by Ingrid Fry
It appeared all hands were under the table. My intoxicated brain undertook a sluggish process of deduction. Jason was on my left, so it was probably Jason’s right hand. But what if it was Ashley’s left hand, on my left leg? Unlikely, but he would do something like that, the trickster.
Because I couldn’t work out for sure whose hand it was, I had a brain freeze. I sat immobile feeling someone’s hand working its way slowly upward.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jason said, looking concerned.
I inhaled sharply through my nose as the hand reached its target and my body quivered involuntarily.
It had to be Ashley. Jason wouldn’t do this in a public place.
‘Um, yeah, I’m fine,’ I said, wriggling to try and avoid the probing fingers.
Ashley regarded me with amusement. ‘You look flushed. Sure you’re all right?’
Jason turned my face towards his and he kissed me.
Who the hell was it? Grab the hand and then you’d know.
So, I did. It was Jason.
Ashley gave me a twitch of a smile. He lifted both hands from under the table and wrapped them around his glass.
Jason! Who knew? Wonders never ceased.
Ashley leant over and put his mouth against my ear. Taking off James Bond he whispered, ‘You look hot, my dear. Can I get you a martini? Shaken, not stirred?’ My body tingled with his breath and voice in my ear. ‘Jason’s a lucky man.’
I squeezed his hand.
‘How come you’re not wearing your rings?’ he asked.
My hands were bare. ‘Oh, I forgot! I can’t remember when I last saw them. I hope they’re not lost.’ A surge of panic twisted my stomach. ‘Can I have the room card? I need to go find them.’ Jason had given me those rings, so they were precious.
‘Here ‘tis.’ Ashley handed me the card.
‘I’ll escort you back,’ Jason said, ‘with your high heels an’ all.’
‘Thank you, but I’ll be fine. Back in a flash.’
Ashley stood up to let me out, bowing solemnly.
Feeling hot and bothered, I welcomed the chance to stretch my legs and get a change of air. I tried to walk like I’d been wearing high heels forever and not stagger or fall. God knows how it came across. I glanced back at Jason and Ashley, and they were smiling, giving me the thumbs up.
The waiter was still giving me the eye so maybe I was doing okay.
Having left the restaurant, I whipped off the stilettos and stood on the marble floors in my stockinged feet. I wiggled my toes. The tiles were cool and soothing—bliss. Stupid shoes. I almost skipped to the lift lobby, shoes in hand.
While I waited for the lift, the waiter from the restaurant joined me. I read his name badge. ‘Hello, Dylan, where are you heading?’
‘Lounge on the thirty-first floor. I’m finishing my shift there.’ He smiled. ‘How do you know my name?’
‘I’m psychic. No, just kidding.’ I pointed to his name badge and he rolled his eyes.
‘Of course. You’re in the Diplomatic Suite.’
‘How do you know?’
‘The key card you’re holding.’
I laughed. ‘Oh, of course! I thought you were psychic.’
He was a somber looking chap, French, Arabic maybe? Dark eyebrows curved sardonically over extremely pale blue eyes. The rim of his iris was dark in comparison, appearing alien under his long dark lashes. A black, extended goatee set off his full lips.
The lift arrived, and we entered and stood watching the illuminated numbers flash by. The lift was paneled with mirrors so it was hard not look at your reflection. Dylan straightened his collar and his shirt cuffs slipped back to reveal what appeared to be a Catherine wheel tattoo on his wrist.
By the time we’d reached the thirty-first floor my heart was beating like a bass drum. The lift bell dinged and the doors slid open. A group of people waited outside. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Dylan turned to me. ‘Have a lovely evening, Maggie.’ He headed off towards the lounge bar. I hightailed it to our room, my heart still pounding in my ears. Hastily closing the suite door behind me, I leant against it, and took long slow breaths, trying to steady my racing heart. I needed to find my rings. Where were they? The waiter seemed pleasant, really. Maybe I was wrong about the tattoo? I was half cut after all.
Feeling groggy, I bumbled around the suite looking for likely places I could’ve left my rings. They were sitting behind a soap dish in the bathroom. The spa bath was full—Jason must’ve had a spa and left the water in. The bath was so inviting, with the view out over the town. It would be wonderful to strip off and slip into it for some peace and quiet, and gaze out at the gorgeousness of the city. No time for that—the guys would be wondering where I was. I’d better get back.
I collected my high heels and threw them in the sink while I put on my rings. Damn shoes. I’d walk back down in stockinged feet. I checked my hair in the mirror and gasped at Dylan’s reflection behind me.
‘Hello again, Maggie.’
Oh shit, of course. He knew my name. They all knew my name, even though I wasn’t wearing a nametag.
‘Time is running out for you,’ he said. ‘Where are the crystals?’
He spoke like a robot and then moved so rapidly it was like time fast-forwarded. He grabbed my hair and yanked me towards him.
‘Where. Are. The. Crystals?’ He jerked my hair with each word before pushing me against the towel rail. He pressed hard against me, so close I felt his breath on my face.
‘Crystals? I, I ... d ... don’t know. Dylan, there are cameras in the corridor. They’ll catch you. Please let me go.’
‘No cameras. I’ve made sure of it.’
‘Read my lips,’ I said. ‘I. Don’t. Know!’ I spat the words at him. ‘I’ve been through this before. Don’t you idiots communicate?’
‘You do know.’ Dylan twisted my hair tight around his wrist and pulled my head back. He pressed the fingers of his other hand over my lips, and dragged them heavily over my mouth, pulling my bottom lip over. He shoved his fingers into my mouth, and I gagged at the bitter taste of tobacco, urine and God knew what else. He sniggered, as he continued along the front of my neck and sternum. Pausing there, he pressed his hand between my breasts. ‘Left, or right? Decisions, decisions,’ he muttered, leaning into me. He chose, and seized my right breast, squeezing it hard. I screamed.
‘Get your hands off me!’ I tried to knee him in the balls. Dylan was fast, turning to avoid the blow. Reaching back, he brought out a gun and cocked the trigger. He scrutinised me with his alien eyes before pointing the gun at my head.
‘Old fashioned gun you got there, mister. Roach not looking after you with the latest kit? Tsk, tsk.’
‘It works. That’s all you need to concern yourself with.’ He let go of my hair and clutched at my breast again. I shrieked and he slapped his hand over my mouth, shoving my head back against the wall.
‘Don’t scream or do anything stupid. I will shoot you.’ He pushed the barrel of the gun into my forehead. ‘Right here. Or maybe here?’ He slid the gun over my eye, forcing it closed. I felt the cold steel through my eyelid. ‘Or here?’
He shifted the gun to rest in between my lips and moved the tip of the barrel up and down in my mouth so I could taste the steel.
‘You have sensuous lips.’ He traced their outline with the tip of the gun, tracked it over my chin following his previous path, and came to rest over my heart. ‘What about here? Where are the crystals, Maggie?’ He pushed the barrel hard into my chest.
Rendered mute, my body quaked in fear. I sent telepathic messages to Jason and Ashley begging for help.
‘Open your eyes. Look at me!’
I did as instructed.
Dylan ran his fingers around my left ear, pushed my hair behind it. He leant forward, still holding the gun to my chest, pressed his face against my cheek and nuzzled into my hair. His breath shuddered in my ear, and then the wetness of his tongue as he shoved it in, licking and slobbering.
A tide of revulsion coursed through my body. Images of his fantasies flooded my mind, tripling my terror. In his head, he was torturing me in the most horrific ways.
‘Since you refuse to tell me what I need to know, this is what’s going to happen.’ He stepped back, reached into his shirt pocket, and pulled out a hypodermic syringe.
‘Oh, please, please don’t!’
He held my greatest fear in his hand. I was terrified of being drugged, rendered unconscious. It happened to me in a past life. I sensed it—I knew it, and I became weak with fear.
My heart was beating in my throat, my ears deafened by its pounding. I felt hot and cold as sweat pooled on my skin. My mouth was dry, my muscles rigid, and the room compressed into a tunnel forcing me to focus solely on the nightmare standing in front of me.
He held up the syringe and compressed it to release a few drops. They caught the light like dewdrops before falling to the floor.
‘Ready?’ He fixed his alien eyes on mind and smiled.
My heart hammered like a freight train as he approached, needle at the ready. He pressed the gun into my chest and raised the needle to my neck. It scratched my skin and I jumped as the cold steel punctured my flesh.
‘Last chance,’ he said, running his tongue along the side of my face. ‘Tell me where they are.’
‘Okay, okay! They’re over there, hidden under the pile of towels.’
He twisted his head to look. ‘Finally. Thank you, Maggie.’
I grabbed a shoe from the sink, and as he turned back, I jammed the heel of my stiletto right through his eyeball.
‘My pleasure,’ I said, using both hands to shove it in further. The stiletto travelled in as far as it could go. He screamed and fell backwards, smashing his head on the black and white marble floor. The gun and syringe clattered across the tiles. A trickle of blood ran from his eye and pooled on the marble. His body twitched like he’d been hit by a Taser.
My body trembled with adrenaline as a young man with a shoe in his head died violently at my feet. I promptly threw up over the bathroom floor. I was still vomiting when Jason and Ashley burst through the door.[23]
Chapter 24: Hot Chocolate
Jason and Ashley had guns in their hands. They froze, taking in the scene.
‘Jesus Christ! Are you okay?’ Jason asked.
I nodded in the affirmative, although I definitely wasn’t okay. I was as far from okay as I could possibly be.
Ashley pocketed his gun and stooped to retrieve Dylan’s. As he did, he noticed the syringe and picked it up too.
Jason stared at the man with a shoe sticking out of his eye. ‘Holy shit, it’s the guy from the restaurant!’
‘His name’s Dylan.’
‘How come you always know your assailants’ names?’ Jason asked.
‘They seem to know mine.’
Ashley held out the syringe for Jason to see. ‘Check this out.’
‘Bloody hell! Did he use it?’
Ashley held the syringe to the light. ‘Doesn’t look like it. Probably Pentothal, truth serum.’
I started to sob uncontrollably. ‘I’ve ... ruined ... our evening.’
Ashley stepped over Dylan and hugged me. ‘I hardly think it’s your fault, luv.’
‘Ashley, move it!’ Jason shouted. ‘Roach! Dylan’s gonna blow.’
A large, black, shiny cockroach wriggled out of Dylan’s mouth. It paused, turned towards me and hissed.
Ashley swept me into his arms, leapt across the body, and was out the door, yelling for Jason to shut it. He slammed it behind us and Jason and Ashley ran full pelt along the corridor to put distance between the roach and us. We were running in a wind tunnel. Air rushed past us blowing back our hair and buffeting our bodies, as it was sucked through the corridor by the black hole forming in the bathroom.
We made it to the lounge and closed the master suite door. Ashley kissed my forehead and whispered, ‘I wanted to hold you in my arms all night, but not like this. I will never let you out of my sight again.’
He sat me on the couch. ‘Jason, wrap Maggie in a blanket and put your arms around her. I’m going to make us hot chocolate.’
‘Hot chocolate?’ Jason said. ‘Now?’
‘Yes. There’s some in the kitchenette.’
Ashley pointed to the coffee table. ‘Light those vanilla candles too.’
‘Candles?’ Jason stared at Ashley like this time he really had gone insane.
‘Do it. Some soft classical music too.’
He dutifully followed Ashley’s instructions and wrapped the blanket around me. It was warm and comforting, and the shivering in my body eased. He lit the candles, turned on the Bose SoundTouch, and selected my favourite classical composer. Sitting next to me, he held me close. He kissed my hair. ‘I’m so sorry for what happened.’ His laser beam eyes were dialed down to match the candlelight. His mouth was set in a thin, grave line.
Ashley came back with a wet tea towel. He knelt in front of me, and supporting my face in his hand, gently wiped away the mess left on my face, before heading back into the kitchen again.
He returned with three mugs of hot chocolate and set them on the coffee table. The scent reminded me of a café I used to go to in Switzerland. I went there every day to enjoy the sweet, frothy hot chocolate, served in silver jugs.
Ashley raced back to the kitchen and returned with three ginormous cookies. He handed me a mug and a cookie. ‘Milk and cookies. Trust me, it never fails. This will have you feeling better in no time.’
Holding the warm mug, I inhaled the sweet fragrance of chocolate. It replaced the stink of Dylan lingering in my nostrils.
I bit into the chocolate cookie—soft and delicious. The scent of vanilla, the rich taste of chocolate, walnuts and coconut displaced the taste of cold steel remaining on my lips and tongue.
Closing my eyes, I breathed in the delicious aromas. Ashley was right; I felt better. I opened my eyes to see two concerned faces looking at me.
I took another sip of the hot chocolate. ‘Who knew stilettos could serve a useful purpose after all?’
Jason rubbed my neck. ‘You did good. Amazing. I’m so sorry we weren’t there for you. I can’t forgive myself.’
Ashley’s expression was solemn. ‘Me neither.’
‘Don’t worry about it. Who’s to know? Thank God for those stilettos though.’
‘That’s the one sentence I would never have expected to hear you say in your lifetime,’ Jason said.
I nodded. ‘Maybe it’s why they call them ‘killer heels’. They not only kill your feet but are handy for dispatching bad guys.’
‘You know a stiletto is actually a dagger?’ Ashley said. ‘Back in the day the stiletto was the blade of choice for Italian assassins.’
‘It’s like the Cold Steel Torpedo,’ I said.
‘The what?’
‘A fifteen-inch Cold Steel Torpedo. It’s like what you’re talking about. I’ve got one at home.’
Ashley was flabbergasted. ‘What the hell are you doing with one of those?’
I smiled. ‘It’s part of my kit. I’ve also got a Smith & Wesson carbon steel pocket baton, UZI tactical defender pen with DNA catcher and built-in handcuff key, and three Cold Steel nine inch throwing knives made from lightweight aircraft aluminum. I can now add two guns and a stiletto shoe to my kit.’
Jason was laughing.
‘Are you kidding me?’ Ashley said.
‘No.’
Ashley turned to Jason for confirmation. He nodded. ‘It’s true.’
‘There’s obviously something you haven’t been telling me.’ He rubbed his hand through his hair. ‘And what do you mean, two guns?’
‘I mean two guns, Marlon and Dylan’s.’
‘Oh no, kiddo, you are so not playing with guns.’
‘You promised you’d give them back. Promised.’
‘Yes, after I teach you how to use them properly. It’s not easy, with the recoil. It’s dangerous. I don’t like the idea.’
‘It’s all very well for you two to sit there and say what I should and shouldn’t do, and can and can’t do. You’re not the ones being hunted by a pack of tattooed psycho killers with hissing cockroaches inside them. I need to be able to protect myself—I can’t rely on you guys.’
The boys looked chastened.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean I can’t rely on you, but I need to ... I have to—’
‘You’re right,’ Jason said. ‘We let you down, you do need something.’
‘No, you didn’t. You couldn’t know.’
The feeling in my gut was that they had let me down. It was illogical, I knew that, but it was how I felt.
‘Where did you get all that stuff you mentioned from?’ Ashley asked.
‘It was hidden in a secret compartment in a trunk my dad gave me.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep, I’ll show you when we get ho—’ I stopped, put my head in my hands and felt sick thinking about going home to the mess. I prayed Boo wasn’t injured or dead.
Jason stroked my hair. ‘Don’t worry about home. Ash and I will take care of everything. Try not to think about it, okay?’
‘I’ll try,’ I said, grateful for his reassurance.
Jason slapped an arm around Ashley. ‘Thanks for everything, mate, and for getting Maggie those shoes. They saved her life.’
‘No worries, but she saved her own life. If the shoes weren’t there she would have found something else. Probably would’ve shoved a toilet brush up his arse.’
I laughed. ‘I’d have enjoyed that.’
Jason examined the needle scratch on my neck and the round blue bruise on my chest. He pointed to the bruise. ‘What happened there?’
‘Gun,’ I said. ‘Don’t want to talk about it.’
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ashley move his hand back and forth across his neck, indicating Jason should cut it.
‘Do you think the coast is clear in the bathroom yet?’ I asked.
‘Probably, but let’s wait before we go in again,’ Ashley suggested.
‘The milk and cookies thing really helped. I feel so much better. What gives?’