The Pursuit of Passion (Taylor & Adam)

by Liv Bennett

  I don’t reply. I don’t know the answer. Right now, with the rage I’m feeling, I’ll hurt him so badly that he’ll need to be hospitalized. I should breathe deeply, and calm down so I can think with a clear head. “I won’t do anything. It’s just that he might not be alone. He’s probably part of a gang or something. I don’t want you anywhere near danger.”

  She tears her gaze away, probably considering my reasoning. With or without gangsters, her presence won’t be helping me with anything.

  “Stay in the car.” I climb out, without giving her a chance to insist on coming with me. My hands are shaking with anger and fear of what’s waiting for me inside that building. I jump the stairs three at a time and locate the buzzer number. I look back at Taylor before I press the buzzer.

  No one replies or opens the door, so I press again. This repeats five times without any response. He’s either not home or probably expecting my arrival. I wait until an old lady opens the door to leave the building and nod to her and give her a smile, before I enter. I don’t take the elevator; instead I hurry up the stairs while keeping my ears open for the noises from the building. Our guy lives on the second floor, his apartment at the end of a long, dark corridor.

  I take care not to make any noise while walking. When I arrive in front of his door, I stay still to listen to the sounds. If he’s in there and just ignoring the door bells, the crackling of the floor when he walks will give him away. I wait patiently, praying for a tiny crackling for minutes long, but nothing comes.

  Not just my hearing, but all my senses are on high alert. The artificial floral smell combined with the faint moldy odor is drowning me and leaves a metallic taste in my mouth. The hair on my neck and arms is pricked up higher than the hair of a cornered cat.

  After more minutes of pondering and trying to calm my raging heart, I finally decide to knock on the door. Slowly, I lift my hand, bang my knuckles three times on the white wooden structure, and wait with my ears wide open to detect any tiny, insignificant sound.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck! Nothing comes. Neither a sound, nor the boy.

  What am I going to do now? I can’t break into his apartment. Not just because people will hear me, but also I’m sure he’s not in there. He can’t be sitting in there motionless for so many minutes without at least wondering if I was gone. Any person, criminal or not, would come and look out through the peephole, and no amount of careful walking will go unnoticed in this ancient building.

  Defeated, I leave the building and head toward the car. Taylor doesn’t ask me what happened in there. It must be written all over my face.

  “I’ll pay him whatever he wants,” she says.

  I hate losing the fight. If just paying the money would suffice, I’d go for it. But, it has never worked, and it won’t work in our case either. “Let’s go to the police. They’ll know what to do.”

  “I can’t risk it. The video can go viral in a matter of seconds. Your name and the company are on the line.”

  I smirk. “You don’t care about your name?”

  She shrugs and pulls her phone out of her handbag. She types on it as she says aloud the content of her message, “I’ll pay you the money, but this will be the only time I’m paying you, and I want the video deleted. Or I’ll go directly to the police.”

  Not a full minute passes after she sends the message, her phone buzzes with a reply.

  “Ten grand is for my silence. You’ll have to pay me another ten grand for erasing the video completely from my computer. I’ll give you the camera with the video on it as a bonus if you pay me all the money tonight before midnight.”

  Taylor’s hands are shaking; she can barely hold the phone in her hands. I hate seeing her like this, and I can’t even help her ease the pain. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m supposed to protect her, not become the source of her problems.

  I run my fingers through my hair so that I don’t punch anything. That mother fucker has some nerve. “Shit. I knew he’d ask for more. The only difference is that he’s asking for it now.”

  “I’d rather get it over with at once than have the trouble longer. I’ll pay him what he wants.”

  My instincts are telling me he won’t give up so easily on the chicken laying golden eggs and that he will come back demanding more. But, the guilt for causing her the pain is eating away at me so much that I can’t breathe. I don’t feel entitled to even mouth my opinion.

  “Promise me something, then,” I say. “You’ll immediately go to the police if he wants more money later on.”

  “Let’s hope he’ll just do what he’s promising.” She types onto the screen of her phone, asking for the location for the exchange.

  “At least, let me pay the money. All this is happening because of me. I have cash in my safe at home.”

  She nods, her eyes fixed on her phone.

  The message arrives in a matter of seconds after her reply.

  “Be at the Starbucks across LACMA with the money ready. A young, blonde girl with a black jacket and black handbag will be waiting for you. Ask her the time. If she says ‘it’s too late for you to be outside’ she’s the right one. Give her the money; she’ll give you the camera. Only when I get a confirmation from her will I delete the video from the web link.

  Come alone. Don’t play games. Don’t call the police.”

  We drive to Taylor’s apartment first so she can get changed. I wait in the living room, while she locks herself in her bedroom. I hear her calling Valerie to cancel their lunch appointment, then she talks to someone else on the phone, I guess her sister. After that no more sound comes out. Wondering what she’s doing in there, I stand up and tiptoe toward her bedroom only to hear her silent sobs behind the door.

  Fuck! What have I done to her? I’m not able to comfort her. What can I even say? Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make sure that we won’t get caught having sex in public again? I’m a disgusting piece of filth to cause an innocent woman like Taylor this anguish, and even worse for not being able to help her out.

  I’d leave her alone and get the fuck out of her life if I could be sure she’d be fine without me. First the shooting at the parking lot, then the blackmailing. She’s going through a hell of difficulties. With her tender nerves, I’m afraid she might end up hurting herself. Besides, the guy who threatened us might be around. Who knows what he has in mind? After smelling his way to the twenty grand, he might cancel the agreement and set up an attack to lay his hands on more money. From deep down, I wish he’d go for that way, so I can confront him and introduce my firsts to his ghostly yellow face.

  Still waiting in front of Taylor’s bedroom door, I glance at my watch. It’s only one-thirty. How are we supposed to kill time until the midnight? She’ll go crazy with counting the minutes without knowing what will happen with the video. I wish I could at least ease her anxiety.

  I go to kitchen and do the best I can in this situation; prepare her a warm cup of tea. She has two drawers full of various teas, from herbal, fruit, and black to fancy teas like vanilla rooibos chai, and cinnamon spice.

  I put the kettle on and pick a package of chamomile tea for her and a black tea for me. I collapse in one of the chairs around the breakfast island while waiting for the water to boil, and drop my head into my hands. I nearly jump in the chair when I see Taylor’s feet on the floor and jerk to look up.

  Her face and eyes are beet red as expected, creating a deep contrast to the pale skin of her neck. Avoiding my gaze, she settles down on the chair next to mine.

  I stand up to serve us the tea. “Is chamomile okay?” I ask as I place the teacups in front of her.

  She just nods. While pouring the hot water into the cups, it occurs to me that I have yet to apologize to her. I sit back in my chair and cough to clear my throat, working on suppressing the urge to hold her hand.

  “I’m sorry for what happened.” I force myself to pour my heart out, but no more word comes out.

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Her eyes are still intent on l
ooking everywhere but me.

  “It was. I pushed you to—”

  She shoots me an enraged look, cutting me off. “When there is malice in a person’s heart, it doesn’t matter whether you have sex outside or in the privacy of your bedroom; he’ll find a way to invade your privacy to take advantage of you. I bet he’d put cameras in my bedroom if he could.”

  I stare at her, unable to do anything else. She’s going through such a traumatic and humiliating predicament; she’d have every right to blame it on me, kick me out of her apartment, and tell me to get out of her life, forever. Yet, she manages to show me her real strength in spite of the tears she shed just a few hours ago.

  I place my hand on hers and squeeze it tightly “Thank you.” She’s beyond doubt a unique beauty from outside and inside for not loathing my existence when I truly deserve it. Yet, another reason for me to imprison myself in her arms and never let another woman get to me.

  She pulls her teacup to her without moving her other hand from under mine and takes a hesitant sip from the boiling hot beverage. I do as she does and allow the warmth of the tea relax my muscles. It’s actually her hand still wrapped in mine that works like magic to ease my tension, but I’d like to think it’s the tea and not my undeniable weakness for physical intimacy with her.

  CHAPTER 15 - TAYLOR

  I knew I was doing something wrong. I shouldn’t have let Adam into my life in the first place, much less into my heart. Having sex with him, in public or not, was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, and now I’m receiving a grand punishment for acting so foolishly.

  Jack must be disappointed in me. I’m disappointed in myself. And more to the point, Adam is falling for me. I’ve taken it too far; I let him expect more from me than what I’m capable of giving to him. I had no idea that his feelings for me were so deeply rooted.

  I let the day pass without being able to open my mouth to utter a word. He’s not much better than I am and walks around in the living room like a ghost. Deep lines creased on his forehead; perhaps he’s blaming himself or trying to figure out a solution to this perfectly planned threat.

  The threat is too big, considering the consequences for Adam and his family’s name and Jack’s company but, at the same time, I can’t help but feel gratitude for it. The video was a wake-up call. Its timing was perfect. Right when the affair between Adam and I could escalate to a higher level. What would be next if I hadn’t received the threat? Adam and I would probably announce that we were together. He’d want to spend every night with me. In the bed I shared with Jack? Just the thought of another man near that bed is enough to send me running to the bathroom to vomit, let alone having sex on it. I may have had some weird feelings for Adam the first time we met, and for the last few days I spent with him, but they’re nothing comparable to my love for Jack.

  I’ll let Adam pay the money and then pay it fully back to him as the first thing tomorrow. Although he might think it was his idea to have sex in the movie theater, I was the one who pulled a stunt as a cheap prostitute. It was me who messed with his heart. He doesn’t need to suffer along with me.

  When the sun goes down and the night settles in, I change into black slacks and a black turtleneck sweater and pick up my purse to head to the door. Adam follows me out without a word, like my shadow.

  His home is dark and smells of sex, as if shouting my sins at me. I stay in the living room, while he disappears into his bedroom. I promise to myself that I’ll never again set foot in those four walls of indulgence, called his bedroom.

  He comes out wearing blue jeans with a navy raincoat, holding a duffel bag, which, I assume, has the twenty grand in it. “I called a friend of mine who is a martial arts instructor at the gym I go to regularly. She knows Taekwondo and Krav Maga. She’ll be there at the Starbucks, in case the guy tries to kidnap you or harm you any other way.”

  “I don’t think involving someone else is a good idea.” I gaze down at the bag, unable to look into his eyes and see the self-blame in them. His voice is already laced with pain and fear. If I see all that turmoil directly in his eyes, I’m afraid I’ll just throw myself into his arms and embrace him tightly in order to ease his fears. From the corner of my eye, I barely notice he’s shaking his head.

  “I’ve got the feeling that you’re treating this matter too lightly. You don’t know the real motive behind the guy’s action. He’s asking a very little amount compared to the harm he can do by making the video go viral. He may have a secret agenda which may or may not involve kidnapping you. Have you heard nothing about human trafficking? They prey on innocent women like you and sell them as slaves, and nobody can do anything about it. Not even the police.”

  “Okay. Whatever you say. Your friend can come if she wants.”

  “Take this with you.” He puts his hand into the pocket of his jacket and draws out a handgun.

  The sight of the cold killing machine nearly makes me scream. Suddenly, everything becomes too grave to bear, as if my brain has just registered the severity of the deep shit I find myself in. Why me? Why did the guy pick me to blackmail, while Adam was the only one he interacted with?

  When Adam told the guy to find us a room in the movie theater, I made it a point to fix my eyes on the floor to hide my face from him, in case he might have been an acquaintance. And, not to forget the wig with bangs I was wearing. How could he figure out my identity, much less my cellular number? The guy can really be a member of a large, organized-crime group as Adam is suspecting.

  Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I tear my eyes from the gun and look up Adam’s face. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “Again, just in case. Nothing wrong with being prepared for the worst.” Fear is eating at him; it’s clear in every inch of his face. His mind must be bursting with similar questions. Questions he’s too afraid to share with me.

  “Is it even registered?” I work on my voice to hide my fear.

  He nods. “I bought it right after the shooting. I wanted to be equipped, in case they decided to attack again.”

  “But… I don’t even know how to shoot.”

  He gives me a brief introduction about the features of the gun and trigger control. Which I know I should pay attention to, but my mind is too numb with panic and tunes out everything. Because I’m not capable of touching it, Adam slips the gun into my purse. Just the fact that it’s in my bag scares the hell out of me. Can it explode on its own? What if I shoot an innocent person while trying to aim at the blackmailer? I’m afraid I won’t be able to survive until the transaction is over, without going crazy.

  We leave half an hour before midnight and pull up and park on the street across from the Starbucks where I’m supposed to hand over the money. Adam’s phone rings, startling me. He glances at me before looking at the screen. It’s a text message from his instructor friend from the gym. He reads it aloud for me, “I’m sitting at the table across from the cash register. There are only two guys in their forties besides me and the employees.”

  I find my hands shaking and feel the blood drain out of me. I look out of the window and stare at the line of restaurants, although it’s too dark and we’re too far away to make out anything inside the Starbucks. What if they carry out a raid in there to kidnap me? That’d explain why the guy only demanded twenty thousand dollars. A very small amount before they get to the millions I inherited from Jack. Maybe I should have listened to Adam and called the police.

  As if reading my mind, Adam grabs my hand and whispers, “I won’t let anything happen to you.” I really hope he means what he says. I keep staring at the empty tables in front of the Starbucks until my eyes hurt. Adam squeezes my hand, pulling me back from my troubling thoughts. “It’s time.”

  I inhale deeply, as if it’s my last one. And, maybe it is. I bite my lips to keep from crying and stare at him with a straight face to convince him that I can do this. If I show him my fear, he’ll interfere. Which will automatically put him in danger, too.

  A
dam types a brief text to his friend before we step outside. “I’ll be waiting for you on the sidewalk.” He pulls me to him and plasters his lips onto mine, catching me by surprise. His kiss, no less feverish than the ones he showered me with last night, helps relax my tensed muscles. I wrap my arms around his neck and let the illusion of protection his body radiates sink into me.

  Slowly, he pulls away, his hand brushing away a strand of hair from my face. “Ten minutes from now, you’ll be back in my arms.”

  We pace across the street, hand in hand, mine squeezing a bit harder than his. He hugs me one last time before he lets me go and hands me the duffel bag. I look around and see no one. Unhurriedly, I wave at him and take a step toward the Starbucks. I count until three before opening the door. I barely register the two men sitting at a table at the back of the room and a girl in an armchair by the window. She must be Adam’s friend. Yet, the girl who’s supposed to pick up the money is nowhere to be seen.

  I fist my hands and walk to the cash register to order tea, hoping the girl will arrive before my tea is ready.

  Luck is failing me, because the boy at the cash register hands me my tea and the change, leaving me standing without a purpose. I nervously take the paper cup filled with my beverage and sit at the nearest table. I should have ordered a bottle of water or juice, because the tea is too hot to drink. But, maybe I can use it as a defense if the guy decides to attack me with his gang friends.

  Five minutes later, the door opens and a blonde girl with a black coat and a black bag enters. Does that mean there is no raid? The girl waves at me and smiles as if we’re best friends.

  “Hey, you?” She sits at the chair across me. I’m surprised by the pretty face staring at me with warmth.

  I straighten up, though, startled, and squeeze the handle of the duffle bag. “Hello.” My eyes dart behind her, looking for a movement, a shadow.

  “Is it in there?” Without waiting for me to say my line, she motions down with her chin toward the duffle bag and lowers her voice. “All twenty grand?”