I groan as I step out the front door of the bed and breakfast, my head pounding even more when my eyes are attacked by the suns glare. I slip on my sunglasses and regret drinking so much last night. My plan to return to my room for an early night vanished quickly as I lay in bed, the despair slipping in like it does most nights. It felt worse last night for some reason, and I just wanted to get numb and forget everything. A half bottle of vodka helped me with that, but I wish I hadn’t done it, especially now my head is pounding like I have Snow White’s seven dwarves mining in it.

Lowering my head, I amble to the little café at the end of the street. It’s run by a sweet old couple called Helen and Harry, and they make the best pancakes that I've ever had. My stomach churns at the thought of eating anything in the next few hours, but I need something to soak up all the alcohol that seemed such a good idea last night. The bell above the door rings as I enter, and Helen’s head pops up over the counter.

“Grant, you're late this morning. I was beginning to worry.” She walks from behind the counter and engulfs me in a powerful hug that a tiny woman like her shouldn’t manage. She pushes me back and glares at me. “Are you hung-over again?”

I don’t know how she does it, but guilt spreads through me. This was one of the first places I visited when I arrived in town, my stomach rumbling after hours of travelling. She gave me one look and told me that I needed to be looked after. She unofficially adopted me that day, and she can scowl like my grandmother used to do. It takes me back to my childhood, making me feel like a guilty child when she looks at me like she's doing now.

She tuts before pushing me towards the stools at the counter. “What have I told you about drinking so much? I swear you young ones never learn. Now you sit there and let me make you something to eat. It will make you feel better.”

I take a seat and remove my sunglasses so I can watch her making me breakfast. I'm the only one in the café just now so I get her full attention, which I'm not sure is a good thing when she turns and looks at me. She rolls her eyes at me, and I can’t blame her. I tried to avoid looking at my reflection this morning, but I caught a glimpse when I was brushing my teeth, and I know it’s not pretty.

A mug of coffee appears in front of me before she returns to the flat top behind the counter to make me pancakes and bacon. When the smell of the food hits me, instead of it turning my stomach, it makes it rumble, and I suddenly feel hungry.

“Harry! Grant is here.”

I jump at Helen’s sudden shout towards the kitchen. I look over at the door, and a few moments later the small frame of Harry walks through the swinging doors.

“Grant, my boy. How are you today?” He scrunches his eyes and looks closely at me. “Well, looks like someone had a good night last night.” He chuckles before grabbing the coffee pot and topping up my untouched mug.

“Nothing that exciting, Harry. Just needed to have a night of no thinking. You know how it is?”

He nods and gives me a sympathetic look. The story I told everyone was I came here after losing a good friend, which wasn’t a lie, but the way I told the story it made it sound like that he had died. I didn’t go into details, allowing them to believe whatever they wanted.

A plate is put down in front of me and I can feel my mouth fill with saliva at the sight. Three super thick pancakes are stacked on top of each with a mountain of bacon that goes against the laws of gravity.

“Get that inside you. If it doesn’t kill you, it will cure you.” Helen pats my hand and leaves me to attempt to finish the enormous plate of food in front of me.

Ten minutes later and I’m struggling to finish. I've managed two pancakes and most of the bacon, but the last pile of food might just be my downfall.

Helen appears in front of me and giggles as she places a glass of water next to my plate. “You know, I didn’t expect you to finish the whole thing.”

I groan at her, wishing I’d given up about half a pancake ago. “Would have been handy to know that before I had to create a new stomach.”

She laughs again and leans against the counter. “At least now I know you won’t go hungry. Are you feeling any better?”

I nod my head as I push my plate away and grab the glass of water. I take a couple of small sips so I don’t make myself sick.

“Good. I know you think I'm just a nosey old woman, but I worry about you.”

I go to speak, but she holds up her to stop me.

“You have suffered a great loss, but I don’t want you to lose yourself as you grieve. Alcohol isn’t the way to hide from the pain. You need to embrace it. It’s the only way to get past the emotions. I’ve seen too many good men lose themselves to drink, and I don’t want that for you. I know I haven’t known you long, but I can see it clearly in your eyes, Grant, you’re one of the good ones.”

My throat tightens with emotion and I struggle to hold back the tears building in my eyes. I haven’t had anyone care enough to save me from myself in a very long time. I don’t know what to say to her, and luckily I'm saved from answering when the bell above the door goes. With a final squeeze of my hand, Helen walks away to greet the new customer. I spend a few minutes blinking rapidly to try and avoid making a scene.

Helen’s happy voice blends into the soft music that’s playing overhead as I grab my wallet and put some money down on the counter. Helen won’t be pleased that I've paid, and next time I come in, she’ll have something to say to me, but I will explain to her again that giving out free food is no way to run a business. As little money as I have, I refuse to take advantage of Helen and Harry’s generosity. I turn towards Helen to say goodbye, but the guy she's talking to catches my attention.

Ringing starts in my ears and I struggle to catch my breath as I stare at the guy. It takes me a few moments to come to my senses and start listening to the conversation.

“Oh, Corey. I swear you could charm the birds out of the trees.”

“You know it’s not the birds I'm after, Helen. Well, unless you’ve changed your mind about running away with me?”

Helen giggles, but all I can focus on is him. I am finally looking at Corey and I have no idea what to do.

“Oh, hush. Now, what are you after? You’re early so I don’t have your muffins ready yet.”

“I know, but I was in town for an errand so I thought I would pop in before heading home.”

I get up from the stool so quickly that both of them look over at me with confused expressions on their faces. I avert my gaze but not before making eye contact with Corey. He smiles at me and my stomach tumbles towards my feet. I give Helen a quick wave before rushing out of the café. The strange feeling in my stomach follows me out into the street, and I walk as quickly as possible without drawing attention to myself. I cross the road, and when I get to the small car park where I've had my car since I arrived, I unlock it and get in. Starting the engine, I reverse and park again a few spaces to the left so I have a clear view of the café door. This could be my only shot at finding out where Corey lives, and I refuse to miss the chance.

Safely parked again, I turn off the engine and slip down into my seat. My heart is racing with adrenaline, and I twitch my leg to try and ease some of the built-up energy. I go back over what I heard him talking about in the café and I realise that Helen had mentioned his usual order and him being early. Shit, have I missed him by mere seconds every time I've gone there? All this time and I’ve been so fucking close.

I bang my head against the seat and curse my terrible luck. I'm just about to headbutt the seat again when the door to the café opens and Corey exits with a massive smile on his face. I’ve seen pictures of him before but seeing him in the flesh isn’t what I expected. After everything he’s been through with the prostitution ring and the possible abuse, I expected to see his past etched clearly on his face, but he genuinely looks happy. He nods his head at someone as he passes them on the street and it confuses me. He shouldn’t be this happy with life, not after everything that's happened to him, and it makes me wonder where he's hiding the pain from the darkness he's lived through. No one could walk away from that without being affected by it. It’s just not possible.

I'm pulled from my head when he climbs into a small blue Golf that’s parked at the side of the road and starts to drive out of the village. I sit up and start the car as quickly as possible before following the direction of the Golf. It takes me a few minutes to get onto the road, and I start to worry that I'm going to lose him, but as I head over the small bridge that leads out of the village, I see his car in front of me. I get as close to him as I dare, tailing him as I repeat his number plate in my head. I need to remember it so I can give it to Sam to run, get him to find out as much as he can about the owner of the car. It might not be Corey’s, but it belongs to someone who knows him. I pull back slightly when he indicates and turns left onto a nearly invisible dirt road. It’s too risky to follow him directly onto the road, so I keep moving in hopes I don’t become too obvious.

I drive a few hundred yards past the turn and park in a gravel lay-by on the side of the road. I use the rearview mirror to watch the dirt track to make sure that Corey isn’t going to suddenly appear again. Even though I kept a good distance from his car, I can’t be completely certain he didn’t see me. I almost hold my breath as I imagine Corey’s car coming around the corner at speed and disappearing into the distance. Now that I’ve finally found him, I don't want to risk possibly losing him.

It takes me about ten minutes for me to feel confident enough to turn off the car engine. When I do, silence engulfs me. It’s only now that it registers that no other car has driven past me since I’ve been here, and I wonder if this is why Corey is living so far away from town. Is it the privacy that appeals to him, the quiet and open spaces, or is he hiding from everyone so no one asks too many questions?

Getting out of the car, I close the door quietly behind me so the noise doesn’t give my location away. Locking the car, I walk to the edge of the wooded area next to the road and enter it carefully, heading in the direction that I hope will lead me to Corey.

The ground is littered with fallen branches and weeds, making it tough to get through. I struggle for the first few hundred yards, my feet continually catching on the undergrowth. I move in the direction that I think the dirt track is, and I'm thankful when the ground clears a little.

With every step I take I start to doubt my plan, and when I catch my first sight of the dirt track, I begin to question if I'm doing the right thing. What if I go there and he has nothing to do with Blue Diamond? What if I have the wrong guy altogether? On the other side of things, he could be armed and dangerous, and me asking questions could put me in danger. I have my police training, but that is no match for a gun.

My inner musings stop when I realise that I’ve come to the edge of the wood. In front of me is a large clearing with a small cabin, and in front of that cabin is Corey’s blue Golf. I stare at Corey’s car wondering what to do now. I've spent a lot of energy trying to find Corey, but not once did I think about what to do once I saw him. I need to decide if I'm going for the direct approach, the one where I knock on the front door and say hi. The risk with that is he will recognise me from the café and call the police because I followed him. No, I think it would probably be better if I have a look around, see if he’s alone or not.

With that decision finally made, I slip around to the side of the cabin, keeping to the edge of the trees so I won’t be seen from any of the windows that run along the wall. I circle the cabin, finishing up on the opposite side. It isn’t a particularly large cabin, but each side holds enough windows that I need to make sure to keep hidden from. On this side, there is also a set of glass doors that I will need to stay away from.

Keeping low, I rush forward until I'm able to press my back against the side wall. I take a moment to catch my breath. I feel like I’ve run ten miles but I know it’s only the adrenaline making my body overreact. I edge my way along the wall until I reach the set of doors, stopping and listening carefully for any signs of life inside. When I'm sure that there is no one on the other side of the glass, I lean forward slowly and look around the corner of the doorframe. I keep alert as I scan the room, ready to run instantly if I'm seen, but the room inside is empty. The room looks like it might be a living room or den, a large corner couch taking up most of the room. The only other thing I can see is a large entertainment unit that holds a TV. The furniture is sparse, but it still manages to look comfortable and homely.

When nothing else of importance catches my attention, I pull my head back and creep slowly towards the back of the cabin, my pulse beating in my ears. I still for a moment and take a deep breath. This is no different than going on a raid, even if I am doing it on my own. I just need to treat it the same, keep calm and work through the whole area methodically, even if my nerves are making my palms sweat. The thoughts are enough to get my head straight, and by the time I look around the edge of the next window frame, I feel like I'm in full control of myself again. This time I'm met with a small but bright kitchen with a large central island running across the middle. The whole room is clean and clutter-free, but the most obvious thing is that it’s empty. That’s the two main living areas clear, now to move to the rear of the house.

I check the next two windows but find nothing but a small storage room and a frosted window that I suspect might be a bathroom. Neither gave me any clue to where Corey might be and that leads me towards the back of the cabin. Just around the corner, there is a large single window. I approach it and listen for a second. With every room that’s cleared, I run the risk of Corey being in the next one, so it’s time to take a little more precaution. Hearing nothing from inside, I look through the glass and see a bedroom inside. There’s a double bed and dresser, but again it’s empty. This room looks like it isn’t used, the empty feeling apparent even from here.

I'm starting to think that Corey isn’t in the cabin, that maybe he left while I've been searching for him. That would just be my luck, losing my only chance to get any information on him because I took too long to search. I refuse to give up though, and I continue on my journey along the back wall of the cabin. The next window shows another small room, this one with a computer desk and some filing cabinets. I take an extra few minutes to look around this room properly, hoping that if there were anything to see it would in here, but there's no information that I could see. I'm met with another bathroom, or that’s what the frosted window again hints at. That’s every room on this side of the cabin checked, leaving one more side of windows to check.

I crack my neck to try and ease the tension I can feel building there and let a deep breath out before turning the last corner. I lean out and look down the length of the wall and see three windows lining it. Edging to the first window, I freeze when I hear movements inside. I press back against the wall and listen for a few moments before lowering myself as silently as possible until I'm squatting at the edge of the windowsill. I take a few deep breaths edging myself forward, making sure to keep my movements slow and precise.

My eyes dart around quickly, and I note briefly that it’s another bedroom, but the man inside catches my full attention. The man that I've spent all this time trying to find and he’s standing right there with his back to me. I watch him as he pulls some clothes from a tallboy and throws them on the bed. He has music on, and I can hear it slightly through the glass, but even if I couldn’t, I could tell he was listening to something because his hips are swaying as he dances. I let my eyes roam around the room in short spells before returning to him. There is a bed just like in the other room, but this one feels more lived in, and with the personal items lying about, I know this is where he sleeps. Aftershave on the top of the tallboy, an alarm on the bedside unit, and clothes draped over a chair in the corner. It all points to this being his room.

Movement makes me turn back to Corey as he moves across the room to the iPod and presses a button, making the music louder. I should move on from this window now that I know where he is, but I just can’t seem to look away. He rocks his hips wider, and a small smile tugs at the edge of my lips as I watch him give in to the music. He seems completely lost in the moment, and again it makes me think that he doesn’t look like someone who went through hell at the hands of others. He just seems too happy, too content.

My eyes widen when Corey grips the hem of his shirt and strips it off his body, throwing it on the floor before moving quickly on to his jeans. I should look away, but my brain doesn’t register anything until his fingers slip into the top of his boxer shorts. That’s when the watching thing becomes creepy and I need to stop. I’ve confirmed that Corey lives here so that’s enough for today, but when the material hits the floor, my eyes widen at the sight before me. Holy fuck. Seeing Corey naked has the world vanishing from around me. He must sense me staring because he turns and looks directly at me. Our eyes connect for a fraction of a second before I drop to my arse on the ground. Shit, shit, shit. I need to get out of here.

I crawl quickly to the back of the cabin and get to my feet before sprinting towards the tree line. I don’t worry about being seen again. The only need I have is to get out of here. I don’t stop running until I enter the shadows, and even then I run for a few more minutes before hiding behind a large tree trunk. I lean my back against the rough bark as I try to catch my breath. My chest continues to heave, but it’s not from the sprint. No, it's from what I saw when Corey turned to face me fully. It was the final confirmation I needed to prove that he'd been in the compound at one point in his life. The black J tattooed on the chest was all the proof I needed.