“It was Dory,” he said.
There was an air of finality in his young voice.
Benson watched him for a long second before he nodded and quietly closed the notebook. “Alright, lad. That’s enough for now. We’ll have another chat later. No rush.”
He didn’t push.
Just turned toward the door before pausing, his hand on the frame.
“We’re still checkin’, Thane. Still goin’ through things, y’know? If something changes—if there’s somethin’ we missed—you’ll be the first we call. You have my word.” Benson stepped out of the hospital room and let the door click shut behind him.
Benson exhaled hard through his nose, hand running down his face. He pulled out his phone, thumb already tapping before the screen lit.
It rang twice.
“Alright, love,” he said, voice softer now. “He gone to bed yet?”
A pause, he nodded to himself.
“Can you give him the phone a sec? Just for a minute.”
There was rustling on the other end, then a child’s voice chimed, “Hi, Dad”
Benson closed his eyes.
“You up, mate?” he said gently. “Didn’t mean to wake ya. Just…wanted to hear your voice.”
Another pause, then a quiet yawn.
“How was rugby, then? You still knockin’ that Owens lad flat on his arse, eh?”
A small chuckle on the other end.
Benson smiled, but it was a tired smile. One that didn’t reach far.
“I bet you are,” he murmured. “Listen, get some kip, alright? I’ll be home late. Tell Mum to save me a bit of pie if there’s any left.”
He paused again, listening.
“I love you, too, son.”
And when the call ended, he just stood there for a moment, staring at the blank screen.
Then he slipped the phone back into his coat pocket, squared his shoulders, and turned down the corridor. There was another report waiting, another case already ticking into life.
Chapter 10
Twenty Years Later
Thane
A bead of sweat traced its way down her spine, catching the low light that filtered through the half-shuttered window. Her back, littered with small scars, arched slightly as she braced herself against the battered workbench. His hand traced the knobs of her spine. The room smelled of sawdust, metal, and someone’s forgotten lunch.
“Harder,” she moaned, her nails digging into his hip.
Thane’s hand rested at the small of her back, holding her steady as he watched his cock disappear into her slick pussy. His breath was harsh against her shoulder as his other hand slid down, anchoring her against him, making her stand on tiptoes to accommodate his height. Their bodies moved in rhythm—urgent and brutal one second, then slow and lazy the next.
She gasped, fingers tightening on the edge of the bench. “Don’t stop.”
