Bats in the Belfry

by S C Jones

  Marco took the picture from her hands, and sighed as he looked it over. “Lane, I gave you this picture the day you moved in. Don’t you remember?" he said cheerlessly looking down at her.

  “No." She shook her head in disbelief. “No b…because you didn’t,” she stammered.

  He nodded. “Yes, I did, look, see the back where I wrote happy move, hope you’re not afraid of gays. See, right here.” He pointed at the words written in gold and fancy lettering in the lower right hand corner. She stared at it as he shook his head placing his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, I’ll take you home. You should rest, maybe you’ll feel better tomorrow.” She didn’t say anything, but let him guide her out of the empty apartment and into her own.

  Once she was in bed, blinds fully drawn, covers pulled over her body, eyes glued to the ceiling Marco left, gently closing the door behind him. She turned on her side toward the window, and closed her eyes hard while the silence surrounded her.

  “I’m not crazy.”

  ***

  Sunday….

  “I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy.” The phone rang.

  “I’m not crazy.”

  And rang.

  “I…I…I’m not crazy.” And rang, until it died late Sunday night.

  Monday…

  Elliot and Lane collided that morning on her way in as he was on his way out. They both stopped at the elevator. “Lane, are you okay? You don’t look so good,” he whispered concerned, eyes moving from her messy uncombed bun to the mismatched pink blouse and green skirt covering her body. She hadn’t slept since Saturday night, and was on edge from all the coffee she had been drinking since then.

  She jumped at the sound of his voice, almost as if she hadn’t seen him approach. As she stepped away from him, eyes going wide before looking down at her tan covered feet. “I—I’m good. Just a—bit tired.”

  “Oh, I guess you were busy doing something else, since you forgot about our date,” he said disappointedly looking down at the ground between them. She had forgotten about him, and everything else, trying hard to remind herself that what she knew was real. Her world was falling apart and the last thing she wanted was to drag him into it.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy with my dad and the house and I couldn’t find my phone again. It was just a—a mess. Everything was just a mess,” she exhaled pressing the call button repeatedly. She didn't notice she was doing it until he pulled her hand away.

  “Hey, hey, hey, no worries,” he said moving his hands to her shoulders keeping her in place. “We can always try again. It’s no big deal.”

  She moved out of his reach and looked at him almost angrily. “No, no we can’t. Look Elliot I.. I have a lot going on right now and I really can’t focus on a relationship. I hope you can understand that.”

  “Understand what exactly? How I asked you out and you said yes. How I waited at that restaurant for almost an hour, calling your phone but you wouldn’t pick up, until I got voicemail and took the hint,” he said angrily looking down on her as if she was a disobedient child that needed scolding.

  Rubbing her hands up and down her arm she didn’t look at him as she responded. “I’m sorry, you should have known it was never going to work.”

  “How would I know that?” He exclaimed running a hand through his hair. “That’s bull shit, Lane. Something’s up with you, I know it. We had fun the other night, you said so yourself.” The elevator door opened and she stepped in pressing the button for her floor. “Lane,” he pleaded wanting her to look at him as he held the door open with one arm.

  “No.” She shook her head moving into the corner. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  “Fine, fuck this,” he blurted aggressively before storming off with the door slowly closing her in.

  When she got to her floor, she dropped her bag on her desk and took a seat. It was almost eight thirty and Mr. Taylor was going to be there any minute, and even though she knew she had to get up and make his coffee, open his office door and get rid of any leftovers from the day before, she just sat there. She didn’t know how to feel anymore. Didn’t know if she wanted to cry or scream or runaway to the four walls of her apartment, to keep chanting the words she’d been chanting for the past day and a half, until she felt better about everything and everyone disappearing from her life.

  This was exactly how he was in the beginning she thought. Jittery, scared, seeing things, people that weren’t real, K.C, Adrian. “I made them up. There not real, they were never real.” She rubbed her head shutting her eyes.

  “Good morning, Lane.” She quickly stood spinning to face Mr. Taylor, Sylas, and another man she hadn’t seen before. He was big like Sylas and had a scar running from his right ear almost to his nose. He was as scary as Sylas too, and made her skin crawl even worst. They all looked at her carefully, causing her eyes to move from one to the next to next. Realizing she still hadn’t said anything she cleared her throat.

  “Good, morn—”

  “We’ll be in my office. I’d like you to come and join us, in let’s say… ten minutes,” he demanded as he turned and unlocked his office door. Usually if he had come in and found his door still locked, he would have thrown a fit, and read her the right act, but today he unlocked it. Like, just turned and put the key in and unlocked it. She stood there shocked at that little act she had never seen before.

  Sylas turned and before disappearing as much as any large man could behind a glass door, he winked, smiling as bright as a cashmere cat before following the other men. She stood, staring at the men through the glass before the glass frosted.

  Turning away she faced the back wall, her hand rubbing her arm like she did downstairs with Elliot. Thoughts began running ramped in her head. “Why does he want to talk to me, with them? What is this, what does he want?” she murmured to herself.

  “Maybe he knows,” a voice whispered back. She turned to the left but found no one there. She could have sworn someone was there. “He knows,” the voice whispered again.

  “He knows what I did, he knows I know something. They’re going to take me to shut me up, maybe even kill me. No, no— yes. That’s why that man’s here. Why they want to see me together.”

  “You need to get out,” said the voice, causing her to frantically look around the empty floor. Her head was spinning, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from looking in every possible direction.

  “I need to get out of here.” Grabbing her purse, she stumbled around her desk, relieved the glass was still frosted while she quickly bolted for the elevator, rapidly pressing the button and trying to keep watch of the door behind her.

  Once the elevator arrived and she was safely inside, she took a couple breaths, eagerly willing them to open again so she could be rid of this place and these people. She had had enough, and she couldn’t be outside anymore, couldn’t be around regular people without feeling threatened or scared they were trying to hurt or kill her. She needed to be safe, home in her apartment, locked away and alone, where no one could find her.

  No one.

  ***

  On a plane somewhere in the sky….

  Castell sat in his private jet looking out at the ocean below. He was pissed off to the point that his hands shook every time he tried to pick something up. The flight attendant came over and handed him a glass of scotch and ice. Thanking her, he took it from her hands and watched her smile before turning and walking away. She was pretty, sweet with her long tanned legs and amazing breasts that would fit perfectly in his hands. The only problem was he hadn’t thought about fucking her, or any other woman in the past few weeks.

  Olivia plagued his mind like a beautiful nightmare, so much so he found himself hard as a rock every time he thought about any part of her. The last time they were together replayed over and over in his head. From the way she gripped him, and wrapped her lips around his cock, sucking him in like a vacuum on high, to the way she moaned his name when he slammed into her, pulling her hair ju
st the way she liked it. To how she comforted him after confessing his sins. She had surprised him, being what he needed when he thought she would run. She knew who he was now, all of him and she didn't run. Shifting in his seat he brought his glass up to his lips and took a sip before looking across the aisle at Chrissy. “How much longer till we land,” he asked.

  She looked up from the laptop in front of her and looked at the watch on her hand. “About an hour give or take. Tell me why we are back on this plane again in such a short period of time? Not that I’m complaining, but really what gives?” That was a question he would like an answer to himself.

  He was this close to finding Santiago that he could smell his blood on his hands. The man was the devil that created his own hell on earth with every girl he took and destroyed. He ran one of the largest slave trade rings in Italy that sought girls from all over the world, most recently America. It was a known fact that you should never shit where you eat, but the man had a clientele that sought out American girls, girls his father had to source. His father said they were the cream of the crop, and one was worth millions.

  His father ran his own trade, had his own girls which he sold to Santiago on a moment’s notice. The man called demanding one in each color maybe two, and offered up a couple million a head. The trade was made some days later, money was banked, and sometimes Santiago even sent his father some exotic girls as a gift to add to his own private collection.

  Castell hated the business, hated his father even more for forcing him into it. He knew the kind of man he wanted to be and his father wasn’t it. So, he pretended to work for him, tracked the girls his father shipped and got most of them back to their families. The ones he couldn’t were already dead which broke him as far as any man could break knowing he had a hand to play in their deaths. He prayed for forgiveness, vowed that he wouldn’t stop until Santiago and his father paid.

  After days of searching coming up empty handed to finally catching a break, his dad called and demanded he return as soon as possible since there was a problem, he needed his help in fixing. What was the problem? He didn’t know, but apparently it was some big secret because not even Sylas would tell. “I don’t know, some problem back at the office. Can't say for sure.”

  “You think it’s serious?”

  “Must be if my father was so eager, I come back.” She shrugged returning to her laptop. He turned his attention back to the window. Won’t be long now he thought. He was going to see Olivia as soon as this mess with his father was cleaned up, and then she would know she was his, whether she wanted it or not.

  ***

  Back in her apartment Lane locked herself in, settling herself on the couch with her legs tucked beneath her. She was home now, safe. Now what would she do? Sit around and hope that it would all go away? What she saw or thought she saw wasn't real, and once she understood that everything would be okay. But how could it? Her father had gone along with it. Was adamant that he would be okay if he was left alone, but that wasn’t true, he was never okay. He always saw, they were always there, and he was never alone.

  Her stomach grumbled as she realized she’d missed breakfast. Raising from the couch she went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Inside she found a jar of mustard, a tub of butter and two cans of soda. Closing the fridge, she opened the cupboards only to find packets of seasoning and a half eaten box of stale frosted flakes. She hadn’t been shopping in weeks, and would have never noticed if she wasn’t out most nights partying and drinking, or over at K.C’s doing lord knows what, since none of that was real. Now she needed food.

  Deciding it was best to walk to the convenience store on the corner, she locked her door and headed out. Took less than five minutes to get there and once she was, she grabbed a basket piling it with eggs, milk, bread, a bottle of tequila, and a few other things she thought she could use over the next few days.

  At the cashier, she waited in line behind a woman and her two kids. One of the little girls maybe about five or six turned and smiled at her, giving a small wave before her mother grabbed their bags, and walked them toward the door. When it was her turn, she placed each item on the counter and watched as the short man standing behind it began ringing her up. Turning to look out the window she saw the two little girls again and smiled at how happy they were holding hands while they waited with their mother to cross the street. It was funny how she suddenly missed something she never had in times of crisis or impending insanity. For her it was both. Why deny the inevitable when she knew when push came to shove, that was what it was to any sane person looking into a mind like hers. Insanity

  “Miss, fourteen seventy-five,” the guy said.

  She took out her wallet and pulled out a fifty, handing it to him. “Sorry.” Once given her change, which she stuffed in her skirt pocket, she grabbed her bags and headed out the door.

  Stepping through the front door of her building, she heard a thumping beat followed by the tantalizing upbeat singing of a Spanish guy coming through the walls of Marco’s apartment. She smiled to herself while climbing the stairs, thinking of inviting him up for martinis tonight to thank him for helping her Saturday. She figured she’d come back down tonight once the martinis were made, knowing he’d never say no to an invitation like that.

  Opening her apartment door, she walked in and shut the door, locking it behind her. Heading toward the kitchen she dumped the bags on the counter and began unpacking them, putting the fridge items in the fridge and the cupboard items in the cupboards. Once that was done, she figured she’d take a shower before making lunch since it was already too late to make breakfast.

  She started unbuttoning her blouse while she turned the corner just off the kitchen. Stopping dead in her tracks, her hand froze, eyes wide, swallowing her tongue when she focused on the big powerful stance of Sylas, standing at the end of the short hallway. He had a wolfish grin on his face, and gazed at her as if eagerly awaiting her next move only to crush it and say, 'I win.'

  Her hands began shaking when she released the second button before they fell dead at her sides. Mind going blank the moment fear took over, she couldn’t scream, but turned with the thought of running. That plan was quickly doused when she spotted Garrett in her living room.

  His pensive stare remained focused on her when he moved casually toward her couch and took a seat. “You left in such a rush earlier. I wanted to make sure you were okay… Are you? Okay that is,” he said charmingly, his face unmoving as he continued to stare.

  Lane glanced from him to Sylas as he moved from the hall to standing in her kitchen. “H—how did you know where to find me?” Her voice was wobbly, even though she tried staying calm. Every bone in her body shook with fear, and there was nothing she could do.

  “It’s an easy thing to do when you work for someone like me. I make it my business to know everything about everyone I come in contact with and you were no different.”

  “Then why are you here? If you know everything about me, then you’d know I have nothing you want.”

  “That’s where you're wrong, my little Lane. You do have something I want.” His heated gaze roamed her body hungrily, before licking his lips and standing.

  Lane held her bottom lip between her teeth biting down hard trying to feel something other than the fear. Garrett started circling the room looking at the pictures on the mantel and touching the little knickknacks she’d collected throughout the years. “Well I can’t give you that.” She finally mumbled with a piercing look. Her lips trembled, and the taste of blood touched her tongue.

  He chuckled before stopping and looking at her most amused. “And what if I took it? Do you think you can stop me?”

  “No,” she admitted sadly, looking down at her tangled fingers. She couldn’t fight him, just like she couldn’t fight Scott’s dad.

  “Exactly, but that’s not the reason I’m here. You see Lane I like you. I liked you the day my son brought you to me and even now. What I don’t like is you, when you’re doing things I d
on’t like.” Her eyes snapped to him while her heart started beating faster. He stopped moving and looked at her gravely. “I actually liked that little plan of yours. It was well thought out and would have been well executed had Elliot been more forthright about one little fact. Do you want to know what it is?” She stood silently shaking, not responding to a word, but he went on. “The one thing about that software he forgot to mention, was that I get alerts as soon as someone accesses my computer without my permission,” he said jeeringly coming to a stop directly in front of her. Using two fingers to lift her chin, he wrapped his fingers around her jaw. He wanted to see the fear in her eyes, to see that she understood there was no way out, and that whatever she was thinking was inferior to what he knew was going to happen. “I know it was you. I know what you found and I know what you think you know.”

  Her eyes gleamed, holding back tears. “How,” she choked which had the bastard smiling before releasing her face roughly.

  “So, you’re admitting it?”

  “You said you know, so why play this game.”

  “I like that, owning up to your mistakes. Most people don’t do that.” He turned and planted himself back on the couch. “The day you found those codes, I’ve been keeping a close eye on you. I planted that email for you to find because I knew it was just a matter of time before you found your way into my computer. When Elliot told me, he told you about the software, I just knew…. And then there’s the little matter with my son.” She swallowed, her eyes still focused on his which were begging her to ask what he meant, but before she could a knock sounded on the door.