Something About Eve (An Eve Sumptor Book 1)

by Jourdyn Kelly

  Madame Bussiere’s eyes widened in recognition. “Eve? Mon dieu! Is it really you?”

  Eve read the greed in the older woman’s eyes as she took note of Eve’s Versace suit, her Jimmy Chu pumps and the gray Louis Vuitton pocketbook. “Shall we go somewhere a little more...private?” Eve suggested.

  “You have money now, no?” the older woman said, her eyes narrow, covetous. “You want something from me, petite fille, you’ll have to make it worth my while.”

  The woman’s accent grated on Eve’s nerves as much as the request, but she smiled coldly at her. “I’ll make it worth your while, Madame, by not telling the authorities what you’re doing in this dump, what you’ve been doing for years. Don’t fuck with me. I will destroy you and everything you think you have here.” Eve’s icy whisper, and the fire in her eyes, had the woman taking a step back. “Now, let’s go somewhere where we can talk.”

  “Oui, bien sûr,” Madame Bussiere agreed. She gave the bartender a look, then turned and marched off towards her office.

  Eve leaned onto the bar and crooked her finger at the bartender. When he was close, Eve wrapped a hand around his tie and pulled. “You’re being watched,” she told him in perfect French. “My men are all over this place.” She watched, satisfied as the bartender’s nervous eyes darted around the bar and dining area. “You won’t know who they are, or where they’re coming from, but if you go for that phone, they’ll come after you. You don’t want that, now do you? Of course not. And, you’ll keep anyone from disturbing Madame and myself, right?”

  The man nodded his head and Eve smiled. “Very good,” she said. “Au revoir pour le moment.”

  Patting him on the cheek, she walked off to join Madame Bussiere, leaving the man staring after her. He didn’t know who the American was, but she had a dangerous look about her. He wasn’t about to find out just how dangerous.

  Eve walked into Madame Bussiere’s small, dingy, paper strewn office and closed the door behind her. She knew what people saw when they looked at her. The tailored slacks, the fitted button shirt, the designer heels, down to the manicured fingernails. All of it said money and prestige. Even her carefully applied, yet minimal make-up, gave on-lookers the impression that this was a woman born into privilege. No one would have guessed that she once had to do despicable things just to stay alive. And, that was how Eve was determined to keep it.

  Taking the seat in front of Bussiere’s desk Eve crossed her legs. “It seems like someone has been talking about things that happened here years ago, Bussiere,” she said scornfully. “You wouldn’t have any idea who that is, now would you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have talked to no one.”

  “You’re lying. I hate liars.” Eve sat back and threaded her fingers together as she watched the older woman fidgeting. Her thick hands clasped together tightly with anxiety. “You have a couple of choices here. You can tell me what you know. Or, you can keep telling me you don’t know anything and see what the consequences are.”

  “There’s nothing you can do to me. I know nothing.” The woman shrugged. “Now you must leave.”

  “Sit down.” The words carried with them such an underlying violence, that Madame dropped heavily back into her chair. “I don’t like you, Bussiere,” Eve continued. “I hate what you did to me, the things you made me do. I could take care of you right now, like that,” she said snapping her fingers, “and feel no remorse for it at all. However, maybe I’ll spare you if you tell me what I want to know. Maybe,” Eve repeated with a vicious smile.

  She saw the doubt in Madame’s eyes, but it didn’t hide the uneasiness that was there as well.

  “Don’t underestimate me, old woman,” she hissed. “I’m not the same little girl you smacked around back then. This time, I get to do the smacking.”

  “I haven’t been talking. I swear,” Madame told Eve, her dark eyes shifting nervously.

  “You’re lying again,” Eve told her. “If you haven’t been talking, then one of the men you sold me to have. So, if you want to help yourself, give me names and addresses, whatever information you have that I can use. If you can’t be of use to me…”

  “He made me do it,” Madame Bussiere spat out. It was clear to Eve that the woman realized that she had no way out. She had no choice, really, but to make a deal with Eve, to give her information in exchange for protection. Whatever else Madame Bussiere was, she was no fool, not the sort to take the fall for having obeyed Tony’s orders.

  “Who made you do what?” Eve asked carefully.

  “Your father. Tony made me do what - what I did to you back then. Je jure! I didn’t want to, but he threatened me. He told me that if I didn’t make you do those things, the authorities would be after me, and I could very well end up dead.”

  Eve couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her own father? It shouldn’t have surprised her. After all, he had been using her, abusing her for most of her life. But, the news stunned her nonetheless. “How did he know I was here?” Eve hadn’t realized she asked the question aloud, until Madame answered.

  “I told him,” she said nervously. A trickle of sweat dripped down her temple.

  “You swore to me that you wouldn’t tell him. I should have known. You bitch!” Eve started to rise.

  “Wait! Écoutez moi.” Madame Bussiere raised her hands as though to protect herself. “I was greedy. Word was out that you had run away and there was a reward for any information on you. It was a lot of money, Eve...”

  “Don’t you dare speak my name,” Eve said scathingly. “I gave you everything I had, made you money, worked my fingers to the bone for you – goddamnit, I gave my body to strangers for you. All because I thought I was safe from my father. Now you tell me he knew all along. You conspired with him with selling my body as well?” She was so furious, she could imagine her hands wrapped around the other woman’s neck, squeezing the life out of her, the same way the life was squeezed out of Eve all those years ago.

  “That was his idea,” Madame Bussiere said quickly. “Not mine. Your father had debts he couldn’t pay. When he found out you were here, he used you as payment. I never saw any money from...those times.”

  “You lying bitch. Some of those men weren’t the type to have loaned my father money. How many did you sell me to?”

  “Je suis désolé, I had to make a living.” She shrank back in her chair as Eve’s look turned venomous. “You were already doing it for you father. I never thought a couple more here and there would matter. After all, I made sure they didn’t hurt you.”

  “You watched?” Eve grabbed on to the arms of the chair, digging her nails into the fabric to keep herself from killing the woman in front of her. “I will destroy you for what you did to me. For watching and doing nothing when those men brutalized me.”

  “That last night wasn’t my fault.” Madame’s face was as white as a sheet with fear. “I was told to disappear, and that if I didn’t you and I would be killed.”

  “Perfect. So you left me alone to be raped and beaten - for my sake,” Eve said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “I didn’t know they were going to do that. I swear. S’il vous plait! You must understand...”

  “Understand?” Eve repeated with exasperation. “Fuck you! Don’t say another word.” Eve held up a hand, cutting the other woman off. “All you’re doing is pissing me off even more. What you are going to do now, is get up and walk over to your safe. I want every document, every name, every piece of information you have on those men my father ‘paid off’. And that list had better include the men you sold me to as well.” Eve leaned forward and gave Madame Bussiere a piercing stare. “If anything is missing, I’m coming after you. After what I’ve learned today, your death will be excruciatingly painful for you, and extremely pleasurable for me.”

  Obviously the older woman was terrified. There was on old fashioned iron safe in the corner. Eve watched as she turned the combination and opened it. Bringing a pile of envelopes
and files back to the desk, Madame Bussiere dumped them in front of her.

  “This is everything. All I have. Je vous promets.”

  “Your promises mean nothing to me.” Eve picked up a stack of papers. They included names and addresses of the patrons that frequented Bussiere’s bar, some with notes underneath them.

  Evening with Eve. Paid. Disgusted, Eve picked up the black leather Tavecchi briefcase that she had brought with her. She put the papers into the case and looked through more of the papers from the safe, until she came to a brown envelope. “What is this?”

  Madame said nothing, but her eyes widened with fear.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Ph-photos,” Madame Bussiere stammered.

  “Photos of what?” Eve looked on as the older woman lowered her eyes. “Oh my God. You took photos of...” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. The thought alone was nauseating. “Why?”

  “For no reason,” Madame Bussiere muttered. But Eve saw the narrow look in her eyes and suddenly she understood.

  “You’re a cruel and repulsive woman,” Eve said with loathing. “Did it turn you on to watch men abuse me? Tell me, Bussiere, did it arouse you to watch a child being raped? No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know what your vile obsessions are. Who else has these photos?”

  “No one,” she said and Eve saw her as she was, not the demon from her past but a frightened old woman.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

  “Je ne me trouve pas. It’s all there. The film, the prints, everything. They were for me. I gave them to no one, showed them to no one.”

  “You better hope I don’t find out if you’re lying to me.” Eve took the rest of the papers and contents that came from the safe and threw them into the briefcase, slamming it shut. She needed to get out of there. Her head was pounding. “If you pick up that phone to call Tony after I walk out that door, it will be the last thing you do,” she told the old woman who was cowering in her chair, her face sunk in deep lines. “Do you understand me?”

  There was no need for Eve to wait for an answer.

  “Go in and clean up the mess,” Eve told the man in dark sunglasses as she walked outside. Her mood was foul, and all she wanted to do was go home. No, she thought, that wasn’t the only thing. She wanted to hear Lainey’s voice telling her everything would be okay.

  “Do you want her dead?” he asked.

  Eve hesitated as her driver held the door open for her. “No,” she answered, finally. “But I want to make sure she suffers for what she did to me. Destroy everything in sight. Scare her – a lot – but keep her alive.” As the limo drove off, she saw him slip discreetly into the café and knew that within the hour her order would be carried out to her complete satisfaction.

  Eve sat in the dimly lit living room of her home in Paris. The heavy, velvet drapes were drawn over the long windows facing the Avenue Foch, and there was a silence that surrounded her as she sat in the middle of the room with papers all around her. She had spent her evening reliving the horrors of her past, and her head was throbbing. What she needed was something familiar, someone to reassure her of who she was now. But Eve was confused about whom exactly that was for her. When she closed her eyes, she could feel Adam’s arms around her, holding her and keeping her safe. Then her mind would change gears, and Lainey would be there telling her everything would be all right, that she would always be there when Eve needed her. Who was it that she needed? It was a question that plagued her as she sat there alone in the city that had stolen her innocence, and her ability to give herself fully to either of the people who loved her.

  The names of each of the men who used her body however they pleased stared back at her. She had all of the information she needed to devastate their lives. Everything she needed to exact her revenge was right here at her fingertips. Everything, except the desire to do just that.

  Suddenly Eve realized that she was tired of fighting, tired of living her life with the shadow of Tony and her past following her every move, hiding in every corner. She wanted the burden she has lived with her entire life to be lifted at last. It was time to live a happy and normal life, whatever that may be. But before that could happen, she had to finish this game with her father once and for all.

  Picking up the envelope she had been avoiding, she took a deep breath and opened it. Much as she hated to, she must be sure that Madame Bussiere had told her the truth about the film being in there with the photos. She took a hold of one of the glossy photos. Before she could stop herself, she slipped one of the pages out. Her breathing turned rapid and bile rose up into her throat when she saw the image. Quickly, she replaced the photo and closed her eyes, but the vision was still there. “Stupid,” she whispered. Without thinking, she picked up the phone next to her and dialed.

  Jack moved in a steady rhythm on top of Lainey as she wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. Sounds of their lovemaking filled the room. It felt good, Lainey realized as Jack buried his face in her hair. He had surprised her with flowers and candlelight, even sending the boys to their grandparents so they could be alone. He had seduced her with kisses and loving words, and she had fallen willingly into his arms. Their minds and hearts were so entirely interwoven that, when the phone rang next to them, it startled them both.

  “Who the hell is calling at this time of night?” Jack muttered. “Let the machine get it, Lainey.”

  Lainey thought of Eve. “I have to get it,” she told him. “Something might have happened to one of the boys.”

  “Lainey?” The moment she heard Eve’s voice, Lainey knew that something was terribly wrong. She sounded so scared and alone.

  “Eve?” she said, pulling the sheet around her. “Is everything okay?”

  “Ask her why she’s calling at this time of night,” Jack demanded. “Don’t shush me! Why should I be quiet? She’s the one calling in the middle of the night. She’s the one interrupting us while we’re making love.”

  Eve’s heart shattered. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, hanging up the phone quickly before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

  “Goddamnit, Jack!” Lainey exclaimed, pushing him away as he tried to put his arms around her. “Why did you do that? You have no idea what’s going on, what she’s going through.”

  Hurriedly she dialed Eve’s number, praying she would pick up.

  “What she’s going through? What about us, Lainey? Does she think she’s the only one in your life?”

  Lainey held up a hand, shaking her head. She heard Eve’s voice mail come on, and almost screamed in frustration. “Eve? Please call back. Please.” Jack rolled away from her and got out of bed. Lainey said nothing to stop him when he put on his robe. She was worried about Eve. What if something had happened?

  “Perhaps the truth is that she’s the only important person in your life,” he muttered as he slammed out of the room.

  Lainey considered going after him and apologizing. She had believed they were on the right track, that they were getting back to the way they were before the kids were born. But she couldn’t ignore the reality that Eve needed her right now even more than Jack. Maybe she was taking for granted the fact that Jack would always be there, but she had to believe he would be. All she could think about now was that she had made a promise to be there for Eve who had been alone almost all of her life. Jack would understand that, she reassured herself as she picked up the phone and dialed again. Again Eve didn’t answer. Glancing at the door to make sure it was closed.

  “Eve? Honey,” Lainey said. “Please call me. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” A tear rolled down Lainey’s cheek. “Please, baby, call me back.” She hung up the phone, staring at it, willing it to ring.

  “Please, baby, call me back.” It was the third time Eve had listened to the message this morning, and each time she had wanted to call just as she had the night before, but found she couldn’t. She was too hurt, and too ashamed. She didn’t want to hear Lainey apologizing fo
r doing something that should be natural and guilt free for her. But she had made Lainey feel that way, and the reality of that mortified her. How could she ruin Lainey’s life, her marriage, by being so selfish? She knew what it was like to have nothing, to lose everything. How could she put Lainey through that?

  But, the thought of a life without Lainey hurt like hell. When she was gone, Eve knew she would have lost the only true friend she ever had, the one person who knew everything about her, and yet still loved her.

  If you really cared for her, Eve, you’d let her go, she told herself. You’re only hurting her. Eve sighed and put her cell phone away as the limo pulled up to the curb in front of an apartment building in the exclusive Trocadero district. Time to put your game face on, Eve. She took a deep breath, and pushed everything else to the back of her mind. This was her last stop before returning back home and it was the going to be the most difficult.

  After a quick stop at the concierge desk, Eve knocked solidly on the door of the apartment. She was shown to the parlor by the uniformed maid, who then went to get the man who had used her body as his personal punching bag. She didn’t sit. She wasn’t going to give him any kind of advantage. Instead, she took in her surroundings. Wealthy, important man, bad taste in decorating, she thought. The room was dark and cold. Antiques decorated the room in a cluttered manner. There was no order, no sense of style, just chaos. It didn’t surprise her one bit, knowing what he was inside. Studying the painting on the wall, she could see clearly that it was not an original. “Cheap bastard,” she said quietly with disgust, though she knew of a few treasures the bastard kept hidden.

  “Can I help you?”

  His voice was like nails on a blackboard to her. Slowly, she turned to him and silently watched as recognition hit him. Alarm and confusion crossed his face in rapid succession and he was immediately defensive.

  “What’s the matter, Laurence?” Eve said. “You don’t look happy to see me. Or, maybe you are. Isn’t it amazing what ten years can do to a child’s body? Because that’s what you remember, isn’t it?” She had dressed deliberately in a short Gucci skirt and tight fitting shirt that dipped low to show off her cleavage.