by Rea Winters
“Hanson! I need your help.”
16.
Xara had gone to Rosie’s house that night under the guise of a friend returning her phone. The servants informed her that the lady of the house and Ms. Pryce had already left for the hotel where they would be having the rehearsal dinner for their wedding the day after next. They told her Rosie hadn't appeared sick at all, only rattled from a dispute with Ms. Pryce. It meant without a doubt that she hadn't eaten the poisoned fruit. Trouble was, she’d only started cutting it because Xara hadn’t told her it was already poisoned. With the antidote still missing, Xara could only assume she took it thinking that was the poison. And if she ingested that alone in a desperate attempt to escape that bastard Pryce, the side effects were dangerous enough to still put her life at risk.
Hanson had found out the location of the hotel that night and did a quick case of the place. By dawn, their surveillance van was parked in a lot among twenty other work vans from a construction company that was currently renovating part of the building. The Scottish curmudgeon sat in the driver’s seat, shaking his head at the sight of Xara, who was in the passenger seat double checking the weapons on her belt.
"You sure you want to do it this way?"
"It's my choice, isn't it?"
"Sure, but there's gonna be consequences. You're supposed to take care of who you're paid to take care of, not just pop any guy who bothers you."
"She's hurting her, Han. She said herself that she's afraid Pryce will make her disappear one day and get away with it. I got into this business to take out people like that."
"I know you did, kid. But that's not the job, okay, we’re not prepared for this. I don’t even think there is a job here anymore. What's the cover story for when this Pryce guy's body is found with his throat cut open? He slipped and fell in the kitchen? The safe thing to do now is walk away and let the lady go through a messy divorce like everybody else. Take her chances in court.”
“What court? You saw those fake medical reports. Pryce is cooking up some bullshit story that she’s a danger to herself. That she’s been losing it since her old man croaked. She’ll be drugged out of her mind and shipped off to an asylum. I’m not letting that happen.”
“Then maybe she will just have to try something else. You’ve got to let her stand up for herself. Because the second she backed out of the deal, this whole thing became her battle. Not ours, okay? Not yours."
Xara jumped out of the van and went around back. Rolling his eyes, Hanson followed and watched her pull on a plain white jumpsuit from a duffle bag – an outfit similar enough to the painters’ uniforms.
"Would you just take a second and think about what you're doing? You know, it’s not just you that gets shite on her face when it hits the fan.”
“You telling me to walk away?”
“No. I’m accepting that it’s too late for that. I’m telling you to think about what exactly you're gonna do once you get in there. Because right now, the look on your face tells me you're about to do something that won’t do anybody any favors, including your little lass.”
Xara paused, a begrudged sigh escaping through her nostrils like a raging bull.
“I won’t kill her, then. I won’t kill anybody. I’ll just take Rosie and run.”
"Ah. Great. So then, the CFO of oh-just one of the largest corporations in Ore, can go looking for her stolen meal ticket in your little lovers’ den. And you're a bigger fool than I thought if you think she'll stop there. Listen, with her connections and Miss Rosie's money, if Pryce digs deep enough, she's bound to find something, especially if the police get dragged in. It's not like we're backed by the government, kid. We can't cover our tracks with fancy gadgets. And there's no high-ranking fed that's gonna call and tell the FBI not to investigate the kidnapping of one of the richest people in the world. The Order has survived as long as it has because the right people look the other way. Low profile, you understand? We get by because the only people we interact with are the ones who can’t afford to wonder where we came from, how we got there, or where we're going next. The rules exist for a reason, X. You're really willing to break them all for one girl?"
Xara stared up at the dark and towering hotel. All noise went mute as that familiar hollow ache rippled within her once again. Her soul was calling out and it would never be whole again if she let go now. So, with resolve of steel, she looked back at her handler and told him the truth.
"Every single one. Now, will you help me or not?"
Hanson groaned, dipping his back so far that his nose pointed at the sky. "Fine. But you have to promise to at least try—try—not let things get out of hand. You cannot compromise The Order, X. Okay, that means discretion is absolutely key here, right?”
“All right.”
“And whatever happens, you're coming with me to explain it Upstairs. No hiding out in the mountains, especially if things get messy."
"Understood. And thanks."
"Yeah, yeah."
Hanson climbed in the back of the van and sat at the computer on top of a makeshift desk against the wall, ready to hack into the security system and become the eyes and ears of this maddening ship.
17.
Don't look.
She pierces deeper and a strangled cry crawls from my mouth.
I don't want to cry, but tears already prick the corners of my eyes.
Me on my stomach, her head pressed into my shoulder, hard grunts in my ear. Pain.
Her nails dig into my arms, pace erratic, growling uneven.
Almost finished.
Almost free.
It was the same night of their arrival to the hotel. Not even a full hour after they set their bags down, the sound of flesh pounding flesh and low aggressive moans pervaded the darkened room.
Perry’s bare-naked grind against the curved base of the dildo came to a jerking end as she came. Sweaty and spent, she raised her head from Rosie’s shoulder, pulled out, then unbuckled and tossed the harness on the floor before rolling over on her back. Sweeping damp hair off her forehead, her eyes remained closed, her breathing steadying. Rosie silently slid out of bed, found her robe on the floor and pulled it around her tightly, trying not to limp as she headed to bathroom.
“Hey, princess?” Perry huffed.
Rosie stilled. “Yes?”
“Don’t ever fight me again.”
Just then, Perry’s phone rang and she eagerly answered. Rosie managed to breathe a little easier then, watching her rush out of bed and into the bathroom to clean up. Her associates needed to meet all of a sudden. She dressed quickly, a string of ‘yes sirs and madams’ falling from her lips, and left the room.
The second the door closed, Rosie grabbed the hotel phone, but her fingers only hovered over the button as she realized she didn’t have a number to reach Xara. The rules. She then tried calling her own phone, but it went straight to voicemail. Probably dead.
In the quiet, surrounded by shadows, the worst of thoughts took root in her, slowly rotting what little blossom of hope she had cultivated. That echo, her soul’s call to the one she loved and it’s yearning for a better future…she could feel it threatening to go silent. Curled up and clutching herself in bed, she cried, internally fighting with all she had to hold on another day.
∞ ∞ ∞
The next morning, the Hayden girl dragged her sluggish form out of bed. After a shower, she primped herself in the usual orderly fashion, all the while harboring a stone in her chest. A burden. A necessity.
She pulled the blue vial out of a make-up pouch in her purse and slipped it into the pocket of her flowy skirt.
A second later, as if sent by fate, Perry let herself into the room. She leaned against the frame of the bathroom door, watching Rosie struggle to fasten her mother’s necklace around her neck.
“Why don’t you wear the one I bought you? Don’t you like it anymore?”
She paused, held back a sigh and put her mother’s charm away in place of the dark stone Perry had bo
ught her as an apology for wrongs she continued to commit. The shark came up behind her and fastened the chain herself while the heiress held her hair out of the way.
“Much better.” Perry smiled, then kissed her shoulder and roped an arm around her waist.
Her touch twisted knots in Rosie’s stomach, but she didn’t let the disgust show on her face, keeping up the pleasantly neutral mask of the perfect doll. In the reflection, she noticed a band-aid over the scratches she left on Perry’s neck when fighting her off and a small kindling of pride almost made her break into a defiant smirk.
“After our union, I’ll need you to be more present at the office for a few months. The Board’s rules are very clear. Any major decisions that impact the future of the company can’t be made without the expressed approval of a Hayden. I tell them you can’t be present at the meetings because you’re still grieving the old man, but rules are rules. I guess, despite how long I’ve busted my ass for this company, my judgement still isn’t worth jack shit without a certain last name behind me.”
Perry twisted Rosie’s hips, forcing them face to face, and ran a hand up her neck. Then with a firm squeeze, she jerked the heiress’ head up, forcing them to lock eyes.
“I think it’s time we went over some ground rules of our own, don’t you? Because if you can’t get these episodes under control, I’m afraid I’ll have to talk to your doctor about how worried I am for your health. The last thing I want to do is send my new wife to a hospital all the way on the other side of the country, so soon after our wedding no less. But I will if that’s what it takes to make her better, to make her act more like herself. Can you imagine it? Spending our honeymoon strapped down to a bed, drooling on yourself. I can and it breaks my heart. That’s no way for a precious little princess like you to live, is it?”
Her faux concern made Rosie’s skin crawl, while the malice underneath it made her tremble with fear despite her best efforts to remain strong.
“No. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Good girl.”
Perry pressed her thin lips against hers in a long smooch and it took everything in Rosie’s power not to grimace.
“Want to make us some coffee?”
Rosie held in a wince as her hands brushed over the bruises on her upper arms and managed a nod.
They sat at the little round table by the balcony door in their room. Rosie served Perry first, then sat across from her and stared into her own cup as the stone in her chest sank deeper.
18.
“Every second counts, kid. On my signal.”
Xara gave a hidden nod, knowing Hanson could see her from the security cameras. The floor guards monitoring the renovation’s progress didn’t give her a second glance as she carried three paint cans down the hall. Several hallways for this section of the hotel were crawling with men and women in white jumpsuits, hats, and masks on their faces to protect themselves from the suffocating fumes. With the elevators full, some workers were directed to take the stairs up to the appropriate floor.
Xara followed a gaggle of painters chatting amongst themselves through the stairwell just a few floors up. Then she slipped into the nearest finished room of freshly painted walls and closed to the door to a crack. After adding her cans to the stack of empty ones at the center of the plastic covered floor, she went to the window in the corner farthest from the door and put a finger against her ear piece.
“I’m in. Eyes?”
Hanson flipped through the security cameras of each floor, looking around the conference rooms and convention halls, including the one in which the rehearsal dinner was scheduled to take place.
“No sign of them yet. Maybe they’re still in the room.”
Xara’s blood boiled at the thought of what that bastard could be doing to her.
“I’m going up—”
“Wait. There are four to six guards on every floor of the building. Just give me a second to redirect them.”
Those seconds felt like hours as Hanson furiously typed and click his way through a back door in the hotel’s network. A second later, the building went dark. The painters and guards murmured and moved around the halls, either confused or worried. Then the alarm system went on the fritz. Metal shutters slammed shut over all the windows and a high-pitched ring blared. Xara slipped on a pair of night-vision frames to navigate the pitch-black darkness, left the room and snuck past the nervous crowd of workers into the stairwell. Because the monitors showed the breach as occurring on the roof, guards on several of the upper floors, including the Hayden girl’s, were ordered to the roof top to investigate.
“Ten minutes.”
Xara bolted up several floors as the alarm died and the shutters rose, jumping two steps at a time.
Her heart pounded against her chest, blood rushing through her ears, and her lungs ached with every breath. Reaching the right floor, she grabbed the handle to the exit door.
“Stop!”
She froze on command, but scowled and hissed. “What?”
“There’s one guard on the floor reassuring some of the guests. Hold on.”
Xara unzipped her painter jumpsuit and tied the sleeves around her waist, letting the cool air waft over her sleeveless sweat-stained undershirt while Hanson worked his magic. The crafty handler gave the guard urgent orders from his own satellite handcomm in the van, but through a veil of static, making the orders unclear. Concerned he might be missing something, the guard guided the worried guests back into their rooms, then rushed to the elevators, heading to the security room several floors down as he yelled for a repeat of whatever orders just came in.
“All right, when these cameras down, they aren’t staying that way long. Fifteen seconds, go!”
Xara threw open the exit door and fast walked down two adjacent halls to Rosie’s room. An altered keycard already in hand, she swiped it over the door’s lock, frying the mechanic. At the sound of the beep, she twisted the handle and slipped into the room.
∞ ∞ ∞
The only light in the room came from the clouded sun filtering in through the curtains. Xara kept her back against the wall and her fist around the hilt of a blade pulled from her belt. When she didn’t hear a single footstep, hardly a breath, she figured the room empty and walked in further.
Knocked over coffee mugs on the table by the balcony door drew her attention to a pair of legs peeking out from the edge of the bed. She stepped closer and found Perry Pryce unconscious on the floor. Her suit unkempt as if it had been clawed at, beads of sweat on her forehead, and dried foam on her cheek.
An overwhelming part of the assassin was disappointed to discover the bastard still had a pulse, but she had more pressing things to think about. She ran to the bathroom and her heart rose like an anchor upon finding Rosie there, sitting in the dry shower with her knees drawn up and her face buried in folded arms.
“Rosie!”
The heiress raised her head just as Xara came through the shower’s sliding door, her reddened puffy eyes squinted as if seeing a ghost.
“A-are you really here?”
Xara took hold of Rosie’s hesitantly outstretched arms and brought her to a stand, instantly wrapping her arms around her trembling form.
“Are you okay?” She cupped the small girl’s face, then checked her hands for defensive wounds. Besides the fresh marks on her arms, she wasn’t hurt, though clearly far from fine.
"I thought you would’ve disappeared, the rules…I thought I was alone…I-I killed her. I killed Perry. I-I watched her—"
"No, baby, no." Xara wiped away her tears. "She's not dead, you just made her sick."
"But the poison—"
"That was the antidote, the poison was in the fruit—I'll explain it all later. Right now, we have to go."
"But-but if I run now, she'll have to find me, the police will have to find me. I-I have to turn myself in. Punishments aren't as bad if you turn yourself in, that's how it works, right? You-you should go before—”
“No, I’m not going anywhere. Hey, look at me. Breathe. Okay?”
She nodded.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay.”
“Heads up, boyo. Security system detected the hacked keycard as a glitch, guards and the manager are on the move to check it out. You've got five minutes before they’re at the door.”
“Copy.”
Xara kissed Rosie on the forehead and told her to wait there, then hurried to the front room to deal with Perry Pryce. Rolling out the largest suitcase from the closet, she dragged it to the bastard, then began to strip her down to her underclothes.
Having gathered her nerve with a splash of water to the face, Rosie came out to help, quickly following Xara’s lead.
“What are we doing?”
"I'll know when we're done."
"Okay.” She sniffled, then took a steadying breath. “Good enough."
They rolled half-naked Perry into the open suitcase and started folding her lanky limbs into the corners. She was half zipped in when a knock on the door startled Rosie. They pushed the suitcase behind the bed where her body had fallen, out of sight from the door.
Xara started to unsheathe her blade, but Rosie stayed her with a touch. She took the assassin’s hand, pulled her into the bathroom, and told her to turn on the shower. Grabbing the closest hand towel and a compact of blush from the pile of scattered makeup on the counter, she cracked open the latter and patted her damp face with the former.
“Coming!” She called out after the second series of knocks and slipped into a cardigan sweater to hide her arms before opening the door. “Mr. Kane,” she greeted, nodding and smiling at the trio of guards behind the hotel manager before her.
“So sorry to disturb you, Miss Hayden.”
“Is this about the alarm? It’s not a problem really. We got a bit startled, but once we heard one of your men telling the guests not to worry, we went back to our routines.”
“Glad to hear it. We also noticed some strange activity with the cameras and locks, particularly on this floor. We just wanted to make sure everything was all right.”