He’d been dubious about this aspect of the job working, but fuckwit
Barker had persuaded Henry that Delaney needed some cover. More likely Barker had wanted
Delaney to struggle and throwing this…kid into the operation had been a way to make that happen.
Delaney’s transformation to Vadim Morozov had begun a month ago when his dark hair had been
bleached, then dyed white and his legend created. Vadim had inherited millions when his father had
died, but was successful in his own right as a property developer in Russia and the UK. If anyone
googled Vadim Morozov, they’d find him all over the Internet, just as for the last month he’d been
visible at the right places in London.
His legend had to be tight. His life was potentially on the line. A lot of money had been spent and
a great deal of effort made to find out what happened to a twenty-five-year-old Saudi prince and
diamonds worth £17 million. He doubted the British government particularly cared about the missing
prince, apart from the embarrassment of him disappearing while in the UK. What they were most
interested in was being owed a favour by the Saudis. Though after this length of time, the chances of
Prince Ahsan bin Nagi still being alive were small.
Despite extensive investigations by the police and those working on behalf of the Saudis, no trace
had been found of Ahsan or the diamonds. Then Henry had been given a name by a CI—confidential
informant. Michael Norbury. The man held exclusive events at Harborne House in Surrey. The place
appeared squeaky clean—a popular venue for weddings, anniversaries, corporate events and murder-
mystery parties. The trail might have stopped there, but Henry’s instincts told him Norbury arranged
more events than that, and he’d been right.
Delaney had been turned into Vadim and when details of the pony party were discovered, securing
Vadim an invitation had been a priority. After bribes and threats, Vadim had received his invite, the
person who’d recommended him to Norbury unable to be at today’s event. Just in case. Now all
Delaney needed to do was get into Norbury’s office and into his computer to copy his files, then get
out with his head still attached. Even if there was nothing about Ahsan, Norbury was up to something
more than organising this human gymkhana.
Feely, the one who called himself Master, had been under surveillance since Barker had nobbled
one of the ponies, and a few days ago, Feely had chosen Tag as a replacement. Delaney had made it
clear to Barker and Henry that he didn’t approve of using some random member of the public on a
potentially dangerous job, but Barker had worked some bloody magic wand over Henry, and left
Delaney with no choice.
Delaney had insisted that Tag should know neither his name nor what he looked like. He hadn’t
wanted to be given away before he’d done anything, though the mask helped. Tag was skinny and kind
of attractive, but a little shit. Barker’s claim that Tag was a rent boy who’d signed up knowing what
was expected, seemed less and less likely. Tag was not a happy pony.
The first test Delaney had set for him, Tag had failed. He might have lost the race, which was
what Delaney wanted, but he hadn’t lost it on purpose. How could he be relied on to do what he was
told when Delaney really needed him to? Perhaps at a point where both their lives might be in
danger?
He couldn’t.
Delaney followed the grooms and ponies as they made their way back towards the house, trying to
ignore the tails sticking out of their arses. Not sexy…and yet…sort of sexy. But this definitely wasn’t
his sort of thing. All I have to do is pretend.
“How much to fuck him?” a guy asked quietly.
Delaney turned. A man of Middle-Eastern origin who looked to be about the same age as him had
come up at his side. Delaney stared straight at him and pressed a button in his pocket. The camera
hidden within his mask would add another image to the collection.
“Make me offer.”
He did.
“Double it,” Delaney said.
The man nodded.
Bloody hell. “You really want him.”
“I do. My name’s Hassan.”
“Vadim.”
They shook hands. Delaney didn’t remember this guy bidding anything other than small amounts
for three ponies, none of which were Tag.
“So?” Hassan asked.
“Okay. But after me.” Delaney had no choice, these offers were part of the whole event, but Tag
would get some of that money so he assumed the kid would be fine with it. Even if the kid hadn’t
known exactly what he’d be getting into, he knew he’d be expected to fuck.
Hassan shrugged. “He has passion.”
“But not much sense.”
“Beauty and passion are more than enough. I don’t suppose you’d care to make a private
arrangement? Exclusively mine and yours until morning and I’ll pay you twenty thousand.”
“A private deal wouldn’t go down well with our hosts.”
“What they don’t know…?” Hassan raised his eyebrows.
Delaney shook his head. He didn’t need to come to Norbury’s attention for the wrong reason.
Hassan looked disappointed. “I’ll speak to them.”
Delaney hoped they said no, but even so, he could work around there being two of them with Tag.
Before Delaney had reached the stables, he’d accepted three more offers for Tag, which would be
arranged through the organisers and for which Vadim and Tag would be paid a percentage. A fuck,
blow job and rimming. All requests had been recorded by his mask for possible future use. Paying for
sex and providing sexual services for payment were legal in the UK but owning or managing a
brothel, pimping and pandering, were crimes. Delaney suspected clever lawyers could manoeuvre
Norbury out of trouble.
The stables had once been used for actual horses, but the interior had been opened out and all the
ponies were tied in a line. Their arms were up on a rail and Delaney imagined it must be a relief not
to be bent over. If he hadn’t been too old at thirty-seven, he might well have been where Tag currently
stood. And looking unhappy, just like Tag. Delaney sighed.
Tag’s groom began working on the guy with long blond hair, and Delaney went to deal with Tag
himself. He took the bit out of his mouth and held a container of water below his mouth.
“Hold it…so I can drink,” Tag gasped.
“Lap it,” Delaney said. “Or you get nothing.”
Tag hesitated, then lapped it up.
The edges of his mouth looked red and sore, and Delaney unclipped the other end of the bit and
tossed it into the straw. No more of that.
 “Thank you,” Tag whispered.
Delaney watched what the other grooms were doing and copied them, wiping Tag down with a
damp sponge, then rubbing oil over him. But he went nowhere near his cock. That Delaney’s cock had
hardened did not mean he was turned on by a guy kitted out as a pony. All ten of them looked
ridiculous and yet…
“Did you bet on me?” Tag whispered.
“No.”
“I almost won.”
“But you didn’t. So I did. I bet against you.”
Tag glared. “I was trying to win.”
“I know you were.” You little fuck. And yet Delaney admired that defiance.
Tag put his head down on the rail and sighed. He suddenly looked very young and Delaney
wondered how old he was. Henry had shown him Tag’s picture, said that Barker had made the
arrangements, and that Feely, the Master, had found a rent boy, which made their lives easier, but that
was all. No one had told him Tag’s age. What sort of name was Tag, anyway?
“He’s so cute.” Hassan held a piece of apple in his hand. “Can I feed him?”
Delaney nodded. “Watch your fingers.”
Hassan laughed. Delaney wondered if Tag would accept the fruit but he did, taking bites from the
segment Hassan was holding. When Delaney caught Tag glancing at him, he chuckled because he
realised the kid was trying to irritate him.
“I’d like you in my stables in Riyadh alongside my actual horses. What a fuss that would cause.”
Hassan leaned with his back against the bar and stared at Tag. “Sadly, that can never happen, but I
have a home here, so maybe we can come to an arrangement, pony. Your owner has gracefully agreed
that I can fuck you later. I can’t wait.”
Delaney felt Tag tense and was surprised he didn’t say anything, but then he spotted the Master
watching the three of them.
Hassan ran his hand down Tag’s flank, then round to his arse.
Tag sucked in a breath.
“So hard.” Hassan pulled at the strap that kept the butt plug in place. “You would have won that
race if Pony Five hadn’t kicked you. I’ll go and give him a kick on your behalf, shall I? Perhaps you’d
like to join me for a week in Scotland. I’ll make it well worth your while.”
Hassan looked at Delaney who kept his face neutral.
“Well?” Hassan asked.
“I only bought him for a day.”
“True. We’ll talk later, pony. Once you’re allowed to speak.”
Hassan wandered off and others came, all wanting to touch Tag who stamped, snorted, shifted and
kicked, making his feelings perfectly clear without actually speaking. But the idiot didn’t realise his
behaviour only made him more attractive to many, those who didn’t want someone docile, but
relished a challenge, and were looking for an excuse to inflict pain, especially if that pain wasn’t
wanted.
Delaney stood massaging Tag’s shoulders, purely because he felt he ought to be seen touching him,
though Tag was leaning into him, groaning, when Michael Norbury and the Master came over.
Norbury smacked Tag on the arse and Tag shuddered. “What a find you were.” Norbury chuckled.
He trailed his fingers up from the tail in Tag’s backside all the way to his face and grabbed his jaw,
forcing Tag to look at him. “I shall have to give you a bonus, Master.”
 “The fish and chips were an added delight,” Feely said. “Not the tartare sauce.”
Delaney wondered what that meant.
“I did warn you,” Tag snapped. “But you didn’t warn me, did you? Why don’t you go and find real
ponies to shag?”
Oh shit.
But Norbury laughed. “I’m not into bestiality. That’s not what this is about. Surely you’re not
stupid enough to believe that.”
“It’s about control,” Tag said. “Absolute—arggh.”
Feely had brought his crop up hard between Tag’s legs. Delaney winced. That had to have hurt.
Tag screwed up his eyes and clenched his teeth together as he gasped. Tears filled his eyes. Feely
glared at Delaney, almost daring him to reach for his wrist a second time. Delaney didn’t react. If
Feely tried to hit the kid again, he’d get more than his wrist being grabbed.
“Let him speak, Master,” Norbury said.
“Do not hit him there again,” Delaney said. “I don’t want him damaged. I paid high for him
because of rebellious nature. I punish, not you.”
“No more,” Norbury said to Feely who nodded, but glared at Delaney behind Norbury’s back.
“Control,” Tag mumbled. “Bondage, domination, sadism, masochism. Taking away our ability to
speak… Removing our ability to use our hands… We have to walk in the way you want us to walk.”
He took a deep but shaky breath. “Wear what you choose for us to wear… You use crops on us,
threaten us with castration. We have to drink like ponies. Make noises like a pony. You make us look
as much like ponies as you can. It’s degrading.”
“No. In that last part, you’re wrong,” Norbury said. “You’re new to this so you don’t quite get it
yet. It’s not about degrading anyone. Pet play is a fetish that lies firmly inside the BDSM spectrum,
and it’s about building strong emotional connections between the pet and owner, just as it would be
between a sub and Dom. The pet owner demands obedience and unconditional love, and will do
whatever they feel they need to do to achieve that.”
Delaney had to fight not to roll his eyes.
“Did you memorise the handbook?” Tag asked.
Just what Delaney had been thinking.
Norbury laughed and stroked Tag’s arse. “Wouldn’t you like unconditional love, little pony?”
“It’s not healthy,” Tag said.
“A dog loves its master,” Norbury said.
“The source of its food, water and shelter. And we’re not talking about dogs.”
Norbury smiled. “Owners train their pets to feel safe and secure in their relationship. They know
how far to go, but that line has been determined by the pet. At their best, pets go into an altered mind-
space. Letting go of their other self allows them a freedom that others can only dream of. You should
try it.”
Second paragraph in the handbook, Delaney assumed.
“In a negotiated arrangement, maybe, but this isn’t what I want,” Tag said.
Shut the fuck up. You’re being paid to do this.
Norbury shrugged. “You were paid to pretend it’s what you want.”
“Then that’s not the same, is it?”
Tag was right. Delaney wondered how many of the ten were doing this for anything other than the
money. He’d guess not many.
“You could have chosen not to come,” Norbury said.
 “I was offered too much money to refuse.”
Norbury chuckled. “It’s never too much to refuse.”
“A comment that can only be made by someone who has plenty of money.” Tag scowled.
“You bit, you kicked, you raced, you whinnied.” Feely stroked Tag’s head, then gripped his hair
and wrenched his head up. “When you’re bad, you’re punished, but when you’re good, you’ll get as
much affection as you can cope with. You like testing the boundaries. You want to be made to obey.
You like this far more than you think you do.”
Tag shook him off. “I don’t. I never have. I never will. I do what I want.”
Delaney joined in with Feely and Norbury’s laughter, though Tag was going up in his estimation.
“You’re more into this than you’re yet aware,” Norbury said. “If you’d wanted to leave, you
should have spoken out.”
Delaney dug his fingers into Tag’s ribs. He needed Tag to stay now they’d got this far. Not that he
thought they’d let him go.
“Can I leave?” Tag asked. “If I asked you to let me go now, would you?”
Norbury smiled at Delaney. “Ah, well there you have me. No, not now. Consensual has become
non-consensual as far as you’re concerned. Only one out of the ten who feels like that, and who is the
one who has attracted the most interest? You. My lucky tenth.”
“Lucky tenth? What does that mean?” Tag asked.
“I like even numbers. Ten is a good number and you were the tenth to be chosen. Thirty guests.
Twenty members of staff. It all brings good fortune.” Norbury smiled at him.
“One who doesn’t want to be here,” Tag muttered.
“A lot of money has been paid for you, pony. Many of my guests intend to have fun with you,
watching you being played with if not playing with you themselves. I’m not going to disappoint them.
Nor will you. Resistance makes you irresistible. No matter how much you plead, everyone here will
still think it’s what you want. There are no safe words for you. You’re going to earn a lot more than a
thousand pounds tonight. Take comfort from that.”
Delaney felt Tag trembling.
Tag took a noisy breath. “Then at least reassure me that the threats of castration are only that.
Threats.”
“We’ve not castrated anyone,” Norbury said.
“Yet,” Feely added. “Though Christof came close.”
He and Norbury walked away chuckling.
“For Christ sake,” Delaney whispered to Tag. “Keep mouth shut.”
“That won’t be much fun, will it?” Tag snapped. “They can keep the fucking money. I want to go
home.”
“They not let you.”
Tag sighed.
“When you’ve finished pampering your ponies,” Feely called out, “come back to the house for
dinner. The grooms will bring them in.”
“Don’t let me get hurt.” Tag pressed his head into Delaney’s chest, then looked up at him.
“Please!”
Delaney nodded, though he was aware he might be unable to stop it happening. The rules of this
game had changed.

***
 The ponies were led into the dining room about an hour later. They were upright, barefoot and no
longer wearing the arm coverings, but still in black leather harnesses, still wearing the ears, tails, and
cock rings. Delaney wondered if they’d been given Viagra to keep them hard this long. Why am I even
wondering?
Tag was brought to Delaney’s side by his groom and shoved to his knees.
“Please only feed them from your fingers,” Norbury called.
Tag kept his lips firmly closed to whatever Delaney tried to give him.
“You want me to fetch you grass?” Delaney asked.
Tag glared up at him and Delaney glared back. It’s your own fucking fault! You should have
asked more questions before you said yes!
Delaney did have some sympathy for his situation, but Tag had known he was signing up for a sex
party, even if it hadn’t turned out to be quite what he expected. It was just an evening of sex and it
wasn’t as if Delaney was going to fuck him. Though he suspected he might have to make it look as if
he was. No way would he let anyone get castrated. That was not going to happen.
Everyone was well on the way to being drunk before they’d started to eat. They’d been plied with
alcohol from the moment they’d arrived and owners were now giving alcohol to their ponies.
Interestingly, Tag had refused that too and had only accepted water. Delaney had been careful about
how much alcohol he’d drunk. He still had a job to do and he needed to drive away from here tonight,
not stay in the room he’d been allocated. But he had a problem with that in the shape of a kid who
didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.
Tag was slumped on his knees, his head down. Delaney wondered what he was thinking. Probably
safer not to ask him. Partly because he had a horrible suspicion that he wasn’t going to like what he
heard. Which was precisely the reason he should ask him.
The plan could be changed.
Ask him!
Delaney pulled Tag up, yanked him down to sit across his lap and wrapped his arms around him.
It was like hugging a block of wood and it sort of told him everything.
“Have you ever done anything like this before?” Delaney whispered into his ear.
“I’ve never sat on anyone’s knee.”
Delaney sighed. “Not that.”
“Pretended to be a pony? No, I haven’t done that either. I’ll tick it off the list. Never had a tail in
my arse, nor been hit with a crop, nor had a bit in my mouth, never been threatened with castration,
never worn hooves… Hell, I’ll run out of paper.”
“I thinking more on the lines of being paid for strangers to fuck you?”
“Oh. That. No. Never.”
Oh shit. Definitely no more Plan A. He was onto Plan B.
“But you knew when offered so much money that sex expected.” Delaney pretended to nuzzle
Tag’s neck and pleaded with his cock to stay limp. It wasn’t listening and Tag was going to notice in a
moment.
“I’m not stupid. I guessed. But I didn’t guess this.” Tag gave a heavy sigh. “It’s my fault. I know
that. It’s okay. I can do it. Looks like a thousand pounds is my price to do almost anything. It’s just
sex. Doesn’t mean anything. I just don’t want…to be whipped or strangled or…have a fucking elastic
band put around my balls.” He let out a shuddering breath. “I’m happy with a thousand for going with
you. But I don’t want to do more than that.”
You don’t want to do it at all. So it isn’t just sex. Jesus Christ. Delaney was going to kill Barker.
Henry too for that matter.
They were called out of the dining room into a large reception room with lots of chairs and
couches. Delaney pulled Tag along using the short rein hanging from his neck. He led him to the far
end of the room, then tugged him back onto his lap.
“I get you out of here,” he whispered in Tag’s ear, “but I have to stick around a while. If I leave
room, try to keep Norbury and the Master in here. You good at distraction. Be pest. Until I’ve been
with you, you should be safe from being touched by anyone. They paid to go after me.”
“They? I thought just the Arab wanted me. Who else have you sold me to? How many men? And
to do what? Because I have limits. And you better look more possessive because people are
watching.”
Delaney slid his hand up Tag’s back and wrapped his fingers around the leather harness crossing
his shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything for anyone.”
Tag huffed.
“I mean it.”
“And how are you going to make that possible?” Tag whispered.
Right in front of them, two men had tugged one of the ponies down and he was giving them both a
blowjob. With a lot of enthusiasm. Delaney swallowed hard. At the other side of the room a groom
had two cocks in his arse. Things were heating up. Shand Kitson, a bitcoin dealer, the only man
Delaney had recognised, came over and sat beside him. Say something incriminating!
“Your pony’s hot,” Kitson said. “Five hundred to fuck him.”
“No.”
“A thousand then.”
“There already a line. I don’t want arse destroyed.”
“What does it matter? You only bought him for the night.”
“Mine to decide what to do with.”
“Let me jump the queue.” Kitson licked his lips. “Two thousand.”
“I think about it. I paid a lot for his company.”
It felt as if Tag was trying to burrow under his jacket. His face was pressed into Delaney’s
shoulder, his fingers gripping his sleeve. Delaney generally had little inclination to protect anyone
other than himself. He was selfish, self-absorbed and egotistical. But…he’d never had anyone cling
to him like this, never felt even a little bit…protective. It was disturbing and he couldn’t afford to let
himself be disturbed.
When Kitson finally wandered off, Delaney whispered, “Careful,” and pulled Tag to his feet.
He’d changed his mind. He wouldn’t leave Tag on his own in here. They’d be on him like a pack of
wolves regardless of what was agreed. He’d have to go for a hastily drawn-up plan C. He led him to
the door. Even before he had it open, Feely stepped to block them.
“Where do you think you two are off to?”
“Somewhere more private.”
“Not until I say so.”
Delaney scowled. “Fuck that. I paid enough to expect thirty minutes of privacy. Move.”
Feely looked like he wanted to punch him but a look from Delaney made him move aside. “He’s a
valuable piece of flesh. Be sure to bring him back down in one piece.”

Once they were in the bedroom, Delaney put a finger to his lips. When he’d been shown the room
on arrival, he’d checked it but now he needed to check it again. The camera he’d found was in an
ornament on a table by the door. It gave a direct view of the bed.
“You not been good pony,” Delaney said.
Tag whimpered. “I—”
“Quiet. Don’t speak until I say you can.” He couldn’t trust Tag not to say the wrong thing.
Delaney took off his jacket and casually tossed it on the table, obscuring the camera. He activated
an electronic sweeper and walked around the room talking as he went. As well as checking for a
listening device, he was looking to see if another camera had been installed since he’d checked
earlier.
“Why you not eat?” Delaney asked as he sauntered around. It was hard not to appear as if he were
looking for something.
“Do you want me to speak?”
“When I ask question.”
“Wasn’t hungry.”
“Get on bed. Take cock ring off and tail out… Don’t play with it, bad pony.”
Tag looked so confused that Delaney almost smiled.
“Just so I know, do you want me to be bad?”
“Try it.” Delaney was satisfied he’d found no other camera, only a listening device in the lamp on
the bedside table. Which hadn’t been there before. Interesting.
Delaney slapped his hands together and mouthed ‘ouch’.
“That hurt,” Tag yelped. “Oh, I’m sorry. Ow. Don’t hurt me.”
So it seemed the kid could act. Delaney removed a small gadget from a hidden pocket in his
trousers and took it to the bed. He dropped down next to Tag and pressed his mouth to his ear. “We
being listened to. Were being watched but I block the camera.” He sucked in a breath and spoke
loudly. “How badly you need to come?”
“Very badly.”
Delaney laughed. “Poor pony.” Then he whispered, “I’m going to start playing recording of my
voice. You join in. I lock you in and go for look around. They need to believe you in here with me and
I fucking you. We both come. Okay?”
Tag nodded, wide-eyed.
“Don’t know what to eat first,” Delaney said, pressing the disruptor in his pocket that would kill
the CCTV, then started the recorder.

Tag felt as if he’d walked into a film, maybe starting the night he’d been asked if he had a big
cock. As Vadim walked out of the door, the Vadim on the recorder said, “I been desperate to fuck you
since I first saw you.”
How was Tag supposed to know what to say? Well, I’m here and I’m ready?
“Jesus, you so hot,” Vadim said.
“So are you,” Tag answered in a breathy voice. “Do you still want me to be a pony?” Shit. He
shouldn’t have asked him a question. “Don’t hit me. I’m sorry. Forget I said that. I’ll be your pony.”
Tag began to roll around and moan and breathe heavily. “Oh fuck, yes, there. Will you ride me?
Please?”
Vadim did some grunting on the recording, some yelling at him for being naughty, and Tag pulled
at the sheets and banged his fist on the headboard and did everything he could think of to make it
sound as though both of them were in there and having crazy sex. Of course, if Vadim was caught, Tag
was going to be in trouble too. Though his only chance of getting out of this place without having to
act as the fuck toy for several guys—was probably Vadim.
“Oh God, God,” Vadim grunted.
“You’re so big.” Tag almost sniggered. “Bloody hell. Really big. You’re going to—”
“Shut up and suck my cock.”
It was almost as if the tape had known when Tag would be talking. Even if their voices
overlapped, it didn’t really matter. Tag started to slurp on the back of his hand and make the sort of
choking noises that implied a large cock was being shoved into his mouth.
“Yeah, like that,” Vadim gasped.
Tag slapped his leg a couple of times to add authenticity.
“Bring yourself off,” Vadim ordered.
Actually…why not? Tag wrapped his fingers round his cock as he continued to pretend Vadim’s
dick was in his mouth. His cock had been hard for too long. That fucking orange drink Joshua had
given him.
Vadim was still talking and moaning on the tape and Tag shut his eyes and imagined that he was
actually there. Tag spat onto his fingers and dropped his hand back to his cock. What a change to have
to make as much noise as possible when he jacked off, rather than as little.
Tag moved his hand faster, sliding it up to run his palm over the crest, then dragging it down again
until he reached his balls. “Oh Christ.” He still had to remember to respond to Vadim. He imagined
himself with Vadim lying on top of him, Tag’s legs bent back, Vadim pressing his dick against the
entrance to his body, as Tag looked up into those amazing eyes. He’d push until the muscles gave way
and Tag would groan, just as he was groaning now. He tightened his grip, sped up the action of his fist
and felt a prickle strike the base of his skull.
The comforting sensation of impending orgasm warmed his gut, and after a shitty few hours,
reassured him in some primal way, making his heart beat faster. “Close, close,” he gasped, then
tipped over the edge. Just as he spurted into his fingers, Vadim walked back into the room. Of course
he fucking did. Tag wiped his hands on the sheet. At least messed-up sheets made this look even more
realistic. Vadim walked over and retrieved the recorder.
“Did I say you could come yet?” Vadim asked.
“Well… No. Have I been a bad pony?”
“Very bad.” Vadim put his mouth to Tag’s ear and pressed into his hand. “Key fob to black
Mercedes. Parked at front. Open boot. Put fob on inside of the front left wheel, get in boot, shut it and
keep still and quiet.”
“Very very bad?” Tag asked.
“So bad.” Vadim put his mouth to Tag’s ear. “Keep other thing with you all time. It will knock out
CCTV. Now tell me you want to play hide-and-seek. Wait two minutes before you follow me from
room, then press once to kill cameras.”
Tag nodded. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.”
“You going to get fucked by two men downstairs, suck another off and get rimmed by another.”
Tag gulped. “All at the same time? Could be tricky.”
Vadim laughed.
“Maybe we could play hide-and-seek,” Tag said. “See who gets me first.”
“That sound fun. Okay. Once I leave room, you hide. The five of us will count to hundred, then
come find you. Whoever find you first, get you first.”
“Count to two hundred.”
Vadim chuckled. “I give you five minutes because you did make me come hard.”
 Tag rolled his eyes. “It’s a special skill.”
Vadim laughed as he pushed up from the bed. ‘Okay?’ he mouthed.
Tag nodded. He had the key and disruptor clutched tight in his fingers.
Once Vadim had grabbed his jacket and exited the room, Tag pushed to his feet. He played it up
for the camera, stretching and touching his arse and wincing. He waited a couple of minutes as he’d
been told, then left the room, pressing the disruptor before he slipped downstairs. Only to see Kareem
standing by the front door. Shit.
For a moment, Tag considered telling him they were playing a game and asking him not to say
anything about him going outside. That wasn’t going to work. Instead, he ran down a corridor and into
the first room he found. Thankfully, it was empty. He slid the bolts open on the French doors and went
outside.
He winced when he stepped onto gravel but he didn’t have time to hesitate. He ran around the
building to the front, checked to see if anyone was watching, then made his way through the cars,
crouching down, trying to stay hidden. Tag didn’t know one vehicle from another, particularly in the
dark, but he pressed the boot-open symbol on the fob and once he saw one rise, he ran straight to it.
He put the fob where Vadim had told him to, climbed into the boot and pulled it down hard. It clicked
into place and Tag exhaled.
 4
Delaney walked back into the reception room, caught Hassan’s attention and walked over to him.
Hassan stood up, his eyes as wide as his grin. “Have you fucked him?”
“He all yours. Except…”
“Except what?”
“He want to play hide-and-seek with those who paid for him. You go after five minutes. The
others after ten with me.”
Hassan’s eyes sparkled. “Okay.”
Delaney went to tell the other men. Hunting down a wayward pony clearly appealed. They were
all excited. Champing at the bit. Delaney was angry at the idea of any of them getting their hands on
Tag. Maybe I’m coming down with something. It couldn’t be an attack of conscience, could it?
He had what he’d come for, the high-capacity USB was in his pocket. He’d copied the computer’s
hard drive. Less than thirty seconds taken to uncover the password. Delaney also had the data from
the camera in his mask. If no masks had been required, he’d have worn glasses that would have done
the same job. All Delaney needed to do now was make an unsuspicious exit.
The room was rumbling with chatter about the game of hide and seek and Delaney saw Feely
going to speak to Norbury who sat on a couch with his cock down Juma’s throat.
Norbury beckoned Delaney over. “You should have run this game by me first.”
Delaney shrugged. “His idea. I thought it good one. He can’t get far naked. And he has no shoes.”
“It is a good idea. I like it. But I’d have preferred some notice. We could have played with all of
them, given everyone some fun.” He grunted as Juma pulled off to take a breath.
“I like to chase,” Delaney said, hoping he was planting a seed. “More exciting. Predator prey. Fun
to hunt. Punishment to suit crime.”
“Go get him.” Norbury grinned.
Delaney went over to the door where Hassan stood with his phone. “Go now.”
Hassan whooped and disappeared.
Delaney pretended interest in what was happening in the room until it was time for him and the
other three men to hunt too. Only Delaney and one other went up the stairs. Delaney was hoping to
find the room where Tag had been transformed into a pony. He couldn’t take his clothes, but if there
was a phone or a wallet, he could at least get those.
He went through every unlocked door, though most were locked, presumably rooms allocated to
the guests downstairs. He wasn’t going to risk using his lock-picking skills now he had what he’d
come for. By the time he’d explored the next floor up, he’d not come across the room he was looking
for so he went back down.
Feely was in the hall. “Where the fuck is he?”
“Why you look? You not part of the game.”
“Because no one can find him.”
“Not upstairs,” Delaney said. “Have you checked all this floor?”
“I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Then he must be outside.”
Norbury came out of the main room.
“Seven has disappeared,” Feely said.
“Get everyone looking,” Norbury snapped.
It didn’t take long before tempers began to fray. Delaney made sure he looked equally irritated.
Interestingly, he’d seen no sign of Hassan. The other three who’d paid for Tag had given up looking.
They were back inside the house. Feely and several grooms milled around outside.
“Did you tell him to run?” Feely snapped at Delaney.
“What? No. I’m as pissed off about this as you. I paid fucking fortune for little cunt.”
Delaney made all the right noises and protests, throwing in some Russian swearing. Norbury
came outside and Delaney repeated the same act. He was as convincing as he could be. When no one
made the suggestion he’d hoped they would, he made it himself. “You have lake here, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Norbury said.
“What if he fell in?”
The guy blanched.
Delaney was relieved he didn’t say it was only a couple of feet deep.
“Did you check CCTV?” Delaney asked.
“He was seen leaving the bedroom and going downstairs,” Feely said. “After that the cameras
were off.”
“Off?” Delaney frowned. “You think he did that?”
“Maybe,” Feely said. “But we’ve been having issues with them.”
That was a stroke of luck. “Well, I not hang round waiting for fucking disaster to unfold if idiot
has managed to drown.” Vadim exaggerated his Russian accent. “You better make sure no one find out
what happen here tonight. None of us expect repercussion from this. I’m getting bag and leaving. I
will be in touch. I expect this to be made right.”
He stalked back into the house.
When he came back down, Hassan stood in the hall with a bag in his hand.
“Are you going back to London? Can you give me a lift? I gave my driver the night off. He’s not
due until nine tomorrow morning. I don’t want to wait.”
“Fine.” Shit. Though Delaney had questions for Hassan.
When they reached the car, Delaney dropped down by the wheel and pretended to check the tyre
as he palmed the key.
“Something wrong?” Hassan asked.
“I thought tyre looked little flat, but fine.”
“Open the boot and I’ll put my bag in.”
“My golf clubs in there. Throw on back seat with mine.”
Delaney took off his mask and put it in the console. He could hardly do otherwise, but it meant
Hassan did the same, stuffing his in his pocket. All Delaney needed now was for Tag to keep still and
quiet until he dropped Hassan off, and to find out who the fuck Hassan really was.

The first thing Tag had done when he got into the boot was remove the straps that were around his
head. It was too difficult to get at the other fastenings on his back, and he was worried about making
the car rock if he struggled, because if the vehicle had locked itself, rocking might set off an alarm.
He kept still even though his legs were twisted uncomfortably beneath him.
What a fucking mess! Tag had no keys to the house and his room. Everything he’d arrived with
was still in that box, along with his phone and wallet and his favourite jacket. Thank God he’d had the
foresight to leave his debit card and cash back at the house. Though the Master knew where he lived
and so did whoever Vadim was working for. Shit. Tag definitely needed to move out. A decision
already made, but now he needed to leave today.
 The thousand pounds he’d counted on had gone, just like that, after all he’d put up with. He wasn’t
too sure he’d get the other three thousand either, even though he’d done what he’d been told to do.
Mostly.
He was deep in something he didn’t understand. Had anything illegal happened? Weird yes, but
illegal? Giving them Viagra, or whatever the fuck had been in that orange drink, without their consent,
had to be against the law. But maybe the drug would be out of his system before he went to the police.
And no way was he going to the police. He had no idea who any of the others were. He knew
where Billy had been picked up, but that was all. Tag wouldn’t come out as the winner against men
who paid thousands to buy a human pony. When it came down to it, he had no proof about any of what
had happened. He also had the sneaking suspicion that opening his mouth could be a fatal mistake.
It was pitch black and hot and he was dripping with sweat. Tag heard movement around the car
and tensed, then there were voices. Where would they think he’d gone when he was as good as naked
and had no shoes? The muffled conversation was very close to the car. His heart went bananas. If they
found him, he’d claim it was a joke, that Vadim had paid him to hide. Or he could say he’d found this
car unlocked and then been trapped. Tag recognised Vadim’s voice. He was talking to the Middle-
Eastern bidder who’d wanted to buy time with him. A moment later, there was a click as the doors
unlocked, then a couple of thumps. The car rocked and he knew they’d both got inside. When the
engine started, he acknowledged there’d be no stopping a little way down the road to let him out.
Tag swallowed to try and bring moisture to his dry mouth. Were the pair in league? What if they
were taking him somewhere to…really fuck him up? To kill him? He pressed his mouth into the side
of his hand. He had to stop thinking like that or he’d panic.
The constant jolting and bumping made him feel sick. Bad enough that the boot lid was just above
his head because it was making the space he was in feel very small. It was having his face covered
that Tag couldn’t cope with, more than confined spaces, but his heart was beating way too fast and he
had to fight off the urge to scream.
Don’t freak out. Stay calm. He counted backwards in his head, concentrated on his breathing, and
pulled away from the edge. He was really thirsty, and it was hard to think of anything but the
predicament he was in, scrunched up, unable to stretch out, his mouth getting drier and drier. If the car
went into a river or a quarry, he’d drown. Plenty of water then. What if Vadim had an accident? Tag
was outside of the safe area of the car. Boots were meant to crumple, weren’t they? There was most
likely an emergency release for the boot but he’d not found it. Now he tried to. And found nothing.
His heart rate shot up again. Tag tried to brace himself so he didn’t get thrown around so much,
but he felt increasingly as if he was going to throw up. He had virtually nothing in his stomach, but his
stomach didn’t seem to know that. It felt as if he was running out of air, but he knew that wasn’t true.
Cars weren’t airtight. He just needed to stay calm.
A couple of times, when his head hit the roof, the pain was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He
was bruised and aching now as well as hot and sweaty. Every time the car stopped, Tag hoped it was
the Arab getting out, but the muffled conversation told him it wasn’t.
Finally, the engine went off and the boot opened. So much for his plans to spring out and run away
because Tag couldn’t move. Vadim looked down at him and tossed him a shirt. Tag should be furious
with him and he was, but he still half-fancied him. Only because I’m an idiot. Vadim hadn’t been at
Harborne House for pleasure, but work. Everything he’d said and done had been his job. Some spy
shit. Tag painfully levered himself into a sitting position and pulled on the shirt. It was crisp from
being ironed and smelt of a lemony fabric softener. Tag had never worn an ironed shirt.
“Hand over the disruptor.”
 Tag passed it to him.
“You can get in the front now.”
He didn’t even help Tag out of the car, and Tag almost fell when he put his feet on the ground. And
where was his Russian accent? They were in some sort of industrial estate. It appeared to be early
morning. No one was around. At least the shirt was long enough to hide his bare arse.
Tag staggered to the front, got in, then fastened the seat belt. “Do you have any water?” he croaked
and hardly recognised his own voice.
“No.”
Oh God. He turned his head to the window and closed his eyes. He was so tired physically, and
mentally exhausted, and he couldn’t even go to sleep when he got home. He’d have to find a way into
his room, pack up his stuff and get out of there. Don’t fucking cry, you big baby. He bit his lip. He’d
made lots of mistakes in his life, and this was up there with the big ones. All because he’d let the
Master think he had a big cock. And it wasn’t that big.
When Vadim’s phone rang, Tag didn’t stir.
“I can’t talk now,” Vadim said.
That Russian accent had definitely gone.
“You’re late checking in. There better not be a problem.”
“Trying to insult me?”
“The other job has been moved up to tomorrow morning.”
“Seriously? I thought Henry wanted a debrief first thing?”
The person said something that Tag couldn’t make out and the call ended. Vadim muttered
something under his breath. Tag shouldn’t really be surprised that Vadim wasn’t Russian. His hair
probably wasn’t usually white either. Tag wished the arsehole was nicer, wished Vadim was actually
interested in him, wished… Ah well. Tag wanted his money and then he was going to disappear.
When Vadim pulled up and turned off the engine, Tag sat up. They were outside a twenty-four hour
convenience store.
“Just water?” Vadim asked.
Tag nodded.
The moment Vadim was out of the car, Tag checked the glove box and saw a gun. Tag whimpered.
He closed it up and looked in the door pocket. Nothing on his side, but on the driver’s side, there
were scraps of paper that looked like a torn-up envelope. Tag collected them all and moved back into
his seat.
Vadim came back with a bottle of water and a paper bag. He offered both to Tag.
Tag pushed the pieces of paper under his thigh. “Thank you.”
He drank almost all the water at one go, tipping it down his parched throat. God, a gun. What the
fuck have I stumbled into? When he looked in the bag, he saw a jam doughnut. Tag’s mouth watered,
but he needed to keep hold of the bag and he’d have no reason to if he ate the contents.
“Is that okay?” Vadim set off again.
So you do know how to be kind. “I’ll have it later. Thank you.” Tag managed to transfer the
envelope fragments to the bag and scrunched up the top.
Though now Tag had seen the gun, he wondered if maybe Vadim was taking him somewhere other
than his room, maybe somewhere he could shoot him, though couldn’t he have done that when they’d
stopped in the industrial estate?
When streets began to look familiar, Tag’s anxiety eased. Vadim pulled up outside the house.
“Get inside, forget this ever happened. Not a word to anyone. And if you’ve got half a brain, think
about moving. Soon.”
“If I had a key. I wasn’t expecting to be back until the morning. And no shit, Sherlock, I’d already
figured out I’d need new lodgings.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Vadim snapped, although Tag’s words made sense.
“Where did you think I was going to carry it? Up my arse that just happened to be otherwise
occupied with a tail? Apart from my clothes and shoes, they have my keys, my wallet and my phone.
What’s to stop them letting themselves in when they like?”
“Then move. You’re not going to see those again.”
“I’d assumed not.” Tag clenched his teeth and held out his hand. “Pay me then. I was promised
three thousand pounds.”
“Paying you is not my job.”
“What? But I can’t hang around. You know I’m not safe here anymore.” Tag was angry with
himself for sounding so pathetic.
“That’s not my problem.”
What the fuck? I helped you! Tag was so furious, he couldn’t even speak.
“I’ll get you into your room. Wait here.”
Vadim reached onto the back seat, took something out of his bag, then left the car.
“God, I hate you,” Tag mumbled. “And you God, I hate you as well. Fuck my fucking life.”
Vadim beckoned from the open door of the house and Tag went to him, paper bag in hand,
hobbling.
“Which room is yours?” Vadim asked.
“That one.”
A couple of twists with some picks and Tag’s door swung open. He walked in and slammed the
door in Vadim’s face.
Then he burst into tears.
Tag allowed himself a few moments of self-pity, belatedly muffling his cries by pressing his arm
into his face in case he woke one of his housemates. Then he snapped himself out of it. Crying was
pointless. He took off Vadim’s shirt and undid all the straps across his chest and around his hips. The
leather had left red lines crisscrossing his skin. Tag wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for
the bathroom. No sign of Vadim, though he hadn’t expected there to be. Tag bet that wasn’t his name
either.
While he showered, he planned. He ought to pay his housemates his share of the bills before he
left. Telling them he was going to move north to…pick a place…York, might deter anyone who came
looking for him.
He did have money in the bank. He just wished he’d had the job in the pub for longer. He’d been
paid the London minimum wage and one week’s wages went on a month’s rent, but he’d saved a few
hundred pounds. He had to buy another phone. He couldn’t do anything without one.
Once he was dressed, he began to pack. He had nowhere to go, and insufficient funds to pay for
anywhere for long so he knew he had to be careful about what he chose to take. None of the furniture
was his. Well, the rickety chair was, rescued from a skip, but that was all. Tag filled a small backpack
with must-haves and a duffle bag with the rest, cramming in as much as he could.
He even took his work in progress. His clay model of a sea otter, about twenty centimetres long,
with a baby on its chest, all carefully wrapped in plastic film, just fit in a small box. He didn’t usually
keep anything he made. Once a model was finished, he recycled the clay. But this one he wanted to
save. Tag’s shoulders dropped. Sometimes he thought he should just give up the dream of making a
living with clay, forget it altogether. Set himself a different goal. He thought he was good, but
whenever he’d been to the cooperative and watched the potters, he’d felt like a kid at school
compared to them.
He looked around his little room. There was nothing else worth taking. If he was being honest, he
could have walked away from all of it. It was then that he realised he had no shoes. Fucking shit!
Tears threatened and he pushed them back. Nothing he’d lost was irreplaceable.
Tag went into the kitchen and ate four slices of toast to try and fill himself up. He put the money he
owed on the table with a note along with his spare keys. He’d left the door of his room open.
Kenzie came in. “Morning.”
“Morning.”
Kenzie read the note. “You’re leaving?”
“Yep, my mum asked me to go home.”
“Mum’s Sunday dinner today then, eh? Lucky you. What’s with the bare feet?”
“A long story. I need to buy new shoes, but I don’t have any to wear now.”
“What were you going to do? Walk barefoot to a shoe shop?”
Tag shrugged. Yes.
“I’ve got a pair of trainers you can have. They’re a bit too big for me.”
“Yeah? That would be great. Thanks.”
Kenzie paused at the door. “Are you in trouble?”
“I might be.”
His housemate nodded and Tag sighed. It wasn’t fair to say otherwise.
Kenzie came back with the trainers, which fit Tag perfectly.
“Could you do me another favour, Kenzie? I had my phone nicked yesterday. Could you text the
landlord and tell him I’ve moved out?”
“He’ll take another’s month’s rent from you for not giving him notice.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Kenzie made himself a coffee. “You want another drink?”
“Yes, please. I’ll put it in my travel mug. Help yourself to whatever food’s left when I’ve gone.
I’m not dragging that all the way to York. I was thinking about finding somewhere else down here but
going home seems the safest thing.”
“Is someone going to come looking for you? Is that why you’re leaving in the dark?”
“They might. But you guys won’t be in danger, I promise.” He hoped.
“Shit. What have you done?”
“I made a mistake.”
Kenzie squeezed Tag’s shoulder. “Let me write down our numbers so you can keep in touch.” He
pulled a page off the shopping list they stuck to the fridge and took out his phone. When he’d finished,
he handed the paper to Tag. “Call me, right? Let me know you’re okay.”
Tag nodded.
“Good luck, mate.” Kenzie went up to bed with his coffee.
Tag didn’t want to hang around. It was no longer safe. All he took of his food was the rest of his
loaf.
Once he was well away from the house, he felt better. A tiny part of him thought he should have
just stayed where he was in case someone turned up with his money. The bigger part of him thought he
was an idiot for imagining that was going to happen. Tag couldn’t chase them for it, so why would
they bother? If anyone turned up, it would be someone like the Master or Kareem. Thinking that made
him shudder. Tag might even be blamed for whatever Vadim had been up to.
There were no shops open yet so he couldn’t buy a phone. No libraries open on Sundays, so no
access to a computer, unless he found an Internet café. He thought about asking his bank to stop that
payment to the landlord, but he needed a phone for that. He’d buy one later, then get a train to some
random destination, but not York.
Tag walked all the way to Regent’s Park. It was too early for the gates to be open, so he lowered
his backpack and duffle over the fence and clambered over. He sat on the grass under a tree looking
out over the lake and took the paper bag with the doughnut out of his backpack and sat on the grass
looking out over the lake. He ate the doughnut and drank his coffee as he did the paper jigsaw.
He didn’t have all the pieces. He wasn’t even sure it was Vadim’s address anyway. The name was
mostly not there and the initial wasn’t a V. But then Vadim wasn’t his name. Tag peered at the bits of
paper. Con…something? A road name beginning with De and in Greenwich. There was no postcode.
As he was putting the bits of paper back into the bag, he noticed something had been written on
the back of the envelope in pencil. Tag turned the pieces over. This time, he was able to read the
address. Chason DD. Kirby Street. EC1 but the rest wasn’t there. Maybe it was worth a look. If
Vadim lived there, Tag could… What? Demand his money? Threaten to go to the police? Ask him to
fuck me?
He half-laughed. But he’d been promised that money and he needed it even more now. Maybe he
could ask Vadim to get it for him.
Tag decided to go to Euston Station and put his duffle in one of the nearby storage places. Then he
had to buy a phone, and a better pair of shoes if he was going to be doing a lot of walking, but he
needed to spend as little as possible. But first he needed some rest. He wedged his duffle up against
the tree to make a pillow and was soon asleep.

A few hours later, his feet were comfortable, he had a half-decent phone in his pocket, along with
a cheap wallet, and a bed booked for that night for only thirteen quid. It was in a dorm with eleven
others, but breakfast was included and there was wi-fi. He’d decided to go to Southampton tomorrow,
when the trains were busier with the Monday morning rush hour. He had the feeling the Master or
Kareem might already be looking for him. He wasn’t sure which was worse.
On his way to the hostel, he detoured to Kirby Street. Chason DD turned out to be a diamond
dealership. What connection did Vadim have with them? Something or nothing? Tag had no way of
finding out. But Vadim had been told something was now happening tomorrow. What if it had
something to do with this place? Tag hadn’t quite given up hope of those three thousand pounds.
Another morning in London wasn’t going to kill him. Hopefully.
The hostel was as he’d expected, basic and a bit noisy, but the bathroom was clean, people were
friendly and he could cope. Tag had a top bunk and there was a secure place to put his phone and
wallet. He thought for a while over whether to call Kenzie. He was curious to know if anyone had
come to look for him. Though once he’d phoned, Kenzie would have his number and that might not be
safe, not just for him but for Kenzie and the others. Was he overthinking this?
“Hi, it’s me,” Tag said.
“Hi, mate. Get to York safely?”
“Safe and sound. Did you tell the others I was sorry to leave without saying goodbye?”
“Yeah, I did. Hey, there was a man looking for you earlier.”
Tag’s stomach rolled over. “Shit? What was he like?”
 “Bit of a bruiser. Dark hair. Forties. Said he owed you some money.”
“Oh shit!” Could be the Master, Kareem or even Bruiser.
“I told him you’d gone north to your mum and we didn’t know the address or your new number.
He left his. Do you want it?”
“Yeah, text it. Thanks.”
“Are you sure he owes you money and not the other way round?”
“Positive.”
“Only, to be honest, unless it’s a lot, I think I’d forget about it. I didn’t like the look of him.”
“Yeah. Maybe you ought to delete my number just in case.”
“Fuck. Are you okay, Tag? Is there anything I can do?”
“No, but thanks for asking.”
Tag wasn’t sure what to do with the number. He had no idea which side his visitor was on. Both
sides were most likely trouble as far as he was concerned. But not having the money rankled. All that
and nothing to show for it but aches and bruises? And a stupid infatuation with a guy who had a gun?

Which was why, the next morning, he sat begging on Kirby Street, with a good view of the door to
the diamond dealers. Just in case.
 5
Today, Delaney’s name was Isaac. His hair was back to its usual shade of black, but long dark
curls, payos, hung either side of his face. He also had a thick black beard. He didn’t like the curls or
the beard but both were necessary, as was the black large-brimmed hat on his head. He sat in the back
of an Audi A6 with a Caleb who was disguised in the same way as him, and they were being driven
by a Simon, who wasn’t disguised at all. Fake names, and although Delaney knew their real identities,
they didn’t know his. It had been a condition of Delaney doing the job. Delaney didn’t like working
with others but this couldn’t be done on his own.
He should have been thinking about the job to come, but he was still mulling over what had
happened yesterday, questions circling in his head about Tag, Hassan, the Master and Barker. Fucking
Barker had rung again, trying to pull rank. Delaney’s conversation with the fuckwit had irritated both
of them but for different reasons. Barker had been insistent that Delaney take the USB straight to
Concorde House along with the engineered mask, but Delaney had refused. He’d be going in anyway
with the diamonds. Why did one day matter?
Barker hadn’t hidden his displeasure. Delaney had always found him condescending and arrogant,
but there was something about their conversation that was still niggling at him. Was there some nuance
that he’d missed? Barker’s dismissive attitude when Delaney had mentioned paying Tag the money he
was owed? Or the guy’s insistence that Tag had been a willing participant in what had gone on at
Harborne House?
Despite having completed the job he’d been paid for, Delaney had put a civilian in danger. That
Barker seemed okay about it felt…wrong. Delaney’s request to speak to Henry had been dismissed.
Not that it would stop Delaney calling him.
What was fucking chewing at him? Delaney found himself scratching at his fake beard and
dragged his fingers away. The way Barker had reacted to the idea that Norbury’s people might go
after Tag? If Tag was accused of doing what Delaney had slipped out of the bedroom to do, how
would Tag react? He’d open his mouth and tell them everything, not that he knew much. But it was
Delaney on the line as well then.
Barker had just thrown in at the end of the conversation that the information on the USB was for
upper-level clearance only. In other words, not for Delaney’s eyes. Except was it a throwaway line?
Delaney had made a copy. Not that he’d had time to look at it yet.
Could be that it was none of those things niggling at him. Just someone with big brown eyes and
the memory of those sobs Delaney had heard coming from Tag’s room after he’d slammed the door.
Delaney had survived as long as he had by not caring about anyone other than himself and it was
fucking irritating that Tag had pressed buttons he hadn’t known he had.
And then there was Hassan, who hadn’t been what he seemed. He’d asked too many questions in
the car, not enough about the things Delaney had expected him to be talking about. Delaney wasn’t
sure what to make of him. He’d definitely been disappointed when Delaney told him it was his first
time there. From the questions Hassan asked about how he’d got his invite, and whether Delaney
knew what else Norbury did, he knew it was more than a casual interest. Hassan had even given him
his card. Delaney had claimed he’d not brought any with him, but had offered Hassan a phone number.
“I’ll drop you here, right?” Simon said, breaking into Delaney’s thoughts.
“Fine,” Delaney said.
He and Caleb got out of the car and Simon drove away. Delaney looked around and slipped on his
sunglasses. Get your mind in the game. If Simon didn’t reappear exactly when he was supposed to,
he and Caleb would be in trouble. Delaney didn’t like these sorts of jobs at all, but he spoke fluent
Hebrew and the jeweller they were going to rob was Jewish.
He and Caleb looked like Orthodox Jews with their long black coats and white shirts. They didn’t
look like trouble but maybe it depended on your definition of trouble. Neither of them carried a
briefcase. Each of them carried a gun, usefully hidden by their long coats. Delaney hoped to hell they
wouldn’t need to fire them. Timing was critical. Cameras needed to be off at the right moment, the
two panic buttons disabled, the phone line rendered inoperative. All at the same time. Barker had a
guy on that. Mobiles were still an issue, which was why speed was critical.
This had been planned based on a tip that Chason would be the one to fence diamonds stolen from
the missing Prince Ahsan. The diamonds had come into his possession on Friday.
Caleb checked his watch and pressed the buzzer to indicate they wanted to come into the store.
The door release sounded and they were allowed in. Then they were fast. The two male assistants
were gagged, zip-tied and blindfolded before they knew what hit them. While Caleb was moving them
out of sight and out of reach of their phones, Delaney ran up the stairs and burst into Chason’s room
with his gun out.
“Away from the desk!” he barked in Hebrew.
One moment of stunned shock was all Delaney needed. Moments later, Chason was zip-tied to his
chair, well away from the panic button. It should be disabled but Delaney wasn’t taking any chances.
He was relieved to see the three screens on the right of the desk were blank, so the cameras were off.
“The police are on their way,” Chason snarled.
Even if he’d had time, Delaney doubted Chason would have called the police. Rent-a thug, yes,
but not the police.
“The code to the safe or my colleague will shoot your assistants.” One of them was Chason’s son,
Cain.
Chason kept his mouth shut. Delaney lifted his watch to his mouth. “Do it,” he said.
“No!” Chason yelped.
“Hold,” Delaney muttered into his perfectly ordinary watch.
Moments later, Delaney had two bags of diamonds in his pockets. Plenty more in the safe that he
ignored. Chason had seen which ones he’d taken.
“Who offered you these diamonds?” Delaney asked.
Chason shook his head. “They’ll kill me.”
“I’ll kill your son.”
“The name was a lie. I checked.”
“But you still bought them.”
“A bargain. How could I resist?”
“One man? Two?”
“One man. Arab.”
So why had he said they’ll kill me?
“Recorded on camera?”
“I don’t keep recordings.”
Delaney could have pushed, but getting the diamonds back was what was important. He wrapped
tape around Chason’s eyes and mouth, and hoped it hurt like hell when it was pulled off. Delaney ran
downstairs and went back into the shop to find Caleb pointing his gun at Tag. Oh shit!
“Vadim?” Tag said.
“You’re mistaken.” Delaney changed the tone of his voice.
 “Don’t you recognise me with my clothes on?”
“Zoobie,” Delaney muttered. Fuck it in Hebrew.
“I just want my money,” Tag said.
“You owe him money?” Caleb asked.
“No, I don’t.” Delaney glared at Tag. “I have no idea who he is.”
“Should we shoot him?”
What the fuck? Delaney hoped he wasn’t serious.
Delaney caught hold of Tag’s arm and dragged him out of the shop. Caleb turned the sign to
‘closed’ and pulled the door to. It automatically locked.
The car was where they’d expected it to be. Delaney pushed Tag into the back, climbed in after
him and pressed his gun into his ribs.
“Keep quiet.”
Tag looked wide-eyed and petrified.
“What are we going to do with him?” Caleb asked.
“I’ll deal with him.”
“I don’t know you,” Tag said. “I thought I did but the guy I thought you were is better looking.
Much better looking.”
You little shit. Though Delaney wanted to laugh.
Simon was driving them to where their second vehicle was parked. Behind the tinted windows no
one could see them shedding their disguises. Delaney was shocked Tag had recognised him.
“I won’t say anything.” Tag stared straight at Delaney, then down at the gun. “I just thought you
were someone I knew and… I was wrong. The guy I knew had white hair. You do know there are
cameras everywhere, right? I mean the police are probably on their way to that address right now.”
“Shut up,” Delaney snapped. He balled up the coat, hat and the rest, and put his gun inside,
pushing it all into a plastic bag.
Simon pulled into a multi-storey car park, drove up to the third floor and parked next to a tatty
Zafira people carrier. Delaney kept Tag in the car while Caleb and Simon exited the Audi to make
sure there was no one around before they swapped vehicles.
“I’m sorry,” Tag whispered. “How was I to know you were incognito?”
“What I was wearing didn’t give it away?”
“Sorry.”
“You will be.”
Delaney dragged Tag out by his backpack when Caleb gave the all clear, only for Tag to squirm
free of it and bolt towards the ramp that led to the level below. To Delaney’s horror, Caleb took out
his gun.
“Let him go,” Delaney snapped.
“Seriously?” Caleb stared at him.
“He dropped his backpack. I can…” As he watched Tag running off, he had a sudden thought and
put his hand in his right pocket. The little fucker! “Pick us up on the way and bring his backpack.”
Delaney bolted after Tag who was fast, but Delaney was faster. A floor below, he brought him
down. Two startled women were close by putting bags in their car and Delaney called out, “Police!
Stay where you are.”
Delaney moved so he could roll Tag over. Blood trickled from a graze on his cheek, and he
looked terrified. Delaney took the bag of diamonds from Tag and yanked him to his feet, pulling his
arms behind his back.
 “You owe me,” Tag said.
“Not that much, you fucking idiot. Say anything else and you’re dead.”
Seconds later, Delaney was in the back of the Zafira with Tag, and they were heading out onto the
street. He handed Tag a tissue to clean his face and when it still looked a mess, Delaney grabbed his
hair and held him still while he did it. Delaney’s heart was still pounding hard.

The drive to Margate seemed to last twice as long as it should have. Tag had stayed quiet, sitting
as far away from him as he could get. He sat clutching his backpack, staring out of the window. The
entire journey was spent in silence. Whenever Caleb started to speak, Delaney shut him down and
eventually, he got the message.
Simon pulled up just outside the town centre. Once Caleb got out of the car, Delaney dropped an
envelope of money for Simon onto the front passenger seat. After he’d collected his bag from the
boot, he tugged Tag from the vehicle along with the disguise he’d worn, and Simon drove away.
“Do you trust him to get rid of that gear you were wearing?” Tag said to Caleb who’d not taken
his disguise from the car.
Caleb thumped him in the stomach. Tag oofed and doubled over.
“I’m not fucking happy about him,” Caleb said. “He’s seen too much.”
“I’ll deal with him.” Delaney had a tight hold of Tag’s arm.
When they reached Caleb’s car, Delaney paid him off too. Caleb stepped right into Tag’s space.
“You open your mouth and you’re dead. You understand?”
Tag nodded.
Caleb drove off and Tag shuddered. “I don’t think much of your friends.”
“They don’t think much of you either.” Delaney let go of him. “Keep walking.”
Tag looked out at the churning sea, and rubbed his stomach as they headed out of town along the
coast road going south.
“You could just let me go,” Tag muttered. “I’m not going to say anything.”
“What were you doing on Kirby Street?” Delaney asked.
“Thinking about buying a diamond tie pin.”
Despite being pissed off, he laughed. “Or?”
“Maybe a diamond stud for my ear.”
“Your ears aren’t pierced.”
“Not yet. Where are you taking me?”
“To my car.” Delaney nudged him to turn right down the next road.
“What are we doing in Margate?”
Delaney didn’t answer.
“It has a nice sandy beach.”
Delaney sighed.
“If you’re not going to tell me what’s happening and why we’ve come to Margate, I’m not telling
you why I was on Kirby Street,” Tag said.
Delaney smiled to himself. “Why do you think we’re here?”
“If it’s not the beach, then a good fish and chip shop?”
Delaney huffed.
“I guess you knew by the time we got here whether anyone was following or not. Maybe you live
here but more likely Tweedledee and Tweedledum do. Or near here.”
Delaney nudged Tag over to a garage and unlocked it.
 When he pulled up the door, Tag gasped when he saw the sports car. “This is yours?”
“Get in.”
Tag climbed into the passenger seat. Delaney put the bags in the boot, backed out, then locked the
garage again. As he set off, he felt as if he could breathe more easily. He drove back to the coast road
heading south. The more miles he was from Margate, the better.
“Going to answer the question now?” Delaney asked. “Why were you on Kirby Street?”
“I found an envelope in your other car. It was ripped up, but I put it back together. The name and
address of the diamond place was on the back.”
Delaney gaped at him. Someone had been fucking careless, but not him. Barker would know
who’d had the Mercedes before him, though the vehicles were supposed to be valeted between jobs
as well as having their number plates changed. Why had that address been written down anyway?
“When you drove me back to my place, I heard you talking on the phone about something being
arranged for today. I took a chance.”
That was his fault. He hadn’t thought Tag was asleep, but picking that up from the call was sharp.
“Okay,” Delaney said. “So now I know how, explain why.”
“I was promised at least a thousand pounds by the Master to take part in that pony gymkhana, then
another three by whoever organises you. When you left me in that bedroom, it wasn’t hard to guess
you were doing something that those in Harborne House weren’t going to like, and because I ran, if
they find out what you did, I’ll probably get the blame along with you. Maybe instead of you.”
Delaney glanced at him.
“I’m not stupid,” Tag muttered.
“No.” Just a pain in my arse.
“I have a GCSE in Putting My Foot In It. And another in Making The Wrong Choice. Top grades
in both.”
Delaney chuckled.
“Both sides know where I live. I couldn’t sit and wait for the knock on the door, so I moved out.
I’d lost my job anyway. I’ve had to buy a new phone and wallet, and shoes. I couldn’t figure out how
I’d lost one of the only two pairs I had, but now I think someone in your organisation nicked them to
make sure I wore the ones that I did, so they could track me. Currently, I’m sleeping in a hostel, in a
twelve-bed dorm, with no job and no prospects. My mother would be so disappointed.”
“You have a mother?”
“Basic biology. We all have mothers. We just don’t all get to keep them for long.”
Delaney glanced across. “So you don’t have a mother?”
“No family. Unless you want to be my Daddy?”
Delaney laughed. “No.”
“I’d be a good boy for you.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
Tag stretched out his legs and arms, then gave a heavy sigh and curled in on himself again like an
armadillo. “I got drawn into something that I’d never have done if I hadn’t been offered that money. I
had a life and it might not have been great, but it’s been tipped upside down, everything’s fallen out
and now I have nothing.”
“What do you want?” Delaney asked.
“A TAG Heuer watch?”
“Is that why you’re called Tag?”
“One of the reasons.”
 “You’re not getting a TAG Heuer watch.”
“If there’s no money, then how about a job?”
Delaney tried one last test. “You can still make your money on the streets.”
Tag sucked in a breath. “Is that what you think I did? I told you I’d never had sex with anyone for
money. Didn’t you believe me?”
Delaney heard the hurt in his voice. So Barker had lied.
“I worked in a pub. I was a barman and a waiter. Then the Master made me an offer and I
thought…why not? A thousand pounds for one night? I could do that. A one-off. It might not seem
much money to you, but it would have made a big difference to me.
“I made my way home that night still wavering, because I’m not stupid. The Master had said it
was legal and not dangerous, but that meant nothing. I knew I probably wasn’t going to like what they
wanted me to do. If I’d known he wanted to be called the Master, I wouldn’t have said yes.
Probably.”
“What did you think they wanted?”
“I knew sex would be involved and I sat on the bus going home from work talking myself in and
out of going to the party. I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it. Then I got home and found two
blokes in my room and one thousand turned to four. That was a life-changing sum. And you know
what? My life has changed, except not for the better. And it got a whole lot worse this morning. I’m
sorry I dropped you in it. I won’t say anything to anyone.”
He sounded choked, and Delaney pulled up and turned to look at him. Tag fumbled with the door
opener and scrambled from the car, stalking off onto the shingle beach. Delaney switched off the
engine and followed, the stones sliding beneath his feet as he pursued Tag down to the water.
“Your name isn’t even Vadim, is it?” Tag asked when he reached him.
“No.”
“What is it?”
“Delaney.” It wasn’t. Not exactly. But it was the name he was most known by, the name he was
most used to hearing.
“I bet it isn’t.”
Delaney shrugged. “Call me what you like.”
“Daddy?”
“Except that.”
“It would have been easier to flounce off on a sandy beach.” Tag picked up a pebble and tried to
skim it. It plopped straight down. “I’m not looking for a Daddy. I can look after myself.”
The next three stones went straight down.
“Guess that sums me up,” Tag said. “No joyful bouncing over the waves, I just sink. Though I do
keep trying.” He threw another and it disappeared.
“These are the wrong sort of stones. You need flat ones to skim. Here let me show you.”
Delaney’s jumped three times, Tag’s went straight down.
“Stand behind me,” Delaney said. “Put your hand on mind and feel the way I throw.”
Except having Tag standing so close made the breath catch in Delaney’s throat and the next stone
he launched went straight down.
“Never mind.” Tag pulled away and wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m wrong in all sorts of
ways. I find it hard to think of ways in which I’m right.”
There was a brief look of vulnerability on Tag’s face. When he tipped back his face to the sun and
swallowed, Delaney was mesmerised by the slow slide of his throat. Oh God. The wind caught Tag’s
hair, blowing it across his closed eyes. He didn’t miss the grim determination in Tag’s jaw. After all
he’d gone through, he was still defiant, though Delaney hadn’t forgotten the way Tag had sobbed when
he’d left him in his room, or how for the first time in Delaney’s life, he’d wanted to go back and
check someone was okay.
There were plenty of ways in which Tag was right and not wrong. Except one of them was
dangerous because Delaney wanted to pull him back to the car, throw him face-down over the bonnet,
and fuck him—hard.
“They were all rent boys,” Delaney said.
Tag turned to him. “My Little Ponies?”
“All except you, it seems.”
Tag chewed his lip. “Wasn’t I one too? I knew what I was being paid for, even if I haven’t been
paid.”
“Did you fuck someone while I wasn’t watching?”
“No.”
“Well, then. The only reason the Master went after you was because we nobbled one of his
ponies, the only one who’d been invited that we’d been able to identify. He was deemed unsuitable to
act as the distraction I needed. Norbury is superstitious. He needed an even number of ponies so we
knew the Master would be looking for another. So he was watched. One of my colleagues saw him
choose you and decided you were suitable. I didn’t know you worked in a pub. That was not what I
was told.”
“That makes me feel so much better, telling me that he thought I looked like someone who’d fuck
for sex. Thanks a lot.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
Tag sighed. “When we were at Harborne House, I thought you were maybe one of the good guys.
But then you robbed that diamond place. I already knew you had a gun. I’d seen it in the glove box
when you went into the shop to buy me water.”
Shit. “The mistakes I’m making, it’s time I retired.” Maybe it was.
“Who do you work for?”
“Myself.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“I’m freelance.”
“You still work for someone. You have a boss.”
Delaney smiled.
“Are you thinking I’m smarter than I look?”
“I’m thinking that you’re trouble, and that I should have let Caleb put a bullet in you.”
“But you didn’t. You wouldn’t have. Would you?” Tag stared at him, clearly not knowing whether
to look relieved or anxious.
Delaney hadn’t noticed until now just how dark his eyes were. Like pools of chocolate. Big and
soulful with impossibly thick lashes. “I wasn’t going to let you get hurt. Though I’d been prepared to
let you go until I discovered you’d lifted that bag of diamonds from my pocket. How did you manage
that?”
“Same way I just took both of them.”
Delaney clapped his hands to his hips and glared at him.
Tag gave them back.
“You’re good.”
 “I know. So, are you going to give me a job? I could work with you.”
“You’d get us both killed.”
Tag pouted.
“Where do you want to go? I’ll give you the three thousand and put you on a train. I’d suggest you
don’t return to London.”
“I don’t want your money. That’s not the point.”
Tag turned and headed back to the car. Delaney caught up with him.
“They came after me,” Tag said. “Your side or the other. One of my housemates told me a dark-
haired bloke was looking for me yesterday. When I left the house, I told them I was going to family in
York. Quick thinking, right?”
Delaney thought about calling Barker and instead pressed to call Henry.
“How are things?” Henry asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“Chason didn’t call the police.”
They hadn’t thought he would. He was probably packing his bags and trying to run with his son.
He wouldn’t get far. He either owed the person he was buying the diamonds from, or the one who he
was selling them too.
“Do you have a problem?” Henry asked.
Delaney looked at Tag.
“Too long a pause,” Henry said.
“Did you arrange for a tracker in Tag’s shoe?”
Tag’s eyes widened.
“Yes.”
“They might have found it. His clothes and shoes are still at Harborne House.”
“Ah. Well, it doesn’t matter since you got what you went for.”
“It does matter. Did you send anyone to Tag’s place yesterday?”
“No.”
“Not even to pay him?”
Henry hesitated. “Has someone approached him?”
“It seems so. It shouldn’t come as a surprise. Maybe they’re aware of what I did, or what
someone did. They might suspect him rather than me. He ran. He’s the obvious culprit. If they get their
hands on Tag, they’ll soon realise it’s not him they should be looking for but me.”
“Why are you in touch with Tag? When are you going to bring everything in?”
“Tomorrow.” Delaney ended the call and switched off the phone.
“You can still be tracked, even with the phone off.”
Delaney eyerolled. “Undercover Operative 101: default setting for location services is disabled.”
“Am I going dark with you?” Tag asked.
Delaney let out a short laugh. “Yes.”
“Does that mean we have to wear vampire outfits, because my stuff’s in London,” Tag said
quietly. “It’s at a storage facility near Euston Station.”
“We’ll go and get it tomorrow, Dracula.”
Delaney unlocked the car and they got in. “Hand me your phone.”
“Why?”
“At least one of your former housemates has your number. If any of them pass it on, you can be
located.”
 “Kenzie promised to delete it, but better safe than sorry, I guess.” Tag handed it over, then a
moment later, asked, “Why did they have to put a tracker on me?”
Delaney raised his eyebrows.
Tag huffed. “Yeah, I get to track me but…”
“They like to dot all the i’s, cross the t’s.” Delaney sighed. “I feel like going for a drive. Clearing
my head.” He needed time to think what to do. He also needed to stop thinking of what he wanted to
do to the guy sitting next to him.
“Can we have the top down?”
Delaney pressed the button to retract the roof. He glanced at Tag as he set off and smiled when he
saw the expression of delight on Tag’s face, a smile that was all sunshine.
“This is magic,” Tag said. “I’ve never been in a convertible before.”
Delaney drove down the coast with Tag exclaiming every few minutes over something he’d seen.
Windsurfer, amazing bird—seagull, jet ski, kite, another amazing bird—another seagull, a cloud
shaped like a seagull. He was irritating and amusing at the same time. Delaney paid the toll to go onto
the private road that ran between two golf courses at Sandwich Bay. His was the only car in the
parking area he pulled into, and they sat looking out at the water.
“How long since you’ve seen the sea?” Delaney asked.
“Not since I was a kid.”
“You’re still a kid.”
“I’m twenty-four. Are you old enough to be my dad?”
“No, I’m fucking not.” Then Delaney saw the smile on Tag’s face. Little shit.
He unfastened his seat belt, pressed the button to move his seat back, then reclined it until he was
lying stretched out with his face in the sun, wondering what the fuck he’d done over the last couple of
days, what the fuck he was doing now, and more to the point—what the fuck he was going to do. He
heard the click of Tag’s belt, then felt him sliding onto the seat, wedging himself at his side, his mouth
stopping a whisper away from Delaney’s neck.
“What was wrong with your seat?” Delaney asked.
“View’s better from this one.”
Delaney could feel Tag breathing on him, his exhalations coming out in shaky bursts. Then a hand
settled on his waist and tugged at his shirt until it came out of his trousers. I should stop him. Tag let
his fingers rest on Delaney’s bare skin and Delaney gave a heavy sigh. I’ll stop him in a minute.
“Are you tempted to keep a diamond?” Tag asked. “Just one? Sneak it out of the bag? Would they
even notice?”
“I have enough money.”
“Can you ever have enough money?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know that.” Tag was smiling, his fingers drawing lazy circles on Delaney’s abs, making
his flesh quiver.
“What’s the point in having more than you need?”
“Have you got everything you need?” Tag asked.
“Possibly not, but maybe I want something money can’t buy.”
“Kids?”
“No.”
Tag’s erection was pressed against Delaney’s thigh. Delaney hadn’t been hard, but now he was
getting that way. Inevitable was the word in his head. This had felt inevitable from the moment he’d
seen Tag walk into that room and up onto the stage with the others. A pony but not a pony. Maybe he’d
known from when he’d been shown Tag’s photo. Not his type, but…
“I could be useful. I put on the performance of a lifetime for that recording. You have a very big
dick by the way, I kept talking about it.”
Delaney groaned. “Did you?”
“Yeah, they’ll all be jealous. And I can pick pockets, remember.”
“That’s true, but pick mine again and you’ll be sorry.”
“So what now?” Tag asked. “And I don’t mean now now, because even though I’m hard as nails,
we might get spotted. But I don’t want you to just fuck me and dump me, even if you give me three
thousand quid. Especially not if you do that.”
“Sure about that?”
“Yes, I fucking am.”
Tag moved so that he lay over him, the insides of his thighs pressing against the outsides of
Delaney’s, their cocks together with too much material between them.
“I’m not sure what’s the best thing to do.” Delaney sighed.
Tag gave a quiet laugh. “We don’t have a lot of choices at the moment. But I could do this.”
He came up on his knees, pressed his mouth to Delaney’s and at the same time slid his hand inside
the front of Delaney’s trousers and boxers straight onto his cock.
Delaney gasped into Tag’s mouth and when Tag slid his thumb over his slit, rubbing in the
wetness, Delaney performed the greatest miracle of his life, and lifted Tag back onto his seat. He
tucked in his shirt and put on his seat belt.
“I’m going to take you home,” Delaney said.
 6
Home? Tag swallowed hard. What did that mean? Well, he knew what the word home meant
and…whatever his name was couldn’t be taking him back to Camden because he didn’t live there
anymore. So his home?
“Your home?” Tag wanted to be sure.
“Yes.”
That was sort of good and…good. Is it? Strangely enough, Tag felt safe with Delaney, even though
there was a gun in the boot, even though he’d lifted Tag off when things had been getting interesting,
and Tag hadn’t imagined how interesting. They’d both been hard.
“Tell me your real name,” Tag said. Then waited. And waited. “Are you thinking about it?”
“No.”
Despite his disappointment, Tag smiled. “So…shall I call you Del?”
“No.”
“Lane?”
“No.”
“Elane?”
“You’re annoying me.”
“Ney? Laney? De?”
When he didn’t answer, Tag said, “Delaney.”
“Finally. I thought you were sharper than that.”
“I’m going to get you to tell me your real name.”
“Not going to happen.”
“It will.”
“I can’t trust you with my real name.”
That hurt, but Tag didn’t show it. He just shrugged. “So, are you like my personal bodyguard
now?”
Delaney shot him an incredulous glance.
“Well, you are, aren’t you? I mean I’m not safe out on the streets. The pony crew might be looking
for me. You said that. I might blab. Not because I wanted to but…”
“And how would they find you?”
Tag thought about it. “If I use my debit card, maybe they have a way of tracing me.”
“Only to the point where you used the card, assuming they have that capability. Though if you used
the card in a supermarket, they might think you’d go back there, so they could keep an eye on the
place. Any other ideas?”
“I paid for the hostel with my debit card. I used it to buy stuff yesterday. I didn’t buy a ticket to
York, though I might have used cash. Hostels shouldn’t give out the names of people who are staying
there but they might to the police, or to people pretending to be the police. Maybe one of the guests at
Harborne House was a policeman. Was that what you were there for? To find out who everyone was,
even though they were wearing masks? If they think I’ve done whatever it was that you did, checked
their files, looked on their computers or whatever, then how far would they go to find me? Do I need
to go into witness protection?” Tag was only half-joking.
Delaney gave a heavy sigh. “Do you ever shut up?”
Tag pressed his lips together. But he was right. Maybe Delaney worked for MI5, or some other
government agency. Maybe he was a bad guy. But he’s taking me home. Which made Tag think he
wasn’t going to get killed by Delaney, at least. Not yet anyway.
“Have you ever shot anyone?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
Shit. “Killed them?”
“Yes.”
“On purpose?”
“When they didn’t shut up.”

Tag didn’t mean to fall asleep. He meant to watch the route they were taking, so that if he needed
to run, he knew which way to go, but he woke with a jolt when the roof of the car came down over his
head. They were parked at the side of an ordinary-looking, stone-built detached house. There were
fields ahead and to the sides but no other houses that he could see. When Delaney got out of the car,
Tag got out too and, clutching his backpack, followed him to the back door. He took in the small
collection of debris caught up in a spider’s web in the door crack, and knew it hadn’t been opened for
some time.
As they went in, Delaney disabled a burglar alarm with his back to Tag, hiding what he was
doing.
“When were you last here?” Tag asked. A sort of test really, though he suspected he was going to
get lied to over and over by a guy who wouldn’t even trust him with his name.
“A month ago.”
Oh. Maybe that wasn’t a lie.
They walked into a modern kitchen with blue units and a grey tiled floor. The place smelt a bit
fusty but it was tidy. No plates in the sink, no piles of post or newspapers, no clothes slung over chair
backs. Delaney unbolted and unlocked French doors at the rear that led out onto a deck with a table
and chairs, and pushed them open. The living area was connected to the kitchen. There were two
large blue couches, a coffee table and a TV attached to the wall. A shelving unit to the left of the TV
held row after row of books, mostly paperbacks.
When windows were opened at the front of the cottage, Tag felt the breeze flowing through the
room. There were a few paintings on the walls, all of them landscapes or seascapes, and Tag liked
them. But no ornaments, no knick-knacks, no photographs. Not a home.
“I need to go and buy food,” Delaney said. “There’s a guest room upstairs you can use. Don’t go
out. Don’t answer the door, not that I expect anyone to come knocking. I’ll be an hour or so.”
He walked past Tag through to the kitchen.
“What if you don’t come back?” Tag asked.
Delaney turned and raised his eyebrows.
Tag shrugged. “Car crash, spontaneous combustion, alien abduction? Can I have your room if I
like it better?”
Delaney laughed and left through the back door.
Tag exhaled. He didn’t know what to make of the guy. What was real? Was this even his house?
He put his backpack down on one of the couches and explored.
Just four doors upstairs. The first one led to a bathroom with a shower over the bath. There was a
pile of neatly folded blue and grey towels in a cupboard. Tag ran his fingers over them. They were so
soft. He swallowed hard. Full bottles of bodywash, shampoo and conditioner were stored in the
vanity unit. Everything looked unopened.
The next door was an airing cupboard, the one after opened onto what he thought was the guest
room. A double bed, empty chest of drawers and equally empty wardrobe. Was this where Delaney
wanted him to sleep? Not with him? Sleeping with him wouldn’t be a hardship. Tag was a bit
disconcerted that he wanted to after what Delaney had told him. Is he really a killer?
Tag looked out of the window onto the back of the house. At the bottom of the garden, which was
mostly lawn—and the grass looked recently cut—was the field he’d seen earlier. It was planted with
some sort of cereal crop that was waving in the wind. In the distance, on the left, he could see a
church tower and the roofs of houses. He wished he knew where he was. He wished he’d taken all his
money out of the bank because now he was going to worry when he used his card.
Delaney’s room wasn’t much different to the guest room, just a little bigger. There was a book at
the side of the bed, a thriller by a Scandi writer Tag hadn’t heard of. Jussi Adler-Olsen. There were
clothes in the chest of drawers and the wardrobe, but not a lot. Nice clothes though. Lacoste polos,
Calvin Klein boxers, Paul Smith shirts… Casual and smart wear. The sort of clothes Tag couldn’t
afford. The ensuite had a huge shower and more of the same towels, and along with shampoo, razors
and deodorant, there was lube and condoms.
Did Delaney have a boyfriend? A partner? A husband even? It didn’t feel like it, but what did Tag
know? Nothing he’d seen had told him much about Delaney. The guy liked things to be neat—
possibly. He liked the colour blue—possibly. He liked to read. Unless the books were just for show,
bought in bulk from some charity shop. He’d not been here for a few weeks at least and it didn’t feel
like his home. Were the lube and condoms for show too?
Tag went back downstairs and looked in every cupboard and drawer, and only found the sort of
things that any house would have. Pots, pans, plates, glasses, cutlery… One thing that puzzled him
was that there was food in the fridge and freezer. Not fresh food, but enough to eat that Delaney hadn’t
needed to go off to the shops right then. They could have had pasta and pesto, for a start. Defrosted a
loaf or eaten beefburgers and buns. There were even bottles of beer and wine. So why had he left?
The other thing that nagged at him was the thought that there was something he was missing.
Maybe a secret place where Delaney kept stuff he didn’t want anyone to find. Somewhere maybe that
he’d keep that gun. Any hold Tag could have over him, any information he could use made it
worthwhile looking again. So he did another search, this time with different eyes, tapping walls,
feeling for hidden panels, fumbling for catches in odd places. Tag started to sing as he snooped.
Maybe it was nerves, but the place was too quiet.
He found a box hidden at the back of the woodpile next to the woodburning stove. Just a tattered
biscuit tin, the sort Tag might have put his treasures in when he was a kid. Inside were two UK
passports with Delaney’s picture but two different names. Scott Butler and David Walsh. And one US
passport with the name Ryan Ellis. Tag didn’t think any of those names were Delaney’s either. There
was also a wodge of cash: pounds, euros and US dollars. And six mobile phones and chargers. He
put everything back.
Tag almost wished he’d not found it. He thought about going up into the attic, but what else did he
need to know? Delaney was an under-the-radar guy. The sort of bloke it was dangerous to know, but
one that Tag had to currently rely on. He grabbed a picnic blanket from the utility room, plastic
covered on one side, material on the other, chose a book from the shelf at random, then went out onto
the lawn.
He unfolded the blanket, flapped it into the air and let it fall. Then he stripped to his boxers and
lay down in the sun. He tried to read, but his mind was racing too fast to concentrate. Did he already
know too much for Delaney to let him go? But if he could get Delaney to like him, he wouldn’t want
to get rid of him. Would he? The Stockholm Syndrome thing? Could I fake it?
 A guy like Delaney would see through him in a second. Why do I even like him? He’s dangerous.
Oh God, maybe that’s why. Different and dangerous. And sexy and good-looking and… Oh fuck it.
He rescued me. No one had ever saved Tag from anything. Delaney had saved him twice. Once at
Harborne House and the second time today when that guy had held that gun on him. Maybe he didn’t
need to fake the kidnap syndrome. Tag wanted to stay with him and even if Delaney didn’t care for
him in the way Tag would have liked, maybe that would change.

Delaney had no intention of being away for an hour. He went to the local shop, picked up a
selection of items and was soon on his way back. But instead of pulling onto the drive, he continued
past the house, parked in the entrance to a field, a spot he’d used before, and called Henry.
“Can you talk freely now?” Henry asked.
“Yes.”
“I assume you had the young man with you, which is somewhat of a surprise, considering you told
me that you’d delivered him back to where he lived. What the hell is going on?”
“I did deliver him back. But when I came down into the shop after dealing with Chason, Tag was
standing there. He’d found a ripped-up envelope on the driver’s side of the car on the way back from
Harborne House. On the back of the envelope, someone had scribbled the Kirby Street details. Not
me. Who had the Mercedes before me? Why wasn’t it valeted?”
Henry sighed. “I’ll find out. Rap some knuckles. But how the hell did he figure out it was
happening today?”
“Tag was with me yesterday when I had a call from Barker telling me when it was happening. Tag
put a very obtuse two and two together and was on Kirby Street when we arrived at the dealers. He
recognised me.”
“But you were in Jewish garb.”
“He still recognised me.”
“Fuck.”
“He’s bright. And not the rent boy I was told he was.”
“Anthony told me Tag was happy to accept the money to go to the party. He knew sex would be
involved.”
“Barker’s lying.”
Henry tsked. “He’s your colleague. You’d believe someone you hardly know over Anthony?”
“Yes. After I’d delivered Tag to his place, he packed and left. Tag was clever enough to plant the
misinformation that he was going to York to his mother’s, in case anyone came calling. And they did.
They might have looked for him at the station. They wouldn’t have found him. They might have traced
his new phone number, started to trace him, got into his bank account. He’s a loose end.”
“And a liability.”
“That I’m dealing with. Norbury has no reason to think Tag and I were working together. But…
Tag disappeared. It makes him look guilty of something, and all he’s guilty of is agreeing to do this
work in the first place.”
“Hmm. Have you heard from Norbury or Feely?”
“No. I’m surprised they’ve not been in contact.”
“This could work to our advantage. You should get in touch with them. They’d expect you to be
pissed off you didn’t get what you paid for. Say you want to go to the next event to make up for the
disappointment of this one.”
“Isn’t what’s on the USB going to be enough?”
 “Since I don’t have it yet, I don’t know. Call them and complain about Tag. If they know
someone’s been into their system, he’s the obvious culprit and it keeps you clean.”
“At the cost of making Tag dirty.”
“True, but he’s of no value to us.”
Delaney tightened his jaw. “You’d risk my safety if they catch him. They’d find out about the
Kirby Street job as well. He hasn’t even been paid. He’d disappear if he was. But I get the feeling
you don’t intend to pay him.”
Henry’s silence told him everything. Shit. For one horrible moment, Delaney wondered if it
hadn’t been Norbury’s men who’d gone to Tag’s place, but Henry’s.
“What do you want to do?” Henry asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
“I need those diamonds here along with the information you got from Harborne House.”
“Tomorrow.” Delaney ended the call and made another to Feely on his Vadim phone.
“Vadim,” Feely said. “How are you?”
“Still pissed off. Did you find little fucker?”
“No.”
Delaney swore in Russian. “Is not good. Will he open mouth? He better not.”
“We’re looking for him.”
“He cost me lot of money. Very expensive fuck. Good but not that good. Maybe hide-and-seek was
bad idea but how could he leave with no clothes, no shoes? He had to have help. I feel cheated.”
“Understood. I’m sure we can find a way to make it up to you.”
Yes! “When you find him, make sure you call me. I kill him myself.”
Feely gave a quiet chuckle.
“You think I’m joking?” Delaney mentally crossed his fingers and took a risk. “Play different sort
of hide-and-seek. Different sort of forfeit for loser.” Then he laughed as if that had been a joke.
“That could be arranged.”
“Great! I fuck him to death.”
Feely snorted.
“I’m serious.”
“We have an event that you might be interested in. At a discount because of your disappointing
experience this time.”
“Event?”
“Take new number. This phone going to die soon. I fuck it to death.”
Feeley laughed and Delaney reeled off the number then turned the phone off. After pocketing the
SIM card, he got out of the car and slammed the phone on the ground, stamped on the pieces and
kicked them into the hedgerow. His heart was racing. Hopefully, the information on the USB was
enough, they’d find information about the prince and Delaney would never have had to contact these
guys again, but he’d opened a door. Were they really talking about killing Tag? Was that what had
happened to Ahsan?
He slipped back to the house on foot. As he reached the open window at the front, he heard Tag
singing. Singing? He had a good voice. Instead of going inside, Delaney waited. It didn’t take long to
work out that Tag was going through the house, checking everything out. It made Delaney smile.
Though when he looked through the window and saw Tag had found the box at the back of the log
pile, he stopped smiling. He couldn’t see whether or not Tag had taken anything from it, but when he
put it back, Delaney returned to the car and drove back.
 As he put away the shopping, he spotted Tag lying on the lawn. Delaney checked the contents of
the box and everything was there. He added the two bags of diamonds, the USB and the mask, and
carried the box into the kitchen. Once he’d slid the fridge out of position, he pressed the piece of
wood that opened a panel at the back, which revealed a small area under the stairs. He put the box
into the backpack that was hidden there and left it in the compartment.
Once the fridge was back in place, he opened two beers, toed off his shoes, and went outside.
Tag turned as he approached, then sat up and smiled, holding out his hand.
Delaney dropped down beside him. “Who says one is for you?”
“Please?”
“Let’s see if you can answer three questions truthfully.” Delaney took a swig of his beer. “What’s
Tag short for?”
“It’s not short for anything. It’s my name.”
“Are all your family dead?”
Tag hesitated. “I don’t know, but they’re dead to me.”
“What made you look behind the log pile?”
Tag gave a short laugh. “Checking for snakes?”
“Or?”
“Because this house isn’t your home.”
Delaney handed him the beer. Tag wrapped his hand around the bottle, but Delaney didn’t let go.
“How did you figure that out?”
“You don’t have one of those drawers in the kitchen with all sorts of crap in it. You know, stuff
like takeaway menus, elastic bands, shoelaces, a torch, keys that don’t open anything, needle and
thread. There are no photos, nothing personal, nothing that says you, apart from the gear in your
bedroom. Did you buy your books in bulk or have you read them all?”
Delaney let him take the beer. Tag chugged half of it then rested the cold bottle against his
forehead. Drops of condensation trickled down his face. Delaney’s eyes drifted down Tag’s hairless
chest, over those tight dark nipples and onto the line of hair below his navel that disappeared under
the waistband of his boxers. The outline of Tag’s semi-hard cock was clear under the soft grey
material and Delaney fought the urge to just have him right then.
He took a swallow of beer. He didn’t like the way he was reacting. Hated the way he wanted to
rip off his own clothes, then those boxers and fuck him. He never felt like this. Sex was on his terms,
marks he picked out in a club, hotels he paid for. Hot, fast fucks controlled by him. Tag made him feel
on the edge of control.
“You look hot,” Tag said. “You are hot.” Then he grinned. “Just in case you needed two versions
of that statement.”
Delaney couldn’t stop staring at him.
“Want to take off your shirt?” Tag asked.
The first thing he did was take the gun out the back of his trousers and set it aside.
“Er… Is that if I don’t come up to scratch?” Tag asked.
He slid open the buttons of his shirt, watching Tag watch him. Tag was palming his cock through
his boxers, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip and as Delaney began to pull the shirt from his
shoulders, Tag leapt at him, knocked him back and pinned him down with the material, though
Delaney could have got free in a moment. His breath stuttered in his lungs.
“Can I kiss you?” Tag asked.
He didn’t wait for an answer. Delaney just lay there while Tag nuzzled him like a cat, his mouth
working over his collar bone, then kissing up his neck and on to his cheek and finally, his lips. Tag
kissed like a teenager, full of energy and enthusiasm, licking Delaney’s lips, sucking on his tongue,
laughing and smiling as he did it. The taste of beer clicked buttons in Delaney’s head, reminding him
how much he’d liked kissing when he was younger. It took a long moment before he realised Tag was
lying on top of him, rocking into him, groaning into his mouth.
Then Tag lifted his head and stared into his eyes. “Three things. You can kiss me back. You’re
wearing too many clothes. And why haven’t you got free?”
He rolled off and Delaney got rid of his shirt and stripped out of his trousers and boxers at the
same time.
“Wow,” Tag said. “My very own Action Man with perfect abs, but luckily you’re anatomically
correct. Yippee. If I pull a ring on your back, do you say Enemy in sight. Mortar attack, dig in? Mine
didn’t. It was old and broken. So I used to shout it myself along with a few other phrases. Give up or
I’ll shoot you in the backside. I volunteer for this suicide mission, Sarge. I threw him out of the
upstairs window of a tower block wearing a parachute I’d made. It didn’t work. I was lucky I didn’t
kill anyone.” He sighed. “Only Action Man.”
Delaney chuckled. “Now you’re the one wearing too many clothes.”
Tag wriggled out of his boxers. “No surprise for you. You’ve already seen everything I have to
offer. God, you’re gorgeous. I could ogle you all day.” He grinned.
Delaney wasn’t one to give compliments. Nor did he expect to receive them. Tag leaned on his
side, licked his hand, then wrapped his fingers around Delaney’s cock. The breath caught in
Delaney’s throat.
“I’m glad you’re not huge,” Tag said. “There’s such a thing as being too big. You’re big, but
you’re not too big. I should shut up now, shouldn’t I? Because it sounds like I’m being insulting and
I’m not.”
Then he somehow managed to get his head resting against Delaney’s hip while he breathed on his
cock, shaky little exhalations as though his lungs weren’t operating on automatic. One lick across his
slit by Tag’s soft, warm tongue and Delaney had to press his lips together to stop a whimper escaping.
He came up on his elbow to watch and as if Tag felt Delaney’s eyes on him, he looked up at him and
smiled. Those eyes…
“Want to tell me what to do?” Tag asked.
Delaney didn’t talk when he was fucking. Unintelligible grunts were one thing, cries of ‘yeah’,
‘there’ and ‘fuck’ maybe, but actually giving instructions? But then he never went for fucks like Tag.
Little more than a kid. Looking younger than his twenty-four years. Skinny and mouthy and gorgeous
and so fucking excited, along with eager and cute. Delaney was used to fucking men his own size, his
own age.
“Do you need telling what to do?” Delaney asked.
Tag pulled at one of Delaney’s arms and thrust his head under Delaney’s hand. Delaney took the
hint and threaded his fingers in Tag’s hair, tightening his hold. Tag’s groan rattled through him like a
dose of radiation, a blast of heat that made him glad he was lying down.
“Don’t let me come too fast.” Delaney muttered the only instruction he could think of.
Tag wrapped a hand around the base of Delaney’s cock and squeezed tight, almost to the point of
pain but staying on the side of pleasure. Oh fuck. That hot little tongue licked again at the slit,
fluttering over it, and Delaney shuddered. When Tag moved his hand a little way up his length and
squeezed again, then repeated the action, Delaney’s shudders grew stronger. The little shit was
milking the precome out of him. When Tag’s fingers were close to the tip, he pressed in with his
forefinger and thumb, gathered up the bead of moisture and slurped it up.
Time after time he repeated the same action, then instead of scooping up the precome, he let it
slide down the head of Delaney’s cock until it caught on the ridge and Delaney thought he was going
to cry out with frustration until Tag’s tongue caught the slide and the moisture was gone.
Delaney was torn between wanting to come and wanting this to go on and on. No one had ever
done this to him before. Edged—yes, but not like this. Breathing was a challenge. He’d let go of Tag’s
hair at some point, worried he was pulling too hard. He had no idea how long Tag had been doing
this, teasing him to the point of desperation, then dragging him back from the brink. It felt like forever
and yet it wasn’t long enough. Then Tag took his hand off the base and sucked harder and more
rhythmically at the head. Delaney’s balls grabbed the chance. His hips jerked, and he cried out as he
pumped jet after jet into Tag’s mouth.
“Fu…ck,” he gasped.
He fell back onto the blanket, still coming, still shuddering, his breathing ragged.
Then as control returned and his body became his again, Delaney became aware that Tag was
licking him clean, holding his softening cock delicately in the fingers of one hand, while his other was
clenched around his own cock.
Delaney wanted to say something but his brain was still floundering. Tag moved up to lie beside
him, then unclenched his fist and licked his palm, and Delaney realised the kid had come into his
hand. Watching him lick up his own release made something curl up tight inside Delaney’s chest.
“Did I let you come too fast?” Tag asked. “I got carried away. Next time I’ll make you wait for a
minute.”
Delaney gave a quiet chuckle. “Next time you’ll probably kill me. That was…different.”
Tag’s face fell.
Delaney put his hand on Tag’s cheek and stroked it with his thumb. “Don’t frown. Good different.
More than good. It was brilliant.”
And the light came back to Tag’s face.
All Delaney could think about doing was fucking him, getting inside him, driving into him but he
was also aware that maybe for the first time in his life, it might not be enough.
Danger signals bombarded his head. No one could be allowed to get close to him. Ever. But he
cupped the back of Tag’s neck and pulled him in, pressing their lips together. Tag’s arms wrapped
around him, then his legs, so he was clinging on like a koala and as irritated as Delaney would
usually feel, he let him do it without protest or pulling away.
“You don’t cuddle, do you?” Tag asked.
It was like a shock to the system, a snap return to reality and Delaney moved Tag aside and
pushed to his feet. He gathered up his clothes and his gun and strode across the lawn. Tag reached his
side with his clothes, the blanket and the two empty bottles before Delaney got to the door.
“I’ll teach you how to cuddle.” Tag smiled at him. “It’s easy.”
Delaney rolled his eyes, but inside his chest something had sparked to life.
 7
By the time Tag reappeared downstairs after his shower, Delaney was in the kitchen. Tag felt
nervous and tucked his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the worktop. Two steaks were lying
on a chopping board.
“Do you like meat?” Delaney asked.
Tag almost sniggered. “Meat? Yeah, it’s okay. I’ve never eaten steak. Well, not proper steak. Is
that what that is? It looks like proper steak.”
“Is there such a thing as not proper steak?”
“Well yeah, that’s the sort that you get told is steak and it takes you so long to cut it and even
longer to chew it that you don’t think it can be. The sort of meat where you have to pretend to cough
so you can spit it into your hand and if you had a dog, you’d give it the dog, but if you don’t, you have
to put the chewed-up mess into your pocket. Then get rid of it later.”
“I didn’t think you spat stuff out.”
Tag did snigger then.
Delaney rolled his eyes. “I need your phone.”
Tag pulled it from his pocket.
“You smash it or I will,” Delaney said.
Tag gulped. “But I only just bought it.”
“I’ll buy you another.”
“Okay, but do you want the phone number of the guy who came looking for me first?”
Delaney frowned. “You didn’t tell me you had that.”
Tag shrugged. “I asked my mate to send it to me.”
“Call it,” Delaney said. “Hide your number. Put it on speaker.”
The phone rang three times, then a man said, “Hello?”
Tag shivered. It was the Master. “It’s Tag. You wanted to speak to me?”
“Where did you go?”
He looked up at Delaney who nodded.
“I ran and I kept running. I thought someone would find me but no one did.” Tag made himself
laugh. “It gave me a chance to think. I didn’t like what I was thinking about.”
“You were naked.”
“I stole some shorts and a T-shirt from a washing line in the village and persuaded a guy to give
me a lift to London. I said I was playing a game like that show on the TV. Hunted.”
The Master chuckled, though there was no humour in it. “But you weren’t. You were playing our
game but you left before it had finished.”
“Yeah, well like I said, I wasn’t keen on the way things were going.”
“Why did you quit the house where you were living?”
“I got sacked for trying to keep the twenty quid you gave me. I didn’t have money for the rent. I
didn’t get paid for the…pony show.”
“Then you should have come back for your money. Or waited for someone to bring it.”
“You scared me. I like my balls just where they are. I’d rather keep them than wait for a thousand
pounds that might not come.”
“It was all acting. I wouldn’t have castrated you.”
Tag put a tremor in his voice. “How was I supposed to know that? You’re bloody scary.”
Delaney made a wind-up the call motion with his finger.
“Come and play again and we’ll give you an extra two thousand,” the Master said.
 “I’ll think about it and maybe I’ll be in touch.”
The Master laughed and cut him off.
“Did I mess up?” Tag asked.
“No. Hand over the SIM card and destroy the phone.”
Tag went outside, picked up a rock from the side of the garden and smashed it down on the phone.
When it was in pieces, he took it back in to show Delaney. I’ve been good, look! I do as I’m told,
sometimes.
“Go to the bottom of the garden and chuck the bits into a hedge.”
“Okay.”
Tag went through the French doors, jumped off the deck and headed down the lawn. Had he just
been stupid? Should he have told Delaney to fuck off, then fucked off himself? No one knew where he
was. Even if the Master was able to locate him via the phone, it wasn’t to an actual house or anything
was it? Just to the nearest mast. But Tag felt better now the phone didn’t work.
If he told the police any of this, he wouldn’t be believed. It sounded as if he’d made it all up. No
one cared about him and the police definitely wouldn’t. Tag felt as if something was twisting his
heart. A bit of messing around, no matter how good it was, did not make a relationship, especially
with a bloke like Delaney. Tag had told him he could look after himself, but the truth was, under these
circumstances, he couldn’t. This was way out of his comfort zone.
He threw some bits of the phone into a bed of nettles on the left of the garden, the rest into the
bottom of the hedge on the right. Then he stood with his hands in his pockets and looked out over the
wire fence into the field. He thought it was wheat, though Tag was a city boy. He gave a shaky
exhalation. He was quick thinking, brighter than most people thought, but he had to just go with the
flow for the time being.
Back at the house, Delaney had put the steaks in a heavy-looking pan and they were spitting and
sizzling.
“How do you want yours?” he asked.
“Cooked.”
Delaney sighed.
“No blood, okay?” Tag said. “Want me to lay the table?”
“Go ahead. You’ve found out where everything is.”
“Were you watching me the whole time?”
“Not the whole time.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“I don’t trust anyone.”
“Fair enough.” Neither did he. Tag laid the table.
“You could have helped yourself to that money and run.”
“I wouldn’t have got far, would I? I’d have opened the door and there you’d have stood,
glowering.”
“But you didn’t know that. You took neither money nor phone.”
“I didn’t want to get shot.”
Delaney chuckled. “Or castrated.”
Tag winced. “Don’t even say that word. Did I handle him okay?”
“Yes. At least we know now who was looking for you.”
“I should have asked him to transfer the money to my bank account. Do you think he would have?”
“No. I didn’t want you on the phone any longer. Want another beer or a glass of wine?”
 “Whatever you’re having.”
“Open that bottle of red then.” He nodded to a bottle by the sink.
A few moments later, Tag knew he’d messed up. Half of the cork was still in the bottle.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ve never opened a bottle of wine before.”
“And you won’t be opening one again.” But Delaney’s lips curved up.
Delaney sorted it out, managed to remove the rest of the cork without it breaking up and poured
them both a glass. Tag put them on the table. Delaney brought over the plates, which also held salad
and jacket potatoes.
“There’s mustard and butter in the fridge,” Delaney said.
Tag leapt to his feet to get them.
When he sat down, he swallowed hard. “Is this a condemned man’s last meal?”
“It will be if you spit it out.”
Tag gave a quiet smile and started to eat. It was all really good. The wine was fruity and smooth,
not bitter tasting like the odd glass he’d been given in the house. The steak was tender, the potato
fluffy. He’d taken more butter than he should have because he rarely had butter, then added salt and
forked it into his mouth.
“You like a bit of potato with your salt and butter?” Delaney asked.
“Takes away the taste of the potato.”
Delaney laughed. Maybe that was the key. Make him laugh, keep him laughing, keep him wanting
more, be someone he didn’t want to get rid of. Tag was half-entranced, half-scared shitless of him.
“Thank you for the meal,” Tag said. “It’s delicious.”
Now shut up!
“Do you fancy me a bit?” Tag blurted.
Delaney paused with a forkful of steak halfway to his mouth. “Fancy? How old are you?
Thirteen?”
Tag felt something inside him shrivel. There was his answer. He was convenient. That was all.
Sort of the story of his life. Partly why he’d chosen the name Tag, because he’d always tagged along,
was never invited, never really wanted. The other half of the reason was that a TAG Heuer was an
expensive watch and one day, he’d told himself he’d buy one.
“Will you lend me some money?” he asked. “I’d pay you back eventually. I’ve got less than twenty
quid in my wallet and I can’t use my debit card, can I? If you don’t want to lend me any money, then
I’ll go anyway. It’s the summer. I’ll make my way to Euston, get my bag, help myself to someone’s
wallet and catch a train to Brighton. Find a job in a pub. Disappear. Not say a word. Ever. I
promise.” He hoped that sounded convincing.
“For the time being, we’ll stick together.”
Said in the tone of don’t think I’m letting you out of my sight.
“Do you think we’re safe here?” Tag asked.
He wasn’t sure he liked the way Delaney thought about that, that he didn’t just snap out the word
‘yes’ and look at him as if he was an idiot for asking.
“For the time being.”
Tag assumed this was like a safe house. A place where Delaney kept his getaway stash, which
meant there was probably more than that box but maybe clothes and a sleeping bag too and a tent and
non-perishable food and…another gun, maybe. Could be there were other houses.
“What’s going on in your head?”
“How long have you been doing this?” Tag asked.
 Delaney pushed to his feet and carried the dishes to the sink. “Doing what?”
“Stuff that looks dicey, illegal, but maybe righting wrongs. Are you Superman or Lex Luthor?”
“The less you know the better.”
“None of my teachers ever said that.” Tag took the empty glasses over to where Delaney was
washing up.
“Want another glass of wine?” Delaney asked.
“Okay.” Tag poured them.
“We’ll sit outside in a minute. It’s cooler.”
Tag nodded and picked up one of the plates to dry.
“How did you get on at school?”
Tag could have lied but what was the point. “I went into a Young Offender Institution when I was
fourteen. Before that, I… can’t much remember what a normal school was like.” He could. Not good
for him.
Delaney had stopped washing up and was looking at him. “You got an education in there though?”
“Everyone had a learning plan.” He huffed. “They made us draw them up ourselves. But…stuff
happened. I didn’t take any exams.”
“What sort of stuff?”
Tag shrugged. “I ended up in hospital for a while. Anyway, when I was eighteen, I got put in an
adult prison for two years. After I was released, I got a place in a hostel and a job in a warehouse.
First thing I did when my probation ended was change my name to Tag Blake. But you know that,
right?”
Tag put the plates back in the cupboard.
“No, I didn’t know that.”
Tag frowned. “Well, the guys that came to my room to persuade me to go to the party knew. One
used my other name. He threatened me.”
Now Delaney was the one who was frowning. “What did you do to get locked up at fourteen?”
“I don’t want to tell you that part.” Tag could feel Delaney staring at him but Tag kept his gaze
fixed on the floor. Let him find out for himself.
“Okay.”
Tag exhaled and picked up the cutlery to dry. “Sorry if I messed everything up today. I don’t want
to leave. I want to stay with you. Can I? I won’t be any bother, I promise.” He put the cutlery in the
drawer.
Delaney sighed. “I doubt that very much.”
Tag told himself not to say anything else. Maybe do something instead. And when everything had
been put away, and the kitchen looked pristine again, he was about to reach for Delaney’s zip when
the wine was pushed into his hand. Tag followed him outside and when Delaney sat down, Tag took
the glass from him, set it on the table with his, then dropped onto his lap, straddling him halfway up
his thighs.
“It’s too hot,” Delaney said, but didn’t push him off.
“You need less clothes then.” Tag unbuttoned Delaney’s shirt from the top, then landed a kiss right
underneath his Adam’s apple and carried on kissing him as he worked on the other buttons. His heart
was battering his ribs. Would Delaney stop him? When he tugged Delaney’s shirt off without any
protest and dropped it on another chair, Tag smiled. “Cooler now?”
“What do you think?”
Tag slid his hand down to Delaney’s trousers, pressed open the fastening and pulled down the zip.
“You must be cooler now.”
At least that won him a laugh.
“Will you fuck me?” Tag asked, and hoped. But Delaney was hard. He was into this.
“I assume you found what we need when you were going through my house.”
Tag climbed off his lap and ran back inside, shedding his clothes as he went. He had the quickest
shower ever, little more than standing under lukewarm water long enough to feel he was clean, long
enough to prep a little. He only dried his feet, then ran back down the stairs with lube, a condom and
a handful of tissues.
Delaney was naked and the wine glasses were no longer on the table. Tag handed him the lube and
the condom, stuffed the tissues down the side of the seat, then stood between Delaney’s legs, dripping
water over him. They were both hard.
“Suck me,” Tag whispered.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
Tag tsked. But a moment later, Delaney had him sitting on the table, and had pushed Tag back to
lean on his elbows. When he took Tag’s cock in his mouth, Tag’s eyes fluttered closed. “Oh…oh…
oooh.” One hard suck, one gentle lick and Tag almost came. “Fu…ck,” he stuttered.
Then Delaney’s hot mouth was gone and Tag opened his eyes to see him sitting back on the chair,
rolling on the condom.
“That table’s not going to take our weight,” Delaney said.
Tag moved to stand between his legs, chewing at his lip. Delaney flicked open the cap on the lube,
slicked up his cock and hand, and all the while he stared into Tag’s face. When Delaney’s fingers slid
between his legs, Tag gulped, then moaned as Delaney pushed a finger inside him. Tag leaned forward
to kiss him and when Delaney kissed him back, Tag’s heart leapt. He felt Delaney’s fingers wrap
around him, moving on his cock in the same rhythm as he was pushing his finger inside him and his
tongue into Tag’s mouth.
Tag’s eyes closed again, melting into the sensation of having Delaney’s hands playing with him.
His knees shook as the need to come began to tighten his insides like a coiling snake. Not this fast!
No, no. But Delaney’s finger caressed that place inside him that took control from Tag’s head and in
an instant, he arched back and came undone, orgasm washing over him, drowning him for a long
breathless moment, his come spurting over Delaney’s fist as Tag cried out into the dusky night.
He returned to life to find himself the subject of Delaney’s intense gaze as he licked his hand. Tag
honestly thought it was enough to make him come again. Almost.
“Will your neighbours think that noise was a randy fox?” Tag asked. “Oh, you don’t have
neighbours, do you?”
“They’d have heard that in the village.”
Tag rested his fingers on Delaney’s chest and settled his knees on the chair. Once he had
Delaney’s cock in the right position, he started to inch himself down. Big and hard and… It wasn’t as
easy as Tag had thought it would be. “How much more of you is there?”
Delaney leaned forward for his mouth, put his hands on Tag’s hips and pulled him down. Tag’s
noisy exhalations were swallowed in the kiss. He’d thought Delaney would just fuck him, but he
didn’t. He kissed him and kept kissing him and it was glorious.
Except Tag had to move. Every cell in his body was yelling encouragement. He rocked his hips
gently as he shifted up and down and Delaney pressed his forehead to Tag’s shoulder, his fingers
tightening on his hips.
“Yeah,” Delaney whispered. “Like that.”
 Tag rocked again and his cock somehow managed to revive itself as he moved on Delaney’s dick,
little slides up and down, squeezing his muscles so that Delaney shuddered against him. And all the
time Tag curled his fingers into that short silky hair and called out Delaney’s name over and over.
Then Tag changed gear, moving faster and harder until he could feel Delaney climbing in the way he
gripped him, in his ragged breathing, in the noises he was making and the different feel of his cock.
“Keep doing that,” Delaney gasped. “Don’t stop.”
Delaney thrust up into him, holding his waist now, his movements growing faster and choppier
and Tag no longer had control. Had he ever? He needed to come again. He could feel that urgency
galloping through his body, racing towards those few receptors that would tip him over the edge. His
mouth met Delaney’s, and he tasted salt from his upper lip. Somehow that acted as a trigger and as
Tag arched into him, muttering Delaney’s name over and over into his mouth, one perfect rub of his
cock against Delaney’s hard abs was all he needed to make him fly. He felt Delaney come at almost
the same time, holding Tag even tighter as he emptied himself into his body.
As they floated down from the high, Tag slumped against him. He wanted a kiss and didn’t get
one. Delaney lifted him off and dealt with the condom.
“Go to bed,” Delaney told him. “Not my bed.”
And Tag’s heart splintered. He picked up his clothes on the way back upstairs and had another
shower. A longer one this time and made no sound when he cried, the word convenient echoing in his
head.

Delaney let out a shaky breath. How the fuck had Tag come again so fast? He almost laughed at
the thought. The kid was a lot younger than him. But even so… He wiped himself down with the
tissues Tag had brought and wrapped up the condom. Delaney didn’t even want to move. He sprawled
in satiated pleasure half-wishing that he’d not sent Tag away. He swallowed hard when he
remembered how Tag had repeatedly whispered his name, the way his fingers had trembled as he’d
twisted them in Delaney’s hair, how tight his arse was, how hard he’d come…
It was just sex. That was all. Good sex.
Delaney gathered everything together, including the two glasses of wine. He tipped them down the
sink and washed up. It was habit to make everything look as if no one was there, as if no one had even
recently been there. He closed the windows and doors, locked up, then took his laptop from its hiding
place and went upstairs.
The shower in the main bathroom was still going. He pushed open the door just a little way and
saw the shape of Tag behind the steamed-up glass. His fucking cock twitched and it made him want to
hit something. Hit Tag for throwing him out of sync. Hit himself for being a dick. Delaney backed
away and went into his own room. He sat on the bed, staring at nothing, waiting for the noise of the
shower to stop.
Eventually it did. He heard the squeak of the shower door, then the sound of Tag towelling himself
dry, followed by him brushing his teeth. He wondered if Tag would come to his room, despite what
he’d told him, but he didn’t. The guest room door closed and Delaney exhaled.
It was for the best. Delaney would end up killing him, either accidentally or on purpose.
He took a shower himself, then dropped onto his bed still wet and turned on his laptop. There was
no automatic connection to the house’s wi-fi. He’d use his adapter to go online, but first he wanted to
read the contents of that USB. Except, there was an email from Henry waiting with information about
Tag, the details of which made Delaney feel a mixture of angry and sad. But feelings had no place in
this game. Time was of the essence.
 There was a mixture of zip files, folders, separate docs and spreadsheets. The titles were in some
sort of shorthand. He clicked on a folder labelled MMWE. One doc in there was about murder-
mystery weekends at Harborne House. Another zip file had photos. But of nothing alarming. There
were too many files for him to check. But he kept looking. What he was interested in was what was of
value to Henry.
The names of people meant nothing to Delaney until he saw one that did, and he was shocked.
Flynn Carlton was not just a member of Parliament; he was a minister in the current cabinet. And as it
turned out, someone whose sexual predilections were not mainstream. It made pony play look tame.
Delaney swallowed in discomfort. Shit. There were photographs that did alarm. Pictures of men
doing all sorts of things or having things done to them, Flynn Carlton fisting someone, and there was
no way of knowing if the guy being fisted was happy or not.
Delaney eventually found a file with his name and photos, all of which had been carefully planted
online. Vadim Morozov. It looked as if his legend had been accepted. There was a photo and details
on Hassan Fayad too. Oil business. Who in Saudi wasn’t in the oil business?
Eventually, Delaney shut his laptop down and put it and his phones on charge. He was too tired to
keep reading.

When Delaney came awake, it was still dark. He lay still and listened, though his hand had slid to
the gun under the pillow next to him. What had awakened him? Tag going to the bathroom? He caught
the sound of a faint crunch, someone stepping on gravel, and instantly he was wide awake. Fuck! He
slid into his trousers and shoes and moved out of the room with his gun.
He registered Tag’s door was open. Maybe it had been Tag outside, but then he heard a noise
downstairs in the kitchen. The ice maker. Followed by the sound of breaking glass coming from a
different direction. Shit.

Tag was desperate for something cold to drink. Even sleeping naked with no sheet, he was too
hot. He’d put on last night’s T-shirt and boxers and sneaked downstairs. He took a glass from the
cupboard, put it into the opening on the fridge and pressed it against the back panel. What a luxury!
Blades churned, then ice clattered down. Damn that’s noisy! But too late now if it had woken
Delaney. Tag half-filled the glass with ice, then pressed the button for water. He’d taken one gulp
when he heard someone in the lounge. So it had woken Delaney. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to face
him. He was still feeling hurt. Fine to be fucked but not wanted in his bed. He turned his back on him
and took another swallow of water.
The blow caught him just as he turned, a strike that sent Tag reeling to the floor, the glass
shattering. When he looked up, there was a gun pointed at him.
“What—” He managed no more than that before the gunman grabbed the neck of his T-shirt and
tightened the material like a garotte. Tag couldn’t breathe and struggled to get free, fighting to get the
man’s hand off his throat.
“Shut the fuck up,” his attacker ordered.
Tag stopped trying to pull the man’s hand away from his neck and instead brought his foot up hard
between his legs. It was enough to make him let go, but not enough to disable him. Now the guy was
hitting and thumping him, but Tag kept fighting until the gun was jammed into his ear. He cried out in
pain and stopped moving.
“Keep still and keep your fucking mouth shut,” the man hissed.
He pulled Tag across the kitchen floor by his hair and although Tag had been trying not to make a
noise, now he couldn’t help himself. But Delaney’s voice drowned out his yelp.
“Let him go.”
The gun was pushed back into Tag’s ear and Tag cried out in pain.
“Drop it or he’s dead,” the man said.
Tag gasped as a gun went off. For a moment, he thought he’d been hit, that this was the single
fraction of a second he’d get before he died. But his attacker dropped to the floor next to him. There
was another phut sound and Tag looked desperately for Delaney. He was still on his feet, his gun
pointing in a different direction. When Tag looked across, he saw another man lying on the floor.
What the hell?
“I need to see if there’s just the two of them,” Delaney whispered.
Tag crawled away from the guy lying next to him who was obviously dead. Oh God. Tag was
shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. He wrapped his arms around himself and touched something
on his back that made him flinch. He realised a sliver of glass was embedded in his skin.
Delaney came back into the room. “All clear. Are you okay?”
“My back.”
“Your ear’s bleeding.”
Tag touched it and winced. Delaney grabbed kitchen roll, came up behind him and pulled the glass
out of his back. Tag pressed his lips together to stop himself yelping. Delaney held the paper towel on
his skin and put his chin on Tag’s head.
“You’ll be fine. I need to check their car in case there’s a driver. See if you can do anything about
the blood.”
Then he was gone.
Tag pushed to his feet. He was spattered in blood that wasn’t his own, but he guessed Delaney
was more concerned with what was pooling on the floor. Tag grabbed a tea towel and dropped it onto
the mess without looking at the body. He remembered seeing duct tape in the utility room and went to
get it.
As he ripped off a strip with his teeth and reached under the guy’s dark T-shirt to press it against
the hole in his chest, he wondered what the fuck he was doing. Wasn’t Delaney going to call the
police? The tape didn’t stick. Tag wiped the wound with the tea towel and tried again. This time it
did and the trickle of blood stopped. He put another piece across the first before he went over to the
other man.
He’d been shot in the head. Oh God. There were bits of…Tag gagged and looked away. I have to
do this. He took another tea towel from a drawer, cleaned away the blood and stuck duct tape on his
forehead.
Why was he doing what Delaney told him to do? Why wasn’t he running? Delaney had just killed
two guys.
But he didn’t kill me.
 8
Delaney was as sure as he could be that he’d neutralised the situation. Only two men had been
sent and they were both dead. It was unfortunate, because he’d wanted to know who’d sent them, but
if he hadn’t done what he’d done, he and Tag could have been killed. He was pretty sure he’d found
their car parked a little way down the road. A dark Honda.
He ran back to the house. Tag was on his hands and knees cleaning blood off the tiles and putting
sodden sheets of kitchen roll into a bin liner. At least he wasn’t curled up in a corner wailing
hysterically.
“Okay?” Delaney asked.
“He got a hard on,” Tag blurted. “I freaked out.”
Delaney started to laugh, then caught the look on Tag’s face. “It sometimes happens. It’s called
angel lust.”
“Fuck. I don’t think he’s going to end up in heaven. He’ll probably be waiting for me in hell.”
“Why would you be going to hell?”
Tag shrugged.
“Do you believe in heaven and hell?”
“No.”
Delaney frowned. “Let me look at your back and your ear again.”
Tag stood up.
“Your ear’s grazed inside. Your back’s stopped bleeding. It’s not deep. Go up and change your T-
shirt. Put on some trousers and shoes.”
“Is that all I get?” Tag whispered. “I’ve just seen you shoot two guys, one of whom stuck his gun
in my ear, and I thought I was going to die and you’re…all business?” He gulped.
“Yes.”
Tag sagged and headed upstairs. Delaney took pictures of both bodies, then followed Tag.
Delaney came out of his room pulling on a T-shirt of his own, just as Tag emerged onto the
landing, his face blank.
“I need you to do what I tell you,” Delaney said. “Okay?”
Tag nodded.
Back downstairs, Delaney took latex gloves from a box under the sink and gave Tag a pair. “Wear
them all the time. Keep working on the blood.”
He checked the pockets of the man who’d held the gun on Tag and found a set of car keys.
“We have to make it look as though they were never here.” Delaney checked the pockets of the
other guy. They held nothing. So in that, they were professionals.
“How do I clean the grout?” Tag asked quietly.
“There’s a grout cleaner under the sink.” Delaney caught hold of his arm. “This is going to be
okay. But we have act quickly to get rid of the bodies and I need your help. I’m going to bring their
car up to the house, put them in the boot, drive away and I want you to follow in my car.”
“I can’t.”
Christ! “You have to.”
“No, I mean I can’t drive.”
Delaney groaned. “Then you’ll learn. It’s not difficult.” Thank God it’s an automatic. He’d
wanted a manual transmission, but liked the BMW M4 enough to buy it anyway.
He ran down the road and the Honda’s lights flashed as the vehicle unlocked. He sat in the
driver’s seat. The interior was clean but smelled vaguely of cigarettes. There were no phones in the
glove box as he’d hoped, just rental docs. There was nothing in the car that gave away who’d sent the
men or who they were. He turned on the ignition and checked the sat nav. He was disappointed but not
surprised to find the log was empty. Whoever had been sent to kill him had been cautious enough not
to use it. The rental company would have wiped the details after its previous use.
Back at the house, he reversed up to his car and opened the boot of the Honda. It was two in the
morning and it was cutting it fine to get this done in time. He went in to get the picnic blanket and used
it to line the boot. Then tossed in the disguise he’d used at Chason’s. That could be disposed of as
well.
Tag had done a good job with the floor and put the guns in a plastic bag. Delaney pocketed the
keys to his convertible.
“Grab his feet.” Delaney took hold of the man’s shoulders.
Tag sucked in a breath but did as Delaney had told him. Once both men and the guns were in the
boot of their own car and the lid was down, Delaney gave Tag the keys to the convertible.
“Get comfortable. Move the seat so you can reach the pedals.”
Delaney went back into the house to return his backpack into the compartment behind the fridge,
then locked up and let himself take a breath before he returned to crouch at Tag’s side.
“It’s an automatic. Easy to drive. Two pedals. Only use your right foot. Pedal nearest me is the
brake. The other makes the car move. The lights will come on automatically when you turn on the
engine. This lever works the indicator. Push up to turn left, down for right. This is the gear stick. It’s
in P for park. The car won’t move until you put it into D for drive. You need your foot on the brake to
do that. You need to reverse to get off the drive. R for reverse. You probably won’t need to do that
again. Remember, foot on the brake to move the stick to the right position. You have to try and keep up
with me once you get the hang of it. This needs to be done while it’s still dark.”
Tag nodded and Delaney kissed him. He felt Tag gasp into his mouth and he clutched at Delaney.
“I know you’re shocked and scared,” Delaney said. “But you can do this. Those men would have
killed us.” Actually, what they’d probably have done was tortured them until they got what they
wanted, then killed them. Interesting thought as to whether Delaney could have let them torture Tag
without telling them what they wanted to know. Hopefully before then, he’d have reversed the
situation. “I’ll pull up a little way down the road and then come back and sit next to you while you
reverse off the drive. I want you to do it in case you have to reverse again.”
He fucking hoped Tag could do this or he’d have to go on his own, but that left him without a way
of getting back, and this house was no longer safe. But when he returned to Tag, the engine was on and
Tag had the seat belt on too.
“Well done. Now put it into R for reverse.”
Tag was slow but he managed to get onto the road without hitting anything, then put the car into
drive and moved forward.
“Stop before you hit the Honda.”
The car came to a gentle halt.
“A natural.” Delaney encouraged. “It’s important to remember that if you’re in Neutral, if you
don’t have your foot on the brake, the car will keep moving. If you need to stop, move your indicators
up and down and I’ll see. And try not to strangle the wheel.”
“Okay.”
“Gentle movements with it. You don’t need to wrench at it to change direction.”
Tag nodded.
 He was so slow at first that Delaney worried this wasn’t going to work, but after a couple of
miles, Tag drew closer to him and Delaney increased his speed. At least at this time in the morning,
there was virtually no traffic and they reached Broughton Crematorium with no incidents.
Delaney had an arrangement with a man who worked there and this was the second time he’d had
to make use of the place, which was conveniently old with no CCTV. This relied on the codes not
changing, though he was supposed to be notified if they did.
Tag followed him off the main road, through gates that opened once Delaney tapped in the
numbers, and closed behind them as they went down the drive to the building in the distance. He
pulled up by the rear door and switched the engine off as Tag came to a jerky halt behind him.
They carried both bodies into the cremation chamber and put them on the floor. Delaney sent Tag
back to the Honda to close the boot and get everything else that had been in there. The room had no
windows so there was no issue putting on the light. He set the controls on the panel of one of the
furnaces that took the heaviest corpses.
“You know how to do this?” Tag whispered at his back.
“Yep.”
Delaney went to get one of the thin sheets of wood from the storage area at the end of the room
and put it on the roller conveyor. Before they lifted the first guy on, Delaney grabbed a machine from
where it hung on the wall, switched it on and waved it over the man’s body, over his chest in
particular.
“You think he’s not dead?” Tag gasped.
“He’s definitely dead but if he has a pacemaker, it will explode and wreck the equipment. I’d
have to cut it out.”
The machine didn’t react at all.
He and Tag laid one guy over the other, the head of one to the toes of the other, Delaney added the
fake beard, hair, hat and coat, and the picnic blanket, then pressed the button to roll everything into the
oven.
“Oh fuck,” Tag muttered. “I am so freaked out I can’t even make a joke about them 69ing.”
“We need to get rid of the car. Come on.”
Delaney felt better the further they both drove from the crematorium. He didn’t want to get
stopped in the Honda, especially not with two guns in the boot, but the hardest part was done. Not that
they’d finished at the crematorium, but if they didn’t go back, it wouldn’t be a disaster. The house
needed to be thoroughly cleaned too.
He drove for thirty minutes until he found a car park for a woodland walk and headed for the far
end. Tag pulled up behind him. Delaney took the bag with the guns and walked back to him. He
dropped the bag in the passenger footwell, opened the boot, took out a container of petrol, then came
back to Tag who’d opened the window.
“Drive back to the entrance and switch to the passenger seat.”
When Tag had driven off, Delaney emptied the container of petrol all over the inside of the Honda
including inside the boot, then tossed the container in there too. He lit a match, threw it inside and
once the first flames whooshed, he ran. The car was ablaze by the time he reached Tag but hadn’t
exploded. He drove out of the car park and headed back to the crematorium.
“Do you have a thing about fire?” Tag asked.
“It’s useful.”
“Where are we going?”
“Back to get the ashes.”
 “Oh God, why?”
“So that when the staff arrive, they’ll only notice the furnace is hotter than they’d have expected it
to be.”
“Do you know who those guys were?”
“No.”
“Any ideas?”
“A few.”
“Do you think they were after you or me or both of us?”
“Probably both of us.” Though Delaney wasn’t sure if they’d known Tag would be there or even
how they’d found the house.
“They wanted to kill us?”
“Eventually.”
“Oh fuck. What did they want? How did they know where we were?”
Delaney glanced at him. “They’re the important questions.”
“I don’t know what you got up to before you met me but assuming this relates to post-meeting me,
it either has to be the people you work for or those who arranged the play date at Harborne House. I
can’t see why the people you work for would come with guns but how would those at Harborne
House know where you lived? I assume you gave them some other address.”
“Yes. An address in London. No one should know about this house, not even those I do work for.”
“But someone does.”
And Delaney was having trouble working out how.
“It might be that diamond dealer or someone who wants those gems and knows it was you who
nicked them. The driver or the other guy. Fuck, I bet there’s a long list of people you’ve pissed off.
You can add me to it.”
Delaney frowned. “Right.”
“I was traumatised. Now I’m slightly less traumatised, I’m going to talk too much. I can’t help it.
I’m just warning you. I thought I was going to die. When I heard the gun go off, I thought he’d shot me
in the head. My whole life didn’t flash in front of my eyes, thank fuck for that. But thank you for saving
me. Again. On the plus side, I can drive a car. What the hell? I’ve amazed myself.”
Delaney hid his smile. “You did well. With everything.”
“We’re definitely partners now. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The Kray brothers. Bonnie
and Clyde. I’m—”
“Bonnie. Clearly.”
Tag huffed. “What are you going to do with the guns?”
“Find a body of water to throw them in.”
“Do you have one in mind?”
“Yes. It’s about three miles away. Slight detour.”
“Are we still going to go and get my bag?”
“Possibly. Is there anything in it you can’t do without?”
“The rest of my clothes. But I’ll keep getting charged if I don’t collect it.”
Delaney didn’t care about Tag’s bag but he couldn’t see that going to get it would cause any
issues. Maybe he should just drop Tag at the storage place and drive off. Or maybe he should wait to
dump him until he’d found out what this was about.

The guns were thrown as far into the lake as he could manage. His own ought to have gone with
them, but he could retrieve the bullets from the remains of the men and dispose of them. They’d
probably be unidentifiable anyway.
He was relieved to find no cars at the crematorium. They had maybe an hour before it was full
daylight. This time he parked in the actual car park and they walked to the building.
“If we’re stopped, we’re en route to the airport and wanted to visit the place where our mother
had her ashes scattered,” Delaney said.
“What’s her name?”
“Sandra.”
“How did she die?”
Delaney sighed. “You can pretend to be dumb.”
Tag tsked.
Delaney let them into the room with the furnaces and closed the door.
“Will they be…done?” Tag asked.
“Yes.”
Tag stood by the door while Delaney collected the remains in a hopper and tipped them into a
cremulator. Three noisy minutes later, he had the two misshapen bullets in his pocket and had tipped
the ashes and other bits that hadn’t been reduced to crumbs into two boxes.
“Is that all there is left?” Tag asked.
“Yes.”
Delaney took a quick glance around, then pulled the door closed as they left.
“What are you going to do with what’s in the boxes?” Tag asked.
Delaney walked past the car over to an area of thick shrubbery. He upended both boxes in the
middle, then returned to the car.
“Fertiliser,” Tag muttered as Delaney dropped in beside him.
“It was us or them. Give me your gloves now.”
Tag peeled them off. Delaney put them in one of the empty boxes with his. On the way back,
they’d be dropped into a rubbish bin.
“I feel as if I’ve stepped into the middle of someone making a film,” Tag said. “It’s as though none
of it is real, but I can feel the bruises around my throat where that guy tried to choke me, the ache in
my ear from his gun, the place on my back where the glass stuck in me, and I can still see two dead
bodies lying on the floor with bullet holes. What I don’t feel is…bad about any of it. That’s what I
can’t get my head around. I should feel bad and I don’t. Except, we’re not going to get caught, are we?
Because I really don’t want to go back to prison.”
“They’ve gone, their car has gone. When they don’t get in contact with whoever sent them, it will
be assumed they’re dead, or possibly, depending on what they were sent to get, that they’ve run, but
no one’s going to find anything other than a burned-out car that might not even be linked back to them
if they used false names.”
“What would you have done if you hadn’t been able to use the crematorium?”
“Buried them. It would have been a lot more work and riskier.”
“Did you ever think about calling the police? Tell them two guys had tried to kill us?”
“No. It would have made a bad situation a whole lot worse.”
“What do we need to do when we get back?”
“Make sure there’s no trace of what happened, then leave taking all the rubbish with us. I need to
change cars.”
“And houses.”
 “Yes.”
“I’m an inconvenience, aren’t I?”
Delaney didn’t answer.
“Well, I know I am. A liability and an inconvenience. I’m sorry. I know I talk too much and—”
Delaney reached out and put his hand over Tag’s mouth. It wasn’t to shut Tag up. Well, it was, but
not for the reason Tag would think.
“I need to take a leak,” Delaney said.
He pulled off the road into a layby, switched off the engine and signalled Tag to get out of the car.
As they walked away from the vehicle towards a waste bin with the boxes, Delaney said, “I might
have fucked up.”
“Did you pee in your pants?”
“Do I even need to say I didn’t? There might be a tracker in the car, possibly a microphone.”
Tag sucked in a breath. “Then someone’s going to have heard me muttering ‘shit, fuck and bugger’
all the way to the crematorium. Along with ‘I can’t do this. I really can’t do this’, then ‘wow, look at
me. I’m doing it’. I don’t think I mentioned the size of your cock this time. Sorry.”
Despite everything, that made Delaney chuckle. “The tracker is much more likely than the
microphone.”
“But the car was in a locked garage.”
“That nobody should have known about. Even so…”
He stuffed the gloves in the bin, then the ripped-up boxes, and headed back to the car. “I’ll check
the car when we get back to the house. Careful what you say.”
Tag nodded.
Delaney had barely pulled back onto the road before Tag opened his mouth.
“Have I told you that you have a big cock?”
Delaney snorted.
“I wasn’t sure if you knew.” Tag grinned at him. “Or maybe you’re one of those guys who takes a
peep when you’re using a urinal.”
“I try not to.”
“Well, you do have a big cock.”
Delaney mouthed ‘what are you doing?’
“Did you know cocks can shrink by a couple of centimetres if you don’t get hard regularly?”
Why was he not surprised that Tag was ignoring him? Though he did find himself asking, “What
does regularly mean?”
“An average bloke gets between eleven and twenty erections a day, and not necessarily because
they’re horny. Can be due to stress or anxiety or anger. I mean, isn’t that crazy? Why would you get
hard when you’re scared shitless or furious? You’d think it would have the opposite effect.”
“Where are you getting your facts?”
“While I was… The Internet. One thing I did find out that I thought was just sort of lovely was that
doctors can grow skin grafts for burn victims from baby foreskins. 23,000 square metres from just one
foreskin. I’m sort of sad I wasn’t circumcised when I was a baby but maybe they didn’t have the
technology to make the grafts then. I wonder if they tell burn victims where their skin grafts come
from? Or when they use them for eyelid replacements?”
Delaney shook his head. “Probably not.”
Tag’s trivia continued until Delaney pulled up next to the house and switched off the engine. He
opened the back door for Tag to go inside.
 “So anxiety really does make you talk too much,” Delaney said.
Tag widened his eyes in mock surprise. “How did you guess? Oh no, I told you, didn’t I.”
“I’m going to check out the car. You shower. Put your dirty clothes in the washer. Don’t turn it on
because I’ll add mine in a few minutes. Pack your stuff up ready to leave.”
Delaney couldn’t find a tracker or a microphone, but he wasn’t reassured. He doubted the
presence of a microphone but the tracker could be in a hard-to-get-to place. He didn’t have time to
take the car apart and he couldn’t risk using it. The dead guys might have relayed the details back to
whoever sent them before they’d broken in.
Normally, trackers were something put on quickly and placed in a spot that was relatively easy to
access, but his M4 had been in that garage in Margate for five months. Untouched, he’d thought but…
If he’d had detection equipment, he could make certain the car was clean but he’d had to leave the
gadget he’d used at Harborne House in the Mercedes.
There was one other place that he wanted to check, but it could wait until he’d showered. He
stripped, put his clothes in the machine with Tag’s and set it to the fastest wash, then he cleaned the
kitchen floor again before he went upstairs. No matter how many times it was washed, the blood
would show up under forensic investigation, but hopefully, there was no reason for it to be checked.
The house would be going on the market anyway. He took his gun with him when he went upstairs.
Until this was sorted, one way or another, he wanted it handy.

Once he was dressed, Delaney picked up the bag he’d been using for the last five days, emptied it
out on the bed and found the tracker stuck under the plastic base board. Shit! He slipped it into his
pocket and went downstairs with his laptop.
Tag was eating toast. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.”
“By the way, I’ve put some cardboard over that broken window and cleaned up the glass. Is that
okay? You need to call someone to fix it.”
“Uh huh.” Delaney took the perishable food out of the fridge and put it in a bin bag near the door.
When he levered the fridge out of position, Tag huffed. “I knew there had to be a hiding place other
than behind the logs.”
Delaney pulled out his backpack and put it on the table. Tag washed the plate and knife. Delaney
heard the washing machine bleep and transferred the contents to the drier.
“The floor looks okay.” Tag leaned against the utility room door. “Can’t tell anything happened.
At least they had the decency to wear gloves.”
“There’s no way to get rid of every trace. Chemicals will show up blood we can’t see. Their
DNA will be here too.”
“But no one to tie it to.”
“No.” Delaney put his hand in his pocket, took out the tracker and showed it to him.
“What’s that?” Tag asked. “Metal spider?” He put his finger on it.
“It’s a tracking device. It was in the bag I took to Harborne House.”
Tag yanked back his hand. “Oh shit. Though not with us when we went to the crematorium. That’s
good, right?”
“Yes.”
“So how long has it been there?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you’ve been thinking this through.”
 “It could have been put there in my London flat, though knowing my security system, I think that’s
unlikely. I took the bag from there to Harborne House. It was left in the room they allocated me.
Plenty of opportunity for a tracker to have been planted then.”
“I didn’t do it,” Tag blurted.
“I know.” This was all too elaborate to be a con. The thing that staggered him was that he trusted
Tag. Probably more than he should, because it went against everything he’d been taught or learned.
Delaney didn’t trust. The thought of it made him feel angry and a little scared, and yet…
“Someone I gave a lift to, the reason I had to keep you in the trunk, put his bag on the back seat
with mine. At one point in the journey, he needed his inhaler from his bag and when he reached over,
he had the chance to plant that.”
“I heard you mumble something about golf clubs.”
“That was to stop him finding you.”
“But if he’d put his bag in the boot, he could still have gone through the same excuse over the
inhaler. It was just riskier to lean over and do it while you were watching. It was the Middle-Eastern
guy, right?”
“Yes. I can’t rule him out, though I don’t think it’s him. After I’d dropped you off, I stayed in a
hotel in Greenwich. The driver for the Kirby Street job picked me up from there. He had the chance to
plant it when the other man and I went into the diamond dealers. Since then, it’s been with me.”
“Are you going to destroy it?”
“I’d prefer to transfer it to someone else.”
“You’re not going to burn the house down?”
“Not now you’ve taken the trouble to repair my window.”
Tag chuckled. “So what now?”
“Clothes out of the drier. Whether they’re dry or not, we need to leave.”
Dry enough. Delaney packed his into the backpack and put his gun in there too. This house was
compromised. So was the car. Damn, and he liked the M4 too. Maybe he ought to leave the tracker.
Let them think he was still here. In an ideal world, he’d have watched to see who else was going to
come for him, but not while Tag was with him.
He ran upstairs with the tracker, stuck it back in the place where he’d found it and put his bag in
the closet. Let them think he was still here. He grabbed his phones and laptop and did a final check of
the room. The sooner the two of them were on a train the better.
They set off for the village with Delaney checking the train times as they walked. They’d just
missed the fast train, the next to London was in thirty minutes. Not a fast train but it couldn’t be
helped. Delaney had his backpack on his shoulder and a bag of rubbish in his hand. Tag carried the
perishable food. Both needed to be dumped. He didn’t want his dustbin searched and all the blood-
soaked paper discovered. I should get rid of Tag too. But he didn’t want to. Delaney left a message
with the maintenance service that took care of his lawn and asked them to find someone to fix the
broken window.
Tag dumped the bag of rubbish outside the village shop. Delaney put his in a different bin. He
paid in cash at the machine on the platform for two singles and they sat waiting for the train. No
cameras at this station, but there would be in London and in the stations before the city. Whether
anyone would be looking for them, depended on who was looking.
“Have you thought any more about who’s behind this?” Tag whispered. “Is it a really long list of
people who don’t like you?”
Delaney sighed.
 “What’s your actual job title?” Tag asked. “Though if it’s one of those—if I tell you I’ll have to
kill you—then don’t tell me.”
When Delaney didn’t say anything, Tag whimpered.
“Don’t you think two brains are better than one?” Tag asked. “Even my little one?”
“I can’t think that any of those involved with what went on at Harborne House are directly behind
this,” Delaney said. “They might have discovered that I went into their system and downloaded stuff
they’d prefer wasn’t downloaded, but why put a tracker in my bag before I’d even done that?”
“Unless they did it to everyone. Knowledge is power, right?”
“Yes, but in this case no. It would be a huge risk. A breach of privacy that would destroy what
they’re doing and they had our addresses. Well, the one I wanted them to have.”
“What are they doing apart from arranging kinky parties for rich people?”
“Better that you don’t know.”
Tag bit his lip. “So it could be the guy you did the diamond job with that’s behind it.”
“Why?”
“Maybe he wasn’t who you thought he was. Maybe he’s like you? Another James Bond. Not being
who you thought he was would also apply to the driver of your getaway car. Everyone has a price.”
That would also apply to someone in the organisation he worked for. Barker made no secret of
disliking Delaney. They’d clashed a few times and Barker had never come out on top. But to want to
kill him? Jeopardise his position? It didn’t make sense. And just because Delaney didn’t want it to be
Henry, didn’t mean it wasn’t.
The train pulled in. There was hardly anyone on it. They put their bags on the seats facing them
and Delaney had Tag sit next to the window. He kissed his damaged ear and Tag turned to him in
surprise. Delaney stroked it with his finger. “I wish I could have killed him slowly,” he whispered.
Tag smiled his sunshine smile and Delaney felt better.
 9
Tag thought he was doing a pretty good job of holding himself together. But really, he was the
most freaked out he’d ever been in his entire life and that included several occasions when he’d found
himself paralysed in shock, literally unable to move, hardly able to breathe. Even thinking about those
times was sometimes enough to make him hyperventilate.
Delaney—no way was Tag ever going to work out his actual name—and really, he shouldn’t even
want to—had killed two guys right in front of him. And one of them had a gun at my head. What if
getting shot had made the guy pull the trigger? Some sort of reflex? Tag shuddered. I could have died.
Not only that, master assassin Delaney had a tried-and-tested, highly efficient system in place to get
rid of bodies. And I helped him.
I fucking helped him! Tag could almost see prison beckoning.
What is he? He’d thought MI5 but would an MI5 agent be stealing diamonds? Maybe an offshoot
of MI5. Or maybe nothing legal at all.
Tag closed his eyes and pressed his head against the train window. If he was caught by the police,
he’d go back to prison for a long time. Didn’t matter that someone had been about to shoot him, and
that Delaney had saved his life. All that had been undone by what happened afterwards. And if the
police didn’t get him, and whoever had sent those killers did, Tag was pretty sure he could predict the
outcome. Being with Delaney might save him, or it might get him killed. But then that might happen
anyway.
Served Tag right for wishing his life was more exciting. It was like one of those trick wishes
where you don’t get what you expect. Yes, you can have the car and the house and the money, but
you die next week.
Not being in control of his destiny filled him with anxiety. No job, nowhere to live and on the run.
If he’d been certain that leaving Delaney would keep him safe, would he have bailed? He gave a
shaky sigh. It wasn’t a question he could ask himself, because he couldn’t be certain.
And the weirdest thing of all was that Tag still liked him. He saved me. I’m nothing but a bother
to him and he saved me. He kissed me.
Delaney took his hand and squeezed his fingers. Tag thought he’d let go, but he didn’t. Maybe
because Tag was clinging too hard.
Could I get off the train before we reach London?
And do what? Withdraw all his money from the bank and move as far away from that town as he
could possibly get, as fast as he possibly could? But his name could give him away. He should have
gone for John Smith. When he tried to find work, his National Insurance number could give him away.
If he tried to claim benefits, that could give him away. So could his face. All those things were
solvable, sort of—if he had money. But someone wanted him dead. Even if he didn’t know anything,
his association with Delaney was fatal and there was no reversing that.
“It’s going to be okay,” Delaney whispered in his damaged ear, then kissed it. “Don’t cry.”
Tag gasped. Was he crying? He dragged his free hand over his wet cheeks and turned to face
Delaney.
“I told you before, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Delaney said.
Even though Tag understood that wasn’t a promise he could keep, it was still good to hear it. Tag
leaned in to kiss him, they crashed noses and both ended up quietly chuckling against the other’s
mouth.
“I’m scared,” Tag said. “I’m scared I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut if someone starts
asking me questions and they’ll find out about Harborne House and the diamond place and those two
guys and what we did and—”
Delaney kissed him again, silencing Tag’s frantic flood of words, and Tag melted against him. The
kiss wasn’t awkward this time, but the way they were pressed together was. Tag didn’t care. He
needed to be close to Delaney, because right or wrong, when he wasn’t with him, he felt adrift. It was
crazy, he knew it was, but he couldn’t help it.
And when Delaney’s fingers crept down to the front of his jeans and held him there, Tag knew
Delaney would feel him going hard. Tag whimpered into Delaney’s exhalation.
“Tickets, please.”
The sound of the conductor’s voice further back on the train broke them apart.
Delaney looked as dazed as Tag felt. There was no one sitting anywhere near them, but Tag came
back to reality with a bump. Delaney handed the tickets over and when they’d been checked, gave one
to Tag and put the other back in his wallet.
“What’s the plan?” Tag whispered.
“While you go and get your bag from the storage locker, I’m going to go and see my boss. Then
we’ll meet up and leave London.”
“How many houses do you have?”
“Enough, hopefully.”
“Are any of them a home?”
“Depends on how you define a home.”
Tag gave him a sad smile. “A place where you feel safe when you close the door, and someone’s
there who’s happy to see you, a place where you can be yourself. Somewhere with clean walls, a
clean floor, a small garden. Along with a swimming pool, helicopter landing pad…”
Delaney laughed. “Where did you live before you were sent away?”
“The north.”
“Where was your YOI?”
“Mersham Wood.”
“What was it like?”
Tag huffed. What did he think it was like? “I had my own room with a sink, toilet and shower. A
better room than most of the ones I’ve stayed in since. But I could walk out of those whenever I liked.
We spent a lot of time locked up. More than we should have. People came and inspected, and they
criticised the way we were treated. Stuff changed for a while, then it slid back.”
“Did you make friends there?”
“Friends? Well, that’s like trying to define home. No. I didn’t have friends. I didn’t trust anyone.”
“Who came to see you?”
“No one apart from my supervisor. I never even used the phone. I still had the four quid credit I
was given when I left. First time ever, they said.”
Tag gave a quiet chuckle at the fist that squeezed his heart. He was almost surprised it could still
beat after all he’d endured. No visits, no letters, nothing. Not that he’d wanted them, but… He felt his
breathing quicken and he reined himself back. “I was good. I stayed out of trouble. Mostly.” And
when something bad had happened, it was trouble finding him and not the other way round. “Where
were you brought up?”
“All over the place.”
“What does that mean?”
“What I said.”
 Tag glared. “You want me to answer your questions, but you won’t answer mine?”
“You didn’t have to tell me anything.”
Tag glared harder. “Fuck you.”
Delaney sighed. “My father worked for the Foreign Office. He got posted to different countries
and I either went to International Schools in cities where my father worked, or a boarding school in
Sussex.”
“What countries?”
“Russia, Israel, Pakistan.”
“Wow. I don’t even have a passport. And you’ve got—”
Delaney put his hand over his mouth.
Tag nodded. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“I’d tell you to think before you opened your mouth, but I’m not sure you can.”
And even though that was true, and Tag had admitted it, he was still hurt.
“I do like your mouth,” Delaney whispered. “And not just your mouth.”
Tag forgave him.
“When we get off the train, we’re not going to be able to avoid every camera. If you go looking
for them and turn away when you spot one, it’s a giveaway. Best thing to do is to keep your head
down. I don’t think anyone will be looking for you, but better to play safe.”
“But they might be looking for you?”
Delaney shrugged.
“Is it because you’re hotter than me?”
“Definitely.”
Tag grinned. “Where are we going to meet up?” Then his smile slipped. Are you even going to
meet me?
Delaney took a phone from his backpack, and handed it to him. “Just my number in this. So we
know communication is secure.”
“Unless someone has a gun to my head.”
“That’s true. If you’re under duress and asked to phone me, call me Del and I’ll know you’re in
trouble.”
“And not come to rescue me?”
“I’ll come but I’ll know what I’m heading into.”
“And what are you going to call me if you’re in trouble?” Tag asked.
“Baby?”
That made Tag laugh. “Do I have to call you Del? Can I call you Daddy?”
“No.”
“Donkey Kong?”
“Del will be sufficiently irritating.”
“What else irritates you?”
Delaney sighed. “You’re expecting me to supply you with ammunition?”
Tag put a hurt look on his face. “Maybe I just want to know what not to do, how to make you smile
and not frown. It’s like frown is your default setting.”
“You’ve made me smile more than I have in a long while.”
And didn’t that warm Tag’s heart.
Delaney looked around, then slid a wad of cash into Tag’s backpack.
“Why do I need that?” Tag asked. “Are you dumping me? It’s novel, I’ll give you that.”
 “You never know what’s going to happen. At least with some cash you have choices. A chance.”
Tag nodded. “Thank you.”
“Talk some more about you,” Delaney said. “What do you like to do?”
Tag hesitated. Whenever he’d told people he liked working with clay, most of them had asked to
see something he’d made, then laughed when all he had to show them was a couple of bowls.
“I like making things with clay,” he said quietly.
“How did you get into that?”
“Mersham Wood. It was one of the art activities. Before I was sent there, I was a hundred-mile-
an-hour kid, rushing everywhere, never still. I had a…bicycle. I went everywhere on it. Then I
suddenly found myself locked in a room, trapped in a building. No one was allowed to walk fast let
alone run, you couldn’t even go outside when you felt like it. Clay calmed me. The moment I coiled
my first pot, I felt I’d finally found my thing.”
He glanced at Delaney to check he wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t.
“I had to do a lot of pleading to be allowed air drying clay in my room. I don’t know what they
thought I was going to do with it. Make a key? The stuff broke when you looked at it funny. But they
did let me have it eventually. I had to earn the money to buy it. Everyone else was buying food and
sweets and phone time, and all I wanted was clay. Couldn’t have the tools though. Potential weapons.
I had to make my own as best I could and they kept getting taken away, but I coped.”
“What sort of things did you make?”
Delaney was twisting Tag’s hair in his fingers. Tag wasn’t sure he was aware he was doing it, but
he really hoped he didn’t stop because it felt so good.
“I made animals when I was in there. I still do. When I can rent time in a studio, I book a session
on the wheel. I like throwing bowls and mugs and stuff.”
“I didn’t see anything like that in your room.”
“I did slam the door in your face, so you couldn’t have seen much. There were a couple of bowls,
but I mostly never fired what I made. I’d have had to pay for colours and glazes, and space in a kiln,
and what was I supposed to do with endless bowls and mugs and vases?”
“Sell them?”
Tag laughed. “Who to? There’s thousands of potters making better stuff than me.”
“How often do you do it?”
“Whenever I can. Making models I can do in my room, but practising on a wheel is harder to fit in
and costs money. But I’m not going to give up. One day I’ll make something brilliant. Well, I’ll think
it’s brilliant even if no one else does.”
“What do you like doing best?”
“Probably making animals with air drying clay.”
“But you’ve not kept any?”
“No. I keep reusing the clay while I can.”
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t keep what you made.”
Tag closed his eyes for a moment. “I did once. I had a shelf full of little horses and dogs and cats
and elephants, and…they got broken. I thought my heart was going to break too and when you’re
locked up, that’s a dangerous thing. You can’t show anything has hurt you or it just happens again and
again.”
“Someone broke all your models?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
 “Because they wanted me to keep drugs in them and I wouldn’t. I came back to my room and
found the mess. All I could do was clean it up. They thought I’d say yes next time they asked, but I
didn’t. That was when I ended up in the hospital.”
“But once you were released, you could make things and keep them then.”
Tag shrugged. “I could have but I can get everything I own into two bags. I did put the model I’m
working on in the bag I packed, but I can’t cart fragile stuff around with me.”
“It’s a shame.”
“Yeah, well… I get more of a thrill watching something emerge from a lump of grey clay than I do
from staring at the finished piece. I’ve learned a lot from working with it.”
“Such as?” Delaney was still playing with Tag’s hair and Tag was going to keep talking while he
was doing that. It was so calming.
“I learnt to be patient. You can’t hurry clay. You have to wait for it to be ready for the next step.
Same as when you put pieces in the kiln. Before I’d even handled clay, I’d already learnt that life
doesn’t always work out the way you’d like it to and that’s definitely true with clay. It cracks,
sometimes falls to pieces or handles fall off, and no matter how well you measured, you find lids
don’t fit or bowls turn out different sizes, or colours don’t work. You just have to learn from your
mistakes and start again. Sometimes it’s not even a mistake, it’s just bad luck. If that’s not the biggest
lesson in life, I don’t know what is. If things go wrong, you pick yourself up and try again.”
Delaney was staring at him now and Tag swallowed hard.
“What did you do to get sent to a YOI?”
“What’s your real name? Bernard? Gilbert? Is that your real voice?”
Delaney’s fingers dropped from Tag’s hair. Tag turned to the window.
Countryside changed to suburbs, shades of grey began to dominate the swathes of variegated
green, and more people boarded the train, though not enough to require them to move their backpacks.
“Use cash for everything,” Delaney said. “Wait for me to call. It could be a long wait. Try to stay
somewhere public. Maybe Regent’s Park.”
“Okay. Try not to get killed. It’ll really piss me off.”
Delaney chuckled. “The moment we step onto the platform, we’re not together.”
Tag nodded.
“And keep your face turned away from the cameras.”
When they pulled into London Bridge station, Delaney got off before him and strode away. No
kiss. Tag wondered if that was it.

***
Delaney looked back when he got to the end of the platform. Almost as if Tag sensed he was
looking, he met Delaney’s gaze, gave a small smile and looked away. Will I ever see him again? For
Tag’s sake, he hoped he didn’t. Delaney wished Tag would run with the money, but suspected he
wouldn’t.
Once he was out of the station and away from the noise and bustle, he walked down towards the
river and called Henry.
“Delaney. About time.”
“Good morning to you too.”
“How is everything?”
“Is this line secure?”
Henry gave a quiet chuckle. “Strange thing to ask.”
 “Are you alone in your office?”
“Yes.”
“Do me a favour and go to the cafeteria. Don’t sit with anyone. I’ll call you back. Don’t tell
anyone I’ve called.”
Delaney ended the call before Henry started to protest. He found a place to stand where he wasn’t
under the eye of a camera or near the ears of those passing. He really wanted to trust Henry. But he
knew it was possible that Henry was at that moment telling someone—probably Barker—that he’d
phoned and was phoning back.
He waited a few more minutes, then called Henry again.
“Hello,” Henry said.
“Are you sitting comfortably?”
“Do I need to be?”
“I have the diamonds, the mask and the USB.”
“Then bring them in.”
“I think someone is pretty keen on ensuring that doesn’t happen.”
“Ah. You have something to report?”
“Two armed men broke into my house early this morning.” It seemed a lot longer ago than that.
“I take it that they’ve moved on?”
“Correct.”
“Did you take pictures?”
“Yes.”
“Send them.”
“I’d prefer to show you while I’m looking at your face.”
Henry gave a quiet chuckle. “I’m famous for my poker face.”
Delaney frowned. That was true.
“Why the hell would I send anyone to kill you?”
“At a guess because whatever is on that USB is so sensitive that no one can be allowed to know
the contents. Or someone wants to get their hands on several million pounds worth of diamonds.
Possibly both.”
“Have you looked at the information?”
“What do you think?”
“Ah.”
“Not all of it. There’s a lot.”
“I didn’t send anyone to kill you. I don’t even know where you live. I assume you have several
places you call home.”
“There was a tracker in my bag. I inadvertently led someone straight to me.”
“And you’re unsure where you might have picked it up?”
“Four possibilities. Either before I went to Harborne House, while I was there, on the way back
from there or when I was doing the Chason job. It was a make of tracker that I’ve been supplied with
before.”
“That we use the same type means nothing.”
“Or something.”
“Who exactly had access to your bag?”
“I would know if anyone had got into my London flat, so I’ve more or less ruled that out. But the
bag was left in my room at Harborne House. Any of Norbury’s staff could have had access. I gave one
of the guests a ride back to London. A Saudi. Hassan Fayad. He reached over to get an inhaler from
his bag at one point in the journey, and could have put the tracker in place then. From that point, the
bag was always with me until I put it in the driver’s car on Monday morning. He was alone with it
when I went to do the job.”
“What sort of feel did you get for this Hassan Fayad?”
Because Henry preferred it to be Fayad rather than one of his contractors?
“A couple of things struck me. He never bid highly on anyone though he tried to make a deal with
me afterwards. He suggested an arrangement that would need to be run past Norbury and said he
would, but that could have been a distraction. Fayad was anxious to leave with me when he could
have stayed at Harborne House and had the evening he’d paid for. There were plenty of willing
ponies.”
“And his reason for leaving with you?”
“His driver wasn’t coming until morning—he’d said he’d given him the evening off, but what rich
guy’s driver wouldn’t come to get his boss on request? Fayad was concerned about the disappearance
of Tag bringing trouble. Yet he’d surely guess that Norbury wouldn’t let that happen.”
“Could he have known what you were up to?”
Delaney sighed. “Anything is possible. He could have been up to something himself.” Delaney
was increasingly thinking that was the case. Fayad had given up the search for Tag fairly quickly.
Maybe he’d not even searched but done the same as Delaney.
Henry cleared his throat. “Assuming he was there for personal reasons, a Saudi really wouldn’t
want anyone knowing what he’d been up to. For a gay Saudi, the potential for blackmail is huge. I
could see that as a reason to want the information you gathered, maybe to threaten to expose others if
he was exposed, but that’s based on the assumption he knew what you were up to.”
“If he knew I’d got that USB, why didn’t he try to take it?”
“Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he lifted information too.”
“If he did and he wasn’t careful, they might have seen him. Leaving with me implies we were
accomplices.”
“What’s your gut telling you?”
“That he was up to something but I don’t think he put the tracker there. It’s more likely to be the
driver. Barker assigned him.”
Henry made a sound of exasperation. “What is it with you and Barker?”
“We don’t seem to be able to play nicely with each other.”
“You think I hadn’t noticed? But a dislike strong enough for him to want you dead?”
“I’d hope not. Disgraced would be more to his taste. That brings me back to it being one of
Norbury’s staff. I took all the necessary precautions, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t spotted. Though
that still doesn’t explain how the tracker went on before I’d even accessed their files. It implies they
knew who I was.”
“Worrying.”
“I’m going to send you the two pictures.” Delaney typed in Henry’s private email address, sent the
images of the dead men and waited. If Henry already knew what had happened, there was nothing to
be lost. If he didn’t, then maybe Delaney would get some help.
“I don’t recognise them. I’m relieved I don’t.”
So was Delaney if Henry was telling the truth.
“They knew what they were doing. No ID with them, or phones. They wore gloves. Carried Smith
and Wesson 38s with silencers.”
 “Their car?”
“A rental. Avis. There won’t be much left.”
“I’ll do some checking,” Henry said. “Are you going to bring everything into the office?”
“Not when there’s a risk I might not make it inside. When whoever sent those men to my house is
unable to contact them, he’s going to assume I killed them. I have a target on my back. I don’t know if
that will change once I’ve handed everything over.”
“Are you on your own?”
“Yes.” But Delaney knew what Henry was asking.
“Tag’s disappeared.”
“Good for him.”
“Do you want to meet somewhere?”
“I’ll think about it and let you know. Any news on Chason?”
“He and his son have gone to ground. They’ve not left the country as far as we know. There’s no
chatter about anything having happened. The dealership is open as usual.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I think the diamonds might be behind this. Seventeen million pounds is a strong motive. I’ll have
a look at the driver and the other guy. Let me know where you want to meet.”
“I will.” Delaney ended the call.
Delaney went back up onto London Bridge, crossed the river and made his way to the Tube at
Monument. He doubted he was being followed but he behaved as if he was and used counter-
surveillance techniques: changing lines, doubling back, getting on and off the Tube. He returned to the
surface at St Paul’s and walked to Postman’s Park. By the time he was sitting on a bench with a
coffee, mirrored sunglasses on so he could scan his surroundings unobserved, he was sure he wasn’t
under surveillance. As sure as he could be. He took nothing for granted.
Time to check in on Tag.
“Hi.” Tag answered on the first ring.
Delaney was ridiculously relieved to hear his voice. “Report?”
Tag chuckled. “I should have had you call me Baby if you were okay. I’m fine. I have my other
bag and I did a bit of wandering around on the streets before I headed for Regent’s Park. I’m currently
sitting drinking a coffee and feeding a duck.”
“Good. Just keep your eyes open for anyone you see more than once. Bye.”
“Hey, wait. Try to say something nice before you go.”
“I can’t wait to get your lips around my cock.” Delaney ended the call as Tag audibly gulped.
He found himself smiling. Then his other phone vibrated. The Master. Grant Feely.
“Privet.” Delaney said.
“Vadim. It’s the Master. I hope I haven’t caught you at an inconvenient time.”
“Drinking bad English coffee.”
Feely chuckled.
“Have you found that bastard boy?”
“Not yet. But we’re close.”
“Pizdets!” Russian for a fucked-up situation. “I only discover after I get back that he take six
hundred pound from my wallet. I’d like to kill little shit. Fuck him again, then kill him.” He chuckled.
“We could arrange that.”
“Yes?” He swallowed. “Have you found him?”
“Not yet.”
 Delaney made a dismissive sound. “What to arrange? No boy, no fun.”
“We will find him. Do you want to…make him disappear?”
Delaney shivered as if a cloud had gone over the sun. “You serious?”
“Are you?”
Delaney waited a beat before he answered. “Just me make him disappear?”
“If you like, but that will cost you more.”
“What are choices?” Delaney swallowed hard. He didn’t need to fake his anxiety.
“You can fuck him, then deal with him in any way you want. We’ll fly you up to the Scottish
Highlands. Take care of everything. Dispose of everything. Two million pounds. Or he can be hunted
by a group. You’d have rifles. He’d get a head start, just to make it interesting. And a tracker to make
the result inevitable. One million pounds. Or we can do an urban hunt with pistols. But that’s risky.
Three million. We need more people involved in a city making sure those who need to stay safe, stay
safe.”
Fucking hell! “That discount price?”
Feely laughed. “I did say that, didn’t I? Ten percent reduction, okay?”
“You do this before?”
“The first two options—yes. Not the last, yet. That one needs to be practised first and I’d advise
against it.”
“When can this happen?”
“As soon as we find him.”
“And I can still fuck him for one million?”
Feely chuckled. “Why not? You just need to leave him able to run.”
“Other hunters what skill level? Need top competition to make this fun. I can use my own rifle?”
Which I’d like to use on you!
“Absolutely. We’d fly all of you up there.”
Damn! Feely hadn’t given anything away about the others and Delaney couldn’t push it or he’d
arouse suspicion. “Okay, I’m in.”
“We’ll be in touch.”
The call ended. Shit. Delaney hadn’t seen any details of death hunts when he’d glanced through
the material he’d downloaded. He wanted to get Tag and leave London, but first he needed to offload
what he had. No way could he tackle this organisation on his own. He ran through the options. All of
them were risky. And the risk wasn’t only to him but to whoever he gave the items to. Go to Concorde
House in disguise and just hand everything over? If he arranged to meet Henry, Henry might be
followed. Or Henry might not come alone.
Would Feely have made that call if he didn’t still trust him as Vadim? Delaney thought not but
couldn’t be sure. While Tag was still with him, any offer from Feely telling him he had Tag, would be
a trap.
He needed transport. And his hair turning back to white.
His other phone rang as he was heading out of the park. Unknown number.
A brief “Yeh?” not English, not Russian, not anything that could identify him. Hopefully.
“Del Boy,” Barker drawled.
“Try again.” Delaney cut him off.
What the fuck did he want? And why the unknown number?
A moment later, the phone rang again.
“Why the fuck haven’t you come in?” Barker asked.
 “Busy.”
“Well, get yourself sorted and come in with what you should have brought in before now.”
“Why don’t I take the diamonds back myself? Save you a trip.”
“Don’t you fucking dare. Saad is ours. There’s leverage to be had from this.”
You idiot, but thank you for that name. “You’re on my list of things to do, after cleaning the
toilet.”
“Put us at the top, you wanker!”
Delaney laughed and ended the call. He went back to a seat in the park and began to google. Saad
and diamonds brought nothing of relevance. Delaney added Hassan Fayad, then Prince Ahsan bin
Nagi. A few minutes later, he’d found a link.
Delaney made a call. “Hassan! It Vadim.”
“Vadim! How are you?”
“I’m good. You still in London?”
“Yes, I’m going up to Scotland soon. Did you change your mind about joining me?”
While he and Fayad had been in the car together, Delaney had gone out of his way to be friendly,
though he’d been surprised to be asked to Scotland.
“Too many commitments here, sadly. I want to ask favour. Can I see you? Meet for coffee?”
There was a slight pause before Fayad answered. “Come to my house. Five Belmont Square,
Bloomsbury.”
“Thirty minute?”
“See you soon.”
Delaney hadn’t thought he’d get invited to the guy’s house. No time to change his hair but it didn’t
really matter if the guy was who Delaney thought he was.
 10
Hassan Fayad opened the door of his house and did a double take.
“Time to get rid of white,” Delaney said. “You like?”
Hassan chuckled. He looked pleased to see him, though Delaney had never been able to trust any
smile. Not until the one that he was beginning to like more and more.
“Come in.” He shook Delaney’s hand. “You must call me Hassan now. We’re old friends.” He
laughed.
As Delaney stepped inside, he had his hand on the gun in his pocket, hoping he wasn’t going to
need to use it.
Hassan led Delaney through to a large open area at the rear of the house where a modern kitchen
blended into a dining area, then living space. A span of bifold doors led to a decked area the width of
the house with seating, table and chairs, which then backed onto the garden of another house. No easy
exit that way.
“You live here on own?” Delaney asked.
He didn’t miss the flicker of concern that crossed Hassan’s face.
“Yes, on my own. Coffee, tea?”
“Black coffee, please. Can I use bathroom?”
“Through there and second door on the left.” Hassan pointed.
“Thank you.”
Delaney put his backpack down, surreptitiously tucking one strap underneath it before he left the
room, then slid back to watch what Hassan did. He made the coffee and went nowhere near Delaney’s
backpack. Delaney used the bathroom. No pictures on the wall. Nothing he hadn’t expected to see. He
returned to see the strap lying in exactly the same place. It didn’t mean Hassan hadn’t looked inside,
but…
There were two cups on the table between the couches. Hassan poured from a cafetière, which
saved Delaney from having to worry that his had been doctored.
“Come and sit down.”
Delaney sat on the couch opposite.
“What’s the favour you need?” Hassan asked.
“Something I need to tell you first. I make discovery after you leave car. Little pony had lifted
money from my wallet.”
Hassan glared. “What sort of boys were they using?”
“Ones who want money so much they take risk. I ask for refund.”
“Did they offer one?”
“Pft. No. They make other suggestion. Maybe I like to pay more for different activity with same
boy. They ask you as well?”
“No. But then I didn’t buy him at the auction. Nor did I complain. I chose to leave, so… What sort
of activity are they talking about?”
“One that not end well for him.”
Hassan’s eyes widened. “You mean…kill him?”
“Yes.”
Hassan gasped. “That’s… No, that’s going too far.”
“I agree. I have sneaky admiration for little shit. Even if I did want to kill him, and I don’t, I
would never risk it. They have not shown themselves to be secure organisation.”
 Hassan nodded.
“I wanted to warn you,” Delaney said. “Have nothing more to do with them.”
“Thank you. Not sure I needed the warning. I can’t risk being revealed as gay.”
“Then why take risk?”
“I thought the pony play would be fun. I’ve never seen anything like it before. But there were too
many people. Even with masks, maybe we could be recognised. I bid but I couldn’t afford those
prices. In the end, I did nothing but look. An expensive night for what might turn into a big headache.”
Delaney had more clues now that Hassan was not what he professed to be.
“Tell me again how you get invite to Harborne House?” Delaney wanted to see if he told the same
story.
“I was at Ascot and the Master came up to me. He said he’d seen me in a gay club in London.
Dominos. I thought he was going to blackmail me.” Hassan gave a quiet laugh. “Instead, he saw a way
to get money out of me without using blackmail. He asked me to join him in his box. We chatted and
he invited me to a party at Harborne House. Now I think maybe he’ll blackmail me for accepting the
invite. They probably took pictures.” He stared at Delaney. “Are you testing to see if I tell the same
story?”
“Yes.”
Hassan didn’t say anything for a moment. “Shall I test you too?”
“I repeat same thing I told you before.”
Maybe by now Hassan was getting a sense of something being wrong.
“You don’t sound as if you believe me,” Hassan said.
Delaney had to tread carefully. He was fairly sure he’d come to the right conclusion, but…
“So what is this favour? You want me to help you act against them? I don’t think I can do that.”
“What’s your real name?” Delaney asked in an English accent.
“My…my…” Hassan stuttered, his eyes wide.
“I know you’re not Hassan Fayad. You look very like him.”
The guy was gulping in distress. “What are you talking about?”
“Did you put a tracker on my bag?”
“A tracker? I don’t understand. Where’s your accent? Who are you?”
Delaney pulled out his gun and Hassan squirmed back as if he hoped the couch would swallow
him. Delaney was just testing the water but he was pretty sure he was on his way to the truth.
“Please,” Hassan whispered. “What do you want?”
“Your real name.”
“Rafiq Sherif.”
“Did you love him?”
All the colour drained from Rafiq’s face. “I…I need my inhaler. Please.” He pulled an inhaler
from his pocket and used it.
“Did you love him?” Delaney repeated.
“Who?”
“The prince you were paid to look after.”
Rafiq crumpled in on himself. Delaney waited until he’d pulled himself together.
“How did you know?” Rafiq whispered.
“A photo of you on Google.”
“Shit! Do it then. Kill me. I failed him. I wasn’t a member of his household when he went missing,
but I still wanted to keep him safe and I failed.”
 “I’m not here to kill you.”
Rafiq didn’t look as though he believed him, but then Delaney still had his gun out.
“What were you trying to do at Harborne House?” Delaney asked.
“I thought I might find Ahsan there. If not, then discover what had happened to him.”
“Why did you think he was there?”
Rafiq lifted his head. “Just over a month ago, Ahsan went to Ascot with his brother, Saad. He’d
told me to stay here, but I’ve never trusted Saad. So I disguised myself and followed Ahsan. I saw
him and Saad talking to Norbury and the Master. I didn’t know who they were at that time. I took
pictures and found out later. Ahsan and Saad went into one of the boxes, somewhere I couldn’t easily
access. I had no idea that I’d never see Ahsan again.” He took a deep breath. “I think his brother used
them to make Ahsan disappear.”
“What’s the official line from the family?”
“That he’s missing, along with £17 million pounds worth of diamonds they say belong to the
family, and both the Saudi authorities and the British Government are doing all they can to find him.”
Delaney fought the urge to look at his bag.
“This house is our home. It’s in my name. It’s complicated but Ahsan found a way to pay for it
without his name being implicated. He’d stopped going back to Riyadh, but we never thought they’d
snatch him here.”
“It was you who tried to fence the diamonds through Chason.”
Rafiq sagged. “You know a lot. Do you know where he is?” Rafiq was clenching his fists on his
knees.
“No.”
He slumped again.
“Did Chason pay you up front?”
“A small amount. The rest to be transferred when he’d sold them. He knew he had to keep it quiet,
split the diamonds and sell them in batches.”
“Why did you sell them?”
“Because Ahsan told me to if he ever disappeared. Sell them and run. But I wanted to use the
money to find him. That’s how I paid the entrance fee for Harborne House. Ahsan has the certification
somewhere for the diamonds. Probably in his safe deposit box to which I don’t have access. Without
the certificates, selling the diamonds is illegal, so Chason offered very little. But I think Ahsan knew
if I’d tried to sell them with the certification, I’d have been arrested. I relied on Chason’s caution
keeping him quiet.”
“Did you know he was robbed?”
Rafiq dropped his head into his hands. “Fuck.”
“Does he know your address?”
“No. I gave him the address of a hotel where I know the manager. The manager doesn’t know this
address either.”
“That doesn’t make you safe.”
Rafiq looked across at the gun. “I can see that.”
“How did you manage to get an invite to the pony party?”
“Before I went to work for Ahsan, I used to work for Hassan Fayad, sometimes as his body
double. He had…certain tastes and expected his staff to arrange things for him. He owed me a favour.
A big one. I persuaded him to find out what Norbury was up to and he got me an invite to the pony
party and let me pretend to be him.”
 “You trust him?” Delaney wouldn’t have.
“I had to. But he has to trust me too.”
Rafiq pushed to his feet and Delaney rose to his, still holding the gun on him.
“I just want to show you something in the drawer,” Rafiq said.
“Do it slowly.”
Rafiq pulled open a drawer in the unit under the TV and took out a framed photograph, turning it
to show Delaney. “This is us. It was taken last December in Miami.”
Rafiq stood with Ahsan, their arms slung over each other’s shoulder. They were on a beach,
looking happy and carefree.
“The boy you bought reminded me of Ahsan.”
“Do you think he might still be alive?” Delaney asked.
“A week ago he was. He’d somehow got access to a mobile phone. He told me he was in
Scotland and that he was a pet. That was all he managed to say.” Rafiq bit back a sob. “Only now
you’ve told me they plan to kill that boy, I wonder if they’ll kill Ahsan too.”
He began to cry. Tears were hard to fake.
“If Ahsan is dead, I don’t care about anything anymore. Are you here to kill me?”
“No, but I don’t think you’re safe.”
Rafiq dropped back on the couch, hugging the photograph.
“How did Ahsan get access to a phone? How do you know it wasn’t a trap?”
“Because he’d have told me where he was. I’d have gone to him.”
“Do you have a gun?” Delaney asked.
“No.”
“What about the place in Scotland?”
“Just a cottage that Ahsan and I use when we want a break from London. It’s a long-term rental
taken up under false details. Our absolute safe place. All my talk at Harborne House and in your car
was posturing. I just wanted information, to find out if there was a house in Scotland that Norbury
used. I found nothing. I couldn’t even get into the computer. I suspect you did.” He looked up at
Delaney. “Are you going to tell me who you are?”
“It’s safer for you if I don’t. I’ve risked enough revealing that I’m not Russian. You need to pack
and leave this house. If you’re sure Scotland is safe, go there. Don’t trust your car. Don’t trust anyone.
Use cash for tickets. Do everything with cash. Do you have a burner phone?”
Rafiq nodded.
“Give me the number and get rid of your other phone. No more contact with the Master or
Norbury.”
“What are you going to do?”
“See if I can find out what happened to Ahsan. If he is in Scotland, there’s a chance he’s where
they propose to hold the game that involves killing Tag.”
“His name’s Tag? You still mean it that you won’t hurt him? He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t
want to be there.”
“I have no intention of hurting him. By the way, I have your diamonds.”
Rafiq gasped. “What?”
“I stole them from Chason, and he said they’ll kill me. Was he talking about you?”
“I went on my own.”
“I suspect he was aware of exactly what you’d brought him. I think Ahsan’s brother wants the
diamonds and wants you silenced.”
 “Yakhsaf allah bih al’ard.”
May God swallow the earth under him. Delaney was assuming he meant Saad.
Rafiq took another phone from a drawer. “If you can find Ahsan, keep the diamonds. He’s worth
more to me than they are.”
“You know the chances aren’t high that he’s still alive.”
Rafiq nodded. “But he was. And I cling to that.”
Once phone numbers were exchanged, and Delaney also had Rafiq’s email address, he held out
his hand. Rafiq clasped his fingers.
“Leave today,” Delaney said. “Take no more than a small bag. Not the one you took to Harborne
House. Make sure you’re not followed. Now Chason no longer has the diamonds, they might come for
you. I’ll keep in touch. If you go two weeks without hearing from me, assume the worst.”

Delaney was careful when he left Rafiq’s and he saw no sign of anyone watching. But he found a
place to wait and watched the house. Fifteen minutes later, Rafiq left with a small bag and Delaney
followed. Once he was sure no one else was tracking Rafiq, he broke off surveillance. Maybe Rafiq
would be lucky.
Nor was Delaney followed when he backtracked to Henry’s house, though he still took the usual
precautions. On his way, he called in at a florist’s. Henry had no idea that Delaney knew where he
lived, and if Delaney could find that out, Saudi operatives probably knew where Ahsan had been
living with Rafiq.
A hefty bribe to the florist let Delaney travel in the delivery van with the flowers he’d bought for
Rosa, Henry’s wife. He’d slipped the USB and mask into an envelope, written Henry on the front and
tucked it inside the display. If Rosa wasn’t in, he’d have to come up with something else, but she was
there. Delaney handed over the large bouquet with a bright smile, and had the florist drop him near
Regent’s Park.
Then he called Tag.
“Hi,” Tag said.
“Hi yourself.”
“Everything done?”
“Yes, where are you?”
“Near Madame Tussaud’s.”
“Go to Hampstead Heath station. I’ll meet you there. Buy me a pasty or a sandwich and water.”
Coincidentally, Delaney wasn’t far from Tag. He hurried towards the Tube at Baker Street, hoping
he’d delayed Tag enough that he’d not yet have caught a train. Sure enough, when he went down onto
the platform, he saw Tag waiting. Delaney didn’t approach, but watched to see if anyone had Tag or
him under observation.
Not until Tag was standing outside the station did Delaney move up behind him.
“Tag! You’re it,” Delaney whispered.
Tag didn’t even jump. “I am so good at this game. All those miles without getting caught.”
Delaney chuckled. “When did you spot me?”
“Baker Street.”
“Shit! Okay, come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To get my car.”
It was in a lock-up garage four hundred metres away. Just as in Margate, there was a coded
entrance, but this time the vehicle was a ten-year-old Land Rover with fake plates.
Tag whined. “You’ve got me used to better than this.”
“Shut up and get in.”
Once the garage was locked again and they were on their way out of the suburbs, Delaney felt
better.
“By the way, I told the Master that you took six hundred pounds from my pocket.”
“Why did you do that?”
“So I had an incentive to find you and get it back but you better have lost it because otherwise
you’d have run.”
“You’re making things very complicated,” Tag whined.
“I’m making the situation realistic. Where’s the food?”
“Want me to feed you?” Tag asked.
“I think I can manage.”
Tag reached behind to get his backpack and pulled it over onto his lap. He unscrewed a bottle of
water, put it in the holder in front of Delaney, then unwrapped the pasty and held it out. Delaney drove
one-handed as he ate. Tag ate one too. The cheese and onion pasty was still warm and Delaney could
have eaten another.
He chuckled when Tag handed him one. “Reading my mind now?”
“One of my superpowers. Where are we going? Ah… Obviously, the mind-reading is an
intermittent superpower.”
“Wales.”
“Any particular reason?”
“I have a home there. It’s isolated.”
“So you can kill me and bury my body?”
“Depends on how much you annoy me.”
“Oh shit. I’m doomed. That was the last pasty.”
“Then I’ll have to eat you.”
“Is that a promise?”
Delaney laughed.

The guy might well be laughing, but Tag was worried. How long until Delaney decided he was a
pest he no longer wanted around? It wasn’t as if Tag was of any use to him.
“How did things go today?” Delaney asked.
“Exciting. I fed a duck and another duck came, then another. I walked off and they followed. I had
a line of them waddling behind me until some kid threw a slice of bread and that was it, I was
abandoned. I thought about going into the zoo but I wasn’t sure how long you’d be so I just wandered
and people-watched. No one was watching me apart from the ducks.”
“Good.”
“What about you?”
Tag listened with increasing horror as Delaney talked. He didn’t say a word until Delaney got to
the end. He still didn’t say a word, just gulped a lot.
“Have I rendered you mute?”
“They’re monsters. They make a game out of men with rifles hunting people like me? Do you think
that’s what happened to this prince?”
“Perhaps.”
 “You want to find out? I mean I think Rafiq would be better knowing one way or the other. I feel
sorry for him. For both of them.”
“People who are prepared to pay to murder for fun need to be dealt with, as do those who arrange
such things.”
Tag swallowed hard. “Do you want me to be bait?”
Delaney glanced at him.
“I can run fast.”
“You can’t outrun a bullet. Maybe they let the person being pursued have a good head start, maybe
they don’t, but one man running with a tracker has no chance against those following with rifles, even
if they’re not good shots. It’s going to be rigged so they win and the victim dies.”
“You could shoot them before they shoot me.”
“You’re not going to be bait.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m hoping I’ll get invited to shoot someone else.”
Tag sat upright. “You can’t let them shoot anyone.”
“I’ll have informed my boss before that was anywhere near happening.”
“So you could use me.”
Delaney glared. “I don’t want to.”
“Is it because you like me?” Tag smiled.
“You’re an irritating little shit. I don’t like you at all.”
“You luuurve me.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” But Delaney couldn’t help grinning.
His phone rang and he put a finger to his lips before he answered. Tag got the message.
“Hello,” Delaney said.
“I received your gift.”
“Good.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you know where I live and my wife’s favourite flower.”
“I’m careful. And thorough. You wouldn’t employ me otherwise.”
“Right.”
“I’m confident now the driver put the tracker on my bag. I’m pretty sure he knows nothing about
the other matter. He was after the diamonds. Possibly working on behalf of Ahsan’s brother, Saad.
Equally possible he’s just a greedy shit. I left the tracker on my bag in the house. Easterly Cottage,
Ashford Lane, Chalford, Kent. Might be worth keeping an eye on the place. Try not to wreck it. It’ll
be going on the market soon.”
“What about the other matter?”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. I’m at home and the line is safe.”
“Hassan Fayad is actually Rafiq Sherif. He used to work for Prince Ahsan. The two have been
living together in secret. Rafiq thinks Ahsan’s brother Saad arranged for Norbury to make Ahsan
disappear. Ahsan managed to get one message to Rafiq, that he was in Scotland and someone’s pet.
As of last week he was still alive.”
“Oh Christ.”
“Feely offered me the chance to join a hunting party in Scotland. Tag as the target. There were a
number of options, including going after him in an urban setting. He said they’d not done that before
but implied they had in the Highlands. It’s possible Prince Ahsan will be a target too or maybe he’s
being a good pet.”
“Jesus.”
“Keep this really quiet, Henry. I don’t want you to do anything apart from check that USB, and
even then, talk to me before you take any action or before you let Barker stick his foot in something
unpleasant. If you discover anything about these shooting parties, let me know. Lives are at risk.”
“Do you know where Tag is?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Think for a while.”
“We’ll maintain your cover but don’t take too long.”
Delaney ended the call.
“What helps you think?” Tag asked.
“Peace and quiet.”
“Not sex?”
Delaney sighed.

Tag fell asleep. As he stirred, he registered they were still moving.

“Are we there yet?”
“Clearly not.”
“I’m thirsty. You drank all our water. Next pub you pass, right?”
A few minutes later, Delaney pulled into the car park of The New Inn, which looked ancient.
“Are you going to leave anything precious in the car?” Tag asked. “Because it might not be here
when we come out of a place like this.”
They both took their backpacks in. The moment they walked through the door, all the locals at the
bar stopped talking, turned to look at them, then began chatting again.
“Is this place near where you live?” Tag whispered.
“No. What do you want to drink?”
“Strawberry margarita.”
Delaney glared. “I’m not going to ask for that.”
“Pina colada.” Tag was only winding him up.
“Nor that. You can have a beer.”
“A weak shandy.”
Delaney went up to the bar but no one moved to let him in.
“What a gorgeous doggie,” Tag said in a loud and very flamboyant voice. “He is so cute. Aren’t
you, sweetie pie?”
The dog was the least cute thing Tag had ever seen. It was old and fat and half of an ear was
missing. As Tag minced towards it, the dog growled. Fuck. “You don’t mean that, you big softie.”
He could feel the occupants of the bar watching him. Tag crouched down, far enough away to
throw himself sideways if the dog leapt at him, but near enough to smell the dog’s rancid breath. Ugh.
He opened his arms. “Come for a cuddle, cutie.”
Tag sort of half-hoped the dog did no such thing, but he lumbered to his feet and waddled over.
Tag carefully reached out and scratched behind its damaged ear.
“You have to be called Princess. That is your name, right? You are gorgeous.”
 “Spike,” someone said.
Tag stood up and held out his hand to the one who’d spoken. “Hi, Spike. My name’s Raphael.”
“The dog’s called Spike.” The man didn’t shake his hand.
“But it’s a girl. Oh.” Tag laughed. The dog had rolled onto his back. No balls but the other part of
him was visible. Bit too visible. Eew. He bent down and tickled the dog’s stomach avoiding its
lipstick. “Such a beautiful dog. Yes, you are. Gorgeous.”
The dog writhed in pleasure.
“Raphael. Your drink,” Delaney called.
Tag gave the dog one last pat and sashayed over to join Delaney. There was a drink on the table
with an umbrella stuck in the pineapple slice wedged on the lip. Conversation in the pub resumed as
Tag sat down.
“Is this a pina colada?” Tag whispered.
Delaney gaped at him.
“Thank you. I’ve never had one before.” Tag picked up his drink and sucked hard through the
paper straw.
“Don’t thank me. The landlord paid for your drink. He said you were the first person to ever make
a fuss of his dog.”
Tag turned to look at the bar and smiled his thanks. The landlord nodded.
“But you’re an idiot,” Delaney said quietly, wiping off the smile on Tag’s face. “They’re going to
remember us now. Well, you, anyway. No matter where we go, we stay under the radar, right?”
Tag bypassed the straw and gulped from the glass. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“You will be.”
Tag’s gaze shot up. Delaney was looking at him as if… Tag’s cock began to thicken.
Spike wandered over to the table and sat next to Tag. Tag dropped his hand down to stroke his
head.
“Drink up,” Delaney said.
Delaney had already finished his half-pint. Tag emptied his glass, ate the pineapple and stood up.
“Got to go, Spike. Sorry, gorgeous boy.” He gave him a final stroke.
As Delaney walked past the dog, Spike growled and Delaney growled back. The dog backed off
and Tag sniggered.
When they were back at the vehicle, Tag said, “Thank you for stopping. I feel much better. I
needed an energy boost. I can keep going for another fifteen minutes now.”
Delaney rolled his eyes. “We’re going to call at a supermarket and pick up a few things. About ten
miles to the supermarket and another thirty to the house.”
“Drive fast then.”
“What did I just say about staying under the radar?”

The supermarket was on the outskirts of a town. Tag followed Delaney, putting things in the
trolley only for Delaney to take them out again. Mostly.
“No squirty cream, chocolate sauce and strawberries?” Tag said with a heavy sigh. “You are no
fun.”
“I’m more fun than you can handle.”
That comment left Tag gaping. He peeled away from Delaney, went to get a shopping basket of his
own and after a quick dash around, he managed to pay using some of the cash Delaney had given him,
and was waiting as Delaney entered the self-checkout.
 “What have you got in there?” Delaney nodded at the bag Tag was holding.
“Essentials.” That Tag’s idea of essentials was no doubt very different to Delaney’s didn’t matter.
He did notice that Delaney had a box of hair dye in the basket, so he guessed his hair was going to
be changed back to white, which in turn meant Delaney would be seeing Norbury and Feely. A cold
trickle ran down his spine.
Tag had thought they’d drive on to the house when the vehicle was loaded, but Delaney headed to
a retail park adjoining the supermarket and they went to an outdoors supply shop.
“Not a word when we’re in here,” Delaney said.
For once, Tag did as he was told.
They emerged with running shoes with an aggressive tread and all-weather gear for Tag, and some
items for Delaney: compass, Kendal mint cake, which was apparently a source of quick energy,
flashlights, batteries and survival blankets with a camouflage design. He spent a lot of money. Tag
wondered about the running shoes. Did Delaney want to use him as bait?
“It’s still summer,” Tag pointed out as they climbed back in the Land Rover.
“The weather here can change in a moment.”
So Delaney wasn’t envisaging him being around in the winter. Maybe Tag wouldn’t survive that
long.
 11
As the light faded, it started to rain. Tag stared out at the changing landscape. Rolling hills had
been almost obliterated by sheeting water. They were on a narrow road winding through darkening
moorland and Delaney hadn’t let his speed drop. Tag couldn’t understand how he could see where he
was going. This water-world was like a different planet.
“Where are we?” Tag asked.
“Wales.”
I know that! But Tag held back his snap. “I’m sorry I couldn’t share the driving. This vehicle’s
more complicated. I can see you have to do a lot of pushing and pulling with that lever. Maybe you
could teach me.”
“We’ll see.”
“Is the house out in the middle of nowhere?”
“Not really.”
Delaney wasn’t in a chatty mood. But then was he ever? Although he’d said Tag wasn’t going to
be bait, that didn’t mean shit. They couldn’t stay in Wales forever. Delaney had to have some sort of
plan. Tag kept thinking of Rafiq and his prince. It was like a romance novel. He wanted to help them.
It stood to sense that if Ahsan was in Scotland, then he was probably being held at the place where
the…hunters would assemble. Delaney could tell his boss, who’d send people in with guns blazing
and save the day. If Delaney was out there too with a rifle, he could…disable the men who were
trying to shoot Tag. Right?
Tag knew there were a lot of assumptions in there. Ahsan might be anywhere in Scotland. He
might not still be alive. The whole thing could be a trap to catch him and Delaney. If Delaney wasn’t
there to protect him, Tag’s chances of survival plummeted. And if he and Delaney were running for
their lives, Tag would be a hindrance.
They turned off onto a single-track road and after about a hundred metres, Delaney pulled up at a
metal gate. In the time it took him to take off a padlock and get back in the vehicle, he was soaked. He
somehow managed to look sexy even when he was wet through.
The gate closed behind them.
“You do magic too?” Tag asked. “Is there no end to your skills?”
“They’ll open and close on approach now I’ve switched the sensors back on, and a buzzer will go
off in the house.”
The rain eased off as they made their way up the hill, the dark clouds rolled away and the sky
lightened. Tag was expecting to see a stone-built cottage, but it looked like a farmhouse and barn.
Security lights came on as they pulled up.
“Stay here while I sort things out.”
Tag watched as Delaney disappeared around the back of the building. Several minutes later, the
front door opened. There was light behind Delaney but nothing shining through the windows. When he
walked over to the vehicle and began to unload, Tag climbed out to help.
Inside, the place looked similar to the house in Kent. The kitchen had been knocked through to
make one big area. There were blinds over all the windows and Tag guessed they stopped light
completely. Yet again, there were no photographs, no items of personal significance. If anyone broke
in, they’d discover nothing about Delaney other than what size clothes he wore.
Once everything was inside, Delaney moved the Land Rover to the barn, then came back to the
house. He looked shattered and Tag moved to hug him, only for Delaney to step out of reach.
 “Hey! Maybe it’s me that needs the hug,” Tag whispered.
“I’m wet.”
“I don’t care.”
Maybe Delaney saw something in his face that made him change his mind, because he wrapped
his arms around him, and Tag sagged against him, clinging on and shaking. Delaney’s exhalations hit
Tag’s cheek like ghost kisses when Tag really wanted the real thing. He was afraid of him moving
away again.
“I am so close to freaking out,” Tag whispered.
“I know.”
“Where’s the swimming pool and the gym and the 60-inch TV?” He thought fast. “And the hot tub
and the bull-riding machine? Ah, I’m an idiot, the bull-riding machine’s a constant attraction.”
He rocked his hips against Delaney and felt him chuckle.
“Any rules while we’re here?” Tag asked, still clutching him tight. Don’t let me go! Not yet. Not
until my heart has calmed down.
“Are you going to follow any rules?”
“I’m crushed that you think I wouldn’t.”
“Hmm. I don’t want any lights to be seen so don’t interfere with the blinds. They need to be in
place when it’s dark. One disadvantage of relative isolation is that occupied houses can be seen from
a distance. Don’t use your phone unless it’s to speak to me.”
“But we’re safe here?”
“As much as we can be.” He took Tag’s wrists and pulled out his arms so he could get free.
“Unpack. Once I’ve showered, I’ll make us something to eat.”
“Which bedroom should I have?”
“There’s only one.”
“Where are you going to sleep then?”
Delaney laughed.
When Delaney went upstairs, Tag unpacked the stuff he’d bought in the supermarket. Some things
went in the freezer and fridge, the rest stayed in the bag and he put that in a cupboard. He was going to
find a way to make Delaney loosen up.
Tag put away the rest of the groceries. The place was warming up by the time he took his bags and
the new gear upstairs. Just one room as Delaney had said. He could hear the shower running but he
did as he’d been told and put his stuff in an empty drawer.
Everything in the bedroom was blue, grey and white. Curtains hung over the blinds. Tag had
hoped to check out the area before it was completely dark, see where he needed to run if it came to it,
but he left the blinds alone.
Delaney came into the bedroom dressed, just as Tag was checking the box to see if his otter had
survived.
It had.
“What’s that?” Delaney asked.
Tag showed him.
“That’s really good.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I have talented hands.”
“And a talented mouth.”
Tag smiled.
“Sometimes,” Delaney added.
 Tag scowled.
“I assume we can get more clay on Amazon.” Delaney handed Tag his phone. “Show me what to
order.”
Tag found the right product and handed it back.
“How many packets? I want you to make something you can hide the diamonds inside.”
“Like a treasure box?”
Delaney rolled his beautiful eyes. “I was thinking of a whale. I want you to keep what you make.
A line of animals. It’ll be a good hiding place.”
“Okay. Maybe four packets?”
Delaney placed the order. “They’ll be here tomorrow.”

They ate chicken and roasted cauliflower with a thick sauce that Delaney had made from blitzed
fried onions, toasted cashews and some spice or other. It was delicious. After they’d cleaned up,
Delaney settled on the couch. There was a chess board on the coffee table, a game in progress.
“Do you have any friends?” Tag asked.
“No. That’s why I’ve lived as long as I have.”
“That’s sad. Not that you’ve lived as long as you have, but that you don’t have friends.”
“Do you?”
“Not really. They end up letting you down.”
“The less contact I have with anyone, the fewer the potential ways I might find myself betrayed.
Safer not to trust anyone. But while that makes sense for me, I don’t see why it does for you.”
Tag ignored that. “Do you play yourself at chess?”
“Not much fun but I always win.”
Tag huffed.
“Do you play?” Delaney asked.
“A bit.”
“Want a game?”
“What do I get if I win?”
Delaney rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to win.”
“If I win, I get to fuck you,” Tag said.
“And if I win?”
“Er… Let me think. I get to fuck you.”
Delaney laughed so hard he ended up coughing. “Try again.”
“If you win, you can do anything you like to me.”
Delaney raised his eyebrows.
“Without me complaining,” Tag added.
“And if I win?” Delaney repeated.
“I can do anything I like to you.”
“And how is that different from what you suggested before?”
“I promise not to try and fist you.”
“Now you’ve taken all the fun out of it.”
Tag glared. “Fine. Which side of the bed do you sleep on? The one who wins gets to choose.”
“I sleep on any side I like.”
“If I win, I get to order you around,” Tag said.
Delaney shrugged. “Fine.”
 He picked up black and white pawns, moved them between his hands and held out his clenched
fists.
Tag picked left and it was white. He put the pawn back on the board as Delaney rearranged the
out-of-place pieces.
“Make your move,” Delaney said.
Tag knew Delaney was going to be good, but Tag didn’t want to show that he was good too, not
right away. Plus, maybe Delaney was so brilliant that Tag would lose.
Ten moves in, Delaney leaned back on the couch, cupped the back of his head in his hands, and
looked at him. “Do you play? That was my question. A bit, was your answer?”
“I haven’t played for years.”
Delaney leaned forward again. Tag found it hard not to look at him when he should have been
concentrating on the board. He wanted to win, but he knew Delaney wanted it more.
Thirty-six moves later, Tag had the game.
“Well done,” Delaney said.
“Thank you.”
“Who taught you to play?”
“An inmate. Want another game? If I win, I’ll be the bait if they arrange that hunt.”
“No.” Delaney pushed to his feet. “I’m going to bed. Everything’s locked up. There are alarms
set, so don’t leave the house.”
Tag sagged as he watched him go. He hadn’t meant to piss him off.
He gave Delaney time to get into bed, then went up himself. When he’d finished in the bathroom,
he stripped and climbed in beside Delaney doing everything he could to disturb him. Delaney said
nothing and didn’t move a muscle. Tag rolled one way, then rolled the other and did his best to steal
the sheet that was covering Delaney. On the last roll, he almost fell out of bed.
“If you move again, it will be the last time you move,” Delaney said quietly.
“I thought you were asleep, Alex.”
Delaney sighed.
“Sorry to disturb you, Victor.”
“Are you really?”
“No, Nigel.”
“Keep still. Otherwise, you’ll be sleeping on the floor.”
“What if I roll over when I’m asleep.”
“I’ll kick you out of bed. Stop talking.”
“What if I talk in my sleep?”
“I’ll strangle you.”
Tag smiled. “Is heavy breathing allowed?”
“Why would you be breathing heavily?”
“Duh!”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Delaney growled into his neck.
Tag closed his eyes and sighed silently. Only for his eyes to flash open a moment later when he
felt a finger twisting the hair on the back of his neck. Goose bumps flashed down his arms. Delaney
slowly drew his finger down the centre of his back, all the way to a place that made Tag suck in a
breath. Then he did it again. Over and over until finally he was using his tongue and Tag couldn’t have
moved, for anything. Delaney left a trail of gentle little flicks and licks all the way down Tag’s spine
and into the crease of his backside, and heat curled in the pit of Tag’s stomach.
 For a moment, he thought he was going to get rimmed for the first time in his life, until “That’s so
good,” slipped from his lips and Delaney moved back. Because I spoke? What is it with him? Hands
spread the cheeks of his backside and cold lube splashed his arsehole.
Tag flinched. “That was quick,” he blurted. “You can get tablets for that.”
“Shut up.”
Delaney clamped a hand over Tag’s mouth and thrust inside him hard enough to make Tag arch in
pain, then arch again in pleasure. Delaney kept his hand on his mouth and pounded into him. It didn’t
shut Tag up, not completely. He was whimpering into Delaney’s palm, gasping each time he drove his
cock into him, the mix of pleasure and pain blurring to pure pleasure the longer it went on. He was
hitting his prostate on every stroke and Tag could feel himself riding higher and higher.
“Don’t come on the bed,” Delaney said.
Fuck!
Delaney pulled out and flipped Tag over, his hand on Tag’s shoulder now and not his mouth, but
holding him down. As he pushed back inside him, he wrapped his other hand around Tag’s cock,
jerking him off until with a loud, choked cry Tag came over Delaney’s fingers. A moment later,
Delaney stiffened and came too. Tag had his eyes shut because he wasn’t sure he could bear to see
something he didn’t want to see on Delaney’s face. Dislike? Disdain? That had been rougher than Tag
had hoped for, yet still hot. Because I’m an idiot.
Yet Tag thought he knew what Delaney was trying to do. Show Tag he wasn’t important, that this
—whatever it was they had—meant nothing. Tag was a convenient inconvenience and once Delaney
had no more need for him, he was gone. And yet Tag didn’t believe it. Maybe he was an idiot.
When Delaney pulled out and dropped onto his back, Tag reached for some tissues and cleaned
Delaney’s hand, then his cock, wrapping up the condom and putting them on the bedside table.
Delaney’s eyes were closed and he lay with his arm over his face still breathing heavily.
“Are you okay, Mike?” Tag asked.
“Stop fucking aggravating me.”
“Not sure I can, Bartholomew.”
Delaney reached out and grabbed Tag around the back of the head, and Tag thought he’d gone too
far until he found himself pulled in until he was half-lying on Delaney’s chest. He listened to
Delaney’s heart pounding and smiled.
“What are you smiling about?” Delaney asked.
“I worried all that exercise might be too much for you at your age, but your heart’s fine.”
Delaney pushed him out of bed.

Early the next morning while Tag was still asleep, curled up like a comma on the edge of the bed,
Delaney dyed his hair back to white, then crept out of the house. He took a folding shovel and his
backpack and locked the door behind him. The alarms were off, but theoretically, Tag shouldn’t be
able to get out of the house. It would be interesting to see if he managed it. Delaney had one moment
of panic that Tag would set fire to the place and be trapped, then dismissed it. He’d break a window
to escape. Hopefully he wouldn’t feel that desperate until Delaney got back.
Delaney headed up the hill behind the house and when he’d gone over the fence into the wood, he
walked exactly twenty-five paces south until he stood in front of an elm tree. Then he turned east and
walked another twenty paces. Delaney scowled when he saw the nettles but he’d brought gloves. He
started to dig.
Around two feet down he hit something and several minutes later, he’d excavated a package
wrapped in blue waterproof material. Inside was a rectangular metal case. Delaney clicked it open.
The foam interior protected a SIG Scharfschützengewehr 3000, or SSG 3000, a sniper rifle that at a
glance could pass for a hunting rifle, though this weapon had a flash hider on the end of the barrel.
The rifle looked as good as when Delaney had put it there. It was broken down into stock, barrel,
scope and grip to allow it to fit in the case. Delaney put the extra ammunition into his backpack.
There was other stuff in the hole too, some of which he took, before reburying the rest. He
couldn’t do much about the nettles looking disturbed but they’d grow back. He hoped he wouldn’t
need the rifle, but if an invitation to Scotland was made, he’d be ready.
The house was exactly as he’d left it. No fire. No broken windows. Tag was still asleep in bed,
his bare arse now on display. I must be mad keeping him around. There were very few places where
Delaney felt safe. Even in one of his houses, he had to stay wary. Now there was a bomb lying in front
of him. And he’d brought it here. It was only a matter of time before it went off.
Delaney opened the blinds and Tag still didn’t stir. Delaney’s gaze kept sliding to him and before
he gave in and fucked him, he smacked him hard on the backside. Tag jerked upright with a yelp, his
eyes wide with shock.
“What the fuck? Ooh…you’re Vadim again?”
“Maybe soon. Get dressed. T-shirt, shorts, the running shoes I bought you.”
Delaney thought Tag would complain, but he didn’t. He put on what Delaney had told him to, then
cleaned his teeth.
“Is this the way you usually start off the day?” Tag spat foam into the sink, then rinsed off the mess
he’d made.
Delaney didn’t answer.
“Can I have marmalade on toast when we get back?”
“You’re expecting me to make it?”
“I won the chess. I get to order you around.”
“And toast is all you want?”
“Hey, I never set a time limit.”
“And I never agreed.”
“You did. You said fine.”
“Fine to you ordering me around. I didn’t agree to do as you told me.”
Tag huffed and stomped out of the house.
Delaney set the alarm and locked up. When he turned, Tag was stretching.
“Try to keep up,” Delaney said as he did some stretches of his own.
“What if I don’t?”
“Imagine there’s a guy with a gun who’s going to shoot you if you fall behind.”
“I usually just imagine a bear chasing me. I think I’ll call this one Delaney. Oh, except I’ll be
following you so that won’t work.”
“Shut up and run.”
Delaney didn’t expect Tag to be able to keep up with him, and the kid surprised him yet again. But
there was a difference between running on streets and running over terrain where you could trip on a
root or a rock or an unexpected hole. When Tag was still close behind at the top of the slope, Delaney
went up a gear. He loved running, especially on chilly summer mornings like this with the promise of
heat in the air. Endorphins flooded his body. He felt glad to be alive. Lucky to be alive.
By the time he’d run half the circuit he usually did when he was in Wales, he’d almost forgotten
Tag was behind him. He looked back, expecting to see him a long way back and he was less than
twenty metres away. Tag had a better body for running than Delaney. Delaney’s weight was muscle
but being heavier meant he was slower. What he did have was stamina, but so it appeared did Tag and
it made him think again about Norbury’s hunting plans.
Still, there was a difference between running for fun and running because you had a bear behind
you. More than one bear and all of them armed with rifles. Maybe they were trained marksmen, ex-
military or just regulars on big game hunts who fancied a different kind of prey. Sick fucks. Delaney
would rather have that information going into this but he couldn’t risk arousing suspicion by asking
Feely again.
Whatever the case, Tag would have to be quick and smart, not just fast but know how to duck and
dive and hide. Delaney didn’t know why he was even considering letting Tag get involved in this.
Maybe if he knew he could keep him safe… But he couldn’t be sure that would be possible. And it
fucked him off that he was even worried about keeping Tag safe because that put himself in danger.
In theory, there was no need for any of this to get beyond Norbury’s little group of players
committing to shooting someone for fun. If Henry had a team up there ready to intervene, Tag wouldn’t
have to run at all. Would he? But until they knew exactly where this was going to take place, Delaney
would be Tag’s only protection.
He put on a burst of speed when the cottage came into view. No way was he going to let Tag get
there first. Delaney managed to beat him, but Tag wasn’t as out of breath as he was and he recovered
quicker.
“How often do you run?” Delaney asked once he could speak without gasping.
“A few times a week. Free exercise.”
“Where do you run?”
“Parks, Thames Path or if it’s early enough, on the streets.”
“You didn’t have a problem with the uneven ground we just covered?”
Tag shrugged. “Just have to watch where you put your feet, same as in London but for different
reasons. Broken slabs, rubbish, dog shit or cyclists veering across your path.”
“You’re good.”
“Wow, is that a compliment?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
Tag chuckled. “Too late.”
Delaney unlocked the door, deactivated the alarm and Tag followed him inside. Once his shoes
were off, Tag made for the stairs. Delaney removed his and followed. Tag stripped as he went and
Delaney picked up his clothes on the way and left his and Tag’s in a pile by the open bathroom door.
Tag stood sideways on with his head tipped back, water cascading down his body. He didn’t look
at Delaney, but Delaney knew this was a show for his benefit and he wasn’t complaining. He stood
watching before he joined Tag in the shower, long enough for him to get very hard. Tag allowed his
mouth to fill with water, then squirted it at Delaney. Delaney shouldered him out of the way and took
Tag’s place under the flow. When he felt Tag’s soapy hands sliding over his shoulders, then over his
pecs, washing him, he felt his stomach lurch.
“I let you beat me,” Tag said.
Delaney’s eyes shot open.
“You sulked about the chess. You have a bigger ego than me. But I’m faster than you. Nippier. I
could outrun them in Scotland.”
Delaney didn’t know what annoyed him more. The idea that Tag had let him win or that Tag was
stupid enough to think he could outrun a bullet. Or that the idiot still wanted to go even after Delaney
had told him that wasn’t what he wanted. Didn’t matter that he’d been going over the logistics of it as
he ran.
“Never allow me to win,” Delaney pinched Tag’s nipple—hard.
“Ouch! Sorry.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“I am. Honestly, but nipple play turns me on, just so you know.”
Delaney laughed. He couldn’t help it. Tag annoyed and irritated him in equal measure, but this
was the longest Delaney had been around anyone since he was a kid and Tag was growing on him.
Tag wrapped his arms around his neck. “You want me right here, Geronimo?”
“Not if you keep calling me stupid names.”
“Sorry, Percy.”
Tag gave him a cheeky smile and kissed him, pressing his tongue into Delaney’s mouth and
grinding up against him. Delaney wasn’t used to all this kissing, but he liked that Tag always wanted
to kiss him. Delaney pushed him back to the tiles, their lips still together, their cocks rigid between
them. Tag’s tongue was exploring his mouth, moaning as he did it, then as much as Delaney had
wanted the kissing, it suddenly became too much, or rather it implied too much, and he put his hand on
Tag’s shoulder and pressed hard.
“On your knees.”
When Tag didn’t move, Delaney pushed him down.
Tag yelped when his knees hit the floor.
“Now show me how sorry—” Delaney gasped as Tag took his cock to the back of his throat in one
swallow, though it did make him choke a little.
Tag slid his lips back, looked up at him, said “Wow” and did it again. When he pulled off he was
panting.
“Was the wow for me or you?”
“I’ve never had a cock that big in my mouth before. I’ve amazed myself so I guess it’s a wow for
both of us.”
When Tag started sucking again, his fingers on Delaney’s hips, thumbs tracing circles, he took
hold of Tag’s wrists and pushed them behind the kid’s back. Sex not affection. That was all it could
be. The hot water poured over them both, splashing Delaney’s shoulders and Tag’s head. Delaney
threaded his fingers in Tag’s hair and held him in place as he fucked his mouth. Too hard. But Tag let
him.
Too fast, too much, but Delaney was already coming. Tag swallowed all of his release, gulping
and gasping as Delaney held him in place until he’d done. When he finally let his cock slip from
between Tag’s lips, Tag looked up at him and smirked. Delaney was about to wipe that smirk off his
face until Tag curled up at his feet. To Delaney’s astonishment, Tag managed to get his own cock into
his mouth.
Delaney stopped breathing. Jesus! He’d seen this online but… His balls tingled. He couldn’t have
moved if the house was about to blow up around him. Tag moaned, then uncurled, come dripping from
his mouth. As he pushed up onto his knees, another orgasm hit Delaney, a weak one, but he spurted
onto Tag’s face.
Tag grinned. “If we live through this, we can always get a job in porn.”
 12
Tag came into the kitchen to see a rifle and two guns on the table. The rifle was in pieces and
Delaney was cleaning it.
“Can I work on my clay at the other end?”
“If you can keep quiet.”
“Will it put you off if I’m not? You’d stick the wrong bits together?”
He’d hoped for a smile but Delaney didn’t even sigh. Tag went to get the otter from his bag along
with his tools. He unrolled a rectangle of flexible plastic to work on, filled his spray bottle with
water, and took the otter from its packaging. He didn’t have the face quite right yet, so he worked on
that, removing clay with a tiny ribbon tool, and redefining the baby otter’s features with a sculpting
needle.
He wasn’t going to be able to wrap this up again. It felt ages since he’d started to model it, though
it wasn’t. He used a toothbrush to give the fur some texture, beginning to like what he’d made. He
even sacrificed a few bristles of the toothbrush to make whiskers. They might not stay in but they
looked cute.
When doing anything more was going to spoil what he’d done, Tag leaned back to see Delaney
staring at him. Tag had been so engrossed in what he was doing that he hadn’t even noticed Delaney
had put his guns away.
“So you can keep quiet for longer than ten minutes,” Delaney said.
“If you’d lasted more than two minutes with your cock in my mouth, you’d have seen I could.”
Eek! Tag was relieved when Delaney laughed.
“A rat and its baby. It’s really good.”
Tag almost rose to the bait, but instead he smiled and said, “Thanks.”
“It just dries on its own?” Delaney asked.
“Yep. You can bake it in the oven, but there’s no need.”
“You should be doing it for a living.”
“Yeah, well not many people want models of rats.”
“Put it on the mantelpiece.”
Tag carefully carried it over.
“What are you going to do with the bits of clay that are left?”
“Throw them in the bin. I’ve worked them too many times.”
A buzzer sounded and Tag jumped.
“It’s probably the parcel from Amazon. Good timing. Just in case it’s not your clay, move to the
side of the window.”
Delaney slipped a gun into the back of his trousers.
Even though Tag was expecting the bang on the door, he still started when it came. He stayed
where he was, his heart hammering. Delaney didn’t open the door and a moment later, a vehicle drove
away. There was another buzz a few minutes later, that indicated the vehicle had gone through the
gate.
“Stay where you are,” Delaney said.
He cautiously opened the door and went out. When he came back, he was carrying an Amazon box
that he’d already opened.
“Are you usually that careful?” Tag asked.
“I’m still alive. What if someone knew I’d ordered from Amazon and sent me a bomb?”
 “Amazon sell bombs?”
“In the weapons section.”
Tag rolled his eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked how many people didn’t like you. I should
have asked how many people want to kill you.”
“I don’t know.” Delaney handed him the clay.
“Want me to make the whale now?”
“Yes. I’ll get the diamonds. The sooner they’re hidden, the better.”
Whales were easy. Tag had made them lots of times. Even before Delaney had returned with the
gems, he’d constructed the basic shape.
“I’ll make us something to eat,” Delaney told him. “You didn’t get your toast and marmalade.
How about roast beef and mustard sandwiches?”
“Thank you.”
Tag made a hole in the whale’s belly, slipped one of the bags of diamonds inside and closed the
hole up again. By the time Delaney put sandwiches on the table, the whale was done, complete with a
few barnacles.
“Probably the most expensive whale sculpture in the world,” Tag said.
“Is it a whale?”
Tag ignored him and washed his hands.
Delaney was examining the sculpture when Tag sat down.
“You’re right,” Delaney said. “An eight and a half million-pound whale.”
Tag laughed. “I’d be lucky if I sold it for eight pounds fifty. Did you know the most expensive
sculpture in the world was sold for over 140 million dollars? Alberto Giacometti’s L’ Homme au
doigt.”
“Pointing Man.”
“It’s a thin bronze sculpture. There’s six of them. I’ve seen the one in the Tate Gallery. I don’t
think it’s worth that amount of money though.” He sank his teeth into the sandwich. It was delicious.
“How can any work of art be worth that much?”
Tag shrugged. “Someone just decided it was and that was that. If you’re mega-rich, what else do
you have to spend your money on other than helping a shitload of people whose lives would be
changed for the better by a few thousand quid? I feel the same about the National Lottery. It would be
better to give a hundred people a million each than give one person a hundred million. Even better to
give two hundred people half a million. But people wouldn’t buy tickets. They want the big money. I
think it’s fairer to share it out. Does more good.”
Delaney smiled. “You’re a philanthropist now, are you?”
“Don’t they collect stamps?”
“Ha ha.”
“The sculptor is dead, so he won’t be making any more. That has something to do with it. Like the
price of diamonds, I suppose. The rarer something is, the more expensive it is, the more it’s valued
and admired. So… who knows where these diamonds are?”
“You, me and the whale.”
“I mean who knows you still have them?”
“The two who helped with the robbery might suspect I still have them. One of them in particular,
if he was responsible for the tracker on my bag, and the men who paid a visit to my house. A few
people in the organisation I work for know, and Rafiq too.”
“And they belong to Rafiq?”
 “To Ahsan who told Rafiq to sell them if he disappeared. If he’s telling the truth.”
“Do you think he is?”
Delaney nodded. “He told me he’d give them up to get Ahsan back.”
Tag sighed. “He loves him.”
“Yeah.”
“Would you tell me to sell your diamonds if you disappeared?” Tag fluttered his eyelashes.
Delaney huffed. “I don’t have any.”
“Your guns then?”
“Oh yeah, that’s such a good idea.”
“You love them though. You took a lot of care cleaning them.”
“Love?” Delaney raised his eyebrows. “I look after them because I can’t afford for them to let me
down. I take care of them, they take care of me.”
Tag swallowed hard. It shouldn’t come as a shock that Delaney was self-centred. With a job like
his, he couldn’t afford not to be. “Do you work for MI5?”
“Do you expect me to answer that?”
“It’s not like I’ll tell anyone.”
Delaney chuckled.
“I wouldn’t! Are you like a hitman for them?”
No answer.
“Try this question instead,” Tag said. “What are we doing here?”
“Keeping away from people who are trying to kill one or both of us.”
“But we can’t hide forever.”
Delaney didn’t say anything.
Tag squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Tell me the plan,” he whispered. “Pleeeease.”
“Stop whining.”
“Tell me again who might be trying to kill us.”
“Give it a rest.”
“Do we need to add names I’ve not heard of to the list? Have you pissed off people all over the
UK? The entire world? We need to make a list and go through it, see if we can work out what we
should do.”
“What’s with the ‘we’?” Delaney asked.
Tag flinched. “I want to help. I’m here with you, aren’t I? We’re a ‘we’. If we’re not a ‘we’ then I
can just leave, right?”
“Not until Norbury and his team are in custody.”
Then I’m on my own again. While that was what Delaney no doubt wanted, it wasn’t what Tag
hoped for.
All he had to do was make Delaney want him enough to keep him.
And what fantasy world am I living in? One in the capital of Sweden? Stockholm Syndrome
seemed a distinct possibility.

While Tag made an elephant to hide the other bag of diamonds, Delaney was glued to his laptop
reading Norbury’s files. Tag wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, but he’d declined Tag’s
help. So Tag carried on making animals with the clay and sculpted a dog, tiger, penguin and baby and
polar bear, plus baby. They were all on the mantelpiece and he had no clay left.
He picked a book from the shelf and lounged on the couch but he couldn’t get into it. Maybe he’d
done a lot of sighing because Delaney huffed and pushed to his feet.
“Put your shoes on. I’ll give you a driving lesson.”
Tag leapt up.

His enthusiasm had long gone by the time Delaney finished explaining what everything was and
how to change gear.
“Did you get all that?” Delaney asked.
“Yes.” Though, had he?
“Okay, so drive. Talk me through what you’re doing as you do it.”
“Handbrake is on, check the car’s in neutral and start. Then, clutch in, select gear and then
handbrake off and clutch up, foot on the accelerator.”
“Good. If you’re worried at any time, just put your foot on the brake. The car will stall but better
that than hitting something.”
Tag managed to get the gear stick into first and tried to do what Delaney had told him to do with
his feet, that sort of balance, only for the Land Rover to jerk forward and stall. When he did manage
to get his foot off the clutch and keep going, he was moving so slowly, he could have walked faster.
At least they were only on the track leading down to the gate.
“Second gear,” Delaney said.
Tag tried but the Land Rover juddered to a halt.
“What did I do?”
“Pulled on the hand brake.”
“Are you laughing?” Tag glared.
“No.”
But he was.
They started off again and had made it around a bend when Tag spotted a squirrel in the middle of
the track. He yanked at the wheel and slammed on the brake. They screeched to a stop sideways and
stalled again.
“Oh God, did I hit it?” Tag fumbled with the gear stick, then climbed out only to realise to his
horror that the vehicle was still moving towards the hedge.
Delaney pulled on the handbrake and glared at him. Tag went to the front and there was no sign of
the squirrel. He exhaled in relief.
Delaney came to his side. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“But it was a squirrel.”
“If you’d had a vehicle at the side of you, or a pedestrian, you could have killed them.”
“You mean I should have run the squirrel over?”
“Yes.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
Delaney turned the vehicle round and changed seats. “Drive us back.”
“I’m not going onto the road?”
“You don’t have a provisional license.”
“Is that the only reason? Because that didn’t stop you before. Is it because I might see another
squirrel? You know I’m going to brake again, right?”
Delaney huffed.
It took Tag three goes to get the vehicle moving and he stalled when he tried to change gear. When
he eventually pulled up outside the house, he groaned in relief, then turned to Delaney. “Maybe I’d
better stick to what I’m good at.” Tag reached over to unfasten Delaney’s trousers.
He’d worried Delaney would push him away but he didn’t. Tag knelt on the seat and leaned over
to stroke and kiss and play with Delaney’s cock, sealing his lips around it and humming as he sucked.
Delaney didn’t say anything so Tag did. “You taste good.”
Delaney’s fingers were in Tag’s hair and Tag pressed up against his hand because he wanted that
touch.
“Hold me,” Tag whispered.
“Shut up and suck me.”
“Please.”
“Shut up and suck me, please.”
Tag licked up and down his length, then nuzzled against Delaney’s cock, precome leaving a wet
patch on his cheek. I can be the best you’ve ever had. I can! Tag swallowed him down, half-choking,
but doing his best not to gag. Fingers and tongue and lips worked in conjunction until he heard
Delaney’s breathing change, felt his cock swell, then he was coming and Tag had trouble swallowing
it all.
When he pulled off, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wiped it, then licked each finger in
turn while he stared into Delaney’s face. Tag deliberately widened his eyes, hoping for words of
praise but none came.
Why the hell do I still like him?
Because I know there’s possibility there.
Tag suspected Delaney was like this because he was protecting himself. He’d never been able to
trust anyone or to relax. What a horrible way to live. Tag knew, because when he’d come out of
prison, that was exactly how he’d felt. But Delaney could change. Tag really believed that. But
sometimes Delaney made it hard for Tag to keep hoping.

That afternoon, Delaney made him go running again. Tag was upset with him because he’d turned
cold again, but didn’t want to show it. As he followed Delaney up the hill, he decided to do
something different and let Delaney get further ahead, before slipping off to the side to hide behind an
outcrop of rocks. It was several minutes before he heard Delaney’s voice.
“Playing hide-and-seek or have you fallen and broken your neck?”
Tag didn’t answer.
“Because I think you’re in that bunch of rocks.”
Shit.
Tag used the cover of the rocks to make his way down the slope, then hid in the bracken. Minutes
later he was pounced on by Delaney.
“Tag!” Delaney called.
“Hey, you could have broken my neck.”
Delaney laughed. They lay on their backs in the bracken, in the late afternoon sun and when
Delaney threaded his fingers with his, Tag’s heart almost jumped out of his chest. Moments like this
kept Tag’s hope alive.
“Spycraft 101,” Delaney said. “Keep close to hedges and walls and avoid walking through the
centre of fields. Keep to the side of a wood as opposed to heading through the middle because you’ll
have a greater range of vision and make less noise. It’s harder to spot a moving object if it’s set
against a dark background. Also be wary of crossing the skyline. Crawl over.”
Tag listened intently as Delaney described how to hide, what sort of places to hide and not hide,
how to evade capture, then showed him how to break out of someone’s hold when you were captured.
Though Tag failed to break any of Delaney’s holds.
“I know how to fight dirty,” Tag told him. “I’m not going to go for your balls or your eyes, but I
know to do that.”
“Just talk them to death.”
“I thought you liked my mouth.” Tag pouted.
“Hmm.”
But Tag watched Delaney’s Adam’s apple shift in his throat.
“Hiding at night is more or less impossible if hunters have night vision goggles, right?” Tag asked.
“Wearing thick clothing helps, but if you’re running, that can slow you down. Cover any exposed
skin with cool dirt. Hiding under survival blankets can work for a while but your heat builds up
beneath them. In warm weather, staying near water can help too. Look for confusing backgrounds that
might have other heat sources, like a field of sheep, or set fire to something as a distraction.”
You want me to go to Scotland? Tag didn’t ask it, but how could he think otherwise? What was
all this for if not for that?
“You’re not acting as bait,” Delaney said, as if he’d guessed what Tag was thinking. “This is just
in case. If someone comes here, we might need to run. We might not be running together.”
He stood and pulled Tag to his feet. “Go and hide. I’ll give you three minutes. I won’t shout when
I start to look for you. You won’t get that courtesy if you’re running for real.”
Tag ran.
It was depressing how easily Delaney found him. All five times.

Tag was having trouble fathoming Delaney out. It was a little like playing chess: sometimes you
didn’t realise a move was going to get you into trouble until you’d made it, then saw what you’d
missed. They’d be getting along fine, more than fine, then Delaney would get pissed off with him for
something or nothing and Tag got sent up to the bedroom like a naughty kid, only for Delaney to come
up after a while and fuck him senseless.
There was affection sometimes, when Delaney did things like curling Tag’s hair around his finger,
until he realised what he was doing and pulled away. Tag felt as if it was the beginning of the end. He
shouldn’t care so much. They hardly knew each other. But he did care. He felt like he’d been
promised something and it was being taken back. And he knew that wasn’t even true. Delaney had
promised nothing. All Tag had asked was not to get hurt and Delaney had at least managed part of that,
except Tag was hurt.
It was his own fault. He knew better than to set his expectations too high, or even to have any
expectations. Yet there was something in Delaney’s eyes when he looked at him… It made Tag
wonder.
Tag had never eaten so well, never exercised as much, or had sex so many times. All Delaney had
to do was slip his fingers into Tag’s hair, or touch his back, or just glance at him and they ended up
kissing. No matter how the kiss started, it soon changed into something else, their tongues tangling,
Delaney yanking at his hair while Tag kept making all these weird gasping, whining sounds, fighting
to get at Delaney’s skin and Delaney letting him. Sometimes.
In bed, they worked, yet Tag still felt as if something was pulling them apart. Or maybe they’d
never been as close as he’d imagined. I don’t know this guy. And I’m never likely to. Yet he couldn’t
help how he felt about Delaney. Maybe it was that Stockholm Syndrome because Tag had never felt
like this about anyone before and although Delaney had saved his life more than once, it still wasn’t
that. He couldn’t have explained to anyone why he liked this awkward, sulky, introverted stranger
who wouldn’t even tell him his name. It made no sense.
While Delaney spent hours on his laptop, Tag took to wandering off on his own with a book,
climbing a hill, taking off his clothes and lying on them in the sun. It was like a holiday, though he’d
never had one. Since he’d come out of the YOI, he’d always worked. He liked the idea of exploring
other countries, seeing how other people lived, checking out some of the world’s wonders, but his
criminal conviction meant he’d never see the Grand Canyon, or Ayers Rock, or British Columbia or
the Great Wall of China. Though the chances of saving up for a trip to do anything like that were zero.
His past was an invisible chain around his ankle and it wasn’t fair. But then, little was.
He lay daydreaming about him and Delaney having a holiday on a beach rather than a Welsh
hillside, opening the door of the place they were renting and running out onto the sand. If Tag could
swim better, then he’d run into the sea. That was what holidays were like, right? Nothing much to do
but laze around or do a bit of sightseeing. They’d only been in Wales for a few days but it felt longer.
Even so, Tag knew it would come to an end and he’d be on his own again. The thought felt like claws
dragging at his chest.
Men like Delaney didn’t have boyfriends. Especially not ones like me.

Delaney rolled his neck and closed his eyes as he pushed back from his laptop. There’d been a lot
of data on that USB. Some of it he couldn’t make any sense of, though he’d kept trying. The stuff
concerning the regular business at Harborne House was clear-ish: the weddings, wakes, mud races,
murder-mystery weekends and the rest. But Delaney still read it all, just in case. Most of what
happened on those occasions seemed above board, but the yearly planner had dates crossed off in
black where nothing had been written. Since the weekend of the pony party was one that was crossed
off, it wasn’t hard to figure out that what took place at those times wasn’t above board.
He hadn’t found any mention of Prince Ahsan. The details of all the guests who’d been at the pony
play were there. He’d already been through it once, but went through it again.
This sort of investigative work wasn’t Delaney’s forte. He suspected that the Concorde House
team had made easier work of it than him. He also suspected that Norbury wasn’t stupid enough to
keep anything on a computer that could lead to him going to prison. Delaney was probably wasting his
time. While Tag was out of the house, he lay on the couch where he could see the front door, and
called Rafiq.
“Hi,” Rafiq said.
“Everything okay?” Delaney asked.
“Ahsan isn’t with me so no, but I went where you told me to go, did what you told me to do and I
wasn’t followed. Has anything happened?”
“Not yet. I’ve not heard from Norbury or the Master.”
“They must still be looking for Tag. Are they likely to find him?”
“No.”
Rafiq sighed. “I know I should be happy for Tag’s sake but unless I can find out where Ahsan is
being kept, I have no chance of rescuing him.”
Delaney didn’t give him much chance of managing that on his own anyway.
“I’ve bought a used car. I’m still worried that Saad’s just going to turn up and make me disappear.
At least having a car gives me a chance.” Rafiq let out a shaky exhalation. “I miss Ahsan so much and
I can’t stop thinking about what they might be doing to him.”
 Delaney could offer little reassurance. The best he could manage was “Don’t give up hope.”
“I’ll never do that.”
The next call was to Feely.
“Vadim! How are you?”
“Busy, busy. Just wonder if you lay your hands on that little fucker yet?”
“No, but we’re considering doing something a little different. More than one target. Are you still
interested?”
“I wish one was that little shit but yes. Interested. Where and when?”
“In the next week or so. Maybe we’ll be able to find Tag in the meantime. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ended.
He checked in with Henry, putting the call on speaker as he stretched.
“How are you?” Henry asked.
“Frustrated. I don’t like waiting for something to happen. I prefer to make it happen.”
Henry laughed.
“How’s the deconstruction of the USB going?” Delaney asked.
“Norbury’s been careful. His extracurricular activities would raise eyebrows but proving he
strayed into illegality is looking tricky. Sex clubs aren’t illegal. Though some well-known figures
ought to have had more sense. They’ve set themselves up for blackmail.”
“What about the hunts?”
“Obviously, they’re a different matter, but so far we’ve found nothing that mentions them. There’s
some hidden, encrypted stuff that’s being gone through, but I’m not holding my breath. Have you heard
from them?”
“Feely’s just told me they’re planning something. More than one target. He said in the next week
or so.”
“I hope you’re not one of the targets.”
“It had occurred to me. My background had better hold.”
“We’re still maintaining it. Adding little things here and there, non-existent deals you’re involved
with. A glimpse of you at a nightclub. We’ve tracked some googling by third parties but nothing
concerning. Are our precious items safe?”
Delaney knew he meant the diamonds but his mind went straight to Tag. “Yes.”
“What about letting Norbury get his hands on Tag?”
“No.”
“You could protect him. We’d have people in place quickly once we knew where it was all
happening.”
“No.”
“At least think about it. He’s with you, isn’t he?”
“No.”
“Right.” Henry laughed. “He knows too much for you to let him loose.”
“He’s no danger.”
“We’re being pressed by the Saudis. The PM wants to give them good news. Or at least some
news.”
“Did you get anywhere with the driver?”
“Denial, then a confession. Quicker than we’d expected. He’d used the Mercedes before the
Chason job. The envelope with the address was his mistake. He’d tipped off two guys about the gems.
The two who are no longer with us. He says no one else was involved. I’m not sure whether to
believe him. In any case, he’s been dealt with. And speaking of, I do need the diamonds back.”
“I’ll return them to Ahsan if I can.”
“His family say he took them without permission.”
“He has the certification, apparently.”
“Does he indeed? That’s interesting. Well, if Ahsan is dead, the diamonds will go to his family
anyway and not to his lover.”
“We have no evidence that he’s dead.”
“You want to ride in and save the day?”
“If he’s in Norbury’s place in Scotland, he could be extracted while those who are hunting are
rounded up. I can’t understand why you’ve not been able to find out what property Norbury owns up
there. Or are you waiting for this hunt to take place? You’re more interested in catching would-be
killers than rescuing a young Saudi prince from his abuser?”
“You know we want Ahsan to be found alive.”
“I’m not sure that’s what his brother wants. I’ll be in touch when they get back in contact with
me.”
Delaney ended the call and turned to see Tag standing in the doorway. He’d come in through the
back door.
“Shall I cook tonight?” Tag asked.
“How much did you hear?”
“Nothing. Why?”
If Tag wasn’t telling the truth, he was making a good job of looking as if he was. Delaney thought
back over what he’d said. It had been a mistake to be on speaker but what was done, was done.
 13
Tag had heard everything.
Delaney was still saying no to using him as bait and Tag felt relieved and guilty. He suspected that
Delaney wanted to use him but felt some sort of obligation not to. If Tag let things take their course,
Delaney was going to leave him here while he went up to Scotland and that worried him because they
might know Vadim wasn’t who he said he was.
On the other hand, if Tag went to demand his money from Norbury, he’d get taken to Scotland to
be part of the hunt and either Delaney would be hunted with him or Delaney would be able to save
him. Maybe. There wouldn’t need to be anyone else involved. Delaney would be pissed off and that
would be the last Tag would see of him, but that was the future anyway.
Maybe Tag could do some good and get bad people put away. Maybe he could save Ahsan and
give two people a happy ever after.
“Is pasta okay?” Tag asked.
“Sure.”
If things went wrong, Tag knew no one would really care about him dying. At least Delaney
would have put an end to Norbury and the Master and anyone else who wanted human trophies. Evil
fuckers. Tag wasn’t stupid. He knew he’d have trouble keeping out of the way of a bullet, but maybe a
bullet was what he deserved. And he could be all noble and stuff for the first time in his life. Well,
maybe the second time, but this time people would know. Maybe not people but Delaney would know
he was a good person. That was important.
Tag kept thinking of that prince being made to be a pet. Maybe having to crawl around with a tail
stuck in his arse, and eat his food out of a bowl and get beaten when he did things he wasn’t supposed
to, or just get beaten because his owner felt like it. That was fine if both were into it, but that wasn’t
the case. And maybe Tag wouldn’t even need to get chased by fuckers with guns. He’d find a way to
run before that happened. Or hide. Because Delaney would be coming.
He stirred the pasta into the boiling water, then took bowls from the cupboard. That would be the
end, of course. Delaney wouldn’t want him anymore, but he wasn’t going to want him anymore
anyway, was he? How could he be a…government agent and have Tag waiting at home, spending his
time making pots no one wanted. Delaney didn’t let himself get close to people because that made him
vulnerable. Delaney didn’t want to be put in the position where he’d be conflicted if Tag was
threatened. I get it. Even through my confused thinking, I do get it.
There could never be a relationship between them. It wouldn’t work. Delaney couldn’t ever have
a normal life. Nor could Tag. His past wouldn’t let him, it stuck to his heels like dog shit. The
horrible thing was that since he’d met Delaney, he’d started to hope. He knew Delaney had given him
no reason to. It’s all on me.
His head hurt. A bit of him wanted to destroy what little he had. Put an end to hope because it was
too fucking painful when that hope was destroyed.
“You’re too quiet,” Delaney said.
“I’m thinking about whether I should tell you why I got sent to a YOI.”
“And what did you decide?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Delaney came up behind him and pressed against him. “Tell me later what you decided, or tell me
why you were a bad boy?”
“Depends.” Tag squirmed round and wrapped his arms around Delaney’s neck.
 “On what?”
Tag almost said if you agree to my plan, but Delaney didn’t go for threats. “Not sure yet.”
If he told Delaney what he wanted to do, he’d say no. He’d said no to whoever was on the phone.
But it wasn’t up to him.
Tag let Delaney go and turned back to the pasta.
“Don’t even think about it,” Delaney said.
“What?”
“Letting Norbury find you.”
Shit! Tag turned and glared. “I wasn’t.”
“You’d be of no value up there. You’d be a distraction I can’t afford.”
Tag bristled. Fuck you!
“Think about it. It makes no sense for you to put yourself at risk. When I get the call, you stay here
and wait for me to come back.”
Tag didn’t even hope for the additional words that might have made him change his mind. Delaney
saying that he liked him, didn’t want him to get hurt, that he wanted to get to know Tag better. He
wouldn’t anyway once he found out why Tag had been put away.
He drained the pasta, divided it into large and small portions, and added pesto and parmesan.
Delaney put two glasses of water on the table and they sat down to eat.
Tag needed the subject changed. “What did you want to grow up to be when you were little?”
“A lot of things. Racing driver. Downhill skier. I wanted to win an Olympic medal. Invent
something amazing. Be a millionaire before I was thirty.”
Even Delaney’s dreams were bigger than Tag’s had ever been.
“What about you?”
“When I was really little, I wanted to be a postman.”
He braced himself for Delaney’s laugh but it didn’t come.
“I thought delivering letters was a brilliant job. I don’t think I thought about people getting bad
news. I didn’t know about things like bills and fines. I was just imagining birthday and Christmas
cards and letters saying you’d won some competition. And when I was older, before I discovered
clay, I wanted to have lots of fruit trees. Cherries and plums and apples. Probably because I liked
eating fruit and didn’t often get to eat it. Then I got sent away and all I wanted after that was to
survive.”
Tag twirled his fork in the bowl to get more pesto onto the pasta, then forked it into his mouth.
Pasta with pesto was his go-to meal. Fast and easy.
“How many boyfriends have you had?” Tag asked, conveniently ignoring the fact that he’d already
told himself a bloke like Delaney didn’t have boyfriends.
“I had a couple when I was a teenager.”
“What sort of things did you do?”
“Cinema. Bowling. McDonald’s. Parties.”
“Did you do a lot of kissing? Give each other hand jobs? Blow jobs?”
“Not at first, no. We were always edging around what each other wanted, neither of us willing to
make the first move.”
Tag laughed. “You didn’t make the first move?”
Delaney smiled back. “Mostly I did.”
“But no boyfriends now, right?”
“Thirty-seven-year-olds, in my sort of job, don’t have boyfriends.”
 Tag steeled himself not to react. He’d asked a question to which he already knew the answer.
Served him right that he was disappointed. No boyfriends, just hook-ups. Some lasting longer than
others.
“What about you?” Delaney asked.
That served him right too. Why start a conversation he didn’t want to continue?
“I had a boyfriend once, but it didn’t work out.”
“Why not?”
“He wanted an open relationship and I didn’t. Only he didn’t tell me that. He just let me find him
with his cock down the throat of another guy. In a pub toilet. And not even a nice pub. So you can
guess what the toilet was like.”
“How long had you been going out with him?”
“A month.”
Tag pushed to his feet, cleared the table and started to wash up. Delaney came to his side with a
tea towel.
“He never took me anywhere other than the pub or bed,” Tag whispered. “I don’t really like it
when people drink too much. He drank too much. But…he liked me. Well, I thought he liked me.
Obviously not enough.” Why did that still make his chest ache? He didn’t give a shit about Jorge
anymore.
“You okay?”
“Just having an issue with my left ventricle.”
Delaney raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“Emotional stress can make the left ventricle go into shock and it gives you heart attack-like
symptoms.” Tag had looked it up when he’d worried he was dying.
“So you miss him?”
“No. I miss being wanted.” Oh fuck, my chest. “Though I should be careful what I wish for. We
did a lot together before you even took me to a pub. I’ve been your pony. We’ve disposed of dead
bodies. Cleaned up blood. Gone for runs. Had a driving experience. Played hide-and-seek on a Welsh
hillside. You really know how to show a guy a good time.”
Delaney chuckled as he dried up. “You’ve only had one boyfriend?”
“I thought you’d missed that.”
“I don’t miss anything. Come and sit down.” Delaney took hold of his hand and pulled him over to
the couch and Tag was happy until Delaney let him go.
Tag brought his legs up and hugged them. “Were you happy when you were a kid?”
“I wasn’t unhappy. Lonely sometimes. It was just me and my dad, or nannies and babysitters, then
boarding school. I liked being with my dad when I had the chance. We explored places together.
Looked for ancient ruins in Greece. Sailed in Croatia. We had fun.”
“Is he dead?”
“Yes. He died when I was eighteen.”
“No mum?”
“She died when I was three.”
“I wish mine had.” Tag pressed his chin into his knees.
Delaney didn’t say anything.
“She was an alcoholic. Had kids by three different men. We had a lot of other dads that came and
went. A couple of them weren’t bad.”
“What happened?”
 Tag rubbed his face on his knees. “It’s hard for me to talk about. You’ll be the first person I’ve
told since I came out. I was told not to tell anyone. I didn’t talk about it after I was locked up, either.
They tried to make me and I wouldn’t. You’re supposed to talk to your personal officer to help you
come to terms with what you’ve done. That wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t that I was trying to
forget it. You don’t forget something like that, but I thought I could make it not part of my life if I
didn’t talk about it, if I pretended to be someone different.”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “It doesn’t work like that.”
Tag couldn’t look at Delaney. He took a deep breath. “I was put in the YOI for killing my sixteen-
month-old baby sister Louise.” He swallowed hard but that lump in his throat wasn’t going to shift. It
was always there, it just felt smaller some days than others.
“I was fourteen. My brother Owain was sixteen. Sallyanne was six. Mum and Graham were out.
Graham was Louise and Sallyanne’s father. My brother went out with his mates not long after Mum
and Graham left. It was just me, Sallyanne and Louise in the house. Louise was crying before they
went and she carried on after they’d gone. She went on and on. I picked her up and she still cried. I
changed her nappy, gave her a bottle and still she cried.”
Tag shuddered. He didn’t like thinking back. “I was trying to do my homework and I couldn’t
concentrate. I went to my mum’s room and sang to her in her cot. Her face was really red. I sat in my
room wondering if I dare leave Sallyanne with Louise while I went to the pub to find Mum. I’d
decided I should take them both with me.
“Then Louise stopped crying and my first thought was thank God for that. Only I… I just had this
feeling. I went back and Sallyanne was holding her tight against her chest. She wasn’t supposed to
pick her up out of her cot but somehow, she’d managed it. I took her from Sallyanne’s arms and
Sallyanne was smiling and saying she’s quiet for you now and I knew she’d done something…”
He gave a choked sob. “I put Louise on the carpet and gave her CPR. I breathed into her mouth
and pressed on her chest and I kept going and going. I didn’t have a phone to call for help, but I knew
it was too late. So I just sat on the floor with her in my arms and cuddled her and I was the one crying
then. Owain came back, and Sallyanne said I’d made Louise not wake up. Everything went wrong
from that point. The world just fell to pieces.”
Tag dropped his feet to the floor and leaned back on the couch. “Owain went to get mum from the
pub. Mum went crazy, screaming and crying, and when I told them what Sallyanne had done, Graham
hit me. Knocked me over and I cut my head on the door handle. I don’t know why Sallyanne said it,
but they believed a six-year-old over me. Graham hauled me into the kitchen and told me that he
wasn’t going to lose his other daughter as well, that I had to take responsibility because I was the one
in charge.”
Delaney sighed. Tag didn’t even glance at him.
“Later, I thought no one would have put a six year old in prison but then, I was too shocked to
think straight. I don’t know if deep down he believed me or Sallyanne. He just wanted it to be me and
everyone went along with it. Louise had been suffocated. Her arm had been broken. There were signs
of other injuries, older ones. Her ribs were broken—I did that trying to make her heart beat again. But
I didn’t do any of the rest.”
He could feel a muscle twitching in his cheek. “I told the truth to the police and to the solicitor
they appointed. Then I didn’t say anything else. There was no point. Everyone had decided I’d done
it. Sallyanne had said I used to hit her and Louise. I’d never hit anyone in that house. I was the one
who’d looked after Sallyanne and Louise when my mum and Graham were pissed out of their skulls.
No one spoke up for me. Not even Owain. That was hard. I couldn’t forgive him for that.
 “There was a trial because I wouldn’t plead guilty. I was criticised by everyone for making my
family go through that. The judge let my name be published but everyone knew it anyway. My
solicitor tried to persuade me I’d get a lesser sentence if I admitted what I’d done and showed
remorse. I knew I was going to be found guilty before the verdict was announced. Manslaughter, not
murder, but it made no difference.”
Delaney just sat watching and listening.
“No one ever came to see me. No one wrote to me. No birthday cards. No Christmas cards. No
one cared about me so I stopped caring about myself. I was made to learn how to pick pockets while I
was inside. Then when I was stronger, I learnt how to fight. No one touched me. Nothing touched me.
Until someone did and I ended up in hospital.
“It’s hard not to miss the life I should have had. No one was waiting when I got out. I hadn’t
expected anyone to be there, but it hurt. Sometimes I wished I’d never been born. The press hated me.
The British public hated me. The papers had headlines like Will child killer live next to you? Where
is he now? I changed the new name I’d been given as soon as I could afford to. They know where I
am though. Not the press. It’s against the law to look for me, but the police know.” He looked around.
“Well, they did know.”
Tag finally turned to look at him. “Then one day, I walked out of my self-pity party because I
could see it was going to wreck the life I had left. I was still young. I could make something of myself.
I changed that day, became a glass-half-full guy, made myself smile even when I didn’t want to,
hoping that one day I’d smile without thinking about it. It worked. I look for the positive in everything.
I want to live.
“So that’s my story. There’s a lot more crap in it and what happened is a stain on my heart that
will never go away, so letting go of it is still a work in progress. But I’m trying to make a new life for
myself. I just hope that Sallyanne killed Louise by accident and that she’s not an evil shit like my
mother.” He let out a shaky breath. “It’s okay if you don’t believe me. I don’t expect you to.”
Tag’s left ventricle was playing up again. Then he saw something in Delaney’s expression that
made him think… “Oh fuck. You already knew.” Of course he did. Tag hadn’t thought about that posh-
sounding blond who worked at the same place as Delaney knowing the name Rufus Connelly, the one
he’d been given when he went to the YOI.
Delaney nodded. “Yeah, I knew.”
“From before you even met me?” Tag choked out.
“No. Later. I believe you.”
Tag’s heart jumped.

Delaney did believe him. He’d listened to a lot of lies in his time and Tag hadn’t been lying. For
the first time in a long while, he felt rage on behalf of someone else, fury that no one had listened to a
fourteen-year-old boy. Then he did something else uncharacteristic and pulled Tag into his arms,
pressing his face against Tag’s head. A gesture of comfort, one that Tag should have had years ago. He
felt Tag sink into him, grasping his T-shirt. For several minutes, they just sat holding onto each other.
“I don’t ever want to talk about it again,” Tag muttered.
“Not talking doesn’t make it go away.”
“You’re throwing that back at me? Wanker.”
Tag pulled away to glare at him and wiped his eyes with his fingers. Delaney pretended he
couldn’t feel the dampness on his neck, or the rolling surge of heat in the pit of his stomach. Not the
right time.
“You don’t tell me anything,” Tag protested.
“I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told anyone.”
“Really?”
It was weird the way a smile could light up Tag’s face, let alone the way that smile bathed a room
in sunshine.
“I don’t talk a mile a minute like you.” Delaney pulled Tag close again, not really understanding
why he felt the need to hold or touch him like this when they weren’t fucking. He let his fingers drift
down Tag’s spine, slipped them under the bottom of his T-shirt and onto his skin to trace figures of
eight on his back, ignoring the lurching feeling in his stomach.
“Compared to you, my life has been easy. When my father died, he’d left money in trust and asked
a friend to look out for me. I went to university, then into the military and when I came out, I was
approached by the man who’s now my boss.”
“Not MI5.”
“Not exactly. I can’t tell you more than that.”
“Not even if I take my clothes off?” Tag whispered.
Delaney chuckled. “No.”
Though part of him disagreed. In any case, Tag had already stood up and was stripping. Delaney
grabbed a book from the coffee table and started to read it. Not read, just look at. Tag had an ulterior
motive. After telling him about what happened, he wanted to use Delaney to wipe it away. That
wasn’t going to work. Though Delaney found his gaze sliding to Tag and had to drag his eyes back to
his book.
Tag lay on his stomach, knees bent with his legs in the air, his face against Delaney’s thigh.
“What are you reading?”
Delaney had to look at the cover. “Gettysburg.”
“You had to check?” Tag put his mouth on Delaney’s leg and breathed on him. The flush of warm
air had the heat of steam.
“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?” Tag whispered. “Have you gone off me now because
of what I told you?”
“I already knew, remember? I know you didn’t do it, not even accidentally.”
Tag whimpered. “How can you know?”
“I just do.”
When Tag’s hand slid to the bulge in his trousers and gently squeezed, Delaney’s resistance
faltered. He pushed to his feet and pulled off his T-shirt.
“You are so beautiful,” Tag whispered. “Oh God, you are and you don’t even know it.” He came
up on his knees and unfastened Delaney’s trousers for him, sliding the zip down and slipping his hand
inside.
Delaney swallowed hard and peeled off his trousers and boxers at the same time.
“You are,” Tag said. “You’re like an anatomically perfect model. You can see all your muscles.”
Delaney huffed. “That would be a bit gross.” He reached out, took hold of Tag’s hand and hauled
him off the couch. “Bedroom.”
But Tag hadn’t got all the way up the stairs before Delaney put his hands on his hips and pulled
him down.
Tag laughed. “This isn’t the bedroom.”
Looking at Tag’s arse made his mouth water. Delaney leaned over him, his knees on the stairs
either side of Tag’s and trailed his tongue down his spine. Tag quivered and arched back into him,
rubbing his backside against Delaney’s cock. Then Delaney scraped his chin from Tag’s neck to the
seam of his arse. Tag’s loud groan tightened Delaney’s balls.
“Up. Now,” Delaney croaked.
Tag hauled himself up and went into the bedroom. By the time Delaney joined him, Tag was lying
face down on the bed, lube and condom at his side. Delaney’s fingers shook as he put on the condom.
He ended up having to take the damn thing off when it got twisted.
“Desperate for me?” Tag turned to look at him.
Yes, Delaney was desperate.
Desperate to hold him, desperate to feel Tag’s body under his. He rolled Tag over and lay half on
top of him, brushing his lips over Tag’s cheeks, wondering if Tag could feel the way his breath was
catching. Delaney was desperate to look at him, kiss him, fuck him. And the crazy thing was that he
wanted to tell him.
Delaney didn’t say a word. He lubed his fingers, spread Tag’s legs with his knees and lay
between his thighs, pushing a finger into his body while Tag moaned and gasped, then two fingers, and
every muscle in Delaney’s body wound tighter. Three fingers made Tag cry out and for one mind-
blowing moment, Delaney wanted his entire hand in there. God, no.
He pushed and rocked and pressed his cock against the entrance to Tag’s body, drawing all the
noises Tag was making into his own. Then Tag’s muscles gave way and Delaney slid inside, pleasure
flooding his veins as his cock was enveloped in tight heat. The urge to ram himself home grew in his
head, but he waited, giving Tag time to adjust, giving himself time to breathe.
“Still want me then?” Tag whispered.
“I don’t see anyone else around.”
“Fuck me hard.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have a gun.”
Tag laughed. “Not in your hand.”
As though Tag’s words were linked directly to his cock, Delaney pushed in, then pulled back and
thrust in even harder, burying himself so deep in Tag’s arse that Tag arched, clenched his fists and
cried out. Delaney dropped his mouth to Tag’s and kissed him. The kiss went on and on and Delaney
felt as if something was bursting open inside him.
“Let me turn over,” Tag blurted.
Delaney turned him, pushed up his legs and thrust back in, unable to stop moving now, caught up
in the rhythm of the dance, pleasure building like a stack of children’s bricks. He wanted to make the
tower as high as he could before it came crashing down. His body was aligned to Tag’s, his arms
spread along his, his toes rubbing Tag’s feet, his mouth on Tag’s neck while his hips rolled, and he
drove his dick into that slick, tight heat time after perfect time.
The blinds were up, the light was still good and Delaney thought how he wasn’t used to fucking
in the daylight where he could see everything. And how he was not used to fucking slender guys of
this age, with chocolate eyes and sweet smiles and addictive kisses.
Tag cried out as he came and it triggered Delaney’s own release, the pile of bricks tumbling.
He’d never had so much sex before in his life. He wondered why not.

Their lives slid into a sort of comfortable routine. Running first thing in the morning. A game of
hide-and-seek in the afternoon. They took it in turns to find each other. Tag could learn from how
Delaney hid. He had no intention of letting Tag get taken to Scotland but the uneasy feeling in his gut
kept telling him just in case and he couldn’t ignore that warning because stopping Tag getting taken to
Scotland might not be in his control. At least in teaching Tag ways to survive, he was giving him a
chance.
The sex didn’t stop. He couldn’t get enough of Tag. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds Tag
made when he came, the smile on his face that happened more and more, the way he laughed at
something Delaney said or did, the way Delaney’s face was becoming one he hardly recognised. A
man who could be happy.

When they were running out of fresh food, Delaney decided to take a trip to the supermarket.
Alone. Better that Tag wasn’t seen at all.
“If I can’t come, can I give you a list?” Tag asked.
“Okay.”
The list had already been written and Tag held it out.
Delaney read it. “Crunchies, Wispas, Flakes, cheese and onion crisps, Monster Munch, Dime
bars, ice lollies, fudge, candy sticks, Aeros, Rolos and easy peel oranges. How old are you?” He
laughed.
“I didn’t like the way you laughed. I can pay you for them.”
“With my money?”
“I’ll pay you back. I didn’t put everything I wanted on there. I haven’t even used the other stuff
that I bought.”
“Candles and matches?”
“You looked?”
“I’m nosey. What are candy sticks?”
“Those things that used to be called sweet cigarettes and had a red end. I like sucking them. I
like sucking Crunchies and the rest too. Everything except the crisps and the oranges. I crunch those.”
Tag beamed at him.
Delaney had the feeling he was going to be driving all over town looking for the damn things. He
put the list in his pocket.
“Don’t leave the house. Don’t open the door. Hide if you hear the buzzer go off. But no one’s
going to come.”
“I’ll get bored. Why can’t I come? Promise you’re not off to Scotland and not telling me?”
“I’ll be back in less than ninety minutes unless I have problems finding things for you to suck.”
“I can always make do with you.”
Tag licked his lips and Delaney left with a smile on his face.
 14
About twenty minutes after Delaney had left, Tag heard the buzzer. Back so soon? Maybe not. He
ran up the stairs, peeped out at the edge of the blind, and saw a big silver car heading up to the house.
Shir! Tag’s heart thumped. The doors were locked, so were the windows. He called Delaney.
“Let me guess. You want to add another chocolate bar to the list?”
“Del! There’s a car coming. Silver one. FHG 35T. Three maybe four men.”
There was a bang on the door downstairs and it made him jump.
“They’re at the door.”
“I’m on my way. Put the phone somewhere, leave it on.”
When Tag heard a loud bang that was a lot more than a fist on the door, his heart leapt into his
mouth. He wished he’d run up into the hills when he heard the buzzer but it was too late now. He put
the phone on the windowsill, mostly hidden by the curtains and stood a little way away from it. He
could hear them in the house, then a moment later, someone coming up the stairs. His knees shook.
The bedroom door was kicked open, a man walked in holding a gun and Tag let out a faint
squeak. The guy was in his thirties, well-built, tall and wearing dark clothes. Tag had never seen him
before.
“Listen carefully. Do exactly as I tell you and you won’t be hurt.”
Thoughts of resisting raced through Tag’s head but what could he do against a gun and more than
one guy?
“Who are you? What do you want? I don’t have any money.” He wasn’t going to think about the
million-dollar sculptures, though it sounded as if someone was searching for something downstairs.
“What are you looking for?” Tag asked.
“Pack a bag.”
Tag needed to stall, though he knew the chances of Delaney getting here in time were zero.
“Why?”
“Because I’m telling you to.”
Tag grabbed his backpack and put a few things into it. He wasn’t really thinking about what he
was doing, more of ways to get this guy to reveal who he was working for.
“Where are we going? Do I need a toothbrush?”
The guy laughed at that.
As Tag put his running shoes on, another man came into the bedroom and started to go through the
drawers.
“What are you looking for?” Tag asked. “Maybe I can help.”
“Diamonds.”
Tag laughed and tried to look as astonished as he could. “Diamonds?” He hoped Delaney heard
that. “I think you have the wrong house. There are no diamonds here.”
“Downstairs. Now.”
Tag was grabbed by the shoulder and pulled out of the room. He stumbled on the stairs and
would have fallen if the guy hadn’t still been holding him. There was another man in the main room,
pulling books from shelves, checking each one. Tag had already seen the animals hadn’t been touched.
Don’t look at them again!
There was a clattering noise as someone ran down the stairs. “Let’s get out of here. There was a
phone on the windowsill that was transmitting.”
Tag had thought about making a break for it when they got outside but the grip on his shoulder
tightened and he was pushed into the back of the car. The guy who’d been holding him climbed in
after. Tag tried the handle but the door didn’t open.
“Put your seat belt on,” the man snapped.
Tag did as he was told. He sat quietly, trying to work out who these guys were. Maybe it wasn’t
complicated. They knew about the diamonds, so they didn’t work for Norbury, unless he’d somehow
found out about them. But why take him away from Delaney if they were on the same side?
Because they’re not on the same side. Maybe they were pretending they were but had their own
agenda. One that involved letting Tag be found by Norbury’s guys and taken up to Scotland.
When he registered that they were on their way to London, Tag thought he was right. Delaney
probably wouldn’t come after him. He’d be too late to follow. The next move in the game was up to
Norbury. But if he didn’t call Delaney and invite him to Scotland, Tag was probably fucked.

Delaney raced back but he knew Tag would have gone. He left the car out of sight half a mile
away and approached the house via a couple of fields. There was no sign of a vehicle outside, but in
case whoever had come wanted him dead, he checked everything before he went into the house, then
still looked for traps, cameras, recording devices.
The place was a mess but all the clay ornaments were still there. He hurried upstairs and found
Tag’s phone on the bed. There was no blood, no evidence of a struggle, though all the drawers had
been emptied and the mattress half-pulled off the bed. He had to fight to control his temper.
The only clues he’d had as to who had taken Tag was the number plate, and comment about the
diamonds. He got nowhere with the former but mention of the diamonds was enough. Unless Norbury
had been told about Delaney’s role in stealing them, it didn’t make sense that it was him. If it had
been, there’d have been someone here to torture him or Tag until he told them where the diamonds
were. So it was his own fucking side. Barker fucking him up with or without Henry’s knowledge.
There was little point chasing after the car. He wouldn’t catch it. Even if he did, what the fuck
could he do without endangering Tag? He went outside to phone Henry.
“Delaney. How are things?” Henry asked.
“How do you think they are?” Delaney didn’t keep the snap out of his voice.
“Ah.”
One short word that told him everything. Henry was in on it. Delaney wasn’t sure he could trust
himself to speak without yelling.
“The plan is sound,” Henry said.
“So was mine.”
“You hadn’t given me a plan.”
“There was no need to involve Tag.”
“It makes your involvement more authentic.”
Delaney ground his teeth. “I’d already agreed to go even if they couldn’t find Tag. Do not deliver
him to Norbury.”
“We wouldn’t be so obvious. He’ll be asking Norbury for his money.”
And he’ll probably kill him. “Whose idea was this?”
The slight hesitation told Delaney what he needed to know.
“We’re sending a team up to Edinburgh so they’re at least in the vicinity,” Henry said.
“Have you forgotten that you had a tracker put in Tag’s shoe? What if they’ve found it? Fuck you,
Henry, and fuck Barker.” Delaney ended the call and almost threw his phone across the yard. This
was what happened when he let his guard down and allowed himself to get involved.
 When he’d calmed down, he went back inside and put his house back together. It was a good way
to double check if they’d left anything behind. He’d thought this place was unknown. It wasn’t a
comfortable feeling knowing that one by one his safe houses were becoming unsafe. This would have
to be sold too and he liked it here.
He kept his phones with him as he cleaned up. They hadn’t found his guns, which were hidden in
the garage along with the money and the other items he’d dug up. Now Delaney went to put some of
those things back underground. He was unsure about every single one of the identities he’d purchased.
Nothing felt safe.
If Delaney didn’t have Tag to rescue, he’d have walked away from all of it. He had cash and
enough money in the Swiss banking system to never have to work again. But the trouble with being
someone who’d killed for a living was that retirement wasn’t an option. He’d tried to give it up once
and been persuaded to stay on and do other work. Delaney had been under the misapprehension that
after doing that different sort of work for a while, he’d be able to bow out. They were never going to
fucking let him go.
Tag would stand little chance of running away from hunters with rifles. He’d stand a better chance
if Delaney could get a backpack to him with a knife, emergency blanket, compass, map, water and
food. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to have those things if he was hunting, so maybe he could find a
place to leave them for Tag.
But when he didn’t know where this hunt was going to take place, or when, or if either of them
would be part of it, there was nothing he could do but wait for a call. Not here though. He’d drive
back to London. He wrapped up the clay models and took them with him.

The three men took Tag back to London without stopping. He’d come up with plans to persuade
them to let him go to the bathroom, then make a run for it at a service station, but requests for
everything were ignored. And Smiler, as Tag had named the one sitting next to him, had made sure Tag
had seen his gun. Tag felt as though all the energy had been sucked out of him. He pressed his head
against the window and stayed quiet. It was hard to be optimistic, hard to believe Delaney would
care.
The car finally pulled up outside a multi-storey hotel in Woking.
“Behave or else,” Smiler said.
He took Tag up to a room on the sixth floor. Two men were already in there: Posh Git and Bruiser.
Great, so it was Delaney’s lot again. Smiler stood with his back to the door, though Tag had given up
hopes of running away.
His backpack was taken and emptied out onto the bed. Everything was carefully searched and
most of his money—Delaney’s money—taken from his wallet before it was handed back to him.
There was just four pounds in coins inside.
“Do you know why you’re here?” asked Posh Git who was sitting on the room’s only chair.
“You all want to fuck me? Or rather fuck me over again?”
“I’m the only one who might be interested in the former, but Christ knows where you’ve been. Oh
wait, I do know where you’ve been. I have no interest in Delaney’s sloppy seconds. My name is
Anthony Barker, Mr Connelly, or should I use your birth name? Richard Jones, the little shit who
battered your baby sister, then suffocated her.”
“I didn’t,” Tag said quietly.
“Does any child killer admit to it? Did Delaney believe you? I can’t think that he did. He’s not
that stupid. You must be good in bed. He likes dirty little whores. Who knew?”
Tag kept his face expressionless. Nothing you say will get to me. Tag had been through such
heartache, he wouldn’t let these words hurt him.
Barker smiled. “You know what we want you to do.”
Probably, but Tag didn’t speak.
“You’re going to fall into Norbury’s clutches and let yourself be taken to Scotland where guys
who’ve paid for the privilege will hunt you. Delaney will be there and he might save you or he might
not, depending on whether you’ve managed to crack open his cold, black heart.”
Why did he hate Delaney so much? They were supposed to be colleagues. The guy had implied he
was gay. Had Delaney turned him down? His ego was that big? Tag didn’t think it could be that.
“I’m here to offer you a deal.”
Cue eye roll. “Why should I trust you? I never got the three thousand I was promised last time.”
“Your own fault. You ran and left no forwarding address. This time the offer is more generous.
Twenty thousand pounds to go along with what we want you to do. Once Norbury has his hands on
you, we don’t want you to try and escape until the hunt is underway.”
“Let people shoot at me? I’m not going to survive to spend it.”
“In those circumstances, it would be shared between Sallyanne and Owain. They could both do
with the money.”
Tag stiffened on hearing the names of his sister and brother. “Why would I want them to get any
money from me? Sallyanne’s lies led to me being locked up for eight years. Owain said nothing in my
defence. He knew I’d never hurt Louise. He knew who did hurt her.”
“Your brother’s been looking for you since your release, asking about you. He couldn’t be told
where you were staying, but he’s been quite insistent.”
Fuck him. Fuck all of them. It was too late. If by some fluke it was to say sorry, then it was still
too late. Anyway, Tag wasn’t sure he believed him. Barker or Owain.
“Forty thousand pounds to go to a cancer research charity for kids and I’ll do whatever you like. I
want the offer in writing and witnessed by all of you and I want to see proof of the donation.”
Barker huffed. “Thirty thousand.”
Tag was reassured that he hadn’t just agreed to the first figure because that would have told him
the money would never be paid. “Okay.”
Barker nodded to Smiler. “Put something together and print it in the hotel’s business centre.”
Barker took the tiniest mobile Tag had ever seen out of his pocket along with a condom and put it
on the desk. “This goes in your arse. One number on it. I need texts as often as you can send them.
Names, places, anything that might be useful. We want a team in place in the right area before Delaney
is taken up there. I don’t need to tell you to be careful, do I? If they find this, they’ll kill you.”
“Sooner rather than later, eh?”
The fucker smirked. “Give the phone to Delaney if he’s had his taken from him. And don’t fuck it
up. You can do this. Your…acting skills at the pony event, if it was all acting, were impressive. The
photos were…interesting.”
Tag couldn’t help swallowing. Photos? And this lot had them? Fucking hell.
“You get on the train to Harborne, and walk to the house from the station. Ask to speak to
Norbury. If he’s not there, say you’ll wait. They probably won’t let you in, but just stay by the gate.
Eventually, you’ll get to see him. Tell him you want your money, your phone and clothes. Make up
what you like about how you got away and why, but you can tell them you lost your job, had to leave
your accommodation and after a few nights in a hostel, you’ve been sleeping rough and got beaten
up.”
Oh fuck. They’re going to beat me up? His stomach clenched.
“You’re desperate. You need that money and your phone. Ask him if you can be in another pony
event. Promise not to run this time. Once he has you hooked, you’ll be in the hunt.”
Tag wanted to wipe that smug look off Barker’s face. “Who came up with that crap? Some
overpaid penpusher?”
The man’s already thin lips tightened into a narrow line.
“Norbury’s been looking for me and I suddenly turn up on his doorstep? Really? He’s not going to
smell a rat? I would.”
“What do you suggest then?”
“Let someone who works for him find me on the street. I could be sleeping rough. You must know
where these guys hang out. I mean, I bet Norbury doesn’t live at Harborne House and Feely found me
in London. I could be begging somewhere near his home. Let him stumble across me.”
“That has merit,” said Bruiser. “We can watch. Harder to keep an eye on him once he’s walking to
Harborne House.”
Tag half-zoned out as they were talking about where and when. If this set-up was going to work, it
didn’t ought to look too easy. And him walking into the lion’s den was too easy.
“One more thing,” Tag said. “I’m not putting that phone up my arse.”
“Then I’ll do it for you.” Barker smiled.
“You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t’ you? And when it gets stuck or lost inside me? What then? I’m not
doing it. I know it’s to help Delaney but it’s too risky. You think one of them isn’t going to fuck me
when I’m in their hands? No phone.”
No one was going to be fucking him without a fight but the idea of a phone up his arse filled him
with horror. He’d known of a couple of guys in prison who’d ended up in the hospital.
Smiler came back with the contract and after Tag had read it, he signed it and the others did too.
“Now make the donation,” Tag said. “And tick the Gift Aid box since it’s in my name.”
“Cheeky little…” But Barker gave Smiler the order and in minutes the money was sent.
Tag sighed. There was no pulling out now. At least he wasn’t going to do this entirely for nothing.

Later that night, they woke him and took him into London.
“Do try not to get arrested,” Barker said. “That would fuck everything up. This is the plan: Feely
comes out of London Bridge station and gets a coffee every morning from The Colombian Coffee
Company, then drinks it as he crosses the bridge on the way to work.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s a lawyer.”
Tag’s jaw dropped.
Barker smiled. “Happily married with four kids. Well, maybe not happily married.”
Shit!
“He always crosses at seven thirty. You need to be coming the other way. When you see him, start
asking people for money. Make sure he sees you.”
“Why wouldn’t I run the other way?”
“Pretend to be shocked. Then ask him for what you’re owed.”
“Coming up on London Bridge,” the driver said.
Barker looked out of the window. “Find somewhere quiet.”
Tag gave a shaky exhale. It was game on.
 When the car pulled up, Barker and Bruiser got out. Tag stepped onto the curb. The attack came
fast and the first punch threw him against the wall. They used hands and fists, but he could tell they
were holding back on doing any real damage. Even so, it still hurt and his cheek was bleeding. Tag
wasn’t just going to stand there and take it. He landed a fist in Barker’s stomach and as a reward, was
thumped even harder. Tag was on the ground by the time Bruiser pulled Barker off.
“Do not fuck this up,” Barker snarled.
Bruiser threw his backpack and a bottle of water at him, then the car pulled away. Tag couldn’t
move for a while and just lay there groaning. Finally, he crawled into a doorway and curled up
around his backpack and the water. He didn’t like the idea of walking into Feely. What if the guy
didn’t see him? Tag had a better idea, assuming he could walk tomorrow.

Sleeping didn’t really happen. He’d pulled on a hoody so he wasn’t cold, but he was
uncomfortable. As soon it was light, he made his way to the station. It was five in the morning. There
were a few people around but Tag didn’t make eye contact. He kept his head down as he descended
the stairs to the lower concourse and went into the toilets. He grimaced when he looked in the mirror.
Fucking Barker! Tag washed his face until there was no trace of blood, then cleaned his teeth. He felt
better but he didn’t look much better. His cheek was grazed and there were bruises on his chin and
under his eye.
He pulled his fingers through his hair and made himself smile. I can do this. He probably couldn’t
but he was going to try. One thing he could do, but it would mean using one of his precious pounds,
was call Delaney. He had the number memorised. Tag didn’t want him to do anything, he just wanted
to hear his voice.
He checked his bag and his clothes to make sure they hadn’t put a tracker on him, then headed for
the payphones.
Delaney answered on the first ring. “Yes.”
“It’s me. Call me back on this number if I run out of money.” Tag rattled it off.
“Are you okay?” Delaney asked. “Not inclined to shorten my name?”
Tag managed a chuckle. “I bet you didn’t buy that chocolate.”
“I thought getting back to you was more important. Where are you?”
“London Bridge station. They want me to bump into Feely on his way to work.”
“Think they’re watching you?”
Tag hadn’t thought of that. It explained the lack of a tracker: too risky.
“I would be,” Delaney said.
“Barker is a wanker.”
“What did he do?”
“Hit me.”
Delaney hissed.
“They wanted me to look a mess, as if I’d been sleeping rough, but Barker hit harder than he
needed to. I signed a contract. They offered me thirty thousand to do this and I made them make the
payment to a children’s cancer research charity. Just so you know.”
“I’m not going to let you get hurt.”
“I know you’ll try, but you’re not to get hurt either. I…” Tag changed his mind about what he was
going to say. “I’m going to go. Don’t call me back. I’ll see you soon. You’ve tried to make it hard to
like you, but I do. You’re not a hopeless case. Okay?”
He ended the call before Delaney answered, and made his way back up into the station. Once he’d
found The Colombian Coffee Company, he walked away and found a place to wait where he could
see people coming out of the station.
If Feely was early, then he had to be ready. But when it got to seven fifteen, Tag made his way
back to the coffee shop and started to ask those who were going inside if they’d please buy him a
drink. As he’d expected, he was mostly ignored. He had his back to the direction Feely would be
coming from and he wished he could control his heart, which was beating so hard it felt like everyone
around him should be able to hear it.
“Please would you buy me a coffee?” Tag asked a young guy in a suit.
“What would you like?”
“Just black, thank you.”
Tag was amazed someone had agreed. That had fucked up his plan. Now what was he going to do,
just stand and drink it and look shocked when he saw Feely? The guy came out with two cups and
handed one to him.
“Thank you very much,” Tag said.
The guy nodded and walked off.
“Please would you buy me a pastry?” Tag asked the woman who came next.
She ignored him, as did the next three people.
Tag found a place to sit on the ground just to the side of the coffee shop and drank the coffee. Once
it had all gone, he put it in front of him. He didn’t have anything to make a sign but he looked as if he
was begging. He kept his head down. Either Feely would see him or he wouldn’t. Maybe he hadn’t
even caught the train that day. What he didn’t need was someone telling him to move on, so he sat and
hoped.
When a fifty pence piece was dropped in the cup, Tag looked up to say thanks and found himself
freaked out at the sight of Feely, even though he was expecting to see him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Feely asked.
Tag scrambled to his feet. “You! Shit! Get the fuck away from me or I’ll scream.” He looked
around as if he was deciding whether or not to run.
Feely backed him up to the wall.
“I’ll yell for help,” Tag blurted.
Feely laughed. “I’m not doing anything. Why are you begging?”
“Thanks to your lot, I don’t have any money.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“Yeah, well I didn’t sign up for—”
“Shut up. Come with me and I’ll buy you breakfast.”
“Just give me the money you owe me and I can buy my own breakfast.” Tag held out his hand.
“We’ll talk about it over breakfast. Yes or no?”
Tag pretended to think about it, then picked up the fifty pence and his backpack, and went with
him.
“You look like you want to bolt,” Feely said.
“Do you blame me?”
Feely chuckled and led him to a café on the edge of Borough Market.
“What would you like?” Feely asked.
“Black coffee and a pastry. Poached eggs on toast if they have it.”
When the waitress had taken the order, Feely made a call. “Morning, Shona. I won’t be in today.
Rearrange all my appointments… No, I’m fine. Something’s come up.” He hung up and stared at Tag.
“What happened to your face?”
“I got beaten up because I was sleeping in someone else’s spot.”
“You’re sleeping rough?”
“Don’t sound so fucking incredulous. I lost my job because of you. I lost my place to live. That
was your fault too. I had to buy another phone—I wonder why—and that got nicked. I’ve had nothing
but bad luck since you sat at one of my tables. You owe me a thousand pounds.”
“Is that going to make it right?”
Tag glared. “It’ll help.”
“I offered you two thousand on the phone. Still interested?”
“No.” But Tag made sure he hesitated and that no sounded like yes.
Feely laughed and made another call. “Guess who I’m having breakfast with… Our missing
pony… Purely by chance.” He looked across at Tag. “I’ve taken the day off… No, he’s sleeping
rough.”
The coffees arrived and Tag smiled his thanks at the waitress.
“The question is—what to do in the meantime?” Feely said into the phone.
Tag put two sugars in his coffee. He didn’t usually take sugar, but he needed the energy boost. He
also needed to remind himself not to start talking too much.
“That’s an option,” Feely said. “Okay. Let’s do that.”
He ended the call just as the food arrived. Tag was starving. He ate his eggs fast but he couldn’t
help it. Feely was only halfway through his food when Tag pushed his empty plate away. The
croissant had been delicious too.
“Hungry?”
“You noticed?”
“Want something else?” Feely asked.
Tag shook his head. “No thanks. I don’t want my stomach to get used to being full.” But he made
sure he sipped his coffee slowly so he had a reason to stay where he was. Of course, now he felt sick.
Probably nerves, but…
“How would you like a job?” Feely asked.
“Am I not going to get paid for this one either?”
“You didn’t stay to the end. We had some disappointed people. Why did you really run?”
Tag glanced around as if he was checking no one was listening. For all he knew, Barker had
someone in here. “I already told you. I hadn’t planned to, but fucking a single bloke was one thing,
having to go with a whole lot of them… Not what I wanted. I came up with hide-and-seek to give me
chance but I figured you’d find me. A bit earlier, you’d offered me money if I ran. Not my fault you
couldn’t find me.”
“You didn’t go to York?”
Tag gave a short laugh. “You fell for that? Yeah, well when I managed to get away, I knew you’d
be pissed off so I laid a trail in case you lot came looking for me. I don’t have family in York. I like
living in London, but I should have gone somewhere else. Miscalculation.”
“It was smart.”
“Not smart enough since you found me.” Tag pushed to his feet. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“Sit down.” Feely grabbed his wrist. “Don’t make a scene.”
Tag hesitated, then sat.
“You’re not going to get paid the full thousand for that night because you left, but I’ll pay you
something. The job I’m thinking of is working in the garden at Harborne House. You’ll get room and
board.”
“I don’t know anything about gardens.”
“You can learn.”
Tag swallowed. “No more pony club?”
“Not if you don’t want to. Though you could be a trainer.”
Tag shook his head. “Nah, this is a trick. You don’t like me. Why would you want me to work for
you?”
“You’re an annoying little shit, but you have pluck. I can make use of you.”
“How much are you going to pay me?”
“Ten pounds an hour. Cash.”
Tag chewed his lip, then shook his head. “No.” He couldn’t make this look too easy.
“Well how about this then? I tell the police that you stole money from Harborne House and ran
without your things when we discovered what was happening. We have your phone, your wallet…
Perhaps you stole from me?”
“Carrot then a stick? Couldn’t you have sweetened the carrot?”
Feely laughed. “I do like you. Fine. Fifteen pounds an hour.”
“And no pony play?”
“No pony play.”
Tag felt he’d made this look as realistic as he could. “Okay.”
 15
Delaney was in his London flat when the call came from Norbury.
“Da,” Delaney said.
“Vadim. How are you?”
“Good. And you?”
“Fine, thank you, and I have news for you. Our missing pony has been found.”
Delaney made some sort of noise that he hoped sounded like surprise and pleasure. “Well done.”
“How are you fixed for a trip to Scotland? You’d go up with a few others by private jet from City
Airport on Monday morning, at ten. Prius Airways.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll need half of the money in advance.”
“Same as before?”
“Yes.”
“I see to it.” He hoped Concorde House got all this money back.
“Look forward to seeing you.”
“It will be interesting.” Delaney forced out a chuckle.
The moment the call ended, he contacted Henry.
“You’ve heard from them?” Barker’s voice instantly irritated Delaney.
“I don’t want to talk to you. Put Henry on.”
“Fuck you. Talk to me.”
Delaney was about to hang up when he heard Henry say, “This isn’t the time or place. Give me the
phone.”
That was the second time Barker had answered Henry’s phone. Delaney wondered why.
“Report?” Henry asked.
“It’s on. Private jet from City Airport on Monday. Prius Airways. I’ll be going up with others.
You should be able to access the flight plan. Norbury wants half the money in advance, same as
before. And paying now.”
“Understood. What did he tell you about Tag?”
“Just that he’d been found. If they return his belongings to him, you might be able to follow the
tracker in his shoe.”
“Good point,” Henry said. “The sooner we know exactly where you’re going the better.”
“I might lose my phone.”
“Then you should object. Say it’s a business deal you need to keep on top of,” Barker interjected.
“I hadn’t thought of that. Thank you so much for your invaluable advice,” Delaney said.
He heard Barker swear and Henry telling him to butt out.
“Taking your phone seems a bit extreme,” Henry pointed out. “Though Anthony has a point. We
planted news of a deal you’re involved in.”
“It’s the taking of photos they’ll want to control.”
Henry groaned. “That’s true but for that sort of money, people are going to want pictures. Sick
bastards. If you need anything, let us know. I’ll go ahead and get the money transferred.”
“Take care of it yourself. I can’t afford one of Barker’s fuck-ups.” He was done with playing nice.
Delaney had to be careful what he took with him. It was safer to assume his belongings would be
searched, but no one would be allowed to touch his rifle and if he reduced the depth of the packing
foam, he could hide several items underneath.
 If Tag hadn’t known what had happened in Harborne House, he might have actually thought he’d
landed on his feet. Well, apart from having to share a room with Cream. Kareem was not happy but
after his initial fiery objection, he’d calmed down and he and Tag managed to get along. Probably
because Kareem had been told there’d be an end date not too far away and because Tag behaved
himself. He knew Kareem was looking for a reason to complain about him, so he didn’t give him one.
Tag had been reunited with his clothes, jacket, shoes and wallet, but not his phone. He was told it
had been mislaid and he knew there was no point making an issue of it. Though he did wonder if the
tracker in the shoe was still working. He couldn’t see where they’d inserted it, but he found it
reassuring to think at least someone knew where he was.
Norbury didn’t come to the house for two days. One of the kitchen staff had told Tag that Norbury
was in Scotland preparing for the grouse season. Even if Tag had dared to ask where in Scotland, he
had no means of contacting Delaney. Well, maybe he could find a way, but picking a pocket would be
risky.
Tag was busy trimming a hedge into the shape of a cock and balls when he spotted him
approaching. Well, the hedge didn’t look much like that yet, but it would. Tag was wearing grey cargo
shorts and a green polo shirt with the Harborne House logo. He’d been shocked that the job had
actually materialised. As far as he could see, no one was even keeping an eye on him, but maybe he
was wrong. Maybe they were watching his every move.
He put down the electric trimmer when Norbury came up.
“Well, well, well. The wanderer returns. You must really like it here.” Norbury smirked.
“It’s a job, and because of you lot, I needed one.” Keep it simple. Do not blow this.
“George says you’re a hard worker,” Norbury said. “It seems you’re a man of many talents, Mr
Blake.”
George Stubbs was the head gardener. Tag liked him and George liked Tag. Tag hadn’t put a foot
wrong or said anything inappropriate, though he had managed to make George laugh when he’d
majorly freaked out at seeing a slow worm. Tag didn’t like ordinary worms, let alone legless lizards.
“I’ve found I like gardening. Brings out my creative side. Though I did pull out a few plants that I
thought were weeds and had to replant them. Now I ask first.” I’m being a good boy. Gardening had
helped soothe his nerves when he knew a storm was approaching.
“What was the man who bought you like?” Norbury asked.
“The Russian? Didn’t talk much. Had a big cock.”
Norbury laughed. “Other than that?”
“Why?”
“I just wondered.”
Really? “He was okay. Likes a bit of pain. I thought he was into me, but he sold me on to others
and I didn’t like the idea of that. I’m…not very experienced. It got too much and I ran.”
“Not very experienced?”
The look of disbelief on Norbury’s face irritated Tag.
“I don’t sleep around. I’m not a rent boy. I’ve only ever had one boyfriend.”
“I haven’t been able to find out very much about you. Tag Blake doesn’t seem to exist further back
than a couple of years.”
“I changed my name.”
“Why did you do that?”
 “Because I wanted a new start.”
“And did you get one?”
“I was hampered by a lack of skills and no money. Am I going to get any of what the Master said
he’d give me? He told me I could have some of it.”
“How would you like to earn twenty thousand pounds for a week’s work?”
Tag’s heart thumped. “Since I’ve not been paid what I was owed from before, how do I know I’ll
get paid this time?”
“I promise you will.”
Tag tried not to show what he was thinking. You won’t need to pay me if I’m dead. “Doing what?
More…” He glanced around to see if anyone was listening. “More sex? It can’t be just pony play or
you wouldn’t offer so much.”
“You’d come up to my house in Scotland and be chosen by one of my guests to be his companion
for a few days.”
“Companion?”
“Do what he wants. Wear what he wants. Share his bed. Swim in the pool.”
“Just one guy?”
Norbury nodded.
Tag pretended to think about it. Then took a risk. “The Russian?”
“If it was, would you say yes?”
Tag sighed. “As long as he doesn’t share me.” Then he put a worried look on his face. “He’s
probably pissed off that I ran away. I might have picked his pocket only there’s no point him asking
for the money back because I got robbed.”
“Maybe he’d enjoy fucking the hell out of you as a punishment.”
Tag’s mouth twitched.
“I thought you might like the sound of that.”
“Only him, right?”
Norbury nodded.
“Okay then. But this time put the money in my bank account.”
“I’ll give it to you in cash the moment we land.”
“Land?”
“We’ll go up by helicopter.”
Tag frowned. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
Norbury laughed.

A few days later, Tag, Kareem and Norbury were in a helicopter heading north. Tag was wearing
his military jacket and he hoped he got the chance to wear it again. Despite what he was heading into,
he was entranced by the flight. The view was amazing. He’d never been on a plane before, let alone a
helicopter. Kareem sat next to him, playing games on his phone, and didn’t even look out of the
window. Norbury sat facing them, working on his laptop and the only time he looked up, he stared at
Tag who made sure to beam at him before he turned back to the window.
They refuelled once and Kareem went with Tag to the bathroom. Tag was fairly sure that he’d
have been making this trip whether he’d agreed to come or not. He wasn’t going to give Kareem any
trouble. Delaney was at the end of this journey.
He hoped.
 The long trip gave Tag plenty of time to think about what lay ahead. He was going to have to run.
He couldn’t see how that could be avoided. He wished he and Delaney had had a chance to work out
a plan. But then Delaney had been clear he didn’t want Tag involved. Too late now.

The helicopter landed on a rectangle of concrete at the side of a stretch of choppy water. Over the
last fifteen minutes of flying, Tag had seen no dwellings, not even a shepherd’s hut. Below them were
valleys and moorland smothered with brown and purple heather, occasional ribbons of water and
rugged mountains in the distance. The pilot turned off the power and they were able to remove their
headphones.
By the time Tag was allowed out, the blades had almost stopped turning. He spotted someone
pushing a wheeled contraption out of a hangar, and he guessed they were going to move the helicopter
under cover. It wasn’t until Tag turned to face the water that he saw the castle.
“Cairnluith,” Norbury told him.
“Is it yours?” Tag asked.
Norbury laughed. “Yes.”
Tag wondered if it had a dungeon. Or a dragon. He smiled until he remembered why he was
there.
“Want to use the golf cart, sir?” the pilot asked.
“No, we’ll walk,” Norbury said.
Tag slung his backpack on his shoulder and went with Kareem and Norbury, taking in as much as
he could of the surroundings. The hunt wouldn’t necessarily take place around here, though he
suspected it would happen on Norbury’s land where he could control everything.
The castle was old but had been restored. Norbury was telling him all about its history, but Tag
was now having trouble concentrating. Maybe he’d never leave this place.
They went in through a large wooden door, and Tag stumbled to a halt when he saw what was
waiting in the hall: a naked boy-man with a thick leather collar around his neck, pads on his knees and
covers that looked like paws on his hands and feet. He had a wagging rubber tail in his arse and a
leather mask on his face complete with muzzle and pointed ears. All that could be seen were his eyes.
Is this Prince Ahsan?
“Good boy.” Norbury bent to stroke him. “Have you missed me?”
The…dog nodded.
“Have you been well behaved?”
“He’s been very good. We’ve been working on obedience, haven’t we?”
Tag saw the boy shudder and looked up. The newcomer had icy blue eyes, blond hair and a cruel
smile, and was dressed all in black.
“Good flight?” the man asked.
“Smooth, thank you, Lincoln. This is Tag and Kareem. Lincoln is my right-hand man here. This is
my pup, Sonny.”
It had to be Ahsan.
“Like a playmate for a few days, Sonny?” Norbury asked.
Uh oh.
The pup nodded and the tail wagged harder.
“Take Tag to the tack room,” Norbury said. “Show Kareem where the staff quarters are.”
Kareem grabbed Tag’s arm.
“Hey!” Tag tried to pull away but couldn’t. “You didn’t say anything about this. When am I going
to get paid?”
“You agreed to be a companion,” Norbury snapped. “Isn’t a dog a man’s best friend? Do as
you’re told and you’ll get your money. Don’t do as you’re told and you’ll be beaten.”
The pup was pawing at Tag’s leg and Tag stopped struggling. Shit!
Kareem muttered threats in Tag’s ear as he dragged him after Lincoln and the pup who moved
surprisingly quickly on all fours, half-sliding down the polished floor, his tail waving in the air.
Once Lincoln had opened a door halfway down a corridor, he reached for Tag. “I’ll handle him
now.”
“He’s trouble,” Kareem said.
“Nothing I can’t deal with. Keep going down the corridor and you’ll find the staffroom second on
the right.”
Lincoln had the sort of voice that made you want to do as you were told.
When Kareem had gone, Lincoln turned to Tag. “I hope I don’t need to lock the door.”
“No…sir.”
“Take your clothes off.”
Oh fuck. Tag stripped, putting his clothes in a neat pile on top of his shoes.
“Good boy. See that, Sonny? I didn’t even have to tell him to be neat.”
Ahsan was on the mat on all fours, his brown eyes fixed on Tag. How can he breathe?
“I don’t mean to be awkward,” Tag said. “But…”
Lincoln stared at him.
“I’ll have an anxiety attack if you cover my face.”
Tag had decided that there was no point just refusing because this was going to happen anyway,
but maybe Lincoln would give him the chance to get used to it.
“We’ll start without the mouth covering, but misbehave now and you’ll be wearing the full thing
immediately.”
Tag clenched his teeth into his cheeks to try and stop himself crying.
Lincoln handed him the headgear. “Look at it, handle it. It’s made of neoprene. It doesn’t smell
bad. You can see the airholes at the side of the muzzle. Sonny can breathe with no problem.”
Tag knew Lincoln would be able to see his hands shaking. At least he wasn’t telling Tag that this
was what Tag wanted. Pony play hadn’t been either but it had made no difference. This was abuse,
but there was nothing he could do. The more he cooperated, the better he’d be treated. And
considering the end game, what did this matter?
Protective pads were strapped to his knees, soft slippers that looked like paws put on his feet,
with something similar fastened to his hands. When Tag turned his hand over, there were pads like a
real paw, but Tag wasn’t going to be able to get the hand coverings off on his own. By the time
Lincoln had attached the collar, then the chest harness, the guy had a distinct bulge at the front of his
trousers.
“On your knees, cutie,” Lincoln ordered. “I’m going to give you your tail.”
Tag did as he was told. Ahsan put his paw on top of Tag’s and petted him.
“Good boy, Sonny. Let me get Tag sorted, then you two can play with the ball.”
When Lincoln put his hand on Tag’s lower back, he tensed.
“Relax.”
Sonny stared into his eyes and blinked twice. Somehow Tag thought he was being sent a message
and he blinked back. Sonny put his neoprene-covered face next to Tag’s and rubbed up against him.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
 Tag sucked in a breath as the lube-covered butt plug was eased into his backside. He could hear
Lincoln breathing heavily as he moved it back and forth, then Tag began to breathe heavily too
because the plug was stroking his prostate with every pass. His cock hardened and precome gathered
at his tip. I don’t want you to make me come!
“Look at that, Sonny. He’s a randy little puppy just like you.”
Lincoln pushed the plug all the way in, jolting Tag forward. Tag could feel the wider base wedged
against his arse, stopping it from going further, then he realised the tail was at the end anyway. The
weight of it made Tag want to sit down and yet not want to sit at the same time.
“Now the hood,” Lincoln said.
Oh God! Tag’s heart rate shot up and it was already high. His throat went tight and he started to
shake. His cock deflated.
“Take some deep breaths,” Lincoln said. “I’m not going to cover your mouth straightaway.” He
unfastened a couple of press studs and pulled the hood over Tag’s head.
Tag wished he wasn’t crying, but he was. Lincoln ran his finger over Tag’s cheek and licked it.
“Sweet puppy. Be brave.”
The hood was fastened in place, but the mouthpiece hung loose. Lincoln sat on the floor next to
him. Sonny was still nuzzling up against Tag looking as though he was trying to reassure him.
Tag concentrated on breathing slowly, counting to five but he could feel panic building inside him.
“No talking while the hood is on. You can bark and snuffle.”
“What about a safe word?” Tag blurted. “A safe sign?”
“Show him, Sonny.”
Ahsan put his front paws together.
“That means time out,” Lincoln said. “Let’s try the muzzle.”
“What?”
Before Tag could stop him, Lincoln snapped it into place. Don’t panic! Tag couldn’t get enough
air. He was breathing too quickly and he felt sick. Oh God. If he was sick with the mask on, he’d
choke. He tried to pull at it, then pressed his hands together but Lincoln held him in place. Tag knew
that he wasn’t helping himself, but he grew more and more frantic.
Lincoln grabbed his wrists and kept his hands on the floor. “Breathe with me. Slowly. In…out…
in…out.”
Tag was trying to tell him to take the muzzle off, that he was going to die if he didn’t, but Lincoln
just kept doing the fucking breathing thing. Ahsan had his paws together in the time out signal but
Lincoln ignored him. Tag wasn’t sure how long it was before he began to calm. It was probably not as
long as it felt. He was wringing with sweat, his heart was going crazy, but he didn’t pass out.
“Well done,” Lincoln said. “Look at you. What a good puppy.”
Fuck off, fuck off, fucking fuck off.
“I’m going to leave you to settle down. Lie on the rug and rest for a while until Tag is feeling
better. You can play with the ball later, once he’s used to the mask. If there are any problems, Sonny,
ring the bell.”
Ahsan nodded.
Tag crawled over to the rug and lay down. Ahsan lay facing him with his muzzle close to Tag’s,
then put his paw over Tag’s and pressed lightly.
“Good boys,” Lincoln said and left the room.
“Wait.” Ahsan’s voice was faint in Tag’s ear, but he got the message.
The mask was fucking horrible but now his breathing had calmed, he felt a little better.
 “I’m sorry you’re here, but I’m glad,” Ahsan whispered. “We have to be careful. If we get caught
talking, Lincoln will put us in cock cages or think up some other punishment like getting us to cock-
warm him for hours or making us stay as puppies all night.”
What the hell was cock-warming? Though maybe he could guess.
Tag whimpered. He wanted to tell Ahsan he knew who he was, that Rafiq wanted to help him, that
people were coming to save both of them, but he couldn’t say any of that. Partly because there might
be someone listening, partly because help might not come and partly because he didn’t know yet if he
could trust Ahsan not to say anything to Lincoln or Norbury.
Slowly, Tag’s heart calmed. He still hated the mask but he was coping.
“What’s your name?” Tag whispered. He hoped and yet didn’t hope that the guy was Ahsan.
“Ahsan.”
Tag swallowed.
“Is yours Tag? Or is that your puppy name?”
“Real name.”
“Did you want to come here and be a puppy?”
“No.”
“Me neither but play along. It’s less painful. Try to look pleased to see them. Wag your tail. Woof.
Bounce.”
“Can we escape?” Tag whispered.
Ahsan let out a shaky sigh. “There’s nowhere to go.”

When Lincoln came in and told them to play, Norbury was with him. Tag saw Ahsan wagging his
tail but he couldn’t bring himself to do the same. He and Ahsan knocked the ball to one another. Tag
kept missing and having to crawl over the hardwood floor to retrieve it. He was glad his knees were
protected.
Then Norbury got hold of the ball. “First puppy to bring me the ball gets a treat.” He threw it
across the room.
Tag half-heartedly followed Ahsan. Ahsan got there first and rolled it back. When Norbury
unfastened his facemask to give him a snack, Tag wished he’d tried harder.
“Good boy!” Norbury said to Ahsan. “Paw!”
Ahsan put his paw out and Norbury shook it, then fed him a piece of biscuit, and stroked his head.
“Want a biscuit, Tag?” Norbury asked. “Sit up and beg.”
Fuck off. Tag had told himself not to be awkward. He’d been good so far but push him too far and
he kicked back. He wasn’t that desperate for a biscuit. He stayed where he was.
“Sonny!” Norbury snapped.
Ahsan crouched down, then came up on his knees and put his paws in front of him as if he was
begging.
“Good boy.” Norbury gave him another piece, then went over to Tag. He unfastened the
mouthpiece and Tag sucked in a breath.
“Lincoln says you struggled with the headgear. What do you want, pup?”
“To go to bed,” Tag muttered. “Please. I’m overwhelmed.” That wasn’t quite true, but he wanted
to curl up somewhere safe. Except was bed going to be a safe place?
Norbury turned to Lincoln. “End of play now. Feed them, bathe them, then put them to bed. Make
sure Tag eats and drinks.”
 Tag was relieved to be out of all the gear but he wasn’t allowed to put his clothes back on. Nor
was Ahsan. Ahsan was beautiful. He didn’t look as old as Tag. He had huge brown eyes with thick
lashes and very white teeth. He was smaller than Tag both in height and build. A meal arrived and
they sat at the table at the end of the room to eat it.
“You may talk if you want to,” Lincoln said.
“Hi.” Tag managed a smile across the table to Ahsan.
“Hi.” Ahsan smiled back.
Tag didn’t need to be encouraged to eat. He was hungry and thirsty. If he was going to have to run
for his life, the more energy he had, the better. They’d been given chicken curry, rice and naan bread
and it tasted good. What wasn’t so good was Lincoln sitting there watching them. Listening.
“Have you been a puppy for long?” Tag asked.
“No.”
“Are you allowed to swim in the pool?”
Ahsan looked at Lincoln.
“Would you like to?” Lincoln asked.
Ahsan nodded. “Yes please, sir.”
“Tomorrow then.”
“Thank you, sir,” Tag said.
Lincoln smiled. “Why did Kareem say you were trouble?”
“He didn’t like my singing.”
Lincoln laughed.
“And I might have taken exception to someone cheating in a pony race and attacked him, and I
tried to bite the Master.”
“Not so good then.”
“No, and I ran away,” Tag added.
“Nowhere to run to here.”
“How far away is the nearest village?” Tag asked.
“Too far for you to run to.”
Tag changed the subject. “What’s the routine?”
“Tell him, Sonny.”
“We wake at six. Then we shower and have breakfast. Training then playtime. We have lunch and
then more training and playtime before it’s time for dinner and bath time and bed. But we can swim
tomorrow.”
“Don’t you go outside?”
“Sometimes as a special treat if I’ve been good. But it’s cold here.”
Tag thought Ahsan sounded wrong, subdued and sort of child-like. Maybe that was what they
wanted.
When they’d finished eating, they put their dirty plates on the trolley.
“Bath time,” Lincoln said. “Show Tag the way.”
Ahsan took Tag’s hand and tugged him from the room and up the stairs. He squeezed his hand hard
and pressed his thumb into the centre of Tag’s palm a few times. If it was a message, Tag didn’t know
what it meant.
His clothes and backpack had been put on a chair in the room and he guessed this was where he
was going to sleep. It was a big bed with old-fashioned furniture and old paintings on the wall. Ahsan
led him through another door into a large bathroom with stone walls but everything in there was
modern, including the large tub. Lincoln started the water running. Ahsan picked two towels from the
rack and dropped them down next to the bath, then cleaned his teeth.
Tag noticed his toilet bag was on a shelf next to the sink. Someone had been through his backpack.
He cleaned his teeth too. He’d been a little kid the last time he’d had a bath, but when Lincoln told
them to get in, Tag climbed in and sat down opposite Ahsan. There was enough room for them both to
have their legs out straight. Tag felt sleepy and he wasn’t sure why. Could be the drop in adrenaline or
maybe the food or orange drink had been spiked.
He watched as Lincoln washed Ahsan, carefully cleaning all of him. Really all of him. When he’d
shampooed and rinsed Ahsan’s hair, he turned to Tag.
“Give me your arm.”
Tag sighed but did as he was told. He felt numb as Lincoln worked on him. He could see Lincoln
was hard but Tag wasn’t. Ahsan hadn’t been either. It was impossible to relax. Tag was convinced the
guy was going to rape him or force him to give him a blowjob, but he didn’t. Lincoln dried them both,
then put them in bed together naked.
“No playing, pups. Straight to sleep.”
Tag hadn’t intended to fall straight to sleep, but he felt his eyes closing and there was nothing he
could do.
 16
Delaney was eating breakfast when his phone rang. He’d spent the night at a hotel close to London
City Airport as a precaution, in case he was followed. His taxi was due in ten minutes.
“We’ve had a stroke of luck,” Henry said. “The tracker in Tag’s shoe is still active and we’ve
been able to close in on his whereabouts. Inverness-shire. Cairnluith Castle is the only habitable
dwelling within the triangulation. Owned by an offshore company but we’ve traced it back to a name
that we’ve seen in the data you downloaded from Norbury’s computer. The team are on their way.”
Delaney was relieved that that tracker hadn’t been found. “You’re assuming it will all happen
there. We might be whisked away by helicopter to some more remote location.”
“It’ll happen there. He owns eighty thousand acres and hunting rights. Not the sort of hunting he
plans for the glorious twelfth, but I think that’s going to be the day it happens. An even number and a
day when many will be out shooting.”
Delaney sighed.
“We’ll know the place for sure if flight plans are filed for Inverness. You might well be
transported by helicopter from the airport. Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes.” He hoped. “Henry?”
“What is it? Something we’ve not thought of?”
“Barker isn’t going to fuck this up, is he?”
“He better not. What is it between the pair of you?”
“I think he sees himself as your successor and has some mistaken belief that you might have me in
mind for that. I’m not interested, but Barker seems unable to believe that.”
“He would not be my choice. You would.”
Delaney smiled. “There’s your answer. Jealousy. Tell him I’m not under consideration and it will
make me feel happier. You have a long career still ahead of you. I’m really not interested, Henry.”
“Understood. Good luck.”
Delaney ended the call. Luck could play a part in any operation, but meticulous planning was
critical, following protocol and taking precautions had probably saved his life without him even
knowing. And yet Delaney acknowledged that luck had likely saved him too. Now he needed
professionalism and luck to play their part. In an hour, he’d start making his way to London City
Airport. The game was on. Cliché as it sounded, failure was not an option.

Delaney had been told by Barker that he didn’t need to arrive too early for the flight, because they
had people on the tarmac watching to see who was going on the jet with him, but Delaney went early
anyway, though not directly to the area he’d been told to go to. As it happened, it was impossible to
see the entrance to the private jet facility from anywhere he was able to easily access.
The only person in reception was a man behind a desk. Delaney managed to ascertain that no
other flight was taking off before theirs or for ninety minutes after, so everyone who would be joining
him in that room would be flying to Scotland.
Feely arrived and shook his hand. “Morning, Vadim.”
“Good morning. Please tell me little shit is still in your hands and not done disappearing act
again.”
“We still have him.”
“Excellent. Who is coming with us?”
 “I’ll introduce you as they arrive.”
“How many?”
“Six of us including me.”
Norbury’s superstition yet again meant it was going to be an even number. Though Delaney would
have preferred four.
Feely pushed to his feet when a man came into the reception. “Good morning, Jeremy. How are
you?”
Delaney absorbed as much information as he could from looking at the newcomer. Shorter than
him, bulkier, older and English. The others arrived soon after. Alec, Matt and Yves. Alec was
English, Matt American and Yves French. They all had weapon cases but only one had a metal case
like Delaney. Matt was the one to watch.
When it grew closer to the time that they’d be boarding, Delaney went to use the bathroom. He
texted the men’s names to Henry, then deleted the evidence. He flushed the toilet and came out to see
Feely at the sink washing his hands.
“We ready to go?” Delaney asked as he held his hands under the soap dispenser.
“You brought that in here with you?”
“I brought everything in here with me.” Delaney wanted no one touching his SSG 3000. He didn’t
really want anyone to see it until the day of the hunt.
“What’s your weapon of choice?” Feely asked.
“Wait and see.”
Delaney was out of the doors behind Feely when it was time for boarding. One of the pilots
loaded his two cases into the luggage area at the back of the jet and Delaney chatted to him as the
others brought up their bags.
“Two pilot?” Delaney asked.
The Citation XLS could be flown with one but Delaney hoped for two. He didn’t think anything
would kick off in the plane, but he couldn’t fly a jet.
The pilot nodded. “Company policy.”
Delaney nodded and climbed on board after Alec and Matt. The cabin had six fully reclining
leather seats plus a two-seat, sideways-facing sofa and an on-board toilet with a ninth seat next to it.
Delaney sat with his back to the cockpit so he could see everyone in the cabin. He wondered if a
Citation with a cockpit door had been a special request, because not all had them. Alec and Matt sat
facing each other on the other side of the jet. The Frenchman sat opposite Delaney, Jeremy and Feely
on the seats behind. After the safety information had been relayed, and the jet readied for take-off, the
door to the cockpit was closed.
Feely stood up. “I’d like to welcome you all on aboard. Feel free to chat. We can’t be overheard.
Once the captain has turned off the seat belt sign help yourself to drinks and snacks. Flight time one
hour forty-five minutes. Transfer by helicopter to our destination another twenty minutes.”
He sat down and fastened his seat belt.
No one spoke until the plane was in the air.
“Done this before?” Yves said to Delaney.
“Fly in plane?” Delaney grinned. “Few times. The other? I’ve done trophy hunt in South Africa.”
Yves nodded, no smile on his face. “Did you hit anything?”
“What do you think?”
Yves stared at him and said nothing.
Delaney shrugged. “Elephant is hard to miss.”
 “This isn’t going to be so easy.”
“True.”
“Are you a good shot?”
“Yes, are you?”
Yves smiled.
“How many targets?” Yves asked Feely.
“Two.”
“Want a wager?” Yves raised his voice so they could all hear.
“What are you thinking?” the American asked.
“We all put ten thousand into a pot and whoever gets the first hit takes it.”
Everyone agreed. Fucking freak. Pain pulsed across Delaney’s temple at the thought of any of
these bastards shooting at Tag. Who was the other target? Possibly the prince if he’d outworn his
usefulness or value.
He closed his eyes and listened to the conversations around him. The American said very little,
which just confirmed to Delaney that he was the one to watch.
An hour into the flight, Delaney went to the bathroom and checked his messages. Jeremy Pascoe
was the head of Oak and Pascoe, a large offshore law firm based in Jersey. Matt Spencer was a
former soldier, an American who’d made millions in the dotcom world. Alec Dronfield had inherited
his wealth from his father but not his father’s brains. Yves Cranteau owned two of the biggest
Champagne producing companies in France.
Delaney read quickly but there was nothing of particular value. Of course, all those details could
have been as fabricated as his had been, but he didn’t think so. He deleted the text and retook his seat.
He closed his eyes again to avoid conversation, but he listened. Anything he heard could be
useful.

***
Tag woke to find Ahsan staring at him. He smiled at Tag and Tag just about managed to smile
back.
“Morning,” Ahsan whispered. “Nearly time to wake up. Do you feel better?”
“Not when I think about having my face covered.” Tag rubbed at his throat. “My mother put her
shopping bag over my head when I was five and I’ve been petrified of having my face covered ever
since.”
“Was she trying to kill you?” Ahsan’s eyes were wide.
“She was drunk. I was hungry and crying, and she wanted to shut me up.”
“That’s awful. I didn’t like the mask when Lincoln first used it. I don’t now, but I’m used to it.”
“Does he accept the time out sign that you showed me?”
Ahsan shrugged. “Not always. You saw that. But he does when Norbury is watching.”
Tag gritted his teeth. “How did you end up here?”
“I think my brother Saad arranged it. He hates me because I’m gay. I’m not allowed to be gay in
my country.”
“Have they raped you?” Tag whispered.
Ahsan gave a small nod. “Lincoln’s not supposed to do anything sexual to me but he does.
Norbury usually has me in his bed, or sleeping on the floor at the foot of his bed, when he’s up here.
Maybe he wants two of us.” His eyes flooded with tears. “He might tell you to fuck me on all fours
like a dog. Just do it. Do whatever they say. They’ll punish us both if you don’t. And if…they tell me
to…”
“Whatever you need to do, do it,” Tag told him and squeezed his fingers.
The door opened and Lincoln came in. “Both awake. Good. Out of bed. Use the bathroom.”
Tag followed Ahsan. Delaney would come and there’d be a way out of this. That’s what would
keep Tag going.

Tag did his best to behave, but he had another meltdown when the mask was put on. Being told
he’d have to wear it longer than Ahsan as a punishment just made him more frantic. Tag honestly
thought he was going to die. No amount of praise and petting made this right. Tag hated Lincoln, who
kept stroking their cocks, playing with their butt plugs and their balls, edging them to the point of pain
but not letting them come. Tag wondered if they’d been given Viagra because he didn’t understand
why he was getting hard when it was the last thing he wanted. When Tag had tried to rub himself off
against a couch, he’d been put in a cock cage, his poor semi-hard cock stuffed into a space that was
too small and he promised himself he was going to get even with Lincoln.
After lunch, they were allowed in the pool and stripped of everything. The bliss of that freedom
almost blew his mind. The water was warm and Tag sank below the surface. For just a few moments,
he allowed himself to relax, let his worries sink to the bottom. Delaney would come and everything
would turn out right. And if he didn’t come, Tag would run as fast and as long as he could. And he’d
take Ahsan with him.
They had five minutes of swimming in peace before Lincoln got in with them. Naked. Tag worried
about that. He was the worst swimmer of the three of them, and when Lincoln went after Ahsan, Tag
couldn’t get there quick enough to stop Lincoln messing with him. But when he did get there, he clung
to Lincoln’s back and yanked him away from Ahsan, almost drowning himself in the process. He
wanted to drown Lincoln, actually wondered if he could do it, if he had it in him, but he wasn’t strong
enough, and in the end, it was Lincoln who had to drag him to the surface and back to the shallow end
so Tag could stand up.
“Dickhead.” Lincoln held him by the neck. “Guess who’s going to be sleeping in the headgear
tonight?”
“I’m fucking not.” Tag gritted his teeth.
He went wild then, lashing out, kicking and Ahsan joined in. Even two of them were no match for
a guy of Lincoln’s strength.
Lincoln lifted Ahsan out of the water. “Stay there unless you want to wear the headgear all night
too.” He turned to Tag. “If you can get to the other end before me, I’ll reconsider. I’ll give you a
start.”
Tag began to swim up the pool, but the moment Lincoln overtook him, he swam to the side and
climbed out. He and Ahsan stood shivering together when Norbury walked in. Ahsan dropped onto
his knees and after he touched Tag’s calf, Tag did the same. Lincoln climbed out of the pool, grabbed
a towel and walked down to them.
“Having fun?” Norbury asked.
“Yes,” Ahsan said as Tag said, “No.”
Tag ignored Ahsan’s warning touch.
“Lincoln was hurting Ahsan and there was no reason. I tried to stop him. He didn’t like that.”
Lincoln stared at him as if he could kill him. But others were looking forward to doing that and
what more could he do that was worse than putting that hood on Tag’s head?
“The pups are bonding.” Norbury smiled at them, then at Lincoln.
 “Yes, sir. The training is going well.”
Shit. Tag had thought Norbury would be angry and he wasn’t.
“Put them back in their puppy gear. The guests will be arriving shortly.”
Once Norbury had gone, Lincoln smacked Tag around the head. “If you cause me trouble, I’ll
cause trouble for you. Both of you get dry.”
Lincoln dressed, then put the headgear on Tag first before he did anything else.
“Not such a smart mouth now,” he sneered. “Learn to behave or you’ll be sorry.”
Tag fought for control of his body, made himself breathe slowly. He hadn’t died before. He wasn’t
going to die now. Not yet anyway. His heart was buoyed by the thought that Delaney might be there
soon.
“Perfect behaviour or you’ll be whipped,” Lincoln said.
He pushed Tag to his knees and Ahsan dropped down beside him. They crawled up the stairs and
Lincoln attached leads to their collars.
“Let’s go outside.”
“Taking the puppies for a walk?” Kareem laughed.
Tag hadn’t seen him since they’d arrived.
“Yep, want to join us?”
“Why not? I’ll have Tag.”
The moment Kareem had the lead in his hand he jerked at it and wrenched Tag’s neck. Tag yelped
and Lincoln laughed.
Tag and Ahsan stumbled down onto the gravel and struggled to keep up as they were pulled along.
Goose bumps erupted on Tag’s body. It might be August but the wind was biting.
When they were on the grass, Lincoln stopped. “Cock your legs and piss against the tree. We’re
staying out here until you do.”
Tag was furious. He met Ahsan’s gaze and blinked at him. Neither of them moved towards the
tree.
“Get on with it,” Kareem snapped and kicked Tag in the side.
Tag fell over groaning.
“Not too rough,” Lincoln said. “Mr Norbury won’t want his guests to think they’re getting
damaged goods.”
When Tag saw how hard Ahsan was shivering, he sighed and crawled towards the tree. He
managed the tiniest piss, then crawled away. Ahsan copied him and they were tugged back across the
gravel towards the house. When Ahsan slid onto his stomach and Lincoln kept pulling, Tag grabbed
hold of Ahsan’s lead and yanked so hard that Lincoln jerked backwards.
“You’re hurting him,” Tag shouted through the mask.
Kareem lashed Tag with the lead and Tag cried out.
“Kareem! Lincoln! What do you think you’re doing?”
That was Norbury. Tag helped Ahsan back to all fours and brushed the gravel from his skin.
“Enough!” Norbury snapped. “Bring them into the drawing room.”
Tag heard the sound of a helicopter as they were taken inside and his heart lurched. If Delaney
wasn’t on board, he and Ahsan were running tonight.
“Lie down on the rug, puppies,” Norbury said.
Ahsan leaned against Norbury’s leg, wagging his tail as the guy stroked him. Ahsan turned to look
at Tag and Tag got the message. Play the game.
“Be good puppies for our guests.” Norbury was staring at Tag as he said that. “Perhaps you
should make Ahsan pay later for Tag’s misbehaviour.”
Shit!
“Yes, sir,” Lincoln said.
“Come and help with the bags,” Norbury said and Kareem and Lincoln left with him.
“What’s happening tomorrow?” Ahsan whispered.
Tag bit his lip. If he’d been Ahsan, would he have wanted to know that Norbury had arranged a
hunt where rich people wouldn’t be shooting birds or deer, but at Tag and maybe Ahsan? Tag thought
he’d rather not know.
What sort of people could be perfectly normal—well, maybe relatively normal for 364 days a
year but for one day, they wanted to enjoy themselves by shooting someone? They weren’t the sort of
people he’d want to meet and that was exactly what was going to happen in a few minutes. Meet your
killer. He felt sick with anxiety. If Delaney wasn’t with them, what the fuck was he going to do? He
and Ahsan would have to flee tonight. Find a key, take a car? He wasn’t sure he could remember how
drive, especially in a panic. Could Ahsan drive? His mind began to buzz with ideas, but in his heart,
he knew their chances of getting away were small.
When he heard the sound of voices in the hall, Tag tensed and groaned. Ahsan stroked his arm
with his paw and Tag nudged his muzzle to Ahsan’s. The door opened and a group of men walked in,
led by Norbury. The Master brought up the rear. Ahsan had his head down but Tag had his up,
looking…looking. The relief when he saw Delaney was so acute, he almost sobbed.
Norbury was playing the genial host while Kareem served drinks.
“Come and see my pups,” Norbury said. “One is of special interest to you, Vadim.”
“Fucking hell,” said a guy with a French accent as he approached where Tag and Ahsan were
lying.
“Pony to puppy,” Delaney said with a laugh. “He better trained now?”
“Let’s see. Up pups!” Norbury ordered.
Both Tag and Ahsan came up on their knees, paws together in front of their chests. The men
laughed. They kept on laughing when Norbury made Tag and Ahsan wag their tails, fetch the ball,
roughhouse, then pretend to fuck. Tag was humiliated and angry, but he didn’t want Lincoln to hurt
Ahsan because of him. Tag couldn’t bring himself to look at Delaney or even go near him. He put up
with being patted, stroked and touched, and he wanted Delaney to kill all of them.
Lincoln came to take Tag and Ahsan out and they left the room on all fours.
“If I was gay…” said the American and the others laughed.
Tag followed Ahsan and Lincoln up the stairs to their room. He had no idea of the layout of this
place, how many members of staff there were. Nothing useful to tell Delaney.
“For your bad behaviour in the pool and outside, you can both stay as you are.” Lincoln left them.
Tag put his hand between his feet and tried to pull off the mitten. “Help me, please.”
Ahsan tugged and as Tag wriggled his fingers, he could feel the covering coming loose. When it
came off, he gulped. No going back now. The other was easy to remove and he unfastened the hood
and wrenched it off.
“You too?” Tag asked.
He wasn’t sure Ahsan would agree but he nodded.
A few minutes later, they were both free of everything, including the tails, harnesses and collars.
“Lincoln is going to be pissed off,” Ahsan said.
“He’ll probably be happy because it gives him an excuse to punish us.”
Ahsan smiled. “Now what?”
 Tag longed to tell him everything, but he held his tongue. “Want to put on some clothes and go for
a walk?”
Ahsan’s eyes widened as he gaped at him, then nodded.
Their clothes were in a cupboard and they quickly dressed. Tag tried the door expecting it to be
locked and it wasn’t. Lincoln was so arrogant he’d not expected them to disobey him. When Ahsan
slipped his hand into Tag’s, Tag squeezed his fingers. He was glad Ahsan was brave enough to do this
with him, because if they were both running tomorrow for their lives, he needed Ahsan to show the
same courage. Maybe they should run now.
At the top of the stairs, Tag hesitated. He could hear voices in the drawing room, though the door
was almost closed. He headed down the stairs and pulled Ahsan towards the front door. When they
stepped outside and had closed the door behind them, they grinned at each other.
“They might have cameras,” Tag said. “We’re probably going to get caught but let’s see how far
we get.”
Tag led the way, heading around the side of the house, taking in everything he could. Garage, two
cars, a barn. There was no one around. He led Ahsan into the garage, then out again. No keys in the
cars. Nowhere to hide in the garage, but the barn had possibilities. Under cover of the barn, they ran
down towards the water.
“What were you looking for?” Ahsan asked.
“A place to hide. There’s a load of wood stored across the beams in the barn. We could lie on
those.” Though he meant Ahsan could.
Tag picked up a flat stone and sent it flying across the lake. When it bounced twice, he grinned.
“They’d find us eventually,” Ahsan said.
“Probably.” Tag threw another stone and it skipped three times.
“We could run now.”
“They’d catch us. We need to leave when they won’t find out for a while that we’ve gone.”
Moments later, they were both skimming stones. Delaney had been right when they’d done this on
the beach. Wrong sort of stones there but these were perfect.
“That was seven!” Ahsan beamed at him.
He looked so young and happy and so different that a lump formed in Tag’s throat. Maybe this was
all they’d have. One last happy moment. He thought again about telling him that Rafiq had been
looking for him, that he hadn’t given up on him, but stopped himself. There was no guarantee that Tag
wouldn’t find himself on a different side to Ahsan at some point. A promise of freedom by Norbury
and Ahsan could betray him. False hope, but Tag understood.
When they heard someone coming, Tag froze, thinking it would be Lincoln, but he was wrong. It
was Delaney.
“Who win?” Delaney asked.
“Ahsan skimmed it seven times. Best I’ve managed is five.”
Delaney looked around, picked up a stone and launched it across the water.
“Wow,” Ahsan gasped. “That had to be around fourteen.”
The three of them kept playing and Delaney stood behind Tag and took his arm to show him how
to throw. As he did, he kissed his ear and the breath caught in Tag’s throat. “I’ll see you later,” he
whispered.
Tag’s next stone plopped straight down.
“Huh. You’re bad luck,” Tag said.
“Better go back, puppies,” Delaney said. “Big day tomorrow.”
 They set off back to the house.
“What’s happening tomorrow?” Ahsan asked.
Delaney glanced at Tag. “We shoot. Glorious twelfth.”
“What’s that?” Tag asked.
“Start of grouse shooting season.”
“Poor birds,” Ahsan said.
“Grouse fly low at 70 miles an hour. Change direction in an instant.” Delaney glanced at Tag.
“Key to survival.”
Tag’s heart thumped, hope surged.
Lincoln came tearing out of the house and rushed towards them. “Where the fuck have you two
been?”
“We skim stones,” Delaney said. “Don’t punish. They entertain me.”
Lincoln grabbed hold of Ahsan’s arm and Delaney grabbed Lincoln’s and twisted it. “You deaf?”
“They’re my responsibility. They shouldn’t have been outside.” But Lincoln let Ahsan go, and
Delaney released his hold too.
“Then you failed to take care of them. Maybe it you who need punishing.” They reached the door
and Delaney turned to Tag. “You, I punish later.”
Lincoln bustled them back upstairs, clearly relieved when they weren’t seen by anyone else.
“Clothes off and get in the shower,” he snapped.
Tag did as he was told, but as he followed Ahsan to the bathroom, Lincoln hauled him back.
“I know this was down to you. He’d never have done that before you came here.”
Tag said nothing and Lincoln pushed him away.
Tag and Ahsan were still in the shower when Tag heard Norbury talking to Lincoln. He stepped
out of the water and grabbed a towel.
“Just having a shower,” Lincoln said.
“I hear they were skimming stones.”
“I thought a short period of freedom would do them good.”
“Did you?”
“Well, they can’t get anywhere. I didn’t see the harm.”
“You let them go outside after I’d told you that was one of the rules? They only leave the house
under supervision. Think before you answer.”
When Ahsan turned off the water, Tag reached in and switched it on again, mouthing stay there.
“They left on their own,” Lincoln said. “They were resting. It’s Tag’s fault. He’s a bad influence.”
That was true.
“I thought I could trust you to look after them.”
“You can.”
Norbury didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Make sure they eat well tonight and go to bed
early. At some point the Russian will call for Tag. Escort him yourself. Do not let him roam around.
He has a habit of escaping. And you are not to touch either Ahsan or Tag. Understand?”
“Yes.”
At the sound of the door closing, Tag nodded to Ahsan to turn off the water. When they were both
dry, they walked back into the room naked.
“Don’t bother putting your clothes on,” Lincoln said. “It’s food and straight to bed tonight. What
would you like for dinner?”
 Delaney sat at the dining table with the Frenchman on one side and Norbury on the other. After a
butternut squash and coconut soup, fillets of highland venison with port and redcurrant jus had been
served. Delaney helped himself to potato Dauphinoise and roast parsnips. To his amusement, Alec
Dronfield was a vegan and he’d been given Portobella Stroganoff.
In what sort of world did being a vegan sit comfortably with paying millions to hunt and kill
people? Killing animals was wrong but not killing people? Jesus Christ. Delaney wasn’t naive. The
world had plenty of people willing to do things others would think were evil. He was one of them,
but to pay to hunt people who’d done nothing, then walk away and let others clean up the mess you’d
made—Delaney hoped the world would have fewer of these fuckers tomorrow.
Henry wanted them alive, but Delaney would do whatever was necessary to protect Tag. And
maybe Ahsan too. He’d been shocked when he’d first seen the two of them in puppy gear.
“Don’t you think?” Norbury asked.
“Sorry. Day-dreaming,” Delaney said.
“I was saying the earlier we start, the better. The weather forecast is excellent. We need to make
the most of it.”
Delaney nodded. “How long before we follow?”
“All the details will be given after dinner.”
“I like your castle.”
“It was a wreck when I bought it. One fascinating find in the attic was the estate’s old game
books. Handwritten accounts of every duck, pheasant, deer or grouse that was shot here over the year.
The hunters’ names and the weather conditions were also recorded.”
“Not good idea to continue that tradition,” Delaney said.
Norbury laughed. “I agree. The entry that amused me the most was one that said, ‘The birds
seemed disinclined to fly today.’”
Delaney chuckled. They won’t want to tomorrow either but you won’t let them say no. “Do you
organise regular shoots?”
“No. I shoot grouse but I’m a green laird. More interested in the value of the natural assets: the
wonderful scenery, forests to absorb carbon and habitats that sustain biodiversity. I’ve invested in
peatland restoration and planted thousands of trees.”
Sanctimonious prick. “Tiring work,” Delaney said.
“You have no need to offset your carbon emission, do you?” the Frenchman asked Norbury.
“No, but for a fee, I’ll offset that of other people.”
“Always an angle,” said Matt, who was on Norbury’s other side.
This was surreal. Delaney was sitting eating, drinking—though not much, and chatting as if this
was an ordinary dinner party, with these twisted fucks who had perverted interests. They believed he
was one of them.
He felt as secure as he could be with his legend. Delaney wondered if everyone’s bags were
being searched. They’d find the body armour. It wouldn’t usually be what Delaney would wear. It
was top-of-the-range, ultra-high-molecular-weight polyethylene with a twist, thin and light, though its
rigidity and weight still affected manoeuvrability, but it wasn’t for him. It was for Tag. Delaney
would wear the camouflage outer covering and no one would realise the interior part was no longer
there. They wouldn’t be able to get into his rifle case without damaging it, so he was happy enough
that what he’d hidden in there would stay hidden.
 Sticky toffee pudding with butterscotch sauce and vanilla ice cream were served as dessert.
Delaney wondered if Tag was eating the same thing.
 17
By the time Delaney was back in his room, awaiting the delivery of Tag, his normally composed
heart rate was higher than he wanted it to be. Norbury had set out the details of what would happen
tomorrow, that the hunt would start from the castle. The prey would be allowed to run where they
liked. The hunters would all have radios to contact each other, and Norbury had promised helicopter
support. That was bad news. Delaney had wondered about sabotaging the copter but it wasn’t
something he knew much about and might tip off Norbury that they had a viper in the nest.
There was a sharp knock on his door. Delaney called “Yes!” and a naked Tag was shoved into his
room so forcefully that he fell over. Lincoln glared at Delaney, then closed the door.
“Little shit,” Delaney snarled loud enough for Lincoln to hear, in case he’d lingered outside.
“How I’ve missed you.”
Delaney had been unable to find a microphone or camera. He’d had the newly purchased
electronic sweeper in his pocket since he’d arrived. He hadn’t risked that being discovered, though
anyone involved in this enterprise had an excuse for being extra vigilant. The problem was that in a
place like this, there might be secret passages, spy holes high in the stone walls, places where others
could watch and listen.
“Come here, little shit.”
Tag pushed to his feet and walked over to him.
Delaney put his hand to his own ear to indicate that they might be being listened to. “You found
very good hiding place. Wasn’t expecting you to leave house. What happened? You cost me lot of
money. And steal from me.”
“I didn’t want to get fucked by other men.” Tag stopped when he was a few feet away from him. “I
was scared. I knew I wasn’t going to get paid if I ran, so…”
“Still scared?”
“No. I’m having a lovely time playing at being a puppy. Chasing balls is so much fun. Might end
up biting some.”
“Still have smart mouth. I fix.” Delaney pulled him into his arms.
Tag made a feeble protest, then gave in. “Did you like my tail?”
“Like my cock in your arse better. Shower. Now.”
Delaney stripped off on the way to the bathroom. Tag was already standing under the water when
Delaney reached him. Tag pulled him into his arms, brushing his hand over every single part of
Delaney he could reach and Delaney did the same to him. Delaney was almost afraid to kiss him
because he wasn’t sure he could stop.
Tag was the most dangerous thing he’d ever encountered. His mouth tasted sweet and sticky and
Delaney smiled as he recognised the toffee dessert. He kissed down Tag’s neck, biting and sucking,
soothing with the flat of his tongue, then after another session at his mouth, he rested his forehead
against Tag’s until he caught his breath.
“You okay?” Delaney asked quietly in his own voice. “Did anyone touch you?”
“No, not really. I mean, I’m sort of okay now you’re here because I was scared you might not
come. But no one forced themselves on me.”
“Good.”
Tag clung to his arms, his fingers digging in, as if he was worried Delaney was going to back
away. Delaney stared at Tag’s wide brown eyes, the way he kept swallowing, the hollow at the
bottom of his neck, the curved ladder of his ribs and the tall stand of his cock.
 “You’re gorgeous,” Delaney whispered. His voice wouldn’t carry above the falling water but he
still needed to be careful.
“You’re only saying that because you want to put your cock where my tail was.”
Delaney brushed the water from Tag’s face. “I do, but you need to listen to what I’m going to tell
you.”
Tag nodded.
“Tomorrow, six of us, Feely included, are going to be hunting three of you. Norbury is unhappy
it’s an odd number, but he wants to get rid of Lincoln.”
Tag groaned. “And me and Ahsan?”
“Yes. You need to get away from Lincoln tomorrow. He probably won’t stick with you, but
spreading out makes it harder for those following. I have personal body armour that you and Ahsan
can split and share. It will only cover your backs, but it’s better than nothing.”
“How are we going to wear it without them noticing?”
“It’s thin and lightweight. You can wear it under your T-shirts. I’m going to go out tonight and hide
it with a phone and a few other items behind that large rock on the shore where we were throwing
stones. Tomorrow, set off in that direction. Pick up what I’ve left, carry it and run round the loch for
about a mile, then head uphill. Try to get as high as you can as quickly as you can. Go over the top,
keeping low, remembering everything I told you. Then you just run and run. You have thirty minutes
before we follow. Just get as far away as you can but after thirty minutes wherever you are, put on the
armour.”
“If Ahsan can’t run…”
“You save yourself.”
Tag sagged.
Delaney pulled him down to the floor of the shower and held him tight. “You save yourself.
Promise.”
Tag nodded.
“If you linger to help him, you’ll both be shot. Try to be over the hill before we come after you.
Hopefully two hunters will track Lincoln.”
“Are they all expert marksmen?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure one is. The American. When I see their weapons, I’ll know for
certain.”
“I do have another idea. I found a place where Ahsan could hide. There’s a sort of platform in the
barn where they’ve stored planks. He could climb up and lie on top of the wood. Wait there until it’s
all over.”
“They’re going to put trackers on all three of you.”
“Oh. Then I could take Ahsan’s with me and throw it off a mountain. How quickly is your boss
going to have people here?”
“It had better be fast. Hopefully, once the hunters have set off and had the chance to get away from
the castle.” Delaney sucked in a breath. “Okay, tell Ahsan to hide. Take his tracker. Take all the
armour for yourself. Norbury mentioned giving all three of you a backpack with water and snacks.
The tracker will probably be in there.”
Tag tipped his head back and laughed and almost choked on the mouthful of water he swallowed.
“Sandwiches in a My Little Pony lunchbox?”
Delaney shrugged. “He wants you to run as long as you can. It’s not fun if you catch your prey too
easily.”
 “Christ. Why don’t I take our trackers and throw them in the water?”
“They’ll wonder how you found them. Who might have told you. It might not sound like it but you
have an advantage if you make them follow you uphill. You’re fast, they won’t be and once you have a
choice of direction, dump one tracker, and then later, the other. By the time they register both trackers
are stationary, you should be well away.”
Tag was scared but tried to look as if he wasn’t.
“When we’re in bed, I’m going to show you a map of the area. We can work out a route or at least
make sure you don’t head into natural danger.”
“Such as?”
“Sheer cliffs. Too great an expanse of open land. Plus, the weather is unpredictable. It might say
it’s going to be warm, but it could just as easily rain. I doubt they’ll give you raincoats, but I’ll leave
an emergency blanket with the body armour along with a phone. Whether you’ll get a signal, I don’t
know. If the helicopter has—”
“Helicopter?” Tag gulped.
“They won’t hunt you with it, but if they can’t locate you, they’ll use it to find you. The helicopter
has a thermal imaging camera, the blanket will fool it for a time. If there’s no cover and the helicopter
is coming, get under the blanket anyway.”
“What if they catch me with the stuff?”
Delaney opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“Oh right.” Tag’s shoulders slumped. They were both done for then.
“Outside of the shower, I don’t know how safe we are. Be careful.”
“Do I get to stay all night?”
“Until five. You run at six thirty.” Delaney groaned. “I wish you didn’t have to run at all.”
“But I do?”
“If they arrested all these guys on the basis of intent, clever lawyers would talk them out of
trouble, say it was just a grouse hunt. I couldn’t find anything about these hunts in the information I
took. It may be there but I’ve not been told it’s been found. I think it’s safe to assume they destroy
everything physical that could betray what they’re doing. Data, photographs, plans, timetables, maps,
shots of the countryside, pictures of the killers with their trophies.”
“And if one of us is killed before your knights rush in on their chargers, they’d claim we just got
in the way, that we’d been told to stay off the mountains and the shooting was accidental.”
“Shush.” Delaney pressed his lips to Tag’s to shut him up but Tag kissed with the same energy as
he talked and all Delaney could feel was an intense aching want, not just for sex but for Tag to survive
this.
He reached up to switch off the water. They made half-hearted attempts at drying themselves
before Tag pulled him in close, trailing his lips down Delaney’s neck, then running his tongue along
his collar bone before moving up to his ear. Something about having his ears played with tripped
switches in Delaney’s head. It was an instant overload of sensation.
Somehow, they made it to the bed and much as Delaney wanted to be inside him, he also wanted
Tag’s tender touches and his little smiles. Delaney dragged his tongue over Tag’s body, around his
nipples until he squirmed, then over the bumps of his ribs, the hard bones of his hips and down to his
cock. The moment he took Tag into his mouth, Tag cried out. He was still talking, muttering nothing,
muttering everything as Delaney wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock and teased him with
flicks and licks and whisper-soft kisses. When do I ever do this?
He knew he should be shouting at Tag, pretending to abuse him but he couldn’t bring himself to do
it.
“Stop hurting me,” Tag called, as if he’d guessed what Delaney was thinking.
“Stop fighting.”
“Want to come with you inside me,” Tag whispered.
“You can come again after. You young.” He used Vadim’s voice but his own words, then sucked
Tag to a wailing mess, Tag’s trembling fingers curled in Delaney’s hair while Delaney swallowed
every drop of Tag’s release.
When Tag had his breath back, he smiled and whispered, “Make me come again.”
Tag found the lube and a condom and when his shaky fingers struggled to open the lube, Delaney
took it from him and flicked up the cap. Once his hand was wet, Delaney slid a finger inside him and
Tag made a soft sound that changed to ragged sobs and pleas as Delaney moved his finger in and out.
“Oh God,” Tag whispered. “Please, please.”
As Delaney pushed his finger deeper and kissed him, Tag’s words spilled into his mouth. “Please,
please, please.”
Two fingers and Tag was holding onto him as if he was about to get swept away in an avalanche.
Delaney’s tongue surged in the same rhythm as his fingers, fucking Tag’s mouth and when he turned
two fingers into three, Tag grabbed his wrist.
“More,” Tag urged, in case Delaney hadn’t got the message.
He had. He exchanged fingers for cock, rolled Tag over and slid in him up to the hilt, the tight
hold of Tag’s muscles making him groan. Then he pulled all the way out.
Tag twisted his head to look back at him. “What?”
Delaney laughed at the annoyed expression on Tag’s face, leaned over to kiss him and thrust back
in. When he withdrew again, Tag began to hump the bed. Delaney put his hands on Tag’s hips and held
him down as he began to work him. Why was it that the moment it felt so good, he was already
dreading it ending? Only a few days without him and Delaney felt as if he’d been deprived of oxygen.
He slid his hands up to Tag’s shoulders and held him down as he powered into him. Tag let out a
shuddering wail at the slight shift in position. Delaney drove in long and hard until the need to come
began to overwhelm him.
Delaney slid his hand under Tag and wrapped his fist around his dick. Tag cried out and the splash
of warmth on his fingers brought Delaney off too, one orgasm feeding the other, and even though Tag
had come not long ago, Delaney felt the contractions of his body match his.
Finally, Delaney collapsed at his side.
It was Tag who got up and cleaned him off, got rid of the condom and climbed back into bed with
him.
“What’s happening tomorrow?” Tag asked and winked at him.
“Fun time, little shit.”
“Am I going to enjoy it?”
Delaney closed his eyes for a moment. “I make sure you do. Now shut mouth and sleep.”
Once Delaney could move again, he reached for his phone and pulled the covers over their head.
He pulled up an ordnance survey map of the area and pointed out the position of the castle.
“No point running along the road in either direction. They’d catch you. I’m pretty sure you’ll be
stopped from taking those routes anyway. They’d expect you to run along here, out past the helipad, or
maybe this way, to the left at the back of the castle. You’d be staying close to the road and the hills are
less steep. But this is the best route. Around the loch and up. Hard work but you’re a good runner.”
He traced it with his finger, then got Tag to talk him back over it.
 “What about my footwear?” Tag asked. “I still have the fell running shoes you bought me but the
others have the tracker.”
“The fell shoes. The others offer no grip and you’re going to be running over rough terrain. I’ll
find you without the tracker. Worst case scenario, you get to a high point and look for the loch. Put on
an extra sweater if you have one. Assume it’s going to be cold. I’ll try and keep everyone in the
drawing room after you’ve left the house.”
Delaney stroked Tag’s cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Guess what? Neither do I.” Tag gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Me and Ahsan could run
tonight. Get a head start.”
“They’d send up the helicopter, catch you in an instant.”
“What’s going to stop them doing that straightaway tomorrow?”
“The hunt is part of the deal. Otherwise, they could have just stuck you outside and shot you. If
Ahsan hides, you have to take his tracker or they’ll find him. They won’t expect you to be looking for
it, so hopefully, it will be easy to spot in the backpack. Possibly under the base board if there is one,
or in a small pocket. If you can’t find it, take his backpack.”
“How am I going to know when it’s safe to come back?”
“I’ll light a fire. You’ll see the smoke.”
“Will you flap a blanket over it? Because what if it’s them making a fire ready to cook us?”
Oh fuck.
“I was joking.”
“Christ. I wish you hadn’t said that.”
“I talk too much when I’m frightened.”
“You talk too much anyway.” Delaney kissed him.
“I notice you’re no longer promising not to let anyone hurt me.”
When Delaney opened his mouth, Tag put his finger over his lips.
“I know you’ll do your best. Send me back to my room. We both need to sleep.”
“I can’t help thinking there’s something else I should have told you. Bullets ricocheting off rocks
are a sign that you’re in range. Run and change directions fast.”
Tag took a deep breath. “Okay. Make me leave.”
Delaney nodded and threw back the covers. “Fuck off now, liubymiy. I need sleep. You too
distracting.”
Tag climbed out of bed and left the room without looking back.
If this goes wrong, I am going to kill Barker.

Kareem was sitting at the end of the hallway when Tag left the room. He kept up the pretence of
being used hard and winced as he walked past him to get to the room he shared with Ahsan. Kareem
followed him every step of the way, breathing on his back, but he didn’t touch him. He unlocked the
door and locked it again when Tag was inside. Tag had a quick shower before he climbed into bed
with Ahsan, and though he was careful, Ahsan woke.
“Are you all right?” Ahsan whispered and clutched Tag’s hand.
“Yes. Are you?”
“No one touched me.”
“Good. Go back to sleep.”
“Did you find out what’s happening tomorrow?”
Again, decision time, but Tag couldn’t take the risk. “No, but I’m pretty sure it’s something bad.”
 “What sort of bad?”
“They’re not going to be nice to us. I think we need to be ready for that.”
“How can we be ready?”
“Remember we talked about those boards in the barn?”
“Yes.”
“I think we need to hide. These guests won’t hang around if we’ve disappeared.”
“But as we were leaving the drawing room, I heard that American say ‘if I was gay.’”
“It might not be sex they want from us.”
“What else?”
“Pain?”
It was as far as Tag dare go.
“Shit.”
“Try to sleep. The door’s locked. We can’t get out. Kareem is on guard. We’re too high to jump or
even tie bedsheets together.”
Ahsan slipped his hand into Tag’s. It didn’t seem long before Ahsan was quietly snoring. Tag
didn’t think he’d sleep but the next thing he knew, Lincoln was shaking him.
“Wake up. Shower. Get dressed. Put on the clothes I’ve laid out for you. Ahsan’s are on the left.
Breakfast is on the table.”
Tag let Ahsan use the bathroom first. He took his clothes and shoes with him. Ahsan looked so
miserable that Tag worried he’d give something away. Not that Tag had told him anything to give
away. He glanced at the clothes. His Converse were there and Tag looked for his fell runners, then
swapped them.
No way was Tag wearing a white T-shirt. It wasn’t his anyway. But Lincoln stopped him
swapping it. It wasn’t good news that Lincoln also wore a white T-shirt.
When Ahsan came out wearing one too, Tag whispered, “You need a dark top. Spill something.”
Tag didn’t linger in the shower. He couldn’t delay the inevitable. He came out wearing a sweater.
Under that he had the white T-shirt, and a long-sleeved grey one beneath that.
“You’re supposed to be wearing the T-shirt,” Lincoln said.
Tag tugged the white material down from underneath to show him. “I am. See?”
“Shit!”
They both turned at Ahsan’s exclamation. He’d spilt his coffee and he whisked the T-shirt over his
head and rubbed at his reddening chest.
Lincoln looked between them, frowned, then shrugged. Tag wondered if he’d make the jump but
he didn’t. Ahsan pulled out a black T-shirt and a dark fleece.
“It’s not that cold,” Lincoln said.
“Maybe I’m sickening for something.” Ahsan coughed.

When Lincoln led them into the drawing room, all the men who’d arrived the previous day were
in there, dressed in camouflage clothing, some of them drinking alcohol. At this time in the morning?
Tag slipped his hand into Ahsan’s. On the coffee table were three small backpacks. In front of each
were several items. A large bottle of water, a three-pack of Mars Bars, a packet of sandwiches, a
compass, gloves, a red beanie, penknife and sunglasses.
Tag didn’t look for Delaney. He kept his gaze down. What if they had to choose what to take?
Four items? Delaney had said Norbury liked even numbers. But he was going to make three of them
run, though he probably didn’t care about the three of them being lucky, so maybe three items. What
should I choose?
“Gentlemen, the three of you are going for a run,” Norbury said. “Six of us are going to chase you.
You can choose three items from the pile and put them in your backpack. Do it now.”
Tag let go of Ahsan and moved forward. He chose the water, the chocolate and the gloves. He put
each item in carefully, feeling round to see if he could find the tracker. He couldn’t. Ahsan chose the
same as him. Lincoln just stood there.
“What’s going on?” Lincoln demanded. “Why am I being involved in this?”
“Choose three items, or they’ll be chosen for you,” Norbury snapped.
“This isn’t part of my job. If you no longer need my services, I’ll leave.”
“Do as you’re told.” Feely had come up behind him with a gun.
Ahsan yipped in distress.
Lincoln picked the penknife, compass and water, and put them in the backpack. His face was
white. “I don’t understand,” he mumbled.
“You did not do your job well. You weren’t paid to fuck around with my pups and now you’ve
messed up my plans.” Norbury shrugged. “So you pay the price.”
“I think Lincoln should have a sweater to make things fair,” Feely said and nodded at Kareem
who took off his own sweater and offered it to Lincoln.
“You’ll get a thirty-minute head start.” Norbury smiled at each of them in turn. “Then my guests
will be hunting you. Armed, in case you’re wondering.”
Tag jolted along with Ahsan. He didn’t have to pretend to be shocked. Hearing Norbury say it
made it real.
“Hunting?” Lincoln’s eyes were wide.
“Yes.” Norbury nodded, no smile now.
“I don’t understand.” Lincoln looked round but no one here was going to help him.
“You two are very quiet,” the Frenchman said.
Tag and Ahsan stood pressed together.
“Shock,” someone called out and laughed.
“Maybe you better tell them again.” That was Delaney. “Explain. Maybe not sink into tiny brains.”
“This is fucked up.” Tag blurted. “That’s what you lot are. Sick fucks. And it’s even more one-
sided if you see which way we’re heading. Call yourselves hunters, you wankers? How about giving
us guns too?”
That caused much amusement.
“We need to split up,” Tag said in a whisper that he intended to be overheard by everyone.
“Makes it harder for them.”
“This isn’t right.” Lincoln was still in denial. “You can’t hunt people. I’m not doing this.”
“Then you’ll be shot anyway,” Norbury said. “We’re giving you a chance to get away. If we
haven’t found you by tonight, you can come back here and I’ll give you a reward.”
Tag could guess what that reward would be. No way would Norbury risk anyone talking about
this.
“Little shit right,” Delaney said. “More obstacles is better. More fun. Draw curtain. No asking
staff which way they go. We should spot anyway. We have radios. Can tell each other. Make this more
of challenge.”
There were a few grumbles, but the curtains were drawn.
“Ready, steady, go,” Norbury said.
Tag grabbed the backpacks, took Ahsan’s hand and ran. Lincoln was still arguing as they left the
house. They sprinted to the barn. Once inside, Tag put a ladder up to where the wood was laid. Then
he emptied Ahsan’s backpack. The tracker was stuck under the plastic base and Tag pocketed it. Did
they all do the same fucking thing? He stuffed everything back inside and handed it to Ahsan.
The moment Ahsan was lying on the wood, Tag put the ladder back in its original place.
“What are you doing?” Ahsan whispered.
“I’ll find somewhere else. Stay low. Don’t make a sound. Don’t die. Rafiq is waiting for you.”
Then he ran.
Tag spotted Lincoln sprinting up the road as he ran down to the loch. The things were where
Delaney had said they’d be and Tag pushed them into the backpack. As he ran, he took off his sweater
and the white T-shirt, leaving the grey one beneath, and pushed them into the backpack as well. He
wasn’t hot yet, but he soon would be. All that had taken no more than five minutes from when he’d left
the drawing room. But he had to move faster.
He was almost at the top of a steep hill when he felt he’d used up his time. He just needed to get
over the top before he threw Ahsan’s tracker. He put on a final sprint and flung himself over the lip.
He donned the body armour before replacing his T-shirt. While he was at it, he pulled his tracker
from the bottom of his bag and put it in his pocket.
One swift glance down the hill showed him two men heading in the direction Lincoln had taken,
and four moving towards him. Tag dropped down the hill so that he’d be out of sight when he stood,
then he threw Ahsan’s tracker as far as he could before he ran in the opposite direction. He’d get rid
of his tracker too once he’d found another high spot.
Running in the body armour used more energy but it didn’t interfere with his natural rhythm,
though he wasn’t used to running with weight on his back. Sometimes in London, he’d carry a bottle
of water, but that was all. The plan was to use the cover of a rocky outcrop to get to the top of the next
hill. He’d lose the tracker there, then drop down into the valley before tackling the next hill. He had
youth and stamina on his side, but what use were they against guns that could fire over long distances?
When were the good guys going to arrive?
 18
Tag was already having doubts about what he saw ahead of him. Scrambling up boulders was one
thing, but he had no climbing experience. If he changed the route, he risked being seen, but keep on
this path and he’d have to scale what looked like an impossibly steep rocky crag. He didn’t think he
could scale it. He cut off on a diagonal, hoping to find an easier way. When he stumbled across a
sheep trail, he sighed with relief and ran a little faster.
There were ferns and bracken around him, swathes of purple heather set in a landscape of
boulders. It was a wild place, a little like Wales, but on a much bigger scale. Tag wished he could
find it beautiful, but it might be the place where he died. When the sheep track headed down, Tag
turned uphill through the bracken. Pretty soon he was away from undergrowth and onto rough
grassland. He kept going up, looking over his shoulder every now and again. No one in view yet, but
he was protected by the previous hill he’d climbed.
When he reached the top, he crawled over the lip and sheltered behind a large rock. He left his
tracker there and had a drink of water before he moved on. The sea glistened in the distance. Oh God.
Would he ever be near the sea again? He ran diagonally downhill. The next slope was some distance
away and he needed to cross the valley floor and get uphill before those following saw him. Speed
was essential but he still had to be careful because one slip could be the end. He jumped over holes
and rocks, always moving forward. He felt okay, not too out of breath. When he reached the top of the
next slope, which seemed really high, he’d reward himself with another drink.
Even as he ran, he kept thinking how crazy this all was. Then he heard a gunshot echoing and
dropped to the ground. He didn’t stay there, but scrambled onwards, because that bullet hadn’t been
aimed at him. The sound was too far away. He hadn’t been seen, not yet. When he reached the bottom
of the hill, he saw that beyond the ferns, there was another rocky outcrop looming above him, though
it looked less steep than the one he’d avoided before. Tag reconciled himself to climbing it and
carried on.
He didn’t like the look of it when he got there, though he still hauled himself up, clinging tight to
the rock face as if it was going to keep him safe. Don’t look down or back. Don’t think about how
dangerous this is. Don’t slip. Yet would I rather be shot than fall? If he broke his leg or his back,
death would come slowly then. The armour he was wearing would only protect him from a hit in the
back or chest. Maybe not even then. He guessed that these hunters wouldn’t go for a headshot when
they were firing from a distance, but what did he know?
Tag was almost surprised when he slid over the top of the rock. For a moment, he lay there,
breathing heavily, relieved to have made it. When he looked back, he could see the loch, the castle
and four men coming in his direction. His heart thumped. Should he have got rid of the tracker
sooner? Or maybe they were going for Ahsan’s tracker.
He took another glance. They were definitely heading left. That was good. He heard another
gunshot ring out, then another and another. But none of the four were firing. Was Lincoln dead? Please
don’t let them have found Ahsan.
Tag had a drink of water, then looked around. He was already unsure if he was following the route
Delaney had shown him. Everything looked different out here. He crawled until he knew he’d be out
of sight, then he stood up and ran again heading for a slope that was a jumble of rocks and boulders.
He’d climb to the ridgeline, then see where to go from there.
It wasn’t long before he was having to ascend using his hands. He paused to put on the gloves and
heard the sound of a helicopter. Fuck! But when he glanced into the sky, it was heading away from
him. Tag raced up the hill, grabbing for rocks rather than stones, propelling himself up like a speed
climber because the helicopter could turn and see him at any moment.
He was breathing fast but he maintained a good pace. He was covering more ground than if he’d
stayed on just his feet. He almost came a cropper when the ground suddenly fell into a dip but he
skirted round and continued up. The top was no more than twenty metres away and he just hoped that
what lay beyond was something he could get down and not a sheer drop.
When he heard the helicopter coming, he froze. He was in the shelter of a large boulder but if they
approached from the other side, they’d see him. Tag yanked the emergency blanket out of the backpack
and crawled underneath it. If they didn’t come too low, maybe it would be enough and they’d be
fooled by the camouflage pattern. The sound of the engine was terrifying. But they weren’t hovering
over him because there was no downdraft. The moment the noise began to fade, he screwed up the
blanket, stuffed it in the pack and carried on.
Just before he reached the ridgeline, he glanced back, and could still see the four coming his way.
They were too far away for him to see which was Delaney. Then a gunshot sounded, louder than the
ones he’d heard before and he scrambled on. He hadn’t heard a bullet strike anywhere. What came
first, the bullet striking or the sound of the gun going off? If the bullet hit his head, he wouldn’t be
alive to hear the boom. The next bullet only just missed him. It ricocheted off a rock to his left,
spitting stone fragments into his face. Tag threw himself over the top. They knew where he was. They
could shoot him from a far greater distance than he’d realised. His only advantage was that they had a
long climb now to get to a point where they could see him again.
He was soaked with sweat, wanted a drink, but it would have to wait. When he looked at what lay
ahead, he groaned. It was a slope of small, loose rocks, like pieces of a giant’s jigsaw puzzle. He’d
seen something like it in Wales, a scree slope, though that had been slate, and Delaney had told him it
was dangerous. What choice did he have? He started to run diagonally across. The stones shifted
under his feet but he kept going, his arms out for balance, leaning slightly back and digging his heels
in as he went.
Then everything started moving, the rocks he stepped on sliding to push others down and all Tag
could do was keep going. If he stopped, he’d get dragged down with them. The stones flowed like a
river and Tag moved with them, half-running, half-sliding but still crossing on the diagonal. His steps
got longer and faster and the flow of rocks continued, pouring downhill.
He couldn’t fall. He just couldn’t. The faster he ran, the longer his steps, the safer he was.
Stopping now would be a disaster. He was being carried down the slope anyway, but in a direction of
his choosing. The noise was really loud. If they hadn’t already known which way he was heading,
they would now. As the rocks became larger and weren’t moving under his feet, he stopped running
and covered the last part of the slope more carefully. When he reached cover, he crouched down and
looked back.
As the dust cleared, he could see some of the slope was still sliding. He’d managed to get quite a
long way. Further than he’d thought. He took a drink and set off again. Once he was over the next lip,
they wouldn’t be able to see him. He kept going, trying not to think about the way terror was freezing
him from the inside out.

Delaney had set off with Jeremy, Feely and Matt. Alec and Yves had chosen to go after Lincoln.
The bad news was that the three with Delaney were fit individuals. Not as fit as him, but even so.
Jeremy was the weakest but he’d still kept up with the pace.
 “Which way?” Jeremy asked.
They looked up at the range of hills in front of them.
Feely took out his phone. “They have trackers in their backpacks. Just think of it as them leaving a
trail of blood.”
“So which fucking way?” Matt asked.
“Straight up there.” Feely pointed.
They set off with Matt in the lead. Delaney stayed at the rear. Matt set a fast pace and they moved
more quickly than Delaney had expected. They were halfway up the first slope when a shot rang out.
The middle two ducked. Delaney smiled.
Matt turned round. “That was quick. One down, two to go.”
When a little later, three more shots echoed around them, Matt laughed. “Guess they missed.”
At the top of the first slope, Feely checked his phone again. “One of the trackers hasn’t shown any
movement.”
“Maybe they found it,” Jeremy suggested.
“Or the target fell.” The American looked over Feely’s shoulder at the screen. “The other is still
moving. Might as well ignore the static one.”
“Could be hiding. Be easy target.” Delaney wanted the group split up.
“Or they dumped the backpack,” Matt said. “I vote we follow the one who’s still moving.”
Shit.
They carried on. They were walking fast but not running and Delaney hoped Tag was miles away,
though they’d cut off some of the route that he’d told Tag to take.
Delaney caught sight of him almost at the top of a hill on their right. Well over a mile away. He
hoped none of the others would spot him but the American was already taking out his rifle. Jeremy
removed his from his carry bag too.
“My shot first,” Matt said. “I was the one to spot him.”
Delaney was considering how to distract him when Jeremy did it for him.
“What the bloody hell are you firing?” the guy said just as Matt was about to pull the trigger.
Matt’s Barrett M82 didn’t have the range to hit Tag, but it didn’t stop him trying, or Jeremy with
his Winchester. When Tag slipped out of sight, Matt stepped aggressively into Jeremy’s space.
“You don’t fucking talk when someone is about to pull the trigger. Fucking amateur.”
“Hey, chill. Okay? You took me by surprise. Are they even legal over here?”
Delaney hoped they’d stand and have a lengthy chat about firearms but they didn’t. One thing he
could do was take the lead to slow everyone down, but not to the point that they decided to overtake
him.
At the top of the next ridge, Feely sighed. “The other tracker is immobile now.”
“So they dumped them and split up,” Matt said. “Shit. You were right, Vadim. Someone should
have gone after the other.”
“Why don’t we split up now,” Delaney suggested.
“I want this fucker,” Matt said.
Jeremy shrugged. “I’ll go back for the other. I’ve got his last position.”
Feely looked at Delaney.
“I keep going,” Delaney said.
“Me too.” Feely took out his radio. “I’ll call for the helicopter to see if they can give us a visual
on either of them.”
“I’m not waiting.” Matt carried on and Delaney went with him.
 “Why didn’t you take a shot?” Matt asked.
“Waste of ammunition. I wouldn’t have hit him.”
Matt chuckled and took over the lead.
By the time they heard the helicopter, Feely was back with them, slightly out of breath. Matt kept
walking up the slope. That the helicopter had taken to the air meant that Henry and the team weren’t
yet in position and Delaney was more than annoyed. It was likely that Lincoln was dead. What more
evidence did they need?
“They should have used drones,” Delaney said to Matt’s back.
“Yeah.” Matt stopped and turned to Feely who was on the radio. “Well?”
“They thought they caught a glimpse of someone near the top of the next ridge.”
“Thought?” Matt muttered. “Jesus! Now the pilots are fucking amateurs, too?”

When the three of them were faced with a slope of small stones, the American said, “One or both
of them came this way. See the disturbance? Looks like one person.”
Delaney saw no point in disagreeing. “Yes.” To follow the same path would be dangerous. To go
last would be dangerous, but if he went first, he’d be showing them the technique to traverse this type
of terrain.
In the end, Feely went first and Delaney knew he was going to get into trouble. He needed to go
with the flow and not fight it, but Feely was trying to slow down and the slope wouldn’t let him.
“Go across,” Matt shouted. “Not down. And run.”
Delaney had hoped for the slope to swallow Feely’s feet and ankles and break them. Matt
launched himself across and sent more rocks cascading down towards Feely who was knocked off his
feet.
Delaney didn’t wait to see if he was going to make it. He set off higher where the rocks were
undisturbed and stayed high. By the time he joined Matt, Feely was crab-walking towards them and
finally got off the slope. Delaney was amazed he’d not broken bones.
“Shit.” Feely was breathing heavily. “I really want this fucker dead.”
Matt laughed. “Better hope you spot him first.”

Still three of them in pursuit, but Feely was slow and limping. Delaney and Matt were several
hundred metres ahead.
“We could do with knowing if we go in right direction,” Delaney said. “Why don’t we take break
and ask him to call for helicopter?”
“Okay.”
Delaney drank from his bottle and ate the sandwiches that they’d been given. Slowly. Matt sat at
his side and did the same. Not slowly.
“What’s your background?” Matt asked.
“Spetsnaz.”
“Russian Special Forces?” Matt twisted his mouth.
“No longer, of course. You?”
“Ex-military like you. And we’re with a team of hopeless amateurs.”
“You must have already killed men just as I have.”
“Yeah, but pursuing one who knows you’re after him? I bet he’s shitting himself. I’m surprised
he’s managed to get this far ahead. They should have only given them fifteen minutes’ head start.”
Feely reached their side and took out his water.
 “Call the copter,” Matt said. “Let them find him for us.”
“Let me have a drink first.”
When there was no response to Feely’s call, Delaney really hoped that meant those at the castle
had been incapacitated.
“Let me try my radio.” Matt took his out and a moment later, he swore.
“We out of range. We get back in range.” Delaney shrugged. “Want to split up?”
“No,” chorused Matt and Feely.
“He went this way, so we keep going,” Matt said. “Top of the next hill should give us a good
view.”

Tag was tired but he couldn’t stop moving. He had no idea how long he’d been out here but he
thought it was mid-afternoon. He could die without even getting shot. Slip, bang his head, break a leg,
run out of water or just get lost. He was already lost. He had the phone, but maybe there’d be no
signal when he felt it was safe to use it. He hid when he heard the helicopter again, then found another
sheep trail and followed it down, partly because he wasn’t sure how many more hills he could climb.
These hills went on forever. Except that was what he had to do. Keep going forever.
He ran up the next hill he came to, scrambling when he couldn’t run. As he reached the top, he
flattened to get over the lip, then stood when he was out of sight. He took a deep breath. There was no
sea in the distance now. How had he managed that? Maybe he’d somehow turned himself round.
There was no sun in the sky to give him a clue. Tag saw a glint, a tiny flicker of light, then oofed as he
found himself falling. His chest felt like it had been hit with a hammer, all the air rushed out of his
lungs and his vision faltered. It was a moment before he registered he’d been shot. Fuck.
Tag lay awkwardly on his back looking up into the sky. It was huge. Why was he thinking that
when he was struggling to suck in air. What’s happened to my lungs? He touched his chest with
shaking fingers, felt the rip in the T-shirt and when he put his finger inside and touched the body
armour, there was hole there too and something felt wet and sticky. Oh God. When he touched warm
metal, he realised the bullet had penetrated the vest and was sticking into his chest, he almost freaked
out. You’re not dead! Stop panicking. Tag tugged at the bullet and pulled it out. He was too freaked
out to take in what he was doing, but pain snapped him back to reality. He hurt and he was exhausted.
They were probably running towards him but he had to just take a moment to pull himself together.
He wasn’t bleeding out. The vest had done its job. You’ve had your moment. Get up. Tag put the
bullet in his pocket. Hopefully he’d live long enough to make it a souvenir. He rolled over, crawled
away, then slid back over the hill he’d come up because that shot had come from the other direction.
But when he tried to push himself up, he couldn’t. He felt like he’d been knocked down by a car, but
he had to get up, move, get out of there or he’d die. He forced himself upright and looked round.
Walking hurt, so how could he run? His ribs were killing him. His whole body ached. He spotted
an outcrop of rocks that might offer shelter, but continuing to move away as quickly as he could was
probably the best protection. A moving target was harder to hit. Fuck! My ribs!
But as he reached the rocks, he tripped and went sprawling. A split second later, he heard a
gunshot. Had that missed him because he’d tripped? Why wasn’t Delaney helping him? Tag curled up.
Maybe now was the time to use the phone. While he was finding it, he could have one of those Mars
Bars. Something sweet on his lips… Except he couldn’t move. There was no more adrenaline. He just
had to lie where he was.
A flurry of shots made him flinch, but they’d either missed or had not been fired at him. Tag
closed his eyes. He was beyond exhausted. He wished that voice in his head nagging at him to get up
would just shut it! He didn’t even have the energy to get out the phone. For fuck’s sake! Where was
Delaney? Maybe they’d realised Delaney was trying to help him and one of those shots… No! Tag
opened his eyes again. That wasn’t the way to get out of this. He had to stay positive and do
something. Move for a start.
When he heard the helicopter again, his heart jumped into his throat. He pulled the emergency
blanket out of the backpack and tucked himself underneath it, biting back tears at the pain. He heard
the aircraft pass overhead and continue on and he heaved a painful sigh of relief. My ribs! The
slightest effort hurt. When the noise from the helicopter didn’t completely fade, Tag thought it might be
hovering somewhere.
He came out from under the blanket, levered himself up and climbed back to the top of the rock
but kept low. In the distance he could see someone being loaded into a red stretcher. Then it was
raised up into the helicopter. Is that Delaney? I’m dead if it is. A few moments later, the stretcher
came down again and another person was taken up. Just one man was left standing. Tag frowned. That
wasn’t the same aircraft as before. This was one bigger, but he couldn’t be sure that meant this was
all over.
Tag took the phone from the backpack, but there was no signal. Shit. He watched the direction the
helicopter took and decided to go that way. He couldn’t run. But he could walk. He went back to get
the blanket and stuffed it into the bag.
“Tag!”
The call was faint but it stopped Tag in his tracks. Delaney? When Tag’s name was called again,
he was sure it was Delaney’s voice. He climbed up onto the ridge line and saw Delaney heading
towards him, carrying his rifle. Tag wanted it to be like one of those moments in a film when the
romantic leads run towards one another, but even in slow motion, he couldn’t run anywhere. He half-
staggered in Delaney’s direction, but had to turn to climb down a steep section of rock. He was
almost at the bottom when he felt a thump high on his back. Bloody hell! Tag went down and heard
what he thought had to be Delaney firing and someone firing back.
His neck felt wet and Tag shuddered. Had the bullet missed the vest and hit him? This wasn’t the
ending he’d wanted.
The firing stopped and a few moments later, Delaney dropped down at his side.
“I’m hit,” Tag said. “It hurts.”
Delaney put down his rifle and checked him out. “It’s water.”
Tag sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?”
Delaney managed a smile. “It’s not red.”
“Then get the Mars Bars out of my backpack. I need one.”
Delaney bit his lip when he saw the hole in the front of Tag’s T-shirt.
“That is blood,” Tag said. “I put the bullet in my pocket.”
“Oh fuck. I thought… I thought he’d missed. Shit. Shit!”
“It’s okay. I’m okay.” Tag touched his hand and Delaney pulled away.
“I have to go and check the guy I shot. You okay for a minute?”
“Yes. Be careful.”
Delaney pulled out the Mars Bars, handed him the packet, then went off with his rifle. Tag ripped
open a bar, took a bite of the chocolate and groaned. His mouth watered as he chewed. He was
partway through the second one when Delaney came back carrying two rifles. He sat next to Tag and
made a call.
 “Henry,” Delaney said. “The Frenchman is hit in the shoulder. Can you send the chopper? I have
Tag with me. Out.”
“Is it over?” Tag asked.
Delaney nodded.
“Is Ahsan okay?”
“Yes. Everyone’s in custody. Or dead.”
“Who’s dead?”
“Lincoln.”
“I’m not going to pretend to be sorry.”
“Can you make it over to the injured guy?”
“Yes.”
Delaney helped him to his feet and they walked across to where the Frenchman was lying. Tag
took his white T-shirt out of his backpack and pressed it on the guy’s bloody shoulder.
He groaned, opened his eyes and gave a short laugh. “Bang. You’re dead.”
“Get away from him,” Delaney said.
Tag stood and backed away.
“How could I miss?” the French guy asked.
“You didn’t,” Tag said.
“You were wearing body armour? Merde!”
The sound of an approaching helicopter filled the air and Tag shaded his eyes as dust began to
swirl. The injured guy was taken up first, then a crewman came down for Tag. Even though he was in
a harness, it was still scary and it hurt. Tag was glad when he was in the body of the helicopter and
even more relieved when Delaney was sitting next to him.
“You did really well,” Delaney said to him.
Tag started the third Mars Bar. He offered Delaney a bite, then glared when he took one.
Delaney smiled. “I’ve got three in my backpack. You can have all of them.”
Tag rested his head against him, relieved when Delaney let him. “This has been the longest day of
my life and I think that bullet broke my ribs.”
“You took a risk with your lover,” the Frenchman said to Delaney from the stretcher. “Not one I’d
have taken.”
“Yeah, well he’s worth it,” Tag said and felt Delaney laugh.

Tag and Delaney were dropped at the castle, then the helicopter took off again.
“Wow, look at all the police cars,” Tag said. “So do you work for the police?”
“Not exactly.”
He’ll never tell me. The gulf between them seemed to be getting wider and wider.
As they walked into the building, Tag felt so light-headed, he almost fell. “Can this body armour
come off now? Not sure I have the energy to lift my arms. Maybe you could cut off the T-shirt?”
“Come and sit in the drawing room.”
Delaney took out a knife and sliced down the front, then peeled away the material. When he
removed the vest, Tag bit his lip against the pain.
“Shit,” Delaney said.
“No, you’re not allowed to say shit. You have to say—that little bruise? It’s nothing. Don’t be a
baby. God, I knew I could find a way to get you to call me baby. Getting shot in the chest is definitely
it.”
 “Let me go and get the first aid kit. I think we need to amputate.”
Tag laughed and groaned in pain. “What are you going to amputate? My chest?”
“You need to go to hospital. I should have sent you with the Frenchman.”
“I don’t want to go to hospital. I want to stay with you.”
“Let me look at your back.”
Tag turned and screwed up his face in pain when Delaney couldn’t see. I feel so ill.
“Shit.”
“Not again.” Tag tried to make himself sound brighter than he felt. “You’re not very reassuring.
Good thing you’re not a doctor. Can you imagine? Guy comes in with his leg hanging off and you say
shit.”
Ahsan came rushing in and stopped abruptly when he saw Tag’s chest. “They want— Shit! You got
shot?”
“No, well yes, but I was wearing body armour.”
“Someone wants to speak to you,” Ahsan told Delaney, then dropped down next to Tag.
“You okay for a while?” Delaney asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll look after him,” Ahsan said.
After Delaney had gone, Ahsan grabbed Tag’s hand. “What happened? No one will tell me
anything.”
“I’m not sure I’m supposed to either. Not that I know everything.”
“You know about Rafiq,” Ahsan said. “After you left this morning, that was all I could think
about. How do you know him?”
“I don’t have the energy for the whole story, but he’s at your place in Scotland.”
Ahsan gasped.
“There’s a phone in my backpack. Do you know his number?”
“Yes.”
“We have your diamonds safe too. At least, I think they’re safe. I made animals out of air-drying
clay and put the diamonds inside.”
“You work for the police?” Ahsan picked up Tag’s backpack.
“No. I don’t have a job. I sort of got trawled into this one.”
“The phone’s wet,” Ahsan said.
“The bottle of water got shot as well. Didn’t survive.”
Ahsan squeezed his hand. “Tag!”
He leaned back into the couch. Even taking little shallow breaths hurt. Had to just be broken ribs.
He felt so tired.
Ahsan tapped in the number. He managed one word—Hobi, then burst into tears. He pushed the
phone towards Tag who winced as he lifted it to his mouth. “Rafiq, it’s Tag. Ahsan is safe.
Everything’s over—I hope.”
“Where is he?” Rafiq was crying.
“Scotland. I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you where.”
“I need to be with him.”
“When things are sorted, he can phone you again. Here, I’ll let you talk to him. He’s calmer now.”
He wasn’t really, but Tag was finding it hard to talk. He passed the phone over and lay back
again. He eventually found a way to settle on the couch that didn’t hurt too much and closed his eyes.
Was that it then? Everyone arrested? The danger gone? If there was no need for Delaney to look after
him anymore, then… Tag pressed his lips together. He had the horrible suspicion he was going to get
dumped back in London. Delaney would probably give him some money if no one else did, but that
would be it. Tag would be looking for a job again and life would restart.
Shit. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t think it was what Delaney wanted either. Not deep
down. But he was so determined to stay unattached—detached, that Tag wasn’t sure he could break
through Delaney’s protective shell.
He pushed himself to his feet, just managing not to cry out, and staggered out of the room. He
could hear voices coming from somewhere and one of them was Delaney’s, but Tag slowly made his
way upstairs to find the bedroom he’d slept in. He packed his stuff, not that there was much of it, but
he wanted to keep his jacket. Though maybe he’d just lie down for a while first. He definitely
couldn’t put on a T-shirt yet. He crawled onto the bed and went out like a light.
 19
Delaney was pissed off about leaving Tag. Henry and Barker should have been able to handle
things without him but apparently Barker hadn’t done a very good job pacifying the Scottish police,
who clearly felt they should have been involved from the start. That had never been going to happen.
And now the chief superintendent wanted to speak to Delaney. Fucking perfect.
Apart from Tag getting hurt, the results were as good as they could have hoped for. Two hunters
unhurt, and three injured who were—or soon would be—under armed guard in hospital. The injuries
weren’t life-threatening, though their lives were effectively over. They’d be put on trial and
undoubtedly spend the rest of their existence behind bars. Lincoln was the only one who’d been
killed. Shot by the Frenchman, who’d been greedy for more and followed them up the mountain, then
shot Tag in the back. Delaney was livid with himself for writing off the two who’d gone after Lincoln
—a mistake that could have led to Tag’s death. Jeremy had been picked up making his way back to the
castle, apparently protesting that he was there for grouse.
Norbury, Kareem and the rest had been arrested, as had a number at Harborne House. Henry
wanted all those involved in Scotland to be taken back to London. The Scottish police thought
otherwise. They wanted to charge them up here. The Met was insisting it was their call, as it was part
of much larger operation.
The special ops group of which Delaney was part sat between the police and MI5. He was an
NOC, an operative working under non-official cover. There were no official ties to the government or
the police, though unofficially, the ties were there. Delaney didn’t much care who took charge of
what. He’d had enough. It was time to disappear. He wanted to take Tag somewhere and look after
him. But he needed a medic to check him out first.
He finally smoothed things over with the chief superintendent and signalled to Henry that he was
leaving. He sidled out of the room and found Ahsan coming through the front door.
“Where is he?” Delaney asked.
“Don’t know. I’ve been outside talking to Rafiq.”
Delaney eventually found Tag lying on the bed next to his bag. He’d not even taken off his running
shoes. When a gentle shake didn’t wake him, nor did a harder one, Delaney ran back downstairs. If
the medics had all gone, he’d have Henry call for another helicopter. But he found a paramedic
packing equipment into a vehicle.
“I need you to come and look at someone,” Delaney said. “He was shot in the chest through body
armour and also in his shoulder. I can’t wake him.”
The paramedic grabbed his bag and hurried into the castle with Delaney.
“The bullet in his chest broke the skin but the other didn’t,” Delaney said as they ran up the stairs.
Tag moaned and woke when his chest wound was examined, but he looked dazed, his eyes
unfocused.
The medic checked his blood pressure and heart. “His heart is beating too fast. His blood
pressure’s far too low. He needs to go to hospital. It’s possible there are internal injuries.”
I should have thought. Fuck! My fault.
At least the air ambulance came quickly. Delaney had intended to go with Tag but Henry wouldn’t
let him. The Scottish police had more questions for them all, apparently. He had to be physically
restrained until they’d taken off. He was furious and done with everything. And this time he meant it.
Delaney stormed off and brought Tag’s bag downstairs to the hall along with his, then
disassembled his rifle and put it in the case.
 “You steal a car and you’re done,” Barker said behind him.
Delaney ignored him and went to find Henry.
Barker stepped in his path. “He’s busy. And you’re not getting past me.”
“Get the fuck out of my way.”
“You’ll have to wait. This isn’t your show anymore.”
“Piss off. You’re a hare’s whisker away from me hitting you.”
Barker smirked. “Go ahead. Then you’re really done.”
“Oh, I’m done anyway.” Delaney thumped him in the stomach, then drove his fist into his chin.
Barker crumpled.
Henry was still talking to the chief superintendent and now a couple of policemen from Inverness,
too, and he beckoned Delaney into the room. Two minutes later, they were done. Nothing but a fucking
pissing contest.
“Thank you, Chief Superintendent, gentlemen. We appreciate your cooperation.” Henry, ever the
diplomat, shook the policemen’s hands and they left.
“I need a car,” Delaney said.
“Why?”
“Where’s Tag been flown to?”
“Edinburgh. It’ll take you around three hours to drive there. Less than thirty minutes by
helicopter.”
Barker came in holding his stomach. “He’s fired. He just punched me.”
Henry sighed. “You don’t have the authority to fire him and you probably deserved it. Just go. The
pair of you are like children.”

Delaney flew to Edinburgh with Henry and Ahsan, who had asked Rafiq to meet him at the
helipad at Edinburgh airport. Barker stayed behind to supervise the untangling of the castle’s affairs,
and to collect information about this hunt and previous ones. Delaney wanted to forget the damn thing
had ever happened. He rarely felt guilt, but he was feeling it now.
He and Henry were able to talk privately through their headsets without Ahsan listening in.
“One thing we did discover,” Henry said. “Saad paid the American, to kill Ahsan. Spencer
inveigled an invite to join the hunt. We don’t yet have the details of how he managed that. Tag was
included because he’d run from the pony event. Feely and Norbury needed him silenced.”
“Who talked?”
“Kareem. Apparently, they knew someone had tried to get into the computer at Harborne House.”
“Rafiq tried.”
Henry nodded. “I didn’t think they’d detect your work. But they thought it was Tag.”
Delaney gritted his teeth.
“I know it doesn’t feel like it but we were lucky they had this hunt arranged, otherwise they’d
have just killed Tag once they got their hands on him, and the American would have killed Ahsan.
Ironically, Norbury taking Ahsan and bringing him up here kept him out of the American’s
crosshairs.”
“It doesn’t feel lucky for Tag.” He hadn’t forgotten that Tag had been taken from Wales by those
who were on his own side and delivered into Norbury’s hands. Delaney wasn’t a forgiving person.
“He’s a civilian. He shouldn’t have been anywhere near this.”
“I know. We will compensate him. On top of what’s already been paid.”
Delaney huffed. “He’s been offered money time after time and received none.”
 “This time it will be given to him. He asked for a charitable donation before he agreed to this,
which has already been made.”
“I was supposed…”
“What?”
“I was supposed to be keeping him safe. I barely kept him alive.”
“My goodness, Delaney. Are you developing a conscience this late in life?”
Fuck you! For a moment, Delaney didn’t trust himself to speak. I am what you made me. I didn’t
become this way all on my own. He’d told Tag virtually nothing of his background beyond joining the
military. Not even his real name, and Tag had trusted him with what happened on the worst day in his
life. Something he should never have told anyone. It didn’t matter that Delaney already knew. Tag had
told him. What if it was too late to tell Tag anything? Because Delaney owed him that. If he was
dead…
“What’s going to happen to Ahsan?” Delaney asked.
“There’s not much choice as far as I can see, but shall we ask him?”
Delaney reached to toggle the switch on Ahsan’s headphones.
“How are you feeling?” Henry asked.
“Excited to see Rafiq. Relieved to be alive. Thankful. Worried.”
“Since you disappeared, your family has been trying to find out what happened to you,” Henry
said.
Ahsan’s jaw tightened. “Have they?”
“The British Government promised the Saudi royal family that they’d look into your
disappearance,” Henry told him.
“I’m not going back to Saudi. They’d make me disappear forever.”
“You’re not safe in the UK,” Delaney said.
“Your brother, Saad, paid for you to be killed,” Henry told him. “He engaged the services of a
professional assassin to make sure it happened.”
Ahsan groaned. “What can I do? Where can we go?”
“You’re probably safe in your Scottish rental property for now,” Henry said. “We hadn’t traced
you to it, so I doubt anyone else could. But in the long term, you’d be best leaving the country.”
“You don’t need me to be a witness against them?”
“If necessary, it could be done remotely,” Henry said. “But it would have to be a closed court.
It’ll be decided what’s best over the next few days.”
“If we left the country, where could we go?”
“How about Canada or New Zealand?” Henry suggested.
Delaney wondered about the favour the British government were supposed to be doing for the
Saudis. Maybe now the truth was out, Henry was on the right side.
“We could arrange new identities,” Henry said. “Maybe you died today. Would you mind if your
family believed that?”
“No.” Ahsan didn’t even hesitate.
“They’d want his body,” Delaney said.
Ahsan nodded. “They don’t want me alive, but they’d honour me when I was dead.”
“Then maybe it’s better if you just disappear,” Henry said. “No mention of you being up here.”
“Too many people know, even if those people are going to be serving long prison sentences,”
Delaney pointed out.
“Then let me just go missing. I was in Scotland but disappeared. Rafiq has to disappear too. I
don’t want my family to get their hands on him. But we need to sell the house.”
“I have your diamonds,” Delaney said. “Rafiq tried to sell them, which set off alarms. He
couldn’t find the certification but even if he’d been able to, I suspect your brother had warned the
main dealers to be on the lookout.”
“They’re my diamonds to sell, not the family’s. When Rafiq and I were talking about where he
should go to sell them, I chose Chason’s. I’d used them before.”
“Ah, well that was a mistake,” Henry said.
Delaney thought that no matter where Rafiq had taken the diamonds, Saad would have been
informed.
“Can you arrange for us to go to Canada?”
Henry nodded. “Is that what Rafiq will want?”
“He wants to be with me. We’ve been to Canada before. We liked it there.”
“You can’t go to the same place,” Delaney said. “You’d risk being recognised.”
“It was west Canada,” Ahsan said.
“Then settle in the east,” Henry said. “Stay in the house in Scotland until we contact you. We’ll
arrange a secure means of communication. Tell Delaney your address and no one else for the time
being. Buy new phones. Be careful how you use them. No talking to old friends. They’ve gone. You
can’t even say goodbye. Don’t use your email. No presence anywhere that can be avoided. Is your
London house in your name?”
“No. Rafiq’s, but it’s a complicated arrangement.”
“We’ll help you sell it,” Henry said. “Leave no ties to the UK when you move to Canada.”
Delaney wondered if that was a possibility for him and Tag. But no country would want Tag with
his criminal record. They had to find a way around that. I could get him a new passport. But he was
assuming too much. Tag didn’t know the truth about everything yet.
The helicopter landed at Edinburgh airport. They left the pilot sorting out the refuelling and the
three of them went into the reception. Rafiq flung himself into Ahsan’s arms. A lump formed in
Delaney’s throat. I want this. But I don’t deserve it.
“Find out about Tag,” Delaney asked Henry.
He stood with his fists clenched as Henry made the call. Please, please, please.
Finally, Henry put away his phone. “Out of danger.”
Delaney nodded. He couldn’t trust himself to do more.
After Rafiq had finished hugging Ahsan, though he’d not let go of him, he shook Henry’s hand and
then Delaney’s.
“How can I ever thank you,” Rafiq said. “Anything I can do, I will.”
“Be happy and live to a ripe old age,” Henry said. “I’m going to go and get myself a drink while
Delaney outlines what you need to do to stay under the radar.”
Delaney sat in a quiet corner and went over what was proposed. The two men held hands tightly
while he was speaking.
“Should we change our appearance?” Ahsan asked when he’d done.
“I’d lose the beard,” he said to Rafiq. “Maybe one of you dye your hair. Plastic surgery is an
option but you’d have to find a surgeon who could be trusted and I’m not sure it would be worth it.
You’ll have Canadian passports and new names. I doubt either of your families will be able to find
you. Even if they discover you’re in Canada, it’s a huge country. I know you’ll have enough money not
to need to work, but I’d suggest you get some sort of job. Start a small business. A bookshop. A café.
You’ll blend in better and the Canadians will approve. You’ll be safe. You won’t need to keep
looking over your shoulder.”
“So what now?” Ahsan asked.
“Use only this phone to contact me. My number is in there. Buy burner phones and get rid of them
every so often. Be alert for anything out of the ordinary. Pack bags with essentials and have them
ready if you need to run. I know it seems extreme but I also understand the importance of family
honour in your culture.”
“What about the diamonds?” Ahsan asked. “They are our insurance. My brother will know if I try
to sell them. Then he’ll know I’m not dead.”
“He’s going to be arrested and charged with conspiracy to commit murder. It can carry a life
sentence here. Even if some deal is done, and he returns to Saudi, he’ll be held in custody for a while.
We can arrange for the diamonds to be sold. Where’s the certification?”
“Behind the boiler in our house,” Ahsan said. “Rafiq, give him a key.”
Rafiq pulled one off his key ring. “The code is 9603.”
“We’ll have all your belongings packed up and moved to a holding facility. Once you have an
address in Canada, we’ll arrange shipping. When you have your new identities, you’ll need bank
accounts and ways to spread your money around.”
“I can do all that,” Ahsan said.
“Now you have to trust me to not run off with the gems.” Delaney smiled.
“I told him he could have them if he brought you back safe,” Rafiq blurted.
“I don’t need your diamonds,” Delaney said.
Ahsan chuckled. “You are not like other men. And neither is Tag.”
“You know Tag?” Rafiq asked.
Ahsan kissed Rafiq’s cheek. “I’ve a lot to tell you. Much that you will not like to hear.”
“You’re with me now. Nothing else matters.”
It was strange the way that got under Delaney’s skin, touched something inside him. He wanted to
tell them a lot else mattered, that they were never going to feel completely safe, that they’d always be
looking over their shoulders. But maybe that wasn’t their future. Maybe there was another way.
“Do you happen to be going anywhere near the Royal Infirmary?” Delaney asked.
“We pass it,” Rafiq said.
“Give me a lift?”
Rafiq nodded.
“Let me just get my stuff.”
Delaney collected the bags, including Tag’s, and the case holding his rifle from the helicopter and
went back to the reception area where Henry was sitting.
“All okay?” Henry asked.
“Yes. They’re giving me a lift to the hospital. I’ll stay working for you until things are sorted, but
I’m done now.”
“Yes, I thought you might be.” Henry stood and held out his hand. “Give my best to Tag. I hope he
makes a swift recovery. I’ll see you in the office in a few days.”

When Rafiq pulled up outside the hospital, Delaney gathered his belongings. He bent to the open
driver’s window and said, “It wasn’t on your way, was it?”
“No, but it was the least we could do,” Ahsan said. “Please give him our best wishes. He saved
my life. I’ll never forget that.”
As Delaney walked into the hospital, his heart started to race. He wasn’t even sure what name Tag
had been admitted under, so he hesitated when he reached the reception. But when he asked for Tag
Blake, he was directed to one of the wards. He couldn’t get there fast enough.
Tag was asleep, hooked up to a drip. His chest was one massive multicoloured bruise, blue, black
and yellow, with a small white dressing over where the bullet had penetrated the armour. His face
was grazed, his arms too. He still looked beautiful to Delaney. While he was sleeping and wouldn’t
notice, Delaney leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.
He was amazed the words hadn’t lodged in his throat. No way would he have said them if Tag had
been awake. Delaney had never said that to anyone, never envisaged saying it to anyone or hearing it
from anyone. He hadn’t known he was capable of love. There had never been space in his life for
anything other than work and survival and occasional sex. This was different. Tag was different. He’d
found a way through Delaney’s armour and reached his heart.
But Tag deserved better. The longer Delaney sat on the chair next to the bed, the more convinced
he became of what he needed to do. It wouldn’t be difficult to make Tag’s future bright by transferring
money to his account, enough to allow him to buy a house, set up a pottery studio and live his dream.
He’d anticipated that Tag wouldn’t want to walk away, so Delaney would be doing it for him.
They were an odd couple. A jaded ex-assassin and a smiling kid who had enough energy in bed for
both of them. Delaney would hold him back. Tag had enough in his life to deal with without adding
someone like him into the mix.
Despite what he’d told Rafiq and Ahsan, once you’d stepped into this dark world, you could
never let your guard down. Control was everything. Control of his expression, his heart rate, the way
he moved and lived, his awareness at all times. He’d already lost control of his heart. Those who
made a mistake, mostly didn’t live long enough to make another. Tag would be his mistake.
And damn me if I don’t want to make it anyway.
Delaney looked up, saw Tag watching him and plastered a smile on his face. So much for being
aware of all things at all times.
“Oh God, am I dying?” Tag asked. “You never smile at me.”
“I do fucking smile at you.” Delaney frowned.
“Not often enough.”
Delaney couldn’t help smiling at that. Tag could work a miracle few others managed.
Tag pushed himself upright and pulled out the IV.
Delaney stood up. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You need to be in hospital.”
“I need to leave with you.”
Delaney glared.
“Yeah, that’s the face I know and l…like.” Tag swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Get my
clothes for me, please.”
Delaney went to fetch the nurse.
No amount of talk and threats persuaded Tag to stay in bed and have the IV re-inserted. He’d used
the tape that had held the drip in place to seal the hole the needle had made in his arm.
“You’re being an idiot,” Delaney told him.
“I’m fine. I don’t want to stay here. I don’t like hospitals. Please take me out of here. Please!”
Delaney recognised the desperation in his eyes.
The doctor arrived as Tag was gingerly pulling his clothes from the bedside cabinet.
“Can’t you persuade him to stay?” the doctor asked Delaney. “He can go home tomorrow.”
 “Is there anything majorly wrong with him?”
“Cracked ribs, cracked sternum. Dehydration. How did he get the wound? No one told us
anything.”
“Shot at close range with an air rifle. A stupid game gone wrong. Luckily, he was holding
something in front of his chest. The police are investigating.” Delaney hoped the doctor would buy it
without questions.
Tag had pulled on his underwear and trousers.
The doctor sighed. “Just watch him. Keep his fluids up. His injuries will heal in time. He’s
refused all painkillers, so good luck with him on that. I’ll sign him out.”
“I can’t put my shoes on and I don’t have a T-shirt,” Tag muttered.
Delaney opened Tag’s backpack, then changed his mind and took out one of his own T-shirts.
“What’s wrong with mine?” Tag said.
“Easier to get into than those stupid skin-tight things you wear.”
Tag shot him a smile, but after he’d pulled the T-shirt on, his face was white. Delaney helped with
his shoes. By the time he was on his feet, a porter had arrived with a wheelchair. Tag let himself be
pushed to the exit.
Delaney beckoned a taxi and helped Tag into the back. It was obvious he was hurting by the way
he was doing everything very carefully.
“You should have accepted the painkillers,” Delaney said.
“I don’t like taking tablets.”
“Where to?” the driver asked.
“Waverley station.”
Tag very likely wasn’t up to a long journey on a train, but he’d probably feel worse tomorrow.
Delaney bought two first-class singles with a table on the fastest route. There were plenty of seats
available, so unlikely anyone would be sitting opposite. Four hours twenty minutes to Kings Cross.
By eleven that night, they’d be in his London flat.
He left Tag sitting with their things, somewhere he could keep an eye on him, while he went
shopping. There was complimentary food onboard but he wasn’t sure how much Tag would want to
eat. As he was walking back, he spotted something else and bought it, only once he had, he half-
wished he hadn’t.
Tag hadn’t moved. He looked washed out: pale face, no sparkle in his eyes. Though he smiled
when he saw Delaney.
“Think I’d deserted you?” Delaney asked.
“Me maybe, but not your baby.” Tag glanced at the case.
Delaney would be happy if he never had to look at that rifle again.
By the time they were in their seats, Tag seemed on the verge of collapse. But he didn’t moan or
complain. Delaney put him next to the window. Their bags were in the luggage rack immediately
behind them, but he’d kept the things he just bought.
“How are you feeling?” Delaney asked.
“You haven’t dumped me yet, so happy.”
Delaney took a foam neck pillow out of the bag and handed it to him. “The seat reclines a little.
Try and get some rest.”
Tag put the pillow around his neck and leaned back. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Delaney quietly whispered to him as the train left the station, going over the events of the day. Tag
didn’t ask any questions, but smiled when Delaney told him about Rafiq and Ahsan.
 “I’m glad for them.”
“You were brilliant,” Delaney said. “I wasn’t.”
“You gave me the vest. That saved me. You couldn’t have known the Frenchman would come up
behind to grab another trophy. You stopped the other shots hitting me.”
“But not this one.” Delaney reached towards Tag’s chest but didn’t touch him. He reran what had
happened, wondering if there was anything else he could have done. “It was supposed to be Feely’s
shot. I was in position to make sure he missed, but the American fired. He didn’t miss and nor did I.”
“Were they shocked?”
“Feely thought I’d hit the American by accident. The American knew I hadn’t. Then when Feely
was down as well, they both fell silent. Once I had their rifles out of reach, I cable-tied their arms
and legs, then treated their injuries.”
“Nothing life threatening?”
“I had my instructions.”
“I wonder if any of them will talk.”
A steward came to see if they wanted anything to eat. Delaney ordered a meal and a coffee. Tag
just asked for water.
“There’s something in that bag for you,” Delaney told him. “Not quite everything you asked for.”
Tag smiled as he took out a Crunchie, Wispa, Flake, Aero, Rolos and a packet of cheese and
onion crisps. When he pulled out the plush otter with the cub on its chest, his eyes widened.
“You bought me a soft toy?” he whispered.
“It looked like the otter you made.”
Tag clutched it and turned his face away. “Thank you.”
Delaney could see in the window that Tag was crying. Delaney couldn’t remember the last time
he’d cried.
The journey was uneventful. Delaney dozed for a while. They were safe on the train. It wasn’t due
to stop, but if it did, Delaney would wake. He still had his gun in his pocket.

When Tag next opened his eyes, the train was slowing down and it was night time, though never
truly dark in London. He’d hoped he’d feel better, but he didn’t. Moving was going to be difficult.
“I was just about to wake you,” Delaney said.
“Have you eaten all my chocolate?”
Delaney smiled. “It’s back in the bag. Want me to put the otter in there too?”
Tag handed it over along with the neck pillow. “Was I holding on to the otter?”
“Drooling on it.”
Tag smiled.
Delaney got off the train first and put the bags down on the platform. Tag knew he was ready to
catch him, but he didn’t fall.
“Want me to carry something?” Tag asked.
Delaney gave him an incredulous look, picked up everything and Tag followed him. When
Delaney realised how far behind Tag was falling, he slowed right down to walk beside him. By the
time they’d reached the taxi rank, Tag was shattered.
“Hungry now?” Delaney asked once he’d given the driver a street name.
Tag shook his head. Delaney handed him a bottle of water. “Drink, at least.”
Tag couldn’t even open the top, and had to give it back so Delaney could do it.
“They definitely got everyone, right?” Tag asked. “We’re okay?”
 “Yes.”
“Because you know those films where you think it’s all over and then you go to open the door and
your worst nightmare’s standing there and the happy ending you thought was coming isn’t going to be
very happy after all because there’s a madman with an axe standing in front of you? I don’t want that
to happen when we get to your place.”
Tag wasn’t really thinking of one of the bad guys re-emerging. More of Delaney telling him
something he didn’t want to hear. Like—well, the danger’s gone. You’ll be fine now. I’ve put money
in your bank account. Choose somewhere you’d like to live, then go and be happy.
He wasn’t paying attention to which way they were going and when the taxi stopped, Tag realised
he’d not followed one of his cardinal rules. Still, Delaney wasn’t going to hurt him. Not like that,
anyway. But when the cab had pulled away, Delaney headed away from the building Tag had thought
they’d go into. He slowly trudged after Delaney but once they’d rounded the corner, Delaney took him
up some steps and inside a tower block.
“Why didn’t the cab drop us outside here?” Tag asked.
“Sorry, I… Habit.”
Delaney had a top-floor flat with a great view of London. This one didn’t look much like a home
either but there was enough stuff around that made Tag think he possibly spent more time here than
anywhere else. He saw the line of animals he’d made sitting on the kitchen work surface.
“They need to go back to Ahsan,” Delaney said.
“Not all of them.”
“No, not all. You can have this room.” Delaney took Tag’s backpack through a door.
Tag grabbed the plush otter, hid it under his T-shirt, and followed him.
“If you want anything, shout.” Delaney closed the door on the way out.
That had been an abrupt departure. Tag stared at the door and sighed. Things were not right
between them. Maybe they never would be.
Tag stripped with difficulty. Lifting his arms was painful. He checked he still had the squashed
bullet in his trouser pocket, then left it there. He washed, cleaned his teeth and climbed into bed with
the otter, clutching it tightly. The weird thing was that out of everything that had happened that day, he
was more amazed by Delaney buying him the soft toy than he was anything else. The running and
getting shot felt as though it had been happening to a different person.
He lay on his side because the doctor had said that would be the most comfortable way to sleep,
and make it easier to breathe. He guessed Delaney hadn’t invited him into his bed because he was
injured, but Delaney could have asked. He was bound to have a big bed. There’d be plenty of room.
They didn’t need to do anything. Just being next to him would have been enough. But he hadn’t asked.
Hadn’t kissed him. Hadn’t said that much to him beyond what had happened that day.
Tag closed his eyes. His chest hurt but not only because he’d been shot.

A couple of times he was aware of Delaney coming to the room, filling his water glass, checking
he was all right. Tag never opened his eyes. Maybe the whispered, “I love you” was just in his
dreams.
 20
Two weeks later

Tag was still sleeping in the spare room. He’d tried to share Delaney’s bed but Delaney had just
got out and come into this room, and when Tag followed, he’d returned to his own. A never-ending
game of musical beds. And Tag understood, he did, but he couldn’t help but think there was more to it
than Delaney being cautious about hurting him.
In any case, Tag was feeling much better. Yeah, he still hurt sometimes, but he was mobile again,
no wincing when he lifted his arms. Well, not much wincing. Delaney told him two hundred thousand
pounds had been put into his bank account. Tag didn’t ask who’d given him the money. He hoped by
not asking he showed he didn’t care about it.
But…fuck!
He knew why he’d been given it. So that he could start again somewhere else.
He also suspected it was Delaney’s money.
And he knew why Delaney kept going out for hours every day. To give Tag time to pack up and
leave. Delaney had even gone away for two days, though he had made sure there was plenty of food
so Tag didn’t need to go out. Of course, the other reason Delaney was out a lot was that he was still
working, sorting out the case against Norbury and the others. Tag didn’t think it was his imagination
though, that Delaney always seemed a little surprised to see Tag was still there when he got back.
And Tag thought he knew why Delaney didn’t just tell him to go, though Delaney wouldn’t be
happy with Tag’s conclusion. Delaney was a coward. Tag could just imagine how telling him that
would go down, but he was sure he was right. Delaney thought he could make Tag want to leave so he
didn’t have to do the pushing. He’d given Tag money and opportunity and no reason to stay.
But he had given him a reason. Tag had heard him say I love you seven times when he thought Tag
was asleep. He’d counted. Maybe Delaney had said it more times when Tag really had been asleep. If
he wanted him to go, Tag wished he’d stop saying it.
Why couldn’t they be happy together? Delaney didn’t seem to want to try. If Tag started to talk to
him about anything personal, Delaney shut the conversation down or walked out.
Two weeks for Tag to finally get the message. Even though it was a message he didn’t believe,
one that he wasn’t sure Delaney believed either, but once Tag felt well enough, and now he did, he’d
go. He did have some pride, so he’d be leaving that otter behind. If Delaney didn’t care enough to
want Tag to stay, the otter meant nothing. Didn’t matter that he’d slept with it every night since
Delaney had given it to him. Like some stupid kid. Maybe that was part of the problem. The age gap
didn’t bother Tag so why should it bother Delaney?
So today, he’d leave. When Delaney had gone out, he’d pack up his stuff and go. He’d use three
thousand pounds of the money he’d been given and that was all. He was owed that much. He’d have
to find a way to give the rest back to Delaney. Tag didn’t want a row or tears or words coming from
Delaney that he didn’t want to hear. He’d leave no note. He’d just walk out.
Now who’s the coward?
Tag headed into the main room to find Delaney drinking coffee.
“Morning,” Delaney said.
“I’m leaving today.” Tag was amazed he’d told him, even more amazed that his voice didn’t
break.
Other than a slight tightening of his jaw, Delaney didn’t react. Tag sighed. What had he expected?
Delaney to tell him he didn’t want him to go?
“I don’t want that money,” Tag said. “Not all of it. But I am owed three thousand pounds. Can you
explain how I can give the rest back to you?”
“Me?”
“I know it’s yours.”
“I want you to have it.”
“I don’t want it. It’ll just sit there. I won’t use it.”
Delaney’s cheek twitched.
“Anyway, I’ll get my stuff and go.”
“My boss wants to see you.”
“Henry? Is he going to offer me a job?”
It was a joke but Delaney scowled, so maybe that was what Henry was going to do.

Delaney drove them there in a car that Tag hadn’t seen before, but then Delaney hadn’t taken him
anywhere until then. Not even the supermarket. Tag had done a lot of sleeping and watching TV. Even
though Delaney had bought him more clay, he hadn’t felt like making anything with it.
They went through a manned barrier and down into underground parking beneath a building in
Mayfair called Concorde House.
Tag was given a badge at the ground floor reception, but when he walked through the metal
detector, lights flashed. He put the bullet in the tray and tried again. No lights. He picked up the bullet
on the other side and put it back in his pocket.
Delaney had seen what caused the issue but said nothing. Tag always kept the bullet in his pocket.
It reminded him how lucky he was.
There were more security checks before they reached the third floor. Tag guessed this was some
clandestine government department. MI5 offices weren’t near here. He followed Delaney along a
corridor and into a room where a woman with grey hair coiled in a bun sat behind a desk. It said
Magda Morgrave on a brass name plate.
“Good morning, Magda,” Delaney said.
She glared at him. “Sit down. He’s busy.”
Tag almost smiled. Someone else who glared at Delaney. He liked her.
“You stay here,” Delaney told him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Tag woofed.
Delaney sighed. “Please.” The door slammed closed as he left and the woman scowled.
“Wow, you need to watch your fingers in that door,” Tag said.
“Everyone slams it.”
Tag got up and looked at the door closer mechanism. “Do you have a metal nail file?”
She took one out of her handbag and handed it to him. “I hope you don’t intend to do your nails.”
Tag laughed. “No.”
He twisted the file inside one of the screws to loosen it, then opened the door and let it go. It
closed gently. When he handed back the file, her eyes were wide.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome. I like your hair. It’s a really cool colour, like shimmering steel.”
She smiled. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Yes, please. That would be lovely. Black, please. Would you like me to make it? I could do one
for you too.”
 “No need, but thank you.”
She brought over a black coffee in a mug decorated with the silhouette of a tree, along with a
plate holding a piece of millionaire’s shortbread.
“Ooh. My favourite. Thank you.” Tag beamed at her. “Shortbread, caramel and chocolate. Perfect
trio.” He took a bite and hummed with pleasure. “Did you make this? It’s delicious.”
She nodded. “The chief likes them.”
“I’m not surprised. I’ve never really had the chance to do much cooking. I didn’t get the
opportunity to learn. I know there’s more to it than following the recipe because I’ve tried that a few
times and the result was not pretty.”
“What did you try to make?”
“Choux pastry and macarons.”
“Macarons are notoriously tricky. I had a few false starts with those.”
“I tried to make them for my flatmates and when they spread over the tin, I ate them anyway, but
with a spoon. Still really tasty.”
She laughed just as Delaney came back and as Barker came out of Henry’s office. Delaney and
Barker stared at them both.
“Have you tasted Ms Morgrave’s millionaire’s shortbread?” Tag asked. “It’s the best thing ever.”
“No.” Delaney had a smile on his face. “I’ve never been found worthy.”
She huffed.
“Mr King-Smith will see you now,” Barker said and walked out.
Tag finished his coffee. “Can I wash up for you?”
“No, thank you. I’ll wrap up some of this for you to take with you.”
“That’s so kind. Thank you.”
Tag followed Delaney into the next room and closed the door. A tall grey-haired man stared at him
with what looked like amazement.
“What did you do to my secretary?”
“Nothing.” Tag blinked.
The man held out his hand. “I’m Henry King-Smith. It’s good to meet you, Tag.”
Tag shook his hand.
“Take a seat, both of you.”
They sat down.
Henry stared at him. “I wanted to see you in person, to thank you. You’re a remarkable young man.
Very few people would have been able to do what you did, to cope with what you had to endure.”
“Yeah, he is a bit of a grump.” Tag smiled at Delaney but he didn’t smile back.
Henry chuckled. “You went above and beyond.”
“You didn’t give him much choice, did you?” Delaney said.
Tag put his hand on Delaney’s sleeve and he jerked his arm away. Shit, shouldn’t I have touched
him? Tag sat on his fingers.
“Is everything sorted now?” Tag asked. “Will I have to go to court?”
“Almost everyone involved has been bending over backwards to blame anyone other than
themselves. But eventually those who are faced with life in prison have cooperated and pleaded
guilty in order to reduce the length of their sentences. Their money can’t save them from prison. Their
reputations are ruined. Their partners will likely divorce them. Their children will no longer speak to
them. Yet I think death would have been a more suitable punishment.”
“How did those people get to be like that?” Tag asked. “What made them think it was okay to hunt
a human being?”
“Don’t think of them as like you and me,” Henry said. “They might appear to have normal jobs,
wives and families. They might have dogs and cats that they profess to love. But they’re monsters.”
“But how did it even start?” Tag gulped. “Whose idea was it?”
“Norbury claims it was Feely’s and vice versa.” Henry shrugged. “A way to earn a lot of money.
A chance remark on a hunt for big game and suddenly the pair had found a market. Bad people are out
there. Fortunately for us, they are in the minority and it’s their bad luck if we stumble across them.
There’s a lot goes on inside the deep web that we’re not aware of. Websites that aren’t indexed by
web search engines are hard to find but we had a hint that Norbury was up to something. And when
Ahsan disappeared, we were concerned he might end up being hunted.”
“We nearly died,” Tag said quietly.
“Your quick thinking saved Ahsan. I’m only sorry that you had to go through so much, including
Delaney shooting you. I’m sure…”
Henry carried on talking but Tag had stopped listening. He could feel Delaney coiling like a
spring. Delaney had shot him? What the hell?
“…and I’m glad you two are still friends,” Henry said.
“We are.” Tag spoke before Delaney could, though he wasn’t sure they were friends, or had ever
been friends. Why hadn’t Delaney told him? He hadn’t meant to shoot him, obviously. So what had
happened? Was that why he’d been so…off? Oh God, of course it is.
“We’ve done two things of which I hope you’ll approve,” Henry said. “The first is to put fifty
thousand pounds in your bank account. The second is that your criminal record has been expunged.
Not something that can usually be made to happen but an exception was made in view of the role you
played in this operation.”
Tag stopped thinking about Delaney shooting him. “Does that mean if I’m asked if I have a
criminal record, I can say no?”
Henry nodded. “I had a look at your case. I was surprised they took the word of your sister and
brother over yours. Your parents seemed unnaturally keen for you to take the blame. Your lawyer
didn’t do a good job.”
“He told me I was lucky I hadn’t been charged with murder because of Louise’s old injuries,” Tag
whispered. “And…”
“And what?” Henry asked.
“My stepfather said he didn’t want to lose his other daughter as well, that I had to take
responsibility because I was the one in charge. He was right about that. I was in charge and I let
Louise down.”
“It was your parents who let her down, not you,” Henry said. “They let you down as well. I think
you have a case for a retrial. I know where your brother and sister are if—”
“No—thank you. I don’t want to see them. I don’t want another trial.” Tag touched his chest. “I
know I never did anything to intentionally hurt my sister. Delaney believes me and that’s all that
matters. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I was fourteen years old when my life fell apart. They
didn’t even come and see me when I was locked up. I have no interest in any of them.”
“If it was a miscarriage of justice, you’d be entitled to compensation,” Henry said.
Tag shook his head. “Do you think any amount of money could make up for what happened? I
wouldn’t be able to spend a penny of it without thinking of why I’d been given it.”
“But if someone else was responsible, they’ve gotten away with it,” Henry said.
“My stepfather was a bully and quick with his fists. Sallyanne was six years old and spoilt. But
she was hit like we all were. She thought it was normal. She lied because it was the way she’d learnt
to survive. I hope she doesn’t remember what she did. I hope she’s happy. I don’t hate her. But that
time has gone and I don’t want it back in my life. I don’t care what my brother wants, it’s what I want
now.”
Henry nodded.
Tag took a deep breath. “Do you believe I killed her?”
“Not on that evidence,” Henry said.
Tag smiled as he pushed to his feet and held out his hand.
Henry stood up. “Thank you, again. I did wonder if you’d be interested in working for us.”
For one brief moment, Tag felt a sense of pride that he hadn’t been found to be completely useless,
but this life wasn’t for him. “No, thank you.” He could almost feel Delaney vibrating at his side.
“Don’t dismiss the offer out of hand. Think about it,” Henry said.
“I’d never work for an organisation that employed Barker,” Tag said. “He’s an arsehole.”
Henry laughed. “I’m afraid everyone who works here has been called that at one point or another.
He’s just insecure, manipulative and ambitious, like many others.”
“Don’t let him take over from you, then,” Tag said.
“I don’t think that’s likely. Think about my offer, Tag. You’d be an asset.”

As they left, Tag was handed a piece of the shortbread.

“Don’t share it,” Magda said.
Tag smiled. “Thank you.”
Neither he nor Delaney spoke as they left the building.
“Want to leave the car for a while and go for a walk?” Delaney asked.
“Are you worried I’ll rip your head off if we go back to your place?”
“Do you want to rip my head off?”
“Is it actually physically possible?”
Delaney let out a choked laugh. “No.”
“So you can sleep peacefully.”
Tag went over to the car and waited for Delaney to open the door. He didn’t want to go for a walk
and end up crying in public.
“Are we going to talk about it?” Delaney asked as he set off.
“You clearly didn’t want to or you’d have told me before now.” Tag brushed his fingers over the
place where the bullet pushed against the material of his jeans. “You lied about what happened.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I couldn’t bear the thought of you hating me.”
Delaney’s words shocked him. Tag felt a sudden surge of protectiveness towards someone who’d
never appeared weak to him before.
“Why would I hate you?” Tag whispered.
“Because I hurt you.”
For a moment, Tag wanted to rage at him. Didn’t he realise how much he’d hurt him over the last
two weeks?
Delaney glanced at him, but didn’t say another word as he drove back.
When they were in the flat, Tag went to the kitchen, took out two plates and cut the shortbread in
half.
 “Don’t tell her I shared it.” Tag held out the plate.
Delaney took the plate from him and put it down, then reached for Tag’s hand. “Come and sit with
me.”
Once Tag settled on the couch, Delaney let go of his hand. Tag had hoped he wouldn’t.
“You know now that things didn’t go quite as I described.” Delaney took a deep breath. “The
American had a sniper’s rifle. Mine is as well, but I knew the M82 made him dangerous. He was
disturbed when he took the first shot. But when I saw how close he’d come to hitting you, I couldn’t
let him fire it at you a second time. I shouldn’t have let him take the first. So I shot you instead to
knock you over. Then I shot him.”
“Why didn’t you just shoot him?”
“Because Feely would have shot me. I couldn’t get two shots off fast enough to disable them both.
I took a risk.”
Tag sighed. “You saved my life.”
“I might have killed you.”
“But you didn’t. You should have told me. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to forgive you?
You saved me. What is there to forgive?”
“Maybe I can’t forgive myself!” Delaney snapped.
“Yeah, you can. You did your job. You’re not a guy who has regrets.”
“You’ve no idea what I’ve done.” Delaney’s face was expressionless. “You were going to leave,
so leave. Use the money. You have enough to start up somewhere on your own. You can buy a kiln, a
potter’s wheel and—”
“Oh shut the fuck up. You’re being mean to try and get me to flounce off. You think anger beats
pain? It doesn’t. If you want me to leave, just ask me to go, with a proper explanation. Tell me why
this won’t work and make me believe you. Only am I supposed to pretend I’ve not heard you whisper
that you love me?”
A muscle ticked in Delaney’s cheek.
“I know I’m an irritating little shit sometimes, but why can’t we try to see if we work? Let’s go to
another country like Ahsan and Rafiq. We can start again somewhere else. I’m rich. You paid me a lot
more than Henry. I can support you and when the money runs out, I’ll earn a fortune selling my pots
and you can stay home and do the dishes and the cleaning.”
“Careful,” Delaney said.
“Just the cleaning then.” Tag’s heart was thumping hard because at least Delaney was listening to
him. “You’ve spent a long time just…surviving. All these years without a proper home because you
can’t let yourself grow to love a place in case you lose it. Everything in your world has been
temporary, but it doesn’t need to stay that way. You don’t have to keep choosing houses that are
isolated. I get that you don’t want neighbours because they’d get to know you and you’d have to move
again, but choose a different way of life. Choose one with me. Your world has changed. I’m in it now.
You can change.”
This was their last chance. If Tag couldn’t get him to see a different future, there was no hope.
“I’m not sure I can.”
Tag clenched his teeth. Don’t get angry. “You could at least fucking try. Don’t waste this chance
to be loved.”
Delaney stared at him. “You love me?”
“No, you’re an arsehole. But I think you can change.” How can I persuade him? “If we go far
enough away to some place really remote, you won’t spend your time thinking someone is coming to
kill you. You can relax and enjoy life.”
“And that day, we both die.”
“No!” Tag grabbed his hands.
“This isn’t a job I can retire from.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was a hired killer. I was paid to shoot people. I didn’t ask questions. I did as I was
told and I never regretted what I’d done.”
“But you’re not doing that now. You didn’t kill anyone. You don’t need to do it anymore. You can
be what you want.”
Delaney huffed.
“You don’t have to work for Henry anymore. Choose a new career. A new name. Maybe your real
name. We can go somewhere together. You bought me an otter. You do know that otters aren’t just for
Christmas, they’re for life, right?”
At least that made Delaney chuckle.
“And I’m mended now. I don’t think sex should be off the menu any longer. I’ll have forgotten how
to do it. I looked up what I can do and not do with a chest injury. No golf, riding horses, running,
heavy lifting, but it says sexual activity with a hot guy is totally fine along with light housework and
simple errands. Please. Go and find me a hot guy.”
“Oh God.”
“Okay, you’ll do at a pinch. You can stop if I yelp.” Tag took a deep breath. “Please, take a chance
on me.” He stood and held out his hand.

Delaney gave in. He never gave in. But he wanted Tag so much he let him lead him to the
bedroom. Two weeks of not letting himself even share the same bed because he was afraid of hurting
him. Two weeks of lying there thinking about how close he’d been to killing someone he’d come to
care about. More than care about. A guy who’d turned his world on its head and shown him what he’d
been missing.
They shed their clothes and Delaney threw the duvet to the bottom of the bed. Do not rush this.
Tag lay on his back, sliding his hand up and down his cock. His chest was still bruised, more yellow
and green now, the hole where the bullet had gone in not completely healed. There’d probably always
be a scar. A reminder of how things had almost ended in disaster.
Delaney settled next to him, his cock aching, and hardening by the second. “How do you want…”
His voice trailed away. He was never uncertain. Tag made him uncertain.
“Can I play with you?” Tag didn’t wait for an answer. He carefully squirted lube on Delaney’s
stomach.
“Are you writing something?”
“Yeah.” Tag chewed his lip. “At last.”
Tag knelt between his legs, shoving them up and wide apart, and Delaney belatedly realised what
play with him meant. Oh fuck. Tag scooped some of the lube onto his fingers and Delaney could feel
sounds fighting to get out of him. Not ones he wanted to escape, though at the first touch of Tag’s
fingers on his cock, a whimper still slipped through his lips. But when those same fingers stroked the
skin behind his balls, he wrapped his hand tightly around Tag’s wrist.
“I’ve not done anything yet,” Tag whispered. “Let go. It feels good. You know it does otherwise I
wouldn’t let you do it to me, would I? No one would do it. What a sad fucking lot we’d be. All
blowjobs and wanks. Not that there’s anything wrong in relationships that don’t go for anal but that’s
not us.” He blinked. “Except if you really don’t want to, you can fuck me instead. I just thought… I
didn’t want you to worry about hurting me. I want to make you feel good.”
“And not you?”
Tag smiled. “When I’m with you, everything feels good.”
Delaney let go of Tag’s wrist and raised his arms to wrap both hands around the top of the
headboard.
“You’ll like it, I promise.” Tag was running his fingers backwards and forwards between
Delaney’s balls and his arsehole, pushing and pressing when he neared the entrance to his body, and
Delaney closed his eyes.
“No,” Tag said. “Look at me.”
Tag was smiling at him, his face all bright and happy. When he felt the tip of Tag’s finger slip
inside, he tried to steady his breathing.
“Look at you,” Tag whispered. “You’re so hot. And so tight.” He laughed. “Oh God, you’ve cut
off my circulation.”
“Because no one has ever had their fingers up my arse before.”
“I’ll be gentle. I’ve got my whole hand in there now and you didn’t even realise, did you?”
Delaney laughed and as his muscles relaxed, felt another finger penetrate him.
“I’m going to show you how to multitask.” Tag wrapped his other hand around his own cock and
groaned as he stroked himself. He was sliding his fingers in and out of Delaney in the same rhythm,
his eyelids fluttering as he tipped his head back. Two fingers turned into three and Delaney
swallowed hard at the burn, but the distraction of watching Tag jerk off was working. Except now his
own cock was desperate, the head wet with precome and no one touching it.
Tag came upright, his eyes glassy. He gasped “Condom,” and fumbled on the bed.
A word that suddenly made this real and Delaney felt his fingers uncurling from their hold.
“Okay?” Tag asked.
Delaney nodded. Coherent speech was beyond him. Not throwing Tag off the bed only just within
his control.
“You’re not to assume that because I’m faffing around putting the condom on that I’ve not done
this before. I’ve practised lots of times on bananas.”
Tag pushed Delaney’s legs up again, moved closer and when he felt the touch of Tag’s cock
against his body, Delaney held his breath.
“You have to take a breath, Macbeth. In and out, Smout. You know how to make this work, Kirk.”
“Shut up and do it.”
They were both glistening with perspiration. Tag sucked his lip when he pushed against him and
Delaney registered that Tag was nervous too.
“That’s one inch. Ten to go,” Tag said.
Delaney laughed, Tag slid all the way in and they both froze. Then Tag leaned forward to kiss him
and the brush of Tag’s stomach against his cock made Delaney groan. The kiss was soft and sweet and
too short, because when Tag pulled back, he started to move, gently at first, then harder. That place…
All Delaney could do was wonder why the fuck he’d not done this before. He was a groaning mess,
struggling to breathe at the same time as plead. Aloud or in his head, he didn’t care. There, there, yes,
fuck, harder, oh God, again, again, fuck, fuck, fuuuck.
It seemed perfect timing when Tag put his hand around Delaney’s straining dick to bring him off,
while he kissed him and kept fucking him, and Delaney’s hands moved from the headboard to Tag’s
arse to pull him on. Delaney came in such a rush, he lost control of everything. His body, his mouth,
his life. His hips were jerking as he emptied himself between them, then Tag came too, stiffening
against him, his mouth still against Delaney’s, Delaney swallowing Tag’s yelp, then his cries.
They came down together, Tag a crumpled mess at Delaney’s side and Delaney only belatedly
thought to check Tag was okay, that he lay on his side and not his stomach. Then he remembered that
Tag had been on his stomach and he couldn’t have stopped him anyway. He turned to look at him. Tag
was breathing heavily but smiling.
“Have I converted you to the dark side?” Tag asked. “Was it okay?”
“Maybe.”
Tag put an outraged look on his face.
“Okay, more than maybe.”
Tag cuddled up to him. “Are we okay? You’re not going to make me leave?”
“Talk to me about what you want to do.” Delaney threaded his fingers with Tag’s.
“What about Canada?” Tag whispered. “Not too out in the middle of nowhere. You’re right about
the pots. I do want to make them and sculpt animals. I’m not sure what you’d want to do. Other than
the cleaning.”
Delaney wondered what Tag was doing when he pushed his hand under the pillow but he came out
with the toy otter.
“What’s that doing there?” Delaney asked.
“He needs to be involved in our decisions.”
“Right.” Delaney shook his head. “How old are you?”
“You bought it for me. You’re sweet.”
“If you want to share my bed, you’ll never say I’m sweet again.”
“You’re sweet.”
They both smiled.
“What’s your name?” Tag asked. “Have I already guessed?”
“No.”
“One last try. Tobias. So…you might be Toby or Tobe or Tobes… Or Ass? I’d like to call you
Ass.”
Delaney sighed. “Hieronymus.”
Tag frowned. “Is that a name? You weren’t just clearing your throat?”
“You’ve not heard of Hieronymus Bosch? The painter? The Garden of Earthly Delights?”
“No. Did you get teased at school with a name like that?”
“They called me Ron.”
“That is very boring. Not Hero? Oh my God, because you are.”
“I’m not.”
“Is Delaney your first name or your surname?”
“Surname.”
“What’s the first name that goes with that then?”
“Adam.”
“Does anyone call you that?”
“No.”
“Can I call you Adam?”
He nodded.
“Adam? Guess what?”
“What?”
“I love you.” Tag smiled at him. “Now tell me you love me when you know I can hear you.”
“I…”
Tag kissed him before he could speak.
 Epilogue
Vancouver Island
A year later

“You can do it,” Adam said.

“I can’t.” Why the hell did I say yes to this? Probably because Tag said yes to everything Adam
asked him to do.
“Move your left hand a couple of inches to the left.”
“But that means letting go!”
“You’ll still have three points of contact. You’re not going to fall. Well, not far.”
“Did you have to add those last three words?”
Adam laughed.
Bastard. Tag would have said that out loud but there were people around. He took a deep breath
and leaned left, reaching out until his fingers found a crack. He clung on.
“Hi!” shouted a ten-year-old scampering up on his left side. Obviously the much easier route.
“Keep going,” Adam called down to him. “I have a Mars Bar.”
“Attach it to a rope and dangle it in front of me.”
Adam chuckled. Tag pulled himself up and found the next foothold. The sooner he did this, the
sooner he could stop doing it. Think about the Mars Bar. Think about giving Adam a thump. He kept
going and this time he didn’t pause. It was a bit like running. Rhythm was important, then again, so
was not falling off. One hand after the other, feet wedged into places he wouldn’t have been able to fit
a spoon inside, but a few minutes later, he was sitting at the top next to Adam. Tag tried to look cool
but his heart was galloping.
Adam put a Mars Bar in his hand.
“Well done.” Adam kissed him.
“Was it?”
“Well…” Adam clearly registered that was the wrong answer and changed it. “Yeah, it was. You
made it to the top.”
“All a hundred feet of it.”
“More like twenty.”
A teenage girl climbed up a few yards away and high-fived her dad when she stood up.
“I didn’t get a high-five.”
“You had chocolate and a kiss. Don’t be greedy.”
Tag leaned against him as he looked out at the view. Even though they weren’t very high, they
could still see the sea.
“Do you like it here?” Adam asked him.
“How many times are you going to keep asking me the same question?”
“Until the day you say no and then we’ll move.”
“I do like it. I don’t think I’d ever want to live in a city again. I can’t tell you how much I enjoy
being scared out of my wits climbing up a sheer rock face.”
“It wasn’t sheer.”
“Don’t wreck my achievement. I think you’d be better sticking with your pals. I’m never going to
be a mountain goat like you. I was amazed when you joined that climbing group. For a guy who
doesn’t like people, it was very brave. Just don’t ask me to come and watch you again because me
freaking out at the bottom was very embarrassing for both of us.”
Adam chuckled. “I think I picked the wrong place to bring you. I don’t mean today.”
Tag turned to him. “No you didn’t and anyway, we chose it together. Vancouver Island is perfect.
Wild, beautiful, untamed beaches with killer whales lurking offshore. Winter storms that actually
made me think our house was going to get blown away, but the most amazing waves I’ve ever seen.
Learning to surf in water that sent my nuts scurrying for warmth under my liver. Lovely runs with bear
spray handy. Potential for earthquakes and tsunamis. Getting snowed in and running out of Mars Bars.
Where in the world could be better?”
“It has beaches that allow you to sunbathe naked, and I know how much you like doing that. You’d
spend your entire day naked if you could.”
“Are you complaining?”
“No. And you said that sightseeing trip to see killer whales was the best thing you’d ever done in
your entire life, until I reminded you that it wasn’t. We both love watching the storms and I liked
teaching you to surf and warming you up afterwards. I do believe you liked that too. And when have
we seen a bear when we’ve been running?”
“They’re probably put off by me singing If You Go Down To The Woods Today.”
“Very likely.”
The other climbers had gone, and Adam pulled him in for a proper kiss. Tag melted against him.
He hadn’t got Adam comfortable with public displays of affection, but he was getting there. He’d
hold hands in public and Tag was happy with that.
“We’re okay, aren’t we?” Adam asked.
“A lot better than okay. We even have a few friends.”
“You have friends. I don’t.”
“Try smiling at people.”
“I only want to smile at you.”
“And Otto.”
“Oh God.” Adam laughed. “That bloody otter. I wish I’d never bought it.” He pushed to his feet.
“Hard or easy way down?”
“Easy and I don’t mean abseiling. That’s easy for you, hard for me.”
They gathered up the ropes and set off on the walk back down to where they’d parked.
“I’ve had a message from Henry,” Adam said.
“He doesn’t want you to do a job for him, does he? Say no.”
“Everyone who was involved has now been sentenced.”
“Even Saad?”
“He’s been jailed for life as have the other main players. Twenty-year sentences. More for
Norbury. There were a lot of charges against him. Not everything was heard in open court.”
“They won’t serve that length of time though.”
“Probably not.”
“What about the government’s relationship with Saudi Arabia?”
“No one is above the law. The story is that Ahsan has disappeared, possibly dead. If he and Rafiq
are careful, they’ll not be found. Henry discovered a lot of prominent names in Norbury’s files.
Undoubtedly people who were going to be blackmailed at some point, or who had already been
blackmailed.”
“Maybe that was what it was all about.”
“I did see the name of a cabinet member.”
 “Could be someone even more important than that. In another royal family.”
“We’ll never know.”
“Do you have work to do this afternoon?”
“I did what I needed to this morning.”
Adam worked from home making money from investments. Tag didn’t understand what he did but
Adam enjoyed it and that was all that mattered.
“What about you?” Adam asked.
“Nothing that can’t wait.”
“Want to go for a late lunch in Victoria?”
“Okay.”
“Red Fish, Blue Fish?”
“Perfect.”
Tag’s mouth watered as he thought about eating their fabulous fish and chips while sitting looking
out over the harbour.
“Are you drooling already?” Adam asked.
“I might be.”
“Well swallow it.”

Tag noticed that Adam checked his phone as they walked from the parking lot to the quay.
“Do we have to get there at a certain time?” Tag asked.
“Yep.”
Tag wondered why until they reached the eating place. Then his heart leapt into his mouth. It was
Ahsan who ran towards him and flung his arms around him. Tag clung to him.
“What are you doing here?” Tag asked.
“We’ve come to see the two of you.”
Tag gave Rafiq a hug too. “I owe you everything,” Rafiq said.
The place wasn’t too busy. Usually there was a long line but they ordered their food and went to
sit at one of the tables.
“Have you been in touch with them?” Tag asked Adam.
“Very occasionally. Just to keep them updated on the situation.”
“We feel safer now everyone has been sentenced,” Ahsan said. “My former family are still
protesting Saad’s innocence. I’m relieved he’s in jail.”
“Do you feel safe?” Tag asked.
“Yes.” Ahsan nodded. “We’re still cautious, but yes, we feel safe. We have new names, though we
didn’t opt for plastic surgery. Clearly.”
Adam went to get the food.
“What about you?” Rafiq asked.
“There’s no one left to come after us, though he has shadows in his past.” Tag looked up at Adam
as he returned with the food.
“You look well,” Ahsan said.
“That’s what happiness does for you.” Tag tucked into his fish and chips.
“We bought you a gift,” Ahsan took the envelope that Rafiq offered and handed it to Tag.
Tag gasped when he saw what was inside. “A house in Costa Rica?”
“When the weather gets bad here, then you have somewhere to fly to for some sun.” Ahsan smiled
at him.
 “You bought us a house?” Tag gaped at him.
“You saved my life,” Ahsan said. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
Tag’s fingers slid to Adam’s under the table. He could feel tears forming.
“And you have introduced us to a great place to eat,” Rafiq said. “We’ve never been here before,
but we’ll come again.”

Adam squeezed Tag’s fingers. Ahsan had checked with him whether it was a gift that he should
give, and Adam had said yes. He should have thought of doing it himself, buying a bolthole elsewhere
just in case. He felt…as safe as he thought he could ever feel and that was enough as long as he had
Tag in his life.
He’d joined the climbing group to make Tag happy. Adam would have been happier climbing on
his own but he didn’t want Tag to worry about him. Tag worried anyway but Adam had got used to the
team he climbed with and while they weren’t friends, they were people he could tolerate.
Tag spent much of his time in the studio they’d had built, singing as he worked, much to Adam’s
amusement. They used the bowls and plates and mugs he’d made, though Tag hadn’t managed to
convince any stores to sell them for him. His animal sculptures were fantastic, but Tag hadn’t sold
any.
“Are you still making things with clay?” Ahsan asked, almost as though he’d been reading Adam’s
mind.
“I’ll make you something—oh, but we can’t meet again, can we? Or know where each other
lives.”
“I don’t think it matters now,” Ahsan said. “Maybe you could come and stay with us.”
He showed Tag his phone. “We run this gallery in Toronto. Mostly paintings, but some sculptures.
Make us some items to sell. People like big things, so go wild. Whales bursting out of the sea, dogs,
polar bears, dragons, wolves…whatever you like. You can make up a name. You never have to meet
anyone. Whatever way you want to play it.”
Tag started to cry and Adam pulled him against his chest. He’d sent pictures of Tag’s work to
Ahsan once he’d learned they had opened an art gallery and had hardly been able to keep the secret of
today’s visit.
They split up following lunch, with more hugs and tears from Tag, then Adam walked Tag towards
the Bay Shopping Centre holding his hand.
“That was… Oh God… I can’t believe it.”
“Which part?”
“All of it. Seeing them again, the house, the gallery. It feels like it’s all happening to someone
else. Why are we going to the Bay? Do you need to buy something?”
“You’ll see.”
Adam stopped walking outside Torrent Galleries.
Tag looked in the window and gaped. “That’s my kangaroo and baby.” He frowned and turned to
Adam.
Adam wasn’t going to tell him he’d schlepped Tag’s sculptures to galleries all over Victoria until
he’d found one that would take them.
“Let’s go in.”
Dieter, the gallery owner, came forward when he saw them.
“Hi, Adam.”
“This is Tadhg.” The nearest they’d found to Tag.
 “Our artist.” Dieter held out his hand and beamed at Tag. “Wonderful sculptures. I’ve sold all
three, including the one in the window. Transferred the money to your PayPal account. When can I
have more?”
“Er…” Tag gulped.
Customers came in and Dieter moved off. “Let me know!” he called.
“You’ve been busy,” Tag said.
“You weren’t aiming high enough, so I did it for you.”
They left the shop and Tag smiled. “Are you going to do anything else that’s going to make my
heart leap?”
“Maybe.” Adam took his hand and pulled him into the jewellers next door. He’d already spoken
to the shop owner and when they went in, the man took out a case of TAG Heuer watches.
Tag’s eyes lit up when he saw them.
“I want to buy one for you,” Adam said. “Pick whichever one you like.”
“Really?”
Adam nodded.
“Thank you.” Tag didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, he was too busy chewing his
fingernail. “They look…complicated,” he whispered.
“This one has a GPS, heart rate sensor, compass, accelerometer and gyroscope.” The man picked
it up to show him.
“I just want a watch that tells the time,” Tag said.
Adam smiled. “They all do that.”
“How about one of these?” Another case came out.
“Oh, that one,” Tag said immediately.
A silver watch with a pale blue face and diamond dot hour markers. Adam was pretty sure it was
a woman’s watch but if Tag liked it, that was all that mattered.
“It’s water resistant to a hundred metres. A beauty.” The shop owner held it out to Tag who
slipped it onto his wrist.
“It even fits,” Tag said.
“So that’s a yes?” Adam asked.
“Yes. Thank you.”

Tag came out of the shop wearing the watch, clutching Adam’s hand. “You’ll have to be my
bodyguard now, in case someone tries to steal it. Whatever happens, save the watch.”
Adam laughed. “I thought I was your bodyguard anyway.”
“You shot me!” Tag grinned.
“And you remind me on a regular basis. As if I could forget.”
“Anything else going to make my heart leap today?”
Adam pulled Tag into his arms and kissed him, and he didn’t care who was watching. He wanted
the whole world to see.
“I love you,” Adam said. “I think all my life I’ve been afraid of love because I thought telling
someone you love them gave them the power to hurt you. So I decided I didn’t need love, that I’d
never need it, and I was wrong. Now, I don’t know how I lived without it because I can’t live without
you. I didn’t think I had a heart until the moment I thought I’d lost you.”
“When you shot me?”
“Every time I pushed you away or tried to push you away. It hurt. I knew then that I did have a
heart and it was all down to you. I never thought of myself as lucky and yet I’m the luckiest guy in the
world.”
He choked up as he spoke and Tag hugged him.
“You are the best boyfriend—ever. Now I need you to take me home because I need to make your
heart leap with the help of my watch.”
“Dare I ask doing what?”
Tag put his mouth to Adam’s ear. “I want to see how fast I can make you come.”
“I don’t think that’s one of the functions on that watch.”
“Then I’ll count. I can get to twenty without getting confused.”
Adam laughed and tugged him back to the car. “You do know that the watch was my way of…”
The words dried up in his throat.
“I know,” Tag told him.
“I do want to ask you.”
“You don’t need to. I know. Forever and ever, right?” Tag smiled at him.
“Forever and ever.”
Adam kissed him again, in front of the world.

The End
If you sign up on my website to get details of upcoming releases, I’ll send you access to exclusive
short stories on the site – including one called Forbidden Love about Rafiq and Ahsan. Barbara
Elsborg

I also have a readers’ group on Facebook. Barbara's Besties

Thanks so much for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed it. If you have time, I’d appreciate a
review to help me find more readers.

My next books out are -

The Santa Problem – 27th October
This is Real - 4th November

If you would like to read Christmas stories, you might like to check out the following books I’ve
written:

Winterworld mybook.to/Winterworld
A Faerie Story mybook.to/afaeriestory
What If What If?
Not Over Yet mybook.to/notoveryet
Jonty’s Christmas mybook.to/jontyschristmas
Where Forever Started (free) Where Forever Started
 About the Author
Barbara Elsborg lives in Kent in the south of England. She always wanted to be a spy, but having
confessed to everyone without them even resorting to torture, she decided it was not for her.
Volcanology scorched her feet. A morbid fear of sharks put paid to marine biology. So instead, she
spent several years successfully selling cyanide.
After dragging up two rotten, ungrateful children and frustrating her sexy, devoted, wonderful
husband (who can now stop twisting her arm) she finally has time to conduct an affair with an
electrifying plugged-in male, her laptop.
Her books feature quirky heroines and bad boys, and she hopes they are as much fun to read as
they are to write.
She loves hearing from readers and can be contacted at bjelsborg@gmail.com If you’d like to
hear about future releases, please ask to be put on her mailing list.

Other books by Barbara Elsborg

Contemporary MMs
This is Real
Tell No One
The Making of Jonty Bloom (Unfinished Business 1)
A Long Way Back (Unfinished Business 2)
Reinventing Cato (Unfinished Business 3)
Waiting for Ru (Unfinished Business 4)
Jonty’s Christmas - novella
Jonty in Russia - novella
Jonty’s Halloween – novella
Jonty and Devan’s Big Day - novella
Whatever it Takes
The Story of Us
Edge of Forever
Cowboys Down
With or Without Him
Every Move He Makes
Give Yourself Away
Falling (Fall and Break book 1)
Breaking (Fall and Break book 2)
Drawn In
Dirty Games

Paranormal MMs and MMMs

Double Trouble (Lost and Found 1)
What If? (Lost and Found 2)
Inbetweeners (Lost and Found 3)
Broken Things (Lost and Found 4)
Archangel’s Assassin
Dirty Angel
Bloodline (Norwood book 2)
The Demon You Know (Norwood book 3)
Second Chance
A Faerie Story
Winterworld
Not Over Yet
The Santa Problem

Short Stories (MM)

Zeke’s Wood
The Choice (Free)
Where Forever Started (Free)

Contemporary MMFs
Anna in the Middle
Susie’s Choice
Girl Most Likely to
Talking Trouble
Just What She Wants (novella)
Starting Over (novella)

Contemporary MFs
Strangers
Summer Girl Winter Boy
Kiss a Falling Star
An Ordinary Girl
Perfect Timing (Bedlingham brothers book 1)
Something About Polly (Bedlingham brothers book 2)
Doing the Right Thing (Mansell brothers book 1)
Finding the Right One (Mansell brothers book 2)
Digging Deeper
The Princess and the Prepper (novella)
Snow Play (novella)
On the Right Track (novella)

Short Stories (MF)

Saying Yes (free)
The Bad Widow (free)
The Gift (free)
Dragon Race (free)
Two Birds, One Stone (free)

Romantic Suspense (MF)

Chosen
Crossing the Line

Paranormal MFs and MMFs

Power of Love MF
Kiss Interrupted MF
Jumping in Puddles MF (Norwood book 1)
Rocked MMF
The Small Print MMF
Worlds Apart MMF
The Consolation Prize MF (Trueblood book 1)
Falling for You MF (Trueblood book 2)
Lightning in a Bottle MF (Trueblood book 3)
The Misfits MMF (Trueblood book 4)
Fight to Remember MMF (Trueblood book 5)
Lucy in the Sky MF (sci fi)
Taking Stock MMF (sci fi)
Just One Bite MF novella