by Shea Swain
She looked down at herself then raised her brows, no doubt figuring what he was about to say. “I’ve looked better, but thanks I guess. Thank you. The clothes are a little big, but… yeah, thanks.”
“Are you hungry?” Ian asked as he placed the slightly bent drink cup he still held in his hand on the table. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a few things.” He pulled a chair away from the table to give her some space. He didn’t know how she felt about what he’d done to her, but he definitely didn’t want her to be scared of him. Before he sat in the chair that he’d moved away from the table, he placed two bottles of pain reliever within her reach. He used his lap as a table for his food and the nightstand to hold his drink.
They ate in silence, although she looked over at him several times as if she wanted to say something. After she finished her food and cleaned up her mess, she looked at him again. “Golden Boy is what they called you...but I heard them call you Ian, too. Ian is your name, right?”
He sat up in the chair and said, “It’s Ian Howl.”
“Ian Howl,” she repeated. It was almost like she was trying it out, seeing how it rolled off her tongue and heaven help him, but he liked the way his name sounded on her lips. She began in a small voice, “You didn’t have to help me, but you did—”
Ian shook his head. Cutting her off, he said, “I hurt you, and I can’t tell you how very sorry I am. I just saw you lying there”—he paused, searching for the right words—“and even though I couldn’t see your eyes, you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. And you were for me…” He shook his head again, knowing that that wasn’t what he should have said. “What we did to you was wrong and—”
“It was just sex.” She cut him off this time with her words and the loud thud her fists made when she slammed them on the table. Her voice was strained and her hands shook as she flattened them over the wobbly surface. “It was just sex, that’s all,” she whispered.
Ian stared at her for a long moment, but said nothing about her downplaying what happened. He’d had a few drinks last night, not enough to shut him down, but the alcohol combined with his carefree mood and his high from celebrating had led to poor choices.
The fact that he had engaged in sex with a woman who was clearly more out of it than he was had been testament to that. He hadn’t orchestrated the situation, but he had participated even when he felt that something might be wrong. He’d allowed himself to accept the given explanation for her condition. She’d been raped, and everyone involved needed to pay for it, including him.
Ian knew that she was in shock last night and he should have driven her straight to the hospital, but again he’d allowed his emotions to decide for him, which was odd because he had never been one to base his decisions on emotions. It almost seemed that when it came to the woman in front of him, his brain shut down and his basest of instincts were in control.
Once he’d heard her tortured voice demanding no cops or hospital involvement, he felt he had no other choice but to do as she asked, even when that meant going against the logical course of action. Why she wasn’t crying bloody murder then as well as now was an even bigger mystery, but he wouldn’t deny his role if it came to that.
Exhaling, she spoke again, and Ian couldn’t help noticing how she never glanced at him when he was looking at her, even when she was speaking. “My dad always says that fair exchange is no robbery. Getting me out of there…” she paused, as if contemplating her next words, “…yeah, so I’m going to help you. The guy in charge, Sal, he said some things you should know about. He tampered with the condom he gave you, so that your DNA would be in me when I was found.”
“Found?” Ian asked with a perplexed look on his face.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. Ian knew that she was probably reliving what happened to her last night. After blowing out a loud breath she seemed to strengthen with a resolve he admired, as if she had forced the thoughts of her ordeal away. Her voice was stronger when she spoke. “His plan was to kill me, and once my body was discovered, the medical examiner would have found no other semen inside me but yours. They…they… all ejaculated on me and I was wiped clean throughout the night. Well, everywhere but—”
Ian’s face darkened. He’d figured they’d raped her, but to know it now for certain was like a blow to his very core. Rape was horribly wrong, let alone brutally raping a virgin. The more he thought about it the more his anger rose. He wanted them to suffer as she did.
“They were going to kill me and frame you for it.”
Ian just stared at her for several seconds, contemplating her statement. She’s been through something very traumatic, and she’d been drugged.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She interrupted his train of thought. “I know what I heard. You can do what you want with that information.” She stood and walked to the other side of the room, mumbling to herself as she watched him through narrowed eyes. She kneeled on the bed and reached for the rotary phone on the nightstand. He watched her as she picked up the phone to place a call. Then her face scrunched up like she’d eaten a lemon and she hung the phone up with a curse.
“You were drugged. It’s possible you were hallucinating,” Ian wasn’t sure what had happened with the phone just then, but he wanted to get back to the craziness of her previous statements.
She looked at him blankly for a few seconds, then blinked and chuckled dryly. “Hallucinating? I suppose I was hallucinating the entire night,” she said. She wasn’t yelling, but her tone was so even and lifeless, he would have preferred to hear her shouting. “Get on with it, Golden Boy.” She’d made an attempt to mimicked Sal’s husky accent. “You remember that? How about ‘it feels so damn good when you come all over me,’ or ‘Sorry, beautiful, I got you all messy’.”
Her words sent chills down Ian’s spine. She remembered what he’d said word for word. Ian looked away, not able to stand the way her accusing eyes bore into him. Uncomfortable with her probing look, he rubbed his hand over his head. Was it so farfetched that Sal would do something like this? The man had no qualms about gang-raping a virgin. But why set him up...could he believe that?
“Did he say why?”
She shook her head. “Just that some guy named Vincent ordered it.”
Ian didn’t think he’d heard her right—“Vincent…my uncle, Vincent?”
“Uncle,” she said incredulously, “You’re related to those animals?” Her breathing picked up, coming out shallow and faster, as she backed away from the bed until she hit the far wall. Her eyes were wild again and she was shaking.
Sensing her approaching panic, Ian held his hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you, but you need to calm down.”
She shook her head, her wide eyes imploring. “Please don’t take me back to them.”
Ian slowly moved toward her. “You’re going to pass out if you don’t calm down,” he said in what he hoped was a calming voice “I’ll be forced to get you medical care,” he warned. Her gaze met his and she didn’t look away. Her breathing was still erratic, but her eyes were becoming focused and were no longer wild. “I got you out of there. I will not allow anyone to hurt you ever again. I promise,” he continued. As he spoke her breathing slowed. “What’s your name?”
“Aria,” she muttered. “You don’t believe me. Are you going to tell him where I am? He can’t know where I am.” Her voice had become high pitched. She looked to the door, then back at him.
Ian froze—he didn’t want to make any sudden moves that might frighten her.
“They’ll kill me.”
The pitiful way she said that tugged at his heart. “I’m not telling him anything, Aria.” Ian pulled his cell phone out and showed it to her. “I haven’t even talked to him, them. See…I cut it off.” That seemed to relax her a little. “And I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. I just don’t understand why my uncle would do what you’re saying.”
Ian watched her slide down the wall to the
floor. “I don’t know, either. I just know what I heard.” She seemed to look off into space, then she covered her face with her hands. “What if Gail told them where I live?”
“Who’s Gail?”
Aria let her hands settle in her lap. “She’s the one who brought me to the party, to them.”
Ian knew who “them” were. She meant him, Sal, and the others.
“We were friends. Yesterday was my eighteenth birthday, and she promised me a night to remember, a special surprise. Then she brought me to that place. They drugged me then I had trouble moving.” She looked down, then up at him. “It was a party for you?”
“I finally agreed to work for my uncle’s company. The party and entertainment were his gifts to me.”
“And I was one of those gifts, part of the entertainment.” Her voice cracked. A low whine that was barely audible came from her trembling lips.
His need to comfort her was overwhelming yet he didn’t move toward her. Instead, he walked over to the lone window in the dreary room. What was he to do? Tell her he wasn’t the insensitive prick that fucked a drugged woman that was presented to him as a gift? Tell her that that guy, that wasn’t the real him?
The facts—he was that prick, and there is nothing he could do about what happened then, but he can keep her safe now. Ian opened the flower print curtain and peered out over the parking lot at the car he’d stolen from his Uncle’s garage.
What was he going to do? She didn’t want the authorities involved, and that put a big wrench in his original plans to get her help and accept whatever punishment that came his way. Now what?
“I left my purse in Gail’s car. I have no money and I can’t go home looking like this. My parents will freak and want to know what happened to me, and honestly, right now I don’t have it in me to face them. Oh, and the phone doesn’t work in here.” She pointed to the ancient thing on the nightstand. “Can I use your cell phone?”
IAN TOOK ALL THE PERSONAL items he’d brought Aria from the store and packed them in the car, then went back to the room to give it a second look to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. Aria stood by the bed with her arms wrapped around her waist. She looked tired, a bit battered, and her eyes still had a haunted appearance to them but she looked much better than when he’d found her tied to that bed.
It had taken him too long to convince Aria to stick with him a little longer. Ian couldn’t fully explain to himself why he wanted that. Why she agreed to stay with him, he didn’t understand either. What he did know was that she was adamant that they do not report what happened. If he had to guess, he figured she was worried more about what would happen if her family and friends found out what had happened than she was scared of being with him.
During their conversation she’d been quiet for the most part, only speaking when she had something important to say. There had been no small talk. It was clear she wanted to know nothing personal about him; however he was very curious about her. Mainly, he wondered what she was like before this, before they had siphoned away all her joy.
“Are we forgetting anything?” Ian asked, only when she noticed him watching her.
Aria held his gaze for a moment, her face blank, then she slowly shook her head. He gave her plenty of room to walk by him, but the alluring scent that was all “her” floated around him as she moved out of the room. When he picked out the body wash on his shopping trip earlier, he’d chosen a scent he thought she would like. He was disappointed she hadn’t bathed with the body wash he’d purchased; instead she’d used the generic stuff in the bathroom. That bar of soap was small, hard, and scentless, but Ian couldn’t remember now what it was about the plain bar he didn’t like. A no-scent soap meant that Aria’s natural aroma would reign, and reign it did.
Still standing in the doorway, Ian closed his eyes and inhaled her lingering scent. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. Why was her smell so damn intoxicating and more importantly, how was it that he could still smell her as if she was standing beside him, instead of near the car? His reaction to Aria was in no way his usual manner toward women, and that worried him.
Ian closed the motel door, then joined her beside the car. He pressed the lock release button, pulled the door open for her to get inside, then went to the driver’s side and got in. Aria had told him that he was the target of a frame job and he needed to know why. Vincent was an accomplished man of science, first and foremost, but lately his uncle had been associating with some unsavory men. Ian didn’t know but Vincent Howl was no fool. His uncle wouldn’t surround himself with goons like Sal for fun. Something shady was definitely going on.
“Where are we going?”
Whatever the plan had been for Aria, Ian knew it had changed the moment he took her from the mansion. He needed to find out more about the plan and how it has changed. “This Gail is the one who got you in this mess and she has your purse, so we need to find her. But I have to make a call first.” He shifted into gear and the car moved forward. He briefly glanced in her direction, and a few questions formed in his mind that he desperately wanted to know but wouldn’t dare ask at the moment.
Who did she have home at waiting for her?
“Your family, your boyfriend, they’re most likely worried that you didn’t come home last night, so you should make a few calls when its safe, too. Tell them you’re staying with Gail, because I doubt she’ll call them.”
Aria stared out the window, but nodded, so he knew she’d heard him.
Fail. She’d totally ignored his probe about a boyfriend, which probably meant she had one. That bothered Ian. He clenched his jaw, feeling like an idiot. Aria most likely hated him, and with good reason. It was just that right now, for whatever reason, she was allowing him to help her, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be friends.
“Using my phone wouldn’t be smart.” Ian stopped at the sign then pulled into traffic. “It would take nothing for my uncle to trace the call and find out where we are and who we’re in contact with.”
The dense city streets were miles away from the posh neighborhood in which his uncle resided. Ian had traveled this particular stretch of road before but no one would ever expect him to be in this part of town. If they were searching for him they would most likely check his New Jersey loft apartment located near the university he had attended. His friends and his professors knew no more than what he allowed. He was taught at an early age to always be mindful of what you allow people to know and see. Ian kept his personal life personal. That meant that no one would look for him where he’d decided they were going.
He drove them to downtown Baltimore and pulled into a pay parking garage that had several levels. He parked on level two, close to the elevators.
“Come on,” he said, as he got out of the car. Aria hesitated, but got out with him. “We can’t drive in this anymore,” he told her, meeting her gaze over the top of the car. Before she could ask why, he pulled his cell out, placed the battery back, and turned it on. He said, “Call Vincent,” and the phone dialed. Her expression told him that she wanted to question him about the car, but she didn’t. Ian also noticed how she flinched when she heard him say Vincent’s name.
“Ian, where are you? Are you all right?” Vincent answered the line with a tone laced with worry.
Was it real concern, or an act? Ian had no idea since he’d never actually seen his uncle worried about anything. “I’m fine.” Ian said smoothly, as he continued to watch Aria over the top of the car. “I have Carissa with me, Uncle Vincent.”
“Carissa,” Vincent repeated the name. After a short pause, he said, “The call girl? I apologize for getting held up and missing the party but leaving the way you did last night, not telling anyone, and taking that girl, that’s unlike you Ian. I had to smooth things over with Jack Pinchon and it wasn’t easy. Of all the vehicles in the garage why’d you pick his car? And I was worried. I suppose you’ve finished with her now, so I’ll expect to see you in my office within the hour. We have things
to discuss concerning your employment.”
“It’s the weekend, Uncle, and I have plans with Carissa. I’ll be happy to discuss anything you’d like on Monday. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” Ian said with conviction, feeling his blood heating up.
“Of course,” Vincent said, without missing a beat. “Won’t you meet me for lunch; bring the girl along if you like. I’d like to meet the girl who has finally caught my nephew’s interest.”
“Thank you, and though I know Carissa will be heartsick about me declining your offer, I have to refuse. She fancies the beach and I promised her some sun and fun. I’ll see you Monday.” Aria said nothing as Ian spoke to his Uncle but she never looked away. Some part of Ian wished his story was on the up and up, that they were just on a mini vacation.
Vincent sighed. “Your father won’t like your choice for a weekend companion, Ian. It’s best if you forget—”
Ian disconnected the call. He dialed his father’s number, but again got no answer. A glance told him that all the messages left on his cell were from his uncle, so his father hadn’t returned any of his calls. It would be a month before his father returned from some political tour of the world, which was unfortunate because reaching him when he was off being Senator Howl was almost impossible. In truth, reaching his father had never been easy.
Ian closed the car door then walked around to the trunk. Opening it, he took a dark blue hoodie from a shopping bag and pulled it over his head, then reached back in for his sunglasses and put them on. He tossed the car keys and his cell into the trunk, grabbed the new backpack and placed everything he bought from his earlier shopping trip inside, then closed it. Ian took Aria by the hand and pulled her toward the elevators.
“What just happened?” Aria panted, after walking through several rows of vehicles. She had to walk fast to keep up with the pace he’d set but he couldn’t slow down.
Ian pushed the button for the floor he desired as they stepped inside the elevator. “My uncle doesn’t know who you are yet. I’m pretty sure he still thinks you’re a prostitute, which means he hasn’t gotten to your friend. At least I think he hasn’t. I could tell he’s not sure what I know. I know he trusts Sal and probably has no idea that he discussed their plans in front of you.” The elevator chimed; alerting them they’d reached their floor. Ian ushered her out and pulled her to the bank located next door. “The car wasn’t mine, and my cell phone has a chip inside it, so I had to ditch them.” Her brows furrowed and he knew she was trying to understand. “I had to steal the car we drove from the mansion last night, and there’s a locator chip in the phone,” he said, but didn’t explain further.