Bats in the Belfry

by S C Jones

  “Nooooo, you guys are pretty great in my book. Tonight, was actually a lot more fun than I thought it would be.” Lane flushed before exiting the stall.

  Chrissy walked out two seconds later, and stood next to her as they stared at each other’s reflection. “I’m so glad you’re having fun. This is the first night in weeks since I left for that place that I’ve been able to let loose. So far it’s only been meeting after meeting and Castell’s temper tantrums and the spontaneous changing around of his schedule that has me completely spinning.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked turning on the tap.

  “Oh, it’s just that we planned this trip down to every last detail from where he had to be and at what time of the day. Then we get there, and he gets these phone calls where his only response to the person on the other end is yes and okay which causes me to have to cancel whatever he has going on that day as he disappears. Now he thinks we might have to stay a week longer than planned. I am so fed up of that place I could break down into tears at any minute." She smiled sadly, pulling paper towels from the wall dispenser.

  Lane followed, and soon after they both headed for the door while Lane pulled it opened. “And you have no idea where he goes, or who he’s talking to?”

  “Not a clue. All he said is I have to go and cancel my meetings,” she said lowering her voice to sound more like a man. Was this it? She thought. His secrecy, canceling meetings, running off to God knows where. She had to know more, to bring the secrets to the surface, even if it took everything in her to find out the truth, these men had to pay for their crimes and what they had done to her.

  They returned to the others who had all new glasses filled with more colorful drinks. Tiffany and Cortney got out to let her back in, but Lane stood, staring at the clock on the wall near the back. It was a few minutes past twelve and for some strange reason she had this nagging feeling inside her head that there was somewhere she had to be. “You going to stare at the clock all night or are you going to get in?” Cortney asked as she stood waiting for her sit.

  Lane who found herself shaking her head, grabbed her clutch off the table stepping back. “No, I should get going,” she said looking over at the clock once more.

  “What? You can’t go,” Cortney said looking her over with a frown. That nagging feeling was becoming more of a kick in the ass, pushing her toward the door.

  “I think have to. I can’t really explain but… there’s somewhere I should be.”

  “We’ll all right then. A girl’s gotta go, a girl’s gotta go. It was great meeting you, Lane.” Chrissy stood hugging her goodbye.

  “You too, Chrissy. I’ll see you guys Monday.” She waved and turned heading for the door. Lane had no idea where she needed to be, but something in her did, and maybe it would provide the answers she was seeking.

  On her way to the exit, she was hauled by bartender Ryan who grabbed her shoulder before pulling her into a corridor near the exit. "So, we meet again. You ran off the last time, and still owe me that dance." Lane was pressed against the wall, him leaning in with a heated look on his face. His hand gripped her outer thigh before moving under her dress.

  She begun to panic, tried pushing at his chest but he wouldn't move. Who was this guy, she thought. "Excuse me I don't know who you are or who you think you are but get your hands off me," she snapped, slapping at his hand, and kept pushing.

  He smirked seeming unfazed. "Come on is this like a game." He leaned in kissing her neck.

  She shoved at him getting pissed. This wasn't happening again, she thought. She wasn't a weak little girl anymore, and people needed to understand that. "Get off me," she growled.

  "Come one, red," he cooed. "I thought you were into me, because I am definitely into you."

  Why was he doing this, she thought. Who was this guy, and what was he talking about? She was so angry at this point, she just wanted to leave. "Let. Me Go," she said between clenched teeth, before lifting a leg up and connecting it with his growing erection. He toppled over in pain groaning and cursing at her. She was tired of men always taking what they wanted, making her feel weak and helpless. She wasn't either, and it was time they understood that. "Fuck you, you son of a bitch." She ran for the exit.

  Once outside she exhaled, and smiled. Lane sure did a number on that hot piece of ass, Olivia thought. Lucky for her she had another ass who was in need of her attention, or she would have stayed to rub it in some more.

  Seventeen

  Castell Taylor and Olivia Bennett had a dark history together. He was her kidnapper. Someone she wanted to hunt down and hurt for years. She had always known who the important business mogul was, but as he had said all those years ago, never to mumble a word; she kept it to herself. There was nothing she could do because there was no proof. What would she have said if she had gone to the police and made it know that one of the biggest business owners in Felicity was into human trafficking? They would have laughed in her face.

  That night he let her go, that word,

  ‘Run.’

  ‘Run.’

  ‘Run,’ stuck with her like a bad song on repeat. She needed to know why. Why he took her, kept her, and then let her go. She needed to know the whole truth behind his father, and this sick life they had.

  Olivia pressed the button for the penthouse typing in the four digit code he had given her. Two minutes later, the doors opened and she was back in his living room once again.

  His voice streamed from the hall that led to the kitchen, so she followed it. The one night she spent here made it very easy for her to memorize every beautiful inch of every beautiful room. Everything was imprinted in her head as she looked around and now, as her heels clicked on the white tiled floor, and she stood in the doorway watching him while he stood inside the open fridge with his phone pressed against his ear, she felt like she could be apart of his world. If only she didn't secretly want to kill him.

  Dressed in a plain white shirt, buttons open to the front and black dress pants resting low on his hips, she admitted, she wanted him then, after suffering without him for so long, but she couldn't. It was important she knew the truth, and she couldn’t think with her vagina for once.

  He turned, but didn’t look surprised to see her. Instead his eyes heated when his gaze went from her shoes to the knot on top her head. With the last few words of his conversation spoken, he ended his call with a swipe of his phone, before dropping it on the counter, and a slow smile graced his lips. “Not so busy after all?”

  She shrugged. “Guess not. Couldn’t have you come into town, and not pay you a little visit.” A sheepish smile touched her lips. The alcohol was definitely doing a number, but she tried to stay focused.

  “Does that mean you actually wanted to see me?” he asked curiously.

  She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing she did, that she had been looking forward to this since the night they talked, so she played it off. “Why don’t we head into the living room, have a drink. I’m a bit thirsty,” she said changing the subject.

  “You look like you already had a lot to drink,” he said scanning her body once more as she pulled the knot from her head.

  She got a chill that went straight between her legs when his eyes dropped into that sinful stare, but she quickly turned and headed back the way she came before it was over before it started. “You coming or what.” She threw a look over her shoulder, before his footsteps followed.

  She walked over to the wet bar near the windows and started filling two glasses with ice. “Wow, if someone saw this, they would think you actually lived here,” he said taking the glass from her outstretched hand.

  “Well, that someone probably doesn’t know me very well because if they had they would know I could never willingly live with a man,” she took a sip of his expensive bourbon watching him over the rim of the glass.

  “And why’s that?”

  “Don’t need another set of rules.” She started pacing.

  His eyebrows
flew up. “Rules? And what makes you think there would be rules?”

  “Please, men are all about rules. It would be like living with my father all over again except this time we’d fuck… on occasion.” Her eyebrow cocked with another sip.

  “No occasion, baby. If you lived with me, we’d fuck all the time no doubt about that,” he said matter-of-factly causing her to stop, looking at him tentatively.

  “And there it is, rule number one.” Breaking her stare, she returned to pacing. “Then there’s the no going out without me rule and the ever so lovely no male friends’ rule.” That earned her a smile. “Tell me, why does a man feel threatened by his girlfriend’s male friends, even if it’s just a friendly, ‘hi,’ from the neighbor?”

  He stepped closer, leaning in slightly. “It’s simple, a man wants what he can’t have. A beautiful, sexy woman like yourself spread out underneath him is what he dreams about, and becoming friends or saying ‘hi,’ is just a quick way of getting him there. If you think your neighbor isn’t looking at you in that piece of scrap you call a dress and thinking about what sounds you would make when he draws one of those….” He pointed to her very hard protruding nipples that were currently printing through her dress, “beautiful nipples into his mouth and sucking on them like his only bottle of water after a fifty mile hike, or running his hand up your naked thigh only to realize that you’re actually not wearing any panties.” They leered at each other, wondering who would make the next move. “You’re in denial, sweetheart and I must be stupid to let what’s mine be around men like that.” He blinked breaking the spell.

  She cleared her throat guzzling the rest of her drink. This was harder than she thought. The man was a good talker, and she was wetter than a fucking fountain. “You mean like you?”

  “Exactly. But unlike those men I don’t want to be your friend. I want to fuck you. I want to make you mine and I’m not going to beat around the bush until you decide you’re ready to give me what I want.”

  “So, you take—”

  “No, I lay it out there. No false pretenses, no lies about being just friends while secretly beating off to the vision of your lips wrapped around my cock in the shower. I tell you what I want and if you don’t want it, there’s always someone else who’s just as willing to give it, but in your case I really want it to be you and just you,” he said adamantly moving in front of her and pouring himself another drink, swallowing all in one go.

  She inhaled looking at his strong profile as the glass touched his lips a second time. She loved the fact that he wanted her the way she wanted him. If she had to choose any man to give herself wholeheartedly to it would be him, but at the thought, how could she when he didn’t know half of her, and she didn’t know all of him. She was deteriorating from the plan as she thought about his mouth on her now hard nipples pulling, and tugging on them like he had done the time before. Her mouth had gone dry, as she placed the glass to her lips and took a sip. He was making her wanton. No man had ever done that, and it was infuriating that she wanted him so badly.

  He was staring at her with alluring eyes from above his glass before moving it away from his lips letting his arm fall dead at his sides. “You want to tell me exactly why you’re here?” He turned away walking toward the couch.

  “Because you invited me.”

  “Which you clearly made an excuse not to accept. So, I ask again. Why the change of heart?”

  “What? A girl can’t change her mind?”

  “A girl can, but you Olivia don’t peg me as the type. You’re more of a, ‘what I say goes and that’s final,’ kind of girl, am I right?”

  “I guess." She shrugged crossing her arms over her chest. He was making her second guess herself, as his eyes leered at the swell of her breast created by her arms.

  Quickly letting them fall away he continued. “So, since you’re here because I invited you, what would you like to do?” He stood walking toward her. His velvety voice and smoldering eyes told her exactly what he wanted, as he stood in front of her trailing his thumb along her bottom lip.

  She blinked, licking the path his finger had passed. “Everything that’s currently on your mind, of course.” He leaned in, she stayed still, watching, wanting, needing. She pressed a hand against his chest. “But first I have a question.” She slipped under his arm pulling in a sharp breath once her back was to him. The impassive look she caught before she turned almost made her laugh.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, there a problem?” She innocently asked turning to gaze at him. She could have sworn she heard him growl as he passed her on his way back to the couch, making himself comfortable, with legs spread wide like an open invitation for her to get between them.

  With his arms over the back of the couch he blinked. “Okay, but I don’t guarantee I’ll answer it.”

  Turning away before she lost all nerve and did what her body wanted to do, she asked. “The night we met at the club, was it the first time?” She turned and watched his face.

  He didn’t move, didn’t have one of his panty dropping smiles, or even a nervous twitch which made her wonder if he'd heard the question at all. “Why do you ask?”

  “A question with a question Mr. Taylor…hmm, that wasn’t what we agreed upon.” He didn’t say anything else but his face hardened with annoyance. “I just got the feeling like I’ve met you before,” she paced. “Somewhere—but I couldn’t remember where.” She stopped, looking over at him. “Any ideas? Because I’m really good with faces, but yours slipped right passed me. I’m actually good with voices too, and I heard this very particular one the other day that caught my attention. It even brought back a buried memory—”

  “What exactly is this about Olivia?” His voice was like a knife cutting through her rant, as annoyance laced every last syllable of that question.

  “I think you know exactly what this is about,” she said. “Because if I continue this little monolog I have going, I would guarantee you won’t like it when I get to the end.”

  “Because I already know the end,” he said knowingly. “Ask it… Ask me the ending, O.”

  She looked away when he called her like that. Remembering how much she liked it when he did. “Why’d you take me?” she whispered.

  He downed the rest of his drink then stood heading to pour himself another. A full minute went by where he stood there, staring at the full glass in his hand, contemplating on how to make the situation better, but there was no better. There was only worse. “You know that day wasn’t exactly supposed to turn out the way it did. He wanted another girl because the one he had wasn’t what they would have wanted. She wasn’t beautiful enough, he said. I was at school when he called saying he needed my help. He needed another one. A red head preferably.”

  “So, what, I was the first red head you spotted?” She scowled.

  “No. You were just the first one that caught my attention.” He didn’t look at her taking another sip as the thoughts of that night begun flowing from his lips. “I was so pissed off that night that I drove around for hours trying to calm down with no luck, but as soon as I saw you all of it just… went away. Do you know you were talking to yourself as you walked, and I couldn’t for the life of me not look at you. Then you looked at me with the most beautiful brown eyes and that was it. Once you were in my car… I just…I couldn’t let you go—”

  “But you did? Why do that to me? Take me there, have me know your secret and just let me go?”

  Moving his hand away from his lips he looked at her gloweringly. “I don’t know. I want to say that you were different, but I honestly don't know the answer.”

  “How?” she cried angrily. “Explain it to me. Was my life worth more than theirs?”

  “At the time yes, yes it was. I couldn’t have let you all go he would have known I did it on purpose. You wouldn't have gotten as far as you did.”

  “So, you chose me?” she said with a blank stare.

  “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let them take you
. I thought I could do it; I waited those two days telling myself that I could do it. That there was nothing special about you, that you were just another faceless, nameless girl, but you weren’t. I knew your name; I memorized your face until I saw it in my dreams. I felt connected to you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I couldn’t let them hurt you.”

  Feeling like she couldn’t breathe she held her chest, but it wasn’t the lack of air going through her lungs that was the problem, it was the look in his eyes, that undeniable grief that haunted him. She couldn’t ignore it. He was begging her to understand to forgive him, but, how could she? “So what? I’m supposed to thank you now? You were the one that kidnapped me in first place.”

  He sighed pouring another drink. “You asked me a question, I’m just giving you the honest answer.”

  Her head snapped in his direction, with a sneer on her lips, before she was moving toward him. “You’re a fucking monster.”

  “You don’t know a fucking thing about me to know what I am,” he said between gritted teeth with glass in hand.

  “Really? You’re going to play that card. You don’t know me to know what I am. You. Fucking Kidnapped. Me!” she yelled. “What does that make you?” She pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge.

  He glared at her hard before grabbing her arm to stop her. “You were the only one.”

  “What?”

  “You were my only one,” he repeated.

  She ripped her arm away. “You want to add liar to your rap sheet too. Do I look gullible or stupid to you?”

  “I may be a lot of things Olivia, but I’m no liar. Believe it or not you were my first and only take,” he said truthfully.

  She eyed him carefully. “That’s bullshit. I heard the conversations between you and your father between those walls—”

  “Yeah? Did you actually hear me say otherwise?”

  “You said you were tired of doing this. That you wanted to live a different life.”