Aiden didn’t want to listen to this, but his only hope of escape was tied to the lovebirds getting it on.
“What about him?” Kitty said, and Aiden didn’t need a map to figure out she was talking about him. “I don’t want him watching.”
“He’s not watchin’ anything,” Fats said. “C’mon, Kitty. I want you, baby. Come here. Come on, sweet thing. I’m going to do something really special for you.”
Throwing up now might be really inconvenient, Aiden thought.
“Okay,” Kitty said. “You wear a girl down.”
Aiden heard the sounds of passion-on-demand. Heavy breathing, smacking lips, forced keening from Kitty’s throat. Fabric rubbing together. He risked opening his eyes a crack again but immediately shut them. Yep, he still had good ears.
“Oh, baby,” Fats groaned. “These are really something. Did they have help, or did you grow them like this all on your lonesome?”
The next hefty slap needed no imagination.
“I don’t have to take that from anyone,” Kitty squeaked. “The nerve. Take a real good look and tell me if you see anything you don’t like.”
Fats was sucking air through his teeth. “You don’t have to get violent. You know I don’t see anything I don’t like. Oh, man, no wonder Ryan brought you back to the States with him. He wasn’t about to leave these behind.”
As a mere mortal, Aiden struggled with an urge to check out these wonders. He’d always been a man of highly developed self-control.
Something came loudly unsnapped and unzipped.
Kitty said, “Oh, that feels so good. Oh, yes, yes.”
“Don’t hold yourself back,” Fats said, “I’m all yours too, sweet thing. Let me make things easier for you.”
More unsnapping and unzipping followed.
“Oh, Fats,” Kitty moaned. “Oh, my.”
Fats laughed, “That’s what women always say. Surprised, huh? You didn’t expect this, did you?”
“Get back to what you were doing, dammit,” Kitty said. “Leaving a woman on the edge doesn’t make her give a damn what you’ve got in your pants.”
Aiden longed to put a pillow over his head. That way, if he did make a mistake and laugh out loud, he’d have a chance of not being heard.
“You asked for it,” Fats said. “You’ve got it.”
A series of female yelps followed, punctuated by shuddering wails of ecstasy. “Oh,” Kitty said in only seconds. “Oh, yes. Oh, yesss. Oh, oh, oh. Don’t stop. Faster. Harder. Yes, yes, yes.” Her voice rose to a thin shriek before it fell away into sobbing gasps.
“My turn,” said Fats, Mr. Smooth, Lemon. “You’ve got the best tits, Kitty. Sheesh, what muscle tone. They don’t even jiggle.”
“You made me sore,” Kitty said. “You’re too rough.”
“And you love it.” Fats’s voice changed and Aiden knew he was hearing a man who would do whatever it took to get what he wanted now. “Kneel down.”
“Like hell,” Kitty said.
“Do you like it when a man gets really rough?”
“Hit me again, and I’ll tell Ryan you tried to rape me.”
“Real soon you’ll be able to say I did rape you.”
Kitty’s giggle sickened Aiden. “Not here,” she said. “Not with him on the bed. Come on.”
Aiden felt them pass him on the way to the bathroom. Their voices became more muted. Apparently modesty had kicked in, and they’d pushed the door all but shut.
This would be the only chance he got, and this one was like a ticking bomb. Aiden watched the bathroom door. The action on the other side slammed the door all the way shut. If he didn’t know otherwise, he’d think a platoon of Rangers was practicing maneuvers in there.
He swung his feet from the bed and scooted to sit on the edge. He doubted he could stand up without falling down. A lot of older motels had old-fashioned phones with dials. Aiden thanked his good fortune that the one on the bedside table was Touch-Tone.
His hands were numb. The cuffs had cut his wrists. To get to the phone, he’d have to stand up.
“Fatsy! Fatsy!”
You go to it, Fatsy.
Aiden put weight on his legs and wanted to yell at the pain in his ankles where the second set of cuffs ground into bone.
“We gotta be quick,” Fats said loudly. “He’ll get back. If he finds us like this, he’ll kill us.”
Don’t hurry. Aiden managed to shuffle a few inches and bring himself near enough to bend forward and rest his forearms on the table. He felt faint.
“Sit on the loo,” Kitty said. “Oh, yes, I like playing horsey.”
Unbelievable, Aiden decided, but as long as they kept on having fun, regardless of the weird pictures they conjured in his mind, he was still alive and still had hope.
He got the receiver from the cradle and slid it into his left hand. Punching in numbers made sure he bled freely from his wrists.
Kitty screamed. “We’ve broken it. Fatsy, it’s come off!”
Aiden didn’t want to consider what they’d broken off. One by one he depressed his own cell-phone numbers. Ringing started, and he dropped his face into his right hand, pressing the receiver to his left ear.
Three rings. Please answer me, Olivia. All he wanted to do was give her something she could pass along to Vanni. The name of this place would be better than nothing.
Four rings.
Answer me, Olivia.
“The party you’re trying to reach is unavailable. At the tone, please leave a message.”
A stab of pain burned through his right wrist. Where was she? On foot? In trouble?
He hit redial.
Four rings, then, “The party you’re—“ and Aiden depressed the cradle.
“Get it together, baby,” Fats said. “No, leave that for last. I gotta make sure I can see ’em in my sleep.”
He had to get himself back on the bed.
Using both hands on the receiver again, he rotated it and lined it up with the base before gently setting it down. Gritting his teeth against pain, he resumed his position on the bed and was grateful to be still and close his eyes.
Hopelessness wasn’t a luxury a police officer allowed himself, but he sure couldn’t see any way out of this now. Not a chance without a miracle.
The handle on the door to the room shook. He hadn’t heard the key turn in the lock but it must have because the edge of the door rattled against the chain.
“Shit,” Aiden heard Kitty say distinctly. “Hurry up.”
“Damn it,” Fats sounded ready to cry, “Oh, baby.”
“Baby and Fats are going to be dead if we don’t move it,” Kitty said.
Aiden managed to make himself sink into a more deeply relaxed state.
The chain was in danger of being yanked from the wall. “Open this,” Ryan said. “Now. Open the goddamn door.”
Kitty and Fats erupted from the bathroom. Aiden could hear their labored breathing. “He won’t know, will he?” Kitty whispered.
“You’d better hope not,” Fats told her. “Comin’, Ryan.” Fats fumbled the chain off, and from the thud that followed and the man’s cry, Aiden visualized Ryan smashing the door into his partner and knocking him down.
“What’s the chain for, you cretin?” Ryan said. “And don’t tell me you’re making sure Flynn doesn’t go anywhere. He looks like he’s dying to me. You two were screwing, weren’t you?”
“No, Ryan,” Kitty said. “I was frightened someone else might come, so I asked Fats to put on the chain. I don’t know what to expect next.”
“Really?” Ryan’s footsteps were heavy. The sound of fabric tearing followed. “Just helping you out, baby. That shirt was buttoned all wrong. And will you look at that? I must be losing it. Last time I was in there I could have sworn you were wearing a bra. Remember that, babe? When we stopped for Fats to take a leak, and you and I waited in the truck?” Silence reigned.
Then Kitty gasped.
“You don’t like being pinched?” Ryan asked. �
�I kinda wondered how sensitive plastic ones were.”
“Watch your mouth,” Kitty said. “They’re very sensitive.”
“I’ll have to run more tests,” Ryan said. “Any calls from that husband of yours and his partner?”
“No.”
“Time to call them. They’re inconveniencing me. People who inconvenience me make me vindictive.”
“I don’t want to call them,” Kitty said.
“I didn’t ask what you wanted. Did you hear me ask what Kitty wanted, Fats?”
“I sure didn’t, Ryan. She must have imagined it.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “Just like you’re imagining I’m blind. Did you enjoy fucking Kitty, Fats?”
“Kitty?” Fats asked, sounding stupid.
“Yeah. Kitty. You feeling good now? Ready for a long, warm sleep? Too bad there won’t be time for the sleep, but I’m a reasonable man. I insist you get a good fuck in. Frustration isn’t good for a man. I’d never ask that of you. Go on, get it done. Don’t mind me.”
Aiden had detested Ryan from the day they’d met. He’d thought Ryan crude then, and by now he knew the man had a filthy mouth and a mind to go with it.
“You’re all wrong about this,” Fats said. “Isn’t he, Kitty?”
“All wrong,” Kitty said, and laughed. “You wouldn’t want to watch us doing it, Ryan. You’d hate that. Anyway, it’s sick. We’ve got plenty of other stuff to think about.”
Kitty cried out.
“Don’t hit her,” Fats said. “She’s not worth the effort, Ryan.”
“Shut up,” Ryan said. “Bitch. Leave the shirt the way it is. You like showing your tits off, and Fats is going to need something to hold on to. Ever seen any good snuff?”
Fats said, “You’re making too much out of this.”
“Great stuff,” Ryan said. “Best sex you’ll ever see. I’ve got a new disk with me. If I watch it later, I may let you see, too. In the meantime, I’ll be the director and you two get to be the actors. Sometimes the women don’t really die. Sometimes they do.”
“How’d it go with the dog?” Fats asked quietly, sounding shaken.
“It went. Took too long, but it’s gone.”
Aiden made sure his face didn’t move but he felt tears in his eyes.
“Unzip it, Fats. A good live show is exactly what I feel like.”
“Well, I don’t feel like it,” Kitty said.
“But you love putting on a show,” Ryan told her. “That’s what you do best. Have you shown Fats how you can—”
A cell phone rang.
Ryan said, “Shit, that had better be the call we’re waiting for. You’re on, Kitty.”
Kitty said, “Hello,” and her voice was shaky. She didn’t say anything else for some time.
“Hey,” Ryan whispered. “Tell ’em to hold on, and give me a rundown.”
“Just a minute, Rupert,” she said, then to Ryan, “They’re at Bobby Mobo’s. They’re exhausted, they say. Kept getting lost. They’re going to get a room and sleep for a few hours. Then they’ll—”
“They’re coming here,” Ryan said. “Now. I know they said the FitzDurham woman fobbed ’em off with just a few photos and she kept the rest. I want to see what they’ve got. If Flynn decides to come out of his long winter’s nap, he’s going to help us get the rest. That woman’s got to be wandering around out there not knowing what to do next. She won’t go far at night, but come morning she’ll try to take off.
“Tell Fish where we are. Very specific instructions. Dangle the promise of a night’s sleep—with you. But you want to meet them in the café first. I’ll make sure you and Fats know exactly what to say, but I’ll be close enough to hear just in case something backfires. Tell them.”
“I don’t want to meet them.”
“And I don’t care what you want.”
Kitty sighed. “What about him? You can’t leave him here alone. I’ll stay and watch him.”
“As soon as you finish on the phone, I’m putting Flynn back in the truck and making sure he can’t move,” Ryan said. “Any other questions?”
Kitty said, “No,” and gave remarkably good directions to Fish and Moody. Then she brushed off their obvious complaints. “I’m looking forward to seeing you, Rupert,” she said at last. “I miss you, and I’ve been frightened. Well, anyone can get mixed up in something, then be out of their depth. We’ll work things out. See you soon. Bye.”
“Very good,” Ryan said when the call was finished. “Fats, make sure she doesn’t open her mouth about me. We’d lose our trump card if she did. Can you stop her?”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” Fats said.
“Why can’t we just kill them when they get here?” Kitty asked.
Devoted little wife, Aiden thought.
“Because they can be useful. We’re going to leave them holding the bag. We get their pictures and the ones FitzDurham has. Then we leave Fish and Moody with Flynn and the woman—and Flynn’s gun. Nice of him to bring it for us. Fish is the cold one. He’ll pull the trigger if he’s told to. Probably enjoy it. We’ll make sure someone finds out about it—when we’re far enough away to enjoy the headlines. Sweet, huh?”
“Yeah, sweet,” Fats said.
Nineteen
The battery in the Rover was deader than dead. Chris had worked over it, using the Harley battery, but there had been nothing. They were left with the bike and might as well make the best of it.
Chris did spare a thought for how difficult it would be to return the Harley to the Chicago friend who’d brought it to him at O’Hare. If he and Olivia were lucky enough to find Aiden alive, they’d never get to the airport with the three of them on the bike, not without being stopped by the police. It was a risk he wouldn’t take anyway.
He’d face that one later. “You’re sure that’s the same car?” he asked Olivia. He hadn’t moved the bike an inch yet, but she sat stiffly on the pillion seat, clutching her hat in both hands, and each time he looked back at her, there was no change in her petrified expression.
“Same car,” she said. “Rupert Fish and Winston Moody. They’ve been following us in it.”
The car, a big black Caddy, was parked at the motel office. One man had gone inside; another stood outside talking on a phone and showing signs of agitation. Finally he opened the passenger door and threw the phone inside. Then he went into the office and returned shortly with his companion.
Their voices carried clearly. “I’m not going anywhere now, Rupert,” the second man said. “That’s the trouble with you, you’re too easily pushed around. And by that dreadful wife of yours, too.”
“They always shout,” Olivia told him. “Really, they never stop shouting.”
“Just as well right now.”
“She’s with that Fats Lemon,” Mr. Fish said. “He’s dangerous, I tell you. Kitty sounded frightened. She said we had to come at once. I’ve got the directions.”
“You’re telling me we’ve got to go at once because that round-heeled sex addict is frightened? Don’t be absurd, Rupert. She won’t have any trouble finding someone to cuddle her.”
“Don’t,” Rupert said. “No, Winnie, just don’t say anymore. We’re leaving now. It’s not far. They were waiting for us to make contact.”
“How touching. Must be because they miss us. All right. Let’s go, but if they kill us, I shall blame you.”
Chris held his tongue on the subject of what he thought about idiots with the power to cause trouble. “Give me your hat or you’ll lose it,” he told Olivia, and stuffed it inside his jacket. “Hang on to me. Lean against my back. You’ll probably like the ride. My wife was a real skeptic, but she loves it now.” The Cadillac took off, and Chris didn’t give it much time before following. He drove along the access road and eventually turned onto the highway.
Olivia clung. She put her arms around Chris Talon’s wide back and clutched his jacket. He had plugged Aiden’s phone into a place on the motorcycle that was meant for it.
; Her legs felt boneless. Chris drove fast, and the wind and rain tore at them. Several times he patted her hands. Another nice man with a gruff exterior. She liked him, but then, making snap decisions about people was becoming a habit. She’d even managed to make the kind of snap decision that had allowed her to feel wonderful about sleeping with a man she scarcely knew. Naturally, she had moments of awkwardness when she thought about what they had done, but she was a good judge of character.
And she’d fallen in love with Aiden.
The wind blasted inside her too-big helmet, turned her ears icy and made them ache. She almost welcomed the discomfort because it pulled her attention from the outrageousness of what she’d begun to admit to herself. If this could all be cleared up, she’d return to London and resume her life… wouldn’t she? Trying to forget Aiden would be the hardest thing she’d ever done… if she had to do it.
He was a good, decent, absolutely stunning man and he’d taken risks for her. Look where he was now. He could die because of her.
How could there be so much air and wind around when she couldn’t seem to catch her breath?
Aiden Flynn would have put himself out there for anyone he thought was in danger and whom he believed he could help. No. Yes, he would do that, but although almost anyone would scoff at the way their intimacy had happened, she believed he felt something more than casual sexual attraction for her. He wasn’t that kind of man.
Wouldn’t that theory make a lot of people she knew laugh? And she wouldn’t be able to blame them.
He might already be dead. The tears in her eyes weren’t all the work of the wind.
Olivia wondered how far they’d ridden. She couldn’t see the road ahead, or wouldn’t. There was absolutely no question of her leaning one way or the other on the nasty bike in order to look.
Chris slowed down, and Olivia prayed that meant he was stopping.
He veered right, tipping at a terrifying angle, and they roared around a circular exit from the motorway. The exit kept turning and turning and Olivia closed her eyes.
The bike straightened.
A lighted green arrow flashed on and off, advertising the Sleep In Peace Motel. Chris passed the entrance, drove the motorcycle onto a verge, and stopped. He got off, kicked down a stand, and helped Olivia remove her helmet.
Glass Houses Page 25