by Tia Siren
My God I don't' know any of that information she thought. ''I really don't know any of that, but if you let me go, I will see what I can do.''
Again he laughed. ''Good try, but pathetic. I suggest you think about it a bit more because if you really don't know anything, the best you can hope for is a painless end.''
Again she was cast into darkness when he switched off the light. She tried to think what she knew about security.The problems was, it wasn't something they did at the store, it was outsourced to a specialist company, and she really did know nothing about it.
Think, darn well think girl, she told herself. What have you noticed down here? What is there that can help you? Blank walls, a chair, a light and nothing else. Nothing else at all.
*****
Radley and Leon stood in front of Tyra's front door and knocked loudly. There was no reply. ''I don't know what to do now Leon. We've rung her and knocked on her door. If she's inside surely, she would have answered.''
''She went to work at the usual time.'' Behind them, a door had opened. It was Mrs. Smith; she was the eyes and ears of the building. When she'd heard two male voices echoing on the staircase, she was curious and decided to see what all the fuss was about. ''She took some flowers that a foreign looking guy left on her doorstep last night and went to work at the usual time.''
''What did the foreign guy look like?'' Leon asked.
''Blonde, tall, well built and wearing an expensive suit. He parked up down the road in a red Ferrari.''
''Sounds like the same man that was at the store this morning,'' Leon told Radley. ''He was blond, and there was a red Ferrari in the street.''
''Alright, let’s go back to the store. This man was client wasn't he?'' Radley asked.
Leon nodded. ''Yes, Tyra sold him some jewelry. In fact a few hundred thousand dollars worth.''
''Well, in that case, we'll have his details at the store. Anyone spending that kind of money has to fill out a form stating that the funds used were legal funds and declared to the IRS.''
Back at the store, Radley went through the paperwork until he found the name Dima Asarov.
*****
When Sergey pressed the light switch, nothing happened. No light. It must be the bulb he thought; she's tied up. He went outside and rummaged around in the garage. He found a bulb and grabbed a torch.
''What the hell.....'' he shouted when he reached the bottom of the stairs. He dropped the torch and bulb and put his hands to his neck.
Tyra spun the piece of wood in her hand as fast as she could, and the cable on the end of it did what she wanted. It tightened beautifully around his neck. She gritted her teeth and wound as hard as she could until there was no more play in the cable. Standing behind him, all she had to do now was hold on until he dropped to the floor, but he wasn't so willing. He bucked and tried to throw her over his shoulder, and when that didn't work, he tried to stamp on her feet. Her strength was running out fast, and he was still struggling. He battered against her, but she held on. In desperation, she gave the wood a third of a turn more. Come on girl, she muttered, hold on. She let out a cry of effort as she pulled the wood to breaking point. Suddenly he stopped struggling and began to make a hideous noise. When he slumped to the floor, she told herself to keep the wire tight. He may be playing dead. But he wasn't.
When she finally let go, she dropped to her knees and picked up the torch. She shone it on Sergey and noted that his face was purple. As she was about to stand up, she heard someone on the stairs. She picked the piece of wood up from the floor and stood against the wall. When the man came into the room, he saw Sergey on the floor and a torch shining into the far corner of the room. Tyra lunged forward and hit him as hard as she could with the piece of wood. There was a sickening crack and a cry.
''Dima?'' she asked.
''Yes, shit that hurts.'' Good, she, thought. ''And this is for being an ass,'' she said as she hit him again on the upper arm.
''Stop, stop, for heaven’s sake, stop.'' He grabbed the wood and pulled her to him. She tried to break free, but he held her against him.
''I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't plan any of this. This was all Sergey's doing.''
''Then how did you know I was here? It's a bit of a coincidence isn't it, you turning up like this so suddenly?'' She landed a blow to his shin with her shoe, but he still held onto her.
''Stop struggling. Mr. Samuels called me and told me you hadn't showed up for work. He was worried about you. Somehow he knew we were friendly, and he wondered if I knew where you were.'' She tried to break free again. He put his head to her neck and inhaled her scent. ''I have missed you so much. I'm sorry, I know I can't ever make up for it, but please believe me when I say I have fallen in love with you.''
At his words, he felt her relax. When she felt liquid dropping onto her face, she put her hand to his head. He was bleeding badly. ''Come on, let’s get out of here, she said. ''You need help.''
He bent down and picked up the torch. He shone it around trying to get an idea of what had taken place. He saw a wooden chair with just three legs, and when he shone the torch at the ceiling, he noticed the cable from the light had been ripped out. There was a groove of broken plaster in the ceiling where someone had yanked the cable from the light fitting all the way to the wall. On further inspection, he saw someone had made a noose out of it with a winding mechanism. Gruesome, he thought.
*****
The doctor told Dima that a blow to the head of that intensity warranted a night of observation in hospital. Dima reluctantly agreed. When they wheeled him out of the treatment room towards a free bed, Tyra stood up walked with them. Once he was in bed, she looked at him. He had a deep gash in his head and a terrifying bruise on his arm.
''Jesus, I'm so sorry for that,'' she said. ''That looks really painful.''
''Don't worry, I deserved it, after what I wanted to do. I was being foolish, it was the most stupid plans I've ever thought of.''
''Yes it was, and it will take a long time before I can trust you again.'' She scowled.
''Are you willing to try? If you want me to beg, I will. Tyra, when you were mad at me, and you left me and wouldn't answer my calls, I realized I can't live without you.''
''I'm carrying your child.''
He looked at her stunned.
''Here is what we'll do.'' She decided to say something, realizing he was temporarily speechless. ''I love you as well. When I was in that cellar, I too realized I didn't want to be without you. But I am as mad as hell with you. Madder than I have ever been with anyone.'' She reached out and took his hand, minding not to dislodge the drip. ''However, I don't want to miss the chance of a happy life with you. I will have our baby, and you and I will be together. But if I hear anymore BS about stealing things, I'll kick you out, forever. Agreed?''
He nodded, still speechless. He gestured to her to come closer. When she did, he whispered. ''Thank you.''
*****
Bradley was in the middle of breakfast when the phone rang. ''Thank God, Tyra. I was so worried about you. How are you? What happened to you? Are you joking?''
When he closed his cell phone, he was fully aware of what had taken place. He knew that someone had wanted to steal the Hope Diamond and that Tyra had been kidnapped. He also knew that she'd said nothing and been very brave. He didn't know that the father of her baby had in fact intended to steal the diamond. Tyra was willing to keep that from him. All Radley had to know was that a very savage man had intended to steal it, and he was now no longer able.
''Eliana, get in here,'' he shouted at the top of his voice.
''Radley, how dare you shout at me like that,'' she exclaimed as she appeared from the kitchen.
'I'll shout at you how I like. I've had a belly full of you. It's my business. My family founded it and I run it. My name is above the door, and the tax man calls me when he wants something, not you.'' Eliana stood open mouthed and wide eyed as his verbal attack continued. ''We both decided to give it to Tyra. She's a g
ood girl, but you pompously decided to take it all way from her, just because she made a mistake. You're a prude, and you always have been..''
''But.....but,'' Eliana floundered.
''No buts, I'm leaving the store to her, and you will have to get used to the idea.
*****
Five years later Radley and Eliana went on a world cruise, and Tyra took her position as manager. She felt comfortable in her role. Radley checked in with her every day from wherever he was in the world. Before he'd gone, he had asked a computer geek how he could connect to the stores accounting system from afar. That's my girl he would say every time he logged in and looked at the profits.
Tyra only had one problem. The glass cabinets in the store. They were awfully susceptible to sticky, little fingers. Jimmy was still a baby, but Dima Junior and Alicia weren't, and when their father took them to see mummy at work, he loved showing them all the priceless things money could buy.
Dima got the Hope Diamond for his thirty-second birthday. The woman in the picture framing store wondered why Tyra wanted such a beautiful frame for a simple photocopy of a downloaded internet picture.
****
THE END
The Russian’s Secret Love Child – Nicki’s Story
A BWWM Russian Pregnancy Romance
The plane from Moscow to JFK was three hours late due to heavy snow in Russia. Nicki had tried to call Nathan from Moscow but hadn't managed to get hold of him. She just hoped he'd waited for her. If not, she'd have to get a taxi, and she only had a purse full of worthless rubels.
When she'd cleared US customs and reclaimed her bag, she walked out into the arrivals lounge. There were a lot of people waiting to pick up family and friends. She couldn't see Nathan. Whenever he'd picked her up at the airport before, he'd stood where he could see her. Today he wasn't in the usual place. She walked to the left, put her heavy bag on the floor and reached inside her jacket for her cellphone. She let it ring a few times. No reply. Darn it, not only would she have to get a taxi but she also would miss the opportunity to talk to him.
''Nicki over here,'' Nathan shouted. ''I tracked the flight on the net and saw the delay so only set off when they gave a landing time. I didn't realize the traffic would be so bad. Sorry.''
That was Nathan she thought. Always apologizing for something that wasn't his fault. ''Hello,'' she said as he hugged her. Don't let him hold you for too long, it would be unfair.
''Let me have a look at you,'' he said, holding her at arm’s length. ''Still the same beautiful Nicki. Perfectly dressed and not a hair out of place even after such a long flight.''
“And you've lost weight. Have you been eating properly?''
''How can a man eat properly when he is love sick,'' he said as he picked up her bag. ''Jesus what have you got in here, a real elephant?''
''Just a few small one's to add to my collection.''
'I've never understood why you collect elephants,'' he admitted as they walked toward the parking area.
Correct all along, he never listens to me. ''I've told you a few times. Because my South African dad always told me the tale about how the little elephant got a long trunk. I have been fascinated by them ever since.'' She could see he wasn't listening again. He was looking for the parking ticket. He tutted and put her bag down as he searched though every pocket.
''You haven't bothered to clean out the car then?'' she said as she squeezed her long legs between empty coke cans and pizza boxes. Surely if you were going to collect the woman you love from the airport, after she'd been away for a year, you would make a bit of an effort.
The Fiat screeched into life, and Nathan reversed out of the parking lot, almost hitting the car next to them. ''So how was it really? I mean you told me you enjoyed it, but can someone really enjoy a year in Moscow? It's full of commies for a start.''
Nicki looked at all the dead flies on the windshield and considered her answer. ''I did enjoy it. And it's not full of commies. It was the chance of a lifetime. A lot of people applied for that exchange place to Moscow State University. I was the lucky one who got it, so I decided to make the best of it.''
She pulled down the sun visor and looked at herself in the vanity mirror. Nathan was right. Her makeup had withstood the grueling flight, her lips were still bright red, and her eyes bore no smudges. She'd gotten a new hairdo in Moscow; she was sure Nathan hadn't noticed. She liked it. Natasha the lovely girl who'd cut it was fascinated by black people's hair. She'd never had a black woman in her chair before. It looks wiry, she'd remarked, but quickly changed her mind when she touched it. Now Nicki wore it long and thrown to one side in sweeping curls.
''Jesus, asshole,'' Nathan shouted as he almost ran into a taxi that had stopped to turn left.
''Nathe,'' Nicki murmured. I'm going to hate myself, she thought. ''I want to talk to you.'' She looked across at him. He was tall and dark and had a strong looking face, the kind that women trusted. He would soon find some else. Someone more suitable. Someone who didn't mind dirty cars, and a boyfriend who doesn't listen. ''Nathe, thanks for giving me a lift home. It's really nice of you.''
''Nice? Did you think after a year that I wouldn't come and collect my girlfriend from the airport?''
They'd been together for four years, ever since Nicki had started her course in journalism at NYU. It was the first time she'd been away from her parents, and she'd been nervous. She was brought up in a small town in Alabama, and at the time; New York had seemed so intimidating. Now she had to admit that when she'd met Nathan, she had clung onto him for her own sake. Not because she loved him, but because he was a New Yorker and made her feel at ease with the Big Apple. Now she was going to have to pay for stringing him along all this time. Why had she just let it drift?
''Well, it is nice of you.'' Come on girl, out with it, she told herself trying to find the right words. ''Nathe I don't want to be with you any more. I want to be your friend, but I don't want a sexual relationship with you anymore.''
''What?'' he said as he swerved round another taxi.
''You never listen to a word I say,'' she shouted in frustration.
''Sorry, what were you saying?''
She took a deep breath and began again. ''Nathe you're sweet, but I want to finish our relationship.''
''What?'' She was fearful he hadn't heard her again, but he had. ''What the hell are you talking about, finish?''
''I want to be friendly with you, but not your girlfriend anymore. I've thought a lot about it while I was in Moscow, and we're not compatible. You could find someone much better suited to you. You're only twenty-four, and you've got a great job at the Times. You're bound to find Mrs. Right.''
''Nicki,'' he exclaimed. She closed her eyes; sure he was going to run into the car in front. ''No Nicki, you've got it wrong. I don't want anybody else. I want you. Jesus, I love you.''
It was the first time he'd said that, and it made it all the more difficult. ''You think you love me, Nathe. But really you only have time for one person. Yourself.''
''Will you stop talking BS. You're my girl, and that's it.'' He looked at her. She looked hotter than ever with her new hair. She had also lost weight, not that she needed to. Now she was slender, and it made her look taller than the five eight she always claimed she was. All he wanted to do was get her back to her apartment and go to bed with her. He longed to feel her long legs around him and her soft lips on his. He'd often masturbated to a picture of her when she was away. Not a blunt picture of her in some pornographic pose, but a simple picture of her face, smiling into the camera he'd taken with them on a trip to the beach.
''No Nathe. I've made up my mind. Please respect that.''
''So what's happened, Nicki? Have you fallen in love with some heartless communist? They're all communists you know. Spineless alcoholics all of them.''
What he was saying wasn't true. She'd met a lot of very nice people in Russia during her exchange year. None of them were communists, and apart from the odd drunken birthday celebrati
on, she'd never seen any of them drinking alcohol. She'd gone there with an open mind. Sure it was a totally different culture, and it had taken a lot of getting used to, but she'd really enjoyed the experience. ''No I haven't fallen in love with anyone. I just don't think you and I are compatible enough to take it any further than we already have.''
''Well thanks a lot. Thanks for ruining my day and my life. What a bitch. You know you've always thought you were better than anybody else.'' He glanced across at her with hurt engraved all over his face.
Surely he'd suspected something, though. She hadn't exactly been nice to him when they'd talked on Skype. And she'd never called him. He'd even complained that he always had to call her. ''I'm sorry Nathe, but that's it. I can't be with you anymore.'' Her words sounded so final, she thought. If only, there was a better way, a less cruel way. She'd agonized over it for days but every time she'd come to the same conclusion. There was no kind way to dump someone.
''And what the hell are you going to do with you life, Nicki? Yours graduating in four weeks and you still haven't applied for any jobs. It's not easy finding work so you'd better get on with it.'' There was a cold father like sound to his voice.
''I've told you a few times. I'm going to be a freelance journalist.''
''Yeah right. As if an editor would buy a story from a rookie journalist. You've been told so many times by me, by your professor and by all your peers, you need to get a job on a newspaper. Learn your craft and then, only then, might you have a chance at being a freelancer.''
He was right, but only to a certain extent, she told herself. She was graduating from a great school of journalism. Then she had to write some great stories. As a young rookie, she knew it would be difficult, but she was daring, and she intended to get exciting, even dangerous stories that would sell themselves. Stories of hardship, crime, war and death were all on her list, and she knew exactly where she was going to start. ''But that's what I want to do. It's my life and my business, and nobody else can tell me what to do.''