Well, she may be able to wait that long. But I can’t. If she doesn’t come to me, I’ll go to her.
It was already nearly night-time, the shadows of the Canary Wharf skyscrapers stretching across to trace lines on the floor of his living room; just a week after the shortest day of the year it would be dark in another hour.
Okay, that’s my deadline. Five o’clock, full dark. If she’s not here by five, I’ll bandage up my face again and head down to the Clinic. If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed, then Mohammed will go find the damn mountain and tell her that he’s real sorry and that he’d love to take her up on her offer—
The doorbell rang. Jon was on his feet and sprinting across the room before the peal had even finished: he ripped the door open so fast he nearly tore it off its hinges. In that split-second, he realised that he hadn’t taken any security precautions at all, hadn’t asked who it was or looked through the peephole; with Dasha Khalovksy’s threat hanging over his head, that was a slip in self-protection that could have cost him his life.
The crazy thing was, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about a damn thing but seeing if it was Aniela at the door, getting to her as quickly as possible. She was standing there, a coat over her uniform, outdoor shoes on her feet, her finger only just leaving the bell, looking taken aback at how fast he’d answered it.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘I’m sorry, I was out – I had an emergency at home, I had to go back there and my pager was out of range. I only just got back and saw that you had rung—’
And then she squealed in shock, because he had picked her up, kicked the door shut behind her, and was carrying her into the apartment, down the hall, into his bedroom, his mouth on hers, or at least at first: he tried to kiss her as he walked, but that didn’t work, because their bodies were moving so quickly, and his priority was to get her to that damn bed as soon as he possibly could. So he just kept going, reached the bedroom, and pretty much threw her onto the mattress, landing beside her, unbuttoning her coat, some of the buttons flying off in his haste, tearing the cheap felt fabric off her shoulders, ripping at her uniform, pulling it up, pulling her dress up to her waist.
He knew his haste was okay, because she was helping him, lifting her bottom to help him hook his fingers in the waistband of her tights and panties and pull them down to her knees; behind him, he heard her kick off her shoes, and as he bared the join of her legs he pressed his mouth against her, kissing her, hoping to God it was how she liked it, what she wanted; she was wet, and getting wetter, so that had to be a good sign, didn’t it? He had no idea what he was doing, but figured that it had to be the same kind of rules for a woman going down on a man: no teeth, lots of tongue and lips, careful with the pressure, and the louder her moans get, the more you’re on target...
He glanced up, along the length of her body, his mouth still working away, and saw that her head was tilted back, her arms stretched out on either side of her body, hands grabbing handfuls of the duvet, spread-eagled, crucified. And I’m doing this, he thought with great pride. It’s all me. I’m making her feel this good, making her moan and scream and arch her hips even harder against me—
She let out a long wail of pleasure; the arms outstretched along the duvet spasmed, hands clenching into fists, and then releasing as her hips collapsed onto the bed, her legs around him going limp. He was hugely smug, absolutely satisfied with his own achievement. Like hitting a home run your first ever time at bat, he thought complacently, sliding up her, kissing his way as he went. He was so pleased with himself that he had temporarily forgotten his own needs; his cock, which had been wedged against the duvet, sandwiched between his own weight and the mattress, had been highly stimulated by the pressure and was now, as he lay on top of Aniela, nudging its way hopefully between her legs.
He was kissing her, deep and delicious, their mouths wet and lubricious, feeling her arms wrap around him, pull him even closer. His cock slid further; she was so damp now and he was so hard that he began to enter her, with no help from either of them, no hands reaching down to guide him. He knew he shouldn’t, that he needed a condom, but it felt so wonderful, and he was already half inside her, and she was gasping under him and clutching his shoulders and tilting her pelvis to make it even easier, so he could slide fully into her, his entire length enveloped in her hot clinging warmth.
I mustn’t move, he thought. I mustn’t risk coming. But it feels so wonderful – he lay there, propping some of his weight on his elbows, managing at least not to smother her, just feeling his cock inside her with utter and complete satisfaction as he kissed her, kept on kissing her, kissed her till he had no idea how long he’d been kissing her, till he couldn’t even tell the difference between his tongue and hers, his lips and hers; he was in a trance of delight.
It was Aniela, below him, who eventually turned her mouth away from his enough to gasp: ‘I have condoms – I brought condoms, let me get them—’
Jon was in a state of perfect suspension; he wanted both to get the condom but also to stay inside her for ever, and it was Aniela, wriggling sideways to reach the pocket of her coat, which was caught under their bodies, who dislodged him; he couldn’t have done it of his own volition. It was almost painful to come out of her, to feel his cock once more bobbing in the colder air outside her warm body. He wanted to whimper like a dog, felt ridiculously sad, and the moment she ripped open the packet and stroked the condom onto him he was inside her again so fast she gasped again, all in one stroke, his balls pressed up against her snugly, firmly. It felt amazing. He didn’t want to pull back, not at all. He wanted to stay like this, and so he started to rock back and forth, tilting on his elbows and his knees, his extreme fitness allowing him complete control of both his body and hers. He’d never done it like this before, never seen it done in porn either. It felt insanely intimate, so close that he could kiss her, keep kissing her as he rocked back and forth, feeling his cock grasped tightly inside her, her breasts and stomach soft beneath him, her wide hips cradling him perfectly.
He was beginning to wonder if, much as he was loving this, it was doing anything for her; he pulled back to look down at her, the angle at which their bodies were linked changing as he did so, and instantly her arms, which were wrapped around his shoulders, tightened, dragging him back down again.
‘Don’t stop,’ she panted against his mouth. ‘Don’t stop, please...’
Well, okay! I guess it’s working for her too. He sank on top of her again, and she pulled him even tighter, taking almost all of his weight on her pelvis now as they found the same rhythm again. She was breathing heavily, her head thrown back now against the pillows, and he propped himself just above her so he could watch what was happening to her face; her pupils were dilated, her lips parted, bright red dots glowing on her pale cheeks. She was starting to pant in time with every sway of his hips into hers and her hands dug into his shoulders with surprising strength as her eyes shut, the blonde lashes fluttering above her cheekbones, and, deep in her throat, a long slow hum started to vibrate. It rose and fell, and he listened to it, completely enchanted, extra careful not to change the rhythm in the slightest; he didn’t know exactly what was going on, but clearly it was a good thing, and he’d hold out as long as he could to keep watching her, listening to the sound she was making, be sure that, whatever was happening, she was enjoying herself.
He had no idea how long it lasted. It was only when her eyes opened again, their expression dazed, staring straight into his without even seeming to see him, when she went limp under him, her hands finally loosening their death-grip on his shoulders, that the pressure in his groin burst and diffused without his even consciously choosing to let go. It poured out of him like a dyke bursting open, very different from the orgasms he’d had before; just as intense, but wider somehow. Even with the condom on, it felt as if his sperm were flooding through her entire body, to every fingertip and toe, suffusing her with its heat. And it seemed to last for minutes, holding him in suspended a
nimation, his body rigid as his balls and cock throbbed in ecstasy, coming and coming until, when he could no longer hold himself up at all, and collapsed helplessly on top of her, he felt as drained as if he’d lost pints of vital fluids.
It was all he could do to somehow reach down and ease off the condom before he fell back against her, his head on her breasts, feeling her stroking his hair, kissing his scalp, her other arm tight around him. They were damp with sweat, their scents mingled. He licked salt from a little pool in the hollow between her breasts and didn’t know if it were his or hers.
‘Rubens,’ he muttered drowsily, knowing there was something he’d meant to tell her.
Her hand on his head stilled.
‘I don’t know that word,’ she said. ‘What does it mean?’
‘It’s a name,’ he said. ‘The name of a painter. You look like the women in his pictures. White skin, fair hair. Pretty little – uh, bosoms and lovely big hips.’
He stroked one of her breasts. ‘Soft,’ he said sleepily. ‘Soft like velvet.’ He yawned deeply.
Sleep, he thought happily, every muscle in his body pleasantly slack; only now did he realise how tense he must have been before she appeared on his doorstep. We can crash for a while, then have something to eat. I’m going to be starving after this. Then we can do it all over again – fuck, sleep, eat.
Sounds perfect.
The doorbell wasn’t actually that loud, but Jon and Aniela were so relaxed that it sounded like a klaxon to both of them. They jumped; Jon, with a soldier’s ability to fall asleep almost instantly, had already been five fathoms deep, and he jerked awake with a start, his arms flexing, pushing himself off the bed and onto his feet in one swift swing. He was still in his T-shirt; he grabbed his sweatpants, dragged them on, and turned to look at her. She was struggling out of their post-sex haze, frowning, her eyes wide, not understanding why he had snapped into action so fast.
‘What—’ she began, but already he was holding a finger to his lips, signalling her to be quiet.
As she obeyed, he flattened his palm and pushed it towards her, telling her to stay in the bedroom. Keeping the door shut would look suspicious; he left it ajar as he slipped soundlessly towards the front door, tying the cord at the waist of his pants. An unexpected visitor – or visitors – could mean only one thing. It was Dasha Khalovsky, with or without accompanying goons, and the last thing he wanted was for that woman to have any idea that Aniela even existed, let alone was involved with him.
‘Yeah?’ he called out, doing his best to sound as if he’d been woken from a nap by the bell; it wasn’t much of a stretch. ‘Who is it?’
‘Let me in,’ she hissed, not wanting to say her name, out there in the corridor where anyone could hear. ‘I am alone.’
He went through the same routine as before, jerking open the door, pulling her in front of him, frisking her thoroughly once he had her inside and between him and any guy with a gun she might have brought along with her. She kept trying to talk, but he paid no attention till he was sure she wasn’t carrying: then, leaning against the living-room wall, strategically positioned so that she couldn’t get past him to the bedroom, he said:
‘Okay, start again from the beginning.’
Dasha Khalovsky drew in a deep breath of frustration, her lips, big with filler, pursing crossly.
‘Are you deaf? It’s off! The hit is off!’ she said. ‘I came to tell you. That’s okay, right?’
His eyebrows shot up, which would have hurt if he’d let himself register it.
‘Sure,’ he said slowly. ‘No skin off my nose.’
‘You’ve got enough problems there already,’ she said, with more wit than he’d have given her credit for. She pulled out a packet of cigarettes from her bag and a big, shiny gold lighter; Jon shook his head as she offered him the pack. Without asking if it was okay to smoke, she lit up, the lighter snapping like a trap as it opened and closed.
‘So,’ she said, exhaling smoke from both nostrils, ‘that’s it. As you were, okay? Whatever plan you had, you can call it off. I want my husband live and kicking.’
‘Hey.’ Jon spread his hands wide. ‘He’s your husband. But this is it, Mrs Khalovsky. You had your chance, and you’ve changed your mind. Once you walk out this door, you have no hold on me. You got it?’
She nodded, a brief downward jerk of her head.
‘Not good enough. You better make me believe it,’ he said tersely. ‘You don’t want me taking you out to make damn sure you don’t come back for another freebie, do you?’
‘Fine!’ she snapped, flicking ash on the carpet. ‘I swear it on my sons’ lives, okay? Once I walk out, we’re done. I forget you existed. And I tell my investigators to do the same.’
It was Jon’s turn to nod.
‘We’re done here,’ he said, gesturing to the door. ‘After you.’
Dasha Khalovksy didn’t want to linger in the apartment of an ex-hitman whom she had blackmailed into killing her husband any more than Jon wanted her to hang around; in a swish of fur and bouncing yellow ringlets, she stepped quickly to the door and exited without another word or a look back. Jon closed and locked it behind her, coughing at the fug of smoke and Giorgio she had left in her wake. Then he dashed back into the bedroom. Aniela was sitting up, the duvet pulled to her chest, her eyes full of questions.
‘You need to get out of here,’ he said intently. ‘It’s not safe here any more. Get up and get dressed, now.’
‘But she said—’
‘She was lying through her teeth.’ He pulled out his suitcase from the built-in cupboard and started throwing his clothes in it.
‘You mean she still wants you to kill her husband?’ Aniela was utterly confused.
‘No, that bit was true. She lied about forgetting I existed. Now she has to kill me, just in case I go to her husband and tell him about the contract she put out on him. I recorded her just now, and she’s got to assume I might have done something like that. If she could have pulled off walking in here and shooting me in the head, she’d have done it.’
Aniela’s mouth was open.
‘Why didn’t she?’
‘Who the hell knows? The important thing is she has no idea about you and me. I want you to go back to the Clinic, stay there, lock yourself in. Tomorrow, you come by here as usual – there’ll be a note on the door to say I checked myself out. That covers you. You go tell Nassri straight away, just like you would if another patient took off without warning. Don’t come inside this apartment. That’s the most important thing, okay? If they come back while you’re inside, you’ll be in deep shit. Promise me you’ll do exactly what I say.’
She was pulling her bra back on, buttoning up her uniform, her eyes on him.
‘I promise. But what about you?’ she asked, her voice trembling just a little. ‘What will you—’
He was shaking his head.
‘I’m not going to tell you. You know nothing, and that’s how you got to act if anyone asks you. Get out of here now, fast. Take the stairs to that actress’s floor and call the elevator from there, so no one sees it coming from this floor.’
She was slipping on her shoes; he grabbed her coat off the bed and threw it at her, taking her arm, marching her to the door. Amazingly, she didn’t say another word. This is the kind of woman you want around in a crisis, he thought. Calm, no panic, no fuss. At the front door, he kissed her, hard and fast, not a goodbye, a marker for the future; he felt his cock stir the instant his mouth touched hers. She kissed him back just as hard, her hands gripping the back of his neck for a moment, pulling his head down, her tongue in his mouth just as much of a marker as his was in hers.
‘I’ll find you,’ he said, looking down at her. ‘When it’s safe. I promise, I’ll come find you.’
There were tears in her eyes, but she didn’t say a word, just looked back at him fiercely and nodded, which made the tears brim over, falling down her cheeks. Then she was through the door and out. He watched for a moment, to make
sure there was no one waiting outside, and was impressed to see that she was heading for the far staircase, the one on the other side of the building from his apartment.
And then, as a heavy fire door clanged shut in the distance, he knew she’d entered the stairwell, and made a huge effort to dismiss her from his mind.
I need to focus on fixing this problem. Disappearing for good, so Dasha Khalovsky and whatever crew she’s putting together right now have no idea where the hell to find me...
Jon’s instincts were absolutely correct. As he shot into the kitchen, scooping energy bars in boxes from the shelves into a plastic bag, fast and furious, making sure he had enough provisions to hole up for a few days, Dasha Khalovsky was downstairs in the parking garage, talking intently to two of Grigor’s bodyguards.
‘It’s the bandage guy?’ Nestor asked, spitting on the floor. ‘The one who made us look like an idiot? Fuck him! I’d do that for free.’
‘And I’ll help you,’ Ilya said intently. ‘Stupid fucking stuntman cunt, showing off jumping over tables like that. Cunt. Shall we do it now?’ He tapped the Glock in his shoulder holster. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Me too! Let’s go,’ Nestor said eagerly, only to find Dasha’s hand, with its frighteningly long and sharp dark red talons, planted squarely against his bulky chest.
‘Not now!’ she said impatiently. ‘Jesus, how stupid are you two! I just went to see him – he’ll be on his guard. And you saw how fast he moves. He’s better than both of you put together. What were you thinking – just walk up to his door, ring his bell and shoot him when he sticks his head out to make it easy for you? Do you really think he’d be stupid enough to let that happen? We don’t even know if he’s armed!’
Nestor and Ilya hung their huge heads. Dressed all in black, their bodies thick with muscle, they looked like two bears being reproved by a brightly coloured parakeet.
‘He’s not going anywhere,’ Dasha said confidently. ‘The state of his face, he needs to be near the doctor still. No, you have to wait a little. Be patient. Just a couple of days, and then I have the perfect plan to make sure he’s off his guard...’
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