Hell, I didn’t know what the truth was myself. What I’d thought might be the start of something, had turned out to be something quite other, but what…I didn’t know. Did he pity me? Did he want to use me? Whatever I was to him, I was one of a string of women – that much was clear from what Valentina had said.
I looked up at Liv, who was regarding me coolly. She shook her head, looking anxious. ‘I’m going to have to go, hon. Tell me after the gig, okay? It’ll only be an hour or so.’
‘Okay,’ I said, following her back inside. This time, the spotlights were on, and I couldn’t make out any faces in the crowd. They were all in darkness. I stepped carefully down off the stage and went to stand over against a pillar on the other side of the room to where I’d stood the last time…just in case.
Thirteen
Her
I might as well have not bothered. I’d only been standing there a few minutes, sipping at my beer, when I felt a tap on my arm. I looked around to find Chris standing at my shoulder.
‘G’day,’ he said. ‘Stranger.’
‘Uh…’ I shrank away from him, feeling the blood rushing to my cheeks, as I remembered the last time I’d seen him, and how I’d fantasised about him that very morning.
‘Thought you might be here tonight,’ he said. ‘Seeing’s your mate’s band’s on again.’
‘Yes.’ I nodded, dumbly – not sure what to say. ‘I said I’d come along and…’
‘Well, who have we here?’ Someone else spoke, on my other side. I span round to see who it was. Stef – it would be. I shrank back towards Chris, willing myself to say goodbye and head to the toilets…the bar…anywhere. But I didn’t move.
‘So,’ Stef said, running his hand down my arm. ‘Come back for more, have you? Good girl. Hope your mate’s not going to interfere this time, sticking her fucking beak in.’
‘Ignore him,’ said Chris, coming round to face me. ‘He’s just a tosser. He can’t help it.’
‘Aw, come on mate.’ Stef elbowed him out of the way, and pushed himself up against me, pulling his head back to look into my eyes. He stank of sweat and beer. They must have been drinking for hours already, but it hardly registered with me, and I stared back at him. His eyes were stunning, crinkled and dark, set with thick, straight lashes. I couldn’t look away. ‘She was gagging for it, weren’t you, babe?’
I couldn’t speak. I was starting to pant, half in panic, half in excitement. I knew I should push past him and walk away, but I couldn’t. The feeling of his hard, muscular body, in such close proximity, the memory of sucking on his cock in this very bar, the feeling of hands all over me… I was frozen to the spot.
‘See?’ said Stef, in tones of triumph. ‘She wants me. I knew she would.’
He pulled back from me and motioned over to the rest of the Aussies, in the corner of the bar. Within moments, I was surrounded by the whole group of them. They were talking and laughing excitedly, saying hello and pawing at my arms and shoulders.
There you go again, I told myself, trying desperately to put into practise the distancing technique I’d learnt earlier that day. Thinking that you want this. It’s just a thought. Recognise it, then put it to one side.
The problem was that it wasn’t just a thought – it was a feeling, and I didn’t want to put it aside, not for anything. Stef pressed himself up against me again, and I could feel his hard cock, pressing into my leg. He pulled back again briefly and, as he did so, two of the other Aussies took my arms and held them back, against the pillar.
Chris tried to push Stef aside, but he was having none of it. He lunged in to kiss me and, as he did so, grabbed the bottom of my vest, pulling it up until my bra was exposed. I knew I should try to stop him – cover myself up – but I was falling into the moment. As he traced a line up my stomach with his finger, I let out a sigh of bliss and arched my back away from the pillar, pushing myself against him.
‘For fuck’s sake, Stef!’ Chris tried again to muscle his way in. ‘Don’t do it here. Give her some credit. Everyone’s watching.’
His words jerked me out of my almost trance-like state, and I gazed around me. He was right…people were looking.
‘Fuck off, mate.’ Stef threw him an irritated look, then turned back to me, lifting both hands to caress my breasts.
But the spell was broken. All I could think of was Chris’s words; Give her some credit…everyone’s watching. He was right – Stef shouldn’t be doing this to me here, and I shouldn’t be letting him.
As I went to push him away, it dawned on me that my arms were pinned to the sides of the pillar. I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to. For a moment, I almost went with it. After all, I could enjoy it now, guilt-free…there was nothing I could do about it.
Then, the Filth Monger’s words came back to me; Don’t end up plastered across the papers, he’d said. Or, worse, dead in some gutter. Call me.
It was the push I needed to bring me to my senses – the whole fantasy shattering around me, like a mirror smashing into powdered glass. I tried to wrench away from the hands holding me, but they had me pinioned too tightly by my wrists and elbows for me to do anything but wriggle my shoulders. As I struggled, they began to cheer, and this just made me fight all the harder to free myself.
‘Calm down, babe,’ Stef said, sounding breathless. ‘You’re drawing too much attention to yourself.’ He put his fingers to the lace at the top of my bra and started to pull it down, exposing more and more of my breast until I could see the tops of my nipples. A few seconds more, and my breasts would be totally bared – just like in my fantasy – but, this time, it wouldn’t just be the Aussies who saw them. Everyone nearby was looking over, and none of them showed any signs of intervening.
I started to panic, wriggling my shoulders harder and harder, and pulling away from the pillar with all my strength. Eventually, they seemed to relent, and let go. I pushed Stef away so forcefully he went crashing into the crowd of girls behind him.
Chris was just standing there, his arms at his sides, looking horrified.
‘I’m sorry,’ I stammered, then headed for the stairs.
As I ran up them, panting with frustration and relief, I knew it was no good. Therapy wasn’t going to help because I didn’t want help, I wanted something else. God, what was wrong with me? They were just using me. They didn’t respect me at all, with the possible exception of Chris, but even he… Christ, I had no self-respect – how could I expect anyone else to respect me?
And if they could do that to me in the middle of a public bar, what would they have done if we’d been somewhere more private? My arms and shoulders were sore and aching from the struggle. I rubbed my left elbow as I left the bar. There was already a bruise coming up, just above it. If we’d been somewhere quieter, I knew they wouldn’t have let me go so easily, if at all. Not only that but, if I’d got too distressed, what would they have done to shut me up?
Don’t end up dead in some gutter.
The trouble was, despite everything, a part of me still wanted to go back into the bar, or so I told myself. I had to go home, and stay there. Liv had been right all along. I wasn’t safe out.
But I couldn’t stay in forever. At the moment, I needed to be out all the time, to take my mind off the total mess that was my life.
It was then that I realised it was time. I needed to sort my life out, and myself with it. I’d go into work in the morning, and see Max. Hopefully, he’d let me back to work after the weekend, and that would keep my mind off things. The papers would have moved onto another story by then, surely? And I’d see Jimmy, Kitty’s agent, in the afternoon, and see if I couldn’t make some real money of my own, so I could be more independent and in control.
But there was one other thing I needed to do, before any of that.
Fourteen
Him
I went down to Dominion early. I’d been trying to get hold of Rick ever since I’d arrived at Ffyvells, but there’d been no answer. I’d briefly considered texting him, bu
t I didn’t want to scare him off. Besides, there would’ve been no way of knowing if he’d seen it unless he answered, which seemed unlikely, given his radio silence.
The only thing that gave me any hope was the fact that his phone was still switched on. He hadn’t jettisoned it or, at least, not yet. I’d tried his proper mobile, but that was dead. I just had to wait to see him.
How was I going to explain that I didn’t have the money? I stood at the bar, looking out at the dance floor. The place was crowded now. It was always busy on a Thursday – in London, the weekend started early. I never understood how people could treat Thursday as the first Friday of the week, when they still had to get up for another day’s work.
I almost laughed. Christ, I’d done it myself when I was younger, and not just on Thursdays. When Aimee and I’d been together, it’d been nearly every night, not that I’d had to worry too much about being late for work. I’d never worked for anyone in my life, except the old man.
I’d always made sure I was on time, though. My father had a strong work ethic, and I’d always tried to avoid pissing him off. He was a fucking nightmare when roused. Still, if he hadn’t been so ruthless and driven, I wouldn’t have been where I was today.
Where I was today? I did laugh then. Standing in a high-end sex club – my sex club, to all intents and purposes - waiting for a blackmailer to try to fleece me out of a million quid? Fuck, I was really something to aspire to.
There were still people coming in all the time. The place was packed with people of every gender, dressed in everything from tuxedos and cocktail dresses to rubber and leather or – in the case of some of the die-hard slaves – already almost nothing at all. The clientele of Dominion represented just about every kink and fetish imaginable – the great and the good had too much time on their hands and too much money. They were so easily bored. Vanilla didn’t even come into it.
Every time someone entered, I looked to see if it was Rick. The staff on the door had been told to let him in, no questions asked. I could only hope they’d do their job properly. I’d had to pull off the usuals, like Matt. They were too important. I needed them for other things tonight.
I still didn’t understand why Rick had chosen Dominion. It seemed almost suicidally reckless, like Daniel walking into the lions’ den. Why the hell hadn’t he chosen neutral turf? The only reason that made any sense was that he still trusted me. He knew I was a man of my word, and he wanted to rub my face in the fact that he’d got one over on me.
It was true. I was a man of my word. Given the chance, I’d make the trade, no questions asked, to protect Felicity…to protect the whole Flint family. In a way, I almost admired Rick. He had balls, that was for sure, coming into the very heart of my empire purely to rip me off. But there was only so far I’d be pushed before my integrity no longer mattered, and I wondered if he realised that. People didn’t usually take liberties – they knew better - so he’d never seen me truly riled, but I wasn’t the old man’s son for nothing.
There was a sudden commotion, over by the entrance. I was at the end of the bar closest, so I could see what was going on. It was Alex, of all people. I’d put him in charge of the club, even though I was in attendance, and he was supposed to be keeping an eye on play, both in the rooms and in the open areas. It was his duty as Dungeon Master to ensure members followed the Code of Safe, Sane and Consensual. It was a role far too important to neglect, and I knew there could only be one reason he was over at the entrance.
I put down my glass and made my way through the various semi-naked bodies to the doors.
‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ Alex was shouting. ‘I trusted you!’
He had Rick pinned against the wall, his face right up against Rick’s. Spit was flying from his mouth, and his knuckles were white, his hands on either side of Rick’s collar. Rick wasn’t struggling, wasn’t retaliating at all. He only stared at Alex, his expression unreadable.
‘Alex,’ I said, with all the calm I could muster. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’
‘I’m sorry, Boss,’ he said. ‘I just…’
‘Let him go,’ I said. ‘Now. I won’t have violence in my club.’
Alex let go of Rick’s collar and walked off, throwing him a look of contempt over his shoulder.
Fifteen
Him
Rick just stared back at him, still with that same inscrutable expression, before turning to me with an ironic grin. ‘No violence?’ he said.
He had that same cocky attitude he’d had back at the Castle, the night he’d made off with the tape. It was all I needed right now. ‘You never did understand,’ I said, gesturing towards the bar. ‘There are rules for everything, even here. Self-control is key….a lesson you’ve apparently never learnt.’
We walked over to the bar, where I beckoned a waiter.
‘Scotch on the rocks,’ I said. ‘Twice.’
‘You’re always so fucking smug.’ Rick took a box of cigarettes from his inside pocket and pulled one out. He lit it, the tip glowing a brilliant orange as he sucked, inhaling deeply on it.
I felt my jaw tense. He knew smoking in the club – dammit, in any club – was an absolute no-no, and he was doing it on purpose to get a reaction out of me. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I merely called over the waiter again.
‘An empty glass, please,’ I said. ‘Or an ashtray, if you have one.’
The waiter passed me a glass, and I pushed it towards Rick.
‘I’m not smug,’ I said. ‘I’m confident. There’s a difference.’
‘Anyone would be confident in your position.’ Rick gestured around the club. ‘Money to burn…any woman you want. You’re so fucking entitled – you have no idea what it’s like for the rest of us.’
I couldn’t argue there. I was rich beyond most people’s wildest dreams or, at least, my father was. I could have any woman I wanted, within reason, but did it make me entitled?
I didn’t think so. I worked damned hard to maintain my lifestyle…to keep my parents and Ronnie in the style to which they were accustomed. Without my eye on it, the whole delicate balance of the infrastructure would go to shit. It was a full-time job and then some.
‘Just because I have money, it doesn’t mean I’m entitled,’ I said, with a shrug. ‘We all have our duties to perform. The difference between us is that I do my duty, without question. Now, you – you truly do think you’re entitled.’
For the first time, Rick looked awkward, as if he didn’t quite know what to say. ‘I’m entitled to something,’ he said, finally. ‘I deserve something for all the service I’ve given you.’
‘I never once said you didn’t.’ I looked away, out across the dance floor. Cho was hanging there again now, in much the same position she’d been in the last time, only this time sans culottes, her splayed legs leaving nothing to the imagination. The mesh of rope played all around her naked arms and torso, encircling her bare tits in a tight rope bra, and rendering her completely immobile – a living decoration for the amusement of club members. ‘I tried to give you something before, but you thought it better to betray my trust, yet again.’
I sighed, waiting for the inevitable response. We’d had this conversation already. It wasn’t going to go anywhere new, I could tell. He was resolute, determined to pursue this mad bid for wealth to the bitter end.
‘Whatever you gave me, it was never going to be enough,’ he said. He followed my gaze to where Cho was hanging, spinning slowly on the rig, a foot or so above the heads of the clubbers. ‘What I wouldn’t give to fuck that pretty little cunt,’ he said.
I could hardly credit it. Despite everything, despite the enormity of what was going on here, he was still thinking with his dick. He had no self-discipline at all.
‘You killed some whore’s cat,’ I said, taking a sip of my drink. ‘I thought that was unnecessary.’
‘It’s hardly the first time I’ve destroyed a tart’s pussy.’ He smirked, raising his glass in toast to his ow
n tasteless joke. ‘It was a fucking cat, for crying out loud. Charlotte was threatening to tell Sandy. I told you.’
I didn’t crack a smile. ‘It wasn’t even her cat.’ I looked at him, sitting there, so sure of himself. He was past his prime now, his blond hair beginning to thin on top. Time was running out for him. No wonder he was getting it wherever he could find it. ‘You know what?’ I slammed my glass down. ‘Maybe Sandy deserves better than you.’
‘My girls don’t deserve to be without their father,’ he said, his voice rising sharply. ‘No kid does.’
‘Which is the only reason I’m still offering to help,’ I said, taking the opportunity while I had it. ‘I can still sort things out. Pay Charlotte off – arrange some sort of stipend for you.’
He looked at me, his eyes narrowed, sizing me up. I could tell he was wavering, and I held my breath, hoping it would be as simple as that. All he had to say was yes, and everything would be sorted.
After what seemed a full minute, he spoke. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I need the money now, up front.’
‘And what do I get if I give you the money?’
He hesitated. ‘The tape, of course,’ he said, finally.
‘And the letters?’
‘I threw the letters,’ he said. ‘They were useless, anyway.’
‘Of course they were.’ I leant back against the bar. ‘You’d already got Charlotte’s address from the papers, hadn’t you?’
He looked at me, an expression of bewilderment on his face. ‘The papers? I haven’t contacted the papers.’
I nodded slowly, letting this new information sink in. I couldn’t be sure, but he seemed to be telling the truth.
He’d obviously decided to press his advantage while he had it. ‘But I will go to the papers, of course,’ he said. ‘If I don’t get the money. Tonight.’
‘The papers won’t touch it,’ I said. ‘Giles Flint’s got them all wrapped up in a gift box. You’re not the first person to try that angle recently, believe me.’
Bad Grace: A Billionaire Romance Romantic Suspense (The Filth Monger Book 2) Page 5