Destroy Me

by Laura Bailey

  “We just need to sit tight and ride this one out. There’s no clear evidence leading back to me. There’s no body. It will be circumstantial at best, and probably the questionable word of one or two of Chambers’ mercenaries. My biggest concern, yet again, is Tara.”

  He laughed, remembering the times he had already said that. Whilst it wasn’t her fault, when she had shown up, she seemed to bring a whole heap of trouble with her.

  “Be careful with your cell phones. They’re going to be monitoring things. Chambers was a high profile figure, with lots of connections in this City. There’s going to be pressure on those Detectives to get a result.”

  They sat together, appearing to any onlookers completely relaxed, and whilst they were concerned, they were not prepared to buckle under the pressure of this development. They had got through much worse before now, and would take this as they always did. With a calm confidence that things would work out.

  They lunched on steak and fries. Though Damien was wealthy beyond means, and though he liked luxury when it came to cars and motorbikes, he had changed very little from his time in the Military; he still roughed it with everyone else on missions. He didn’t live a flamboyant lifestyle; he was a man’s man, and had little time for ostentiousness. He had imagined at one point, after an evening of erotic fulfilment with Tara, of how pleasant it would be to take her to Venice and then on to a house he owned on the Amalfi coast; to spend their time enjoying the beauty of the region and each other, for days uninterrupted.

  Now however, it appeared practicality was dictating that he fetch her back to D.C., asap.

  When they returned to the office, he opened the email that she had sent him, a week ago. Reading it, he cursed at the content.

  The fact that she had mentioned he had paid her money could very easily be misconstrued by the authorities as ‘hush’ money; paying her off to keep her quiet, to stop her talking, although she referred to it as payment for sex. What he felt for her however, was so much more than that. He didn’t realise she would view it that way, and he felt ashamed to have left her thinking that was all it was. Though he had never experienced sex like it in his life, the intimacy of it with her taking his breath away, what he felt for her went way beyond just sex.

  He felt bad as he read the message, sad at the way in which he had treated her so terribly at the end.

  He should have dealt with sending her away much better. He had at least owed her an explanation as to why he couldn’t continue to see her. When she had caught him, at his most vulnerable, the night she had walked in on him with tears flowing down his face, he had felt such anger and humiliation that he had never wanted her to see him like that again, and if she had stayed with him, she would have done. He had had to push her away.

  God alone knew how she must be feeling now. From the tone of her email he could tell very clearly that she was furious and disgusted with him. Though he had been away on a job, on the other side of the world, it hadn’t stopped him craving the very scent of her, the look in her eyes as they darkened with desire for him, the benediction she gave him to do with her body whatever he desired; the sensation of coming home when he was inside of her.

  Tara got home that night around ten pm, delaying her return to her apartment for as long as she could, burying herself in work until Joseph had noticed her on his way out and told her to call it a night, that she had no need to be there at that time. She could have said the same back to him, but he had a more vested interest given that it was his company.

  For days she had expected Damien to at least reply to her email. She had checked the inbox on her phone constantly for the first few days; sure that one would pop up soon. But nothing had come and she had virtually given up on seeing one from him. At first she had refused to believe he wouldn’t send a message, apologising and asking her to come back, but now she was either filled with anger or yearning for him, craving the feel of his touch, seeking the fire as his body scorched hers.

  The next morning she woke up tired. She’d stayed up late talking on the phone to an old friend from Oxford, who was completing a PhD at the University there. She discussed with her the possibility of doing one herself, and they had talked long into the night.

  As she rose to get out of bed she realised she appeared to have slept through her alarm. She was going to be late for work.

  Showering and dressing quickly, she rushed out of the apartment block. It was raining hard, but by the time she ran all the way back to her apartment to grab an umbrella, she would be even later.

  Walking fast along the street she swore as the rain poured down on her. She hoped she wouldn’t be in trouble for being late; although she had been there late the night before, Joseph was a stickler for punctuality.

  In the office lift, she checked her appearance in the mirror. She looked a mess. Her wet hair was stuck to her face and she hadn’t had time to put any make-up on.

  Going straight to her desk, she quickly logged on to her computer.

  Before she noticed, Joseph was standing behind her.

  “Tara, would you come into my office please?”

  As she turned around, his face looked serious. Was he really going to tell her off? She was only a few minutes late. She thought about her work. Had she screwed some of the paperwork up, in a distracted moment?

  She followed him inside, and Joseph sat down, gesturing for her to do the same. To her relief, he smiled at her then. She genuinely liked Joseph and she had huge respect for him. He had always been fair and kind to her. He was a very caring man, who had a benevolent nature, underneath a sharp mind.

  “Are you happy to be back Tara?”

  “Yes, of course, thank you.”

  He looked at her in silence, as though thinking what to say next.

  “Why?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  “I’ve had a somewhat unusual request.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you know Damien Lawson. Of course you do; he was Mike’s employer when we seconded Mike over here to do a job for the US Embassy.”

  At the mention of Damien’s name her pulse rate shot up.

  “Are you ok Tara? You’re very pale.”

  “Yes, thank you.” She took a couple of deep breaths.

  “Well, as I was saying, Damien contacted me last night. We had a conversation about you.”

  Her eyes widened involuntarily at the revelation.

  Scrutinising her, Joseph said, “Tara I’m concerned about you. You haven’t been quite the same since you returned. You need to look after yourself. You’re working too late and probably not getting enough sleep by the looks of you”

  “I’m fine, honestly, thank you.”

  “Well. He mentioned that he had met you a couple of times, during your search for Mike.”

  Tara kept quiet, really not sure where the conversation was going.

  “You seem to have made quite an impression on him. It seems you represented our Company very well, even though you had left. He was very complimentary about your professionalism.”

  What the hell was he talking about? Tara was bewildered.

  “So much so, that he has requested he borrow you for a while.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He needs someone there who can sort out his Personnel department. Apparently he’s been having a bit of trouble with it, someone left suddenly and he could do with someone experienced.”

  She tried to maintain composure in front of Joseph, but she was suddenly livid.

  “Have a think about it Tara. Let me know as soon as you can will you? Take you time, obviously, and think it through, but I think you would enjoy it. Great opportunity to add to your skill set! Furthermore, it would certainly cement our relations with his Company. As you know, he does put a lot of work our way. It would do our profit line no harm at all to see an increase in business from him.”

  Tara rose without speaking further. She returned to her desk, her hands shaking. What the hell was he thinking? Wh
y would he play with her like this? Damien didn’t need her there at his office. She knew full well he had more than enough highly competent personnel, far more experienced than her; She had met them.

  She had badly read Damien’s character. She knew he was cold and heartless, but this was a new low. Really, he thought he could find another use for her now he no longer wanted her in his bed? What the hell was wrong with him?

  His dominance in the bedroom was fine by her; she craved and adored that side of him, but to orchestrate her entire life like this was unforgivable, and incomprehensible. He didn’t need her there, and she did not understand why he would do this to her. He was not asking her back to his bed. There was no indication anything personal was involved in this request.

  It made no sense at all; and he was not going to do this to her. Oh, she would go there, that was certain, but it would be to slap his damn face and tell him what the hell she thought of him. Whilst it was a long way to go to do that, she didn’t care that she would have to fly halfway across the world to do it. She had had enough. And he was not going to get away with it.

  That night at home, her mind whirled at the arrogance of him. He had to be the cruellest, coldest, most emotionally detached person she had ever had the misfortune to meet, but she knew something about him, and though he killed Chambers to protect her, it was a dangerous secret to know, one that held enormous power and that could do him a lot of damage. It felt positively Shakespearean, but in the wildness of her imagination, she pictured vengeance as a sweet victory, holding a hidden upper hand that she would not hesitate to use. She clung to it as though the only way to maintain her dignity now as she prepared to confront him.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  That Friday morning, Tara boarded the early plane from Heathrow to Dulles.

  She had asked Joseph for a long weekend off and he had agreed, hoping she would give him her consent to go and work for Damien’s company on her return on Monday. Tara had no intention of doing that however.

  As the plane took off, she smiled, anger lurking dangerously inside her.

  On the flight she read a book. She would be in D.C by late afternoon.

  Damien waited for a call from Joseph. If she came to D.C., he could safeguard them both from the possibility of prison. He hadn’t called her himself. He would explain to her in person. He knew his phone would now be monitored and he didn’t want the detectives to know about his close personal relationship with Tara. It would only add to their suspicion and he did not want them discovering the motive behind the actions he had taken resulting in Chambers death.

  Using her job and his business relationship with the company she worked for as a cover, he would explain the situation to her when she arrived. He could not risk doing so by phone or email now.

  At the same time, returning her opened up a whole new level of anxiety. He needed to keep her close, and that inevitably would lead to the resumption of their affair. He knew once he saw her he would not be able to keep his hands off her. Of that he had no doubt. She had haunted his lonely nights relentlessly and the beguilement he felt for her had not receded as the days had passed. But he needed to guard himself from her, to keep her at a distance emotionally. He could not let his defences down. He could not let her catch him again in his grief and pain.

  He would protect her until he had no breath left in his body, but he could not let her into his soul, could not let her see the guilt he would carry with him for the rest of his life. She could not take away his pain and suffering. He deserved to have that.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Landing at Dulles airport, she changed in the bathrooms into a short cream dress and high heels, before taking a cab into D.C. She wanted to look the best she could when she confronted Damien, if only to show him what he had discarded.

  As the cab pulled up outside his office, her nerves began to get the better of her. She hoped he was there and yet she was dreading the next few moments, knowing that she would have to leave straight afterwards, and never see him again.

  Going up in the elevator she tried to rehearse what she was going to say to him, what she had run through in her mind so many times on the flight over.

  Walking into the open plan office, she asked one of the men if Damien was in.

  He replied that he was in his office, and indicated the direction of it with his hand.

  She walked straight ahead purposefully, trying to ignore the eyes on her.

  Without knocking, she opened his door. The look of shock on his face was priceless.

  “Tara! Joseph didn’t tell me you were coming today?”

  He stood, coming toward her automatically.

  “Joseph does not control my life Damien, and nor do you.”

  As he reached her, she raised her hand and slapped him as hard as she could across the face.

  She went to do it again, but he grabbed her arm. She raised the other hand to him but he was too quick.

  “You’re the most cold-hearted bastard I’ve ever had the misfortune to know. I need you to know that I hate you. Absolutely hate you. And I will not be played with. Now let go of my fucking hands!”

  She was furious that his strength naturally overpowered her. She wanted to slap him again. She had flown across the Atlantic just to do so.

  “Stop,” he told her.

  “No; I won’t stop. I’m not done with you. Who the hell do you think you are? I don’t care how much money you have; you don’t get to arrange my life for me; and I will not come and work at your bloody office. How dare you consign me to your hired help! You have some nerve, you really do.”

  She was red in the face with anger. He was taken aback, although not surprised by her outburst. He knew she had a hell of a temper already.

  “If you would just control yourself long enough for me to talk without having to restrain you, I think you’ll find I can explain.”

  “Sure you can. You’re twisted. That’s all you need to say. You like hurting people. It’s that simple.”

  His hands were still gripping her. He couldn’t let her go. She hadn’t calmed down at all. She was twisting them in his grip, trying to free herself; his calmness seeming to provoke her even further.

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I think I do!”

  “You seem to find it impossible not to talk.”

  His temper was rising.

  Keeping hold of her wrists with one hand, he unbuckled his belt and pulled it swiftly from his waist. Going to his desk drawer, dragging her with him, he pulled out a knife; a multi-purpose one very much like a Swiss army knife. Flicking it open she gasped in horror as he held it.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This is for the belt,” he told her, “not you.”

  She didn’t understand what he meant.

  He pushed her forward suddenly, over the desk. With his weight pinning her down he placed the belt around her mouth, bringing it together at the back of her head, using the knife to cut a new small hole to secure the buckle.

  She kicked out against his legs, reached up to push the belt away from her mouth but he grabbed her hands again.

  He took hold of her wrists with one hand as he reached into the drawer and pulled out a pair of plastic ties, of the type he used on those he captured overseas. Securing them quickly around her hands, he hoped it would stop her struggling and keep her still for a while. He knew it wasn’t hurting her; it may be a little uncomfortable, but it was the only way to shut her up and keep her still long enough to get his point over to her.

  Bound and gagged, she looked extremely appealing to the most animal of urges that had started running through him at the sight of her, but he hadn’t done it for that reason.

  “Now. I can talk without your constant interruptions. I need you to listen very carefully. The police came to my office two days ago, asking about the disappearance of Mark Chambers.”

  Despite the uncomfortable position she was in, her eyes widened in concern.

&n
bsp; “I guess they are asking all his known associates, and given my membership of the Club, that would include me. It’s very possible that they have re-traced his last movements, and given how well known he was in D.C., many people in that coffee shop could have known or recognised him, because of the location that it was in. He would also have been seen with you at the Club, on two occasions. There’s also a small matter of me shooting one of his hired mercenaries who Chambers had sent to kill me.”

  She had not known about this last part.

  “I only shot him in the leg, but now he’s free to talk. I can’t see him having any loyalty to a dead boss; that type would have allegiance only to money or the threat of prison. If the cops find out about him, he’ll talk just to evade any charges hanging over him, and the profession he is in, he won’t have a clean record. The police will lean on him.”

  He paused, considering how to tell her the rest.

  “I don’t know if you are aware, but the U.S. has an extradition treaty with the U.K. Whilst the evidence would be circumstantial at best; they won’t find Chambers body, but they can still charge people with murder without a body. The police would have come to you in London. You have no experience of interrogation techniques do you? Just one wrong word Tara and you will send me to jail for a life sentence.”

  As he said it, he couldn’t have looked more menacing, and she saw him for the fearsome man he could be. Instantly she thought of her plan to drop him in it. He would make a terrifying enemy. She feared he could even read her thoughts and a chill ran through her.

  He leaned close to her face, his eyes locked on hers,

  “The point I would like you to understand is that you must be very careful to ensure that you do not talk in any detail at all to the detectives. If you show any hint of knowledge of this crime; if you implicate me in any way, or yourself, they will charge you for covering up a murder. You will be charged as an accessory to murder.”