Run to You

by Lynne King

  Jack didn’t like what he was hearing. He always felt Linda quite capable of taking care of herself and this was the first time she had sought his help. Blackmail wasn’t something she wanted any involvement in and yet she had been forced to participate. The client had been a regular of hers for about a year. She didn’t know his real name and he always paid by cash. He was in his mid-twenties and from what he let slip, was engaged. What his fiancée couldn’t provide, Linda could, which included certain fetishes. The last time he visited, O’Riley was in the next room and had set up recording equipment to get the whole session on film. Linda had no choice; O’Riley had made that quite clear.

  He picked up the bottle of wine and poured himself a small measure. “You’ve got to stop him coming here, Linda. He’s got what he wanted. Don’t let him up next time.”

  She shook her head and downed her wine in one gulp. “Don’t you think I would have done that by now if it was that easy?” Her voice wavered. “Jack, you don’t say no to the guy. I wait until he tires of me and pity the poor cow he moves on to next.”

  Jack’s thoughts turned to the woman with the flame-colored hair. Whatever connection there was between O’Riley and her, he felt sure she was going to end up another victim in this. What troubled him more was that he couldn’t stop thinking about her and not in the professional sense.

  Her hand went up and touched his jawline, her body moving up close to him. “I’m scared, Jack, more scared than I’ve ever been. Something big is going down and he’s got me being a part of it. He’s going to come after me when it’s all over. I know he is.” Her fingers started moving over his mouth whilst her other hand started caressing him through his jeans.

  “Stay with me tonight, please. It was good with us once. It can be again. Please, Jack.”

  Lorraine Johnson glanced over at her husband. His mouth was partly open and he was emitting a sound similar to a fog horn. It was times like this she felt like putting a pillow over his head and ending it there and then. Patience, that was what she needed, but it was wearing pretty thin. She was tired of all this waiting and sneaking around. Less than two hours ago, she was in a New Jersey apartment, laying next to a man who was everything and more her husband wasn’t. Four months of having an Italian stud like Sonny Valachi make love to her and do things with her that had her begging and crying for more meant she would do anything he asked. The thought of being apart from him or that he should lose interest in her was worth her marriage and more.

  “Tomorrow you get on a flight to England and don’t come back till I tell you so, understand.”

  “I can’t just up and leave, my job, my husband, well not him so much, but what can I tell him,” she had said while watching his tongue glide down to her belly button.

  His dark eyes glanced up at her. “Tell them anything. Your mother’s sick and needs you right away. Just make it sound convincing.” His tongue traveled further down.

  She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes, the tremors starting to flow. Was there no end to what pleasures he could put her body through? The untimely sound of his cell phone had his head coming away from between her legs. Jumping off her and striding over to where his jacket lay over a chair, he retrieved his phone. Lorraine watched as his bare butt faced her.

  “Yeah, this line’s safe. The feds have bigger fish to fry, which going by my source will be any day now. This mick you’ve sent me, you sure he can be trusted?”

  Lorraine couldn’t hear what the person on the other end was saying, but she knew who Sonny was talking about, Shaun O’Riley.

  “He’s Mahonney’s nephew or cousin or whatever. If this in any way comes back to me, we’re all done for. Mahonney better understand what’s at stake here.”

  He was silent for a moment and started pacing the room as if what he was listening to wasn’t pleasing him.

  “Your boss has sent me some psycho. I don’t care if he’s an expert on explosives and assassinations. This better not turn into a shit massacre.” She couldn’t tell what his facial expression was, but his tone was angry.

  “Yeah, my cop friend keeps me informed but if the heat becomes too much, outside forces are brought in and we don’t want that.” He paused and looked over at the bed. “The girl will be taken care of, collateral damage that will throw the scent off and stop them looking for anyone else.”

  Lorraine’s body became icy cold. She pulled the satin sheet up to under her chin and laid back not wanting to listen anymore.

  Sonny finished his call and went into the bathroom. When he came out, Lorraine was sitting up in bed, smoking and with the sheet tucked firmly under her armpits.

  “What did you mean by collateral damage? Sonny, she won’t be hurt, will she? I mean he won’t do anything to her after she’s done what he’s asked?” She thought about O’Riley’s voice on the phone earlier that day. Pure malice radiated from it and she couldn’t help thinking when all this was over, he might not want to risk leaving someone around who could identify him. She didn’t worry about her own discovery because the Irishman didn’t know anything about her and she had disguised her voice on the phone.

  He took the cigarette from her fingers and took a deep draw on it before stubbing it out in the ashtray. “What you worried about her for? She was your suggestion in the first place.”

  “Because if I did it like you wanted in the first place, how long do you think it would have taken the cops to work out it was me?”

  He smiled. “Exactly, so we will have your little friend to thank for keeping this cute ass free.” Snatching the sheet from her, he rolled her over and straddled her from behind.

  Chapter Seven

  Hurrying up the stairs to her apartment, Liz felt her week couldn’t get any worse. She was even toying with the idea of returning to England. Michael and Eve had been great but he was still her boss and she had to respect that. Her first couple of weeks in New York would have been pretty harrowing if Lorraine hadn’t been here to make her feel welcome. The weeks that followed proved what a valuable confident Lorraine was. Hearing that Lorraine had called in that morning asking for compassionate leave on account of a family crisis back home in England had left her feeling even more alone. Her foolish unsophisticated attempt at casual sex had proved disastrous. Perhaps she would e-mail her sister tonight or even ring her—a friendly voice was what she needed the most to hear.

  Still thinking these thoughts, she unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped in. A cold chill shot up her spine. There was someone in her apartment. She could feel him. That familiar brand of tobacco assaulted her senses. Fumbling for the light switch, a shadow loomed up out of the darkness. The scream caught in her throat as the light flicked on revealing Shaun.

  “What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?” She sought reassurance that he wasn’t here to do her harm.

  “We need to talk, Liz. Come in and shut the door. I’m not going to hurt you, but if you run or scream, then things will get pretty bad for you.”

  She couldn’t move—her body remained fixed in the doorway, her thoughts racing. He had to reach out and pull her in. Kicking the door shut behind her, he pushed her limp body back onto her sofa.

  “Tomorrow at precisely 1:00 p.m., you are to go into your boss’s office and flick off the security switch override. If it remains on, then an alarm will go straight to the cops when the monitor room is interfered with. I know there is one. It also activates emergency back-up cameras at the same times.”

  Liz sat there, his words—so matter of fact. It was as if he was discussing some small –favor, an errand. Any minute now he was going to burst out laughing, claim it was his sick sense of humor and she would shout at him to get out, that she didn’t find it funny.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying? Make sure you are not seen and then go to lunch as usual. Anderson, your boss, will be making his way to see a Mister Costanzo. Your part is simple and no one will suspect you as long as you keep your mouth shut and act normal.”
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  This was no joke. The full reality of what she was being told to do overtook her fear. Standing up, her hand struck Shaun across the face. “Bastard,” she let out between clenched teeth.

  He stepped back, his hand coming up to touch his cheekbone. “Wow, that was some slap and I guess it was deserved, but before you get too carried away, I’m just the messenger.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, his fingers pulled out two digital photos and handed them to her.

  Liz stared first at one photo and then the second one. Both represented the people she most loved and valued in the world. One had her sister and six-year-old niece smiling gleefully into the camera and the other one had Michael and Eve Anderson with their two children just leaving their Manhattan apartment block. Tears started welling up, blurring her vision, the palpitations in her chest causing her breath to shorten.

  “No one is inaccessible, not your sister and her child in England and not your boss and family here in Manhattan. You do this one small thing and they are spared the trauma of heartache and loss because I am simply a small part of a much bigger picture.”

  “What do you mean?” she stammered.

  “Your parents were killed in a car crash six years ago leaving you and your eldest sister who runs a guest house in England with her husband. They have one child named Emma. Michael and Eve Anderson helped you a great deal when your parents died and recently when your fiancé cheated on you. A very generous boss, so I’ve heard.”

  “Stop it,” Liz screamed at him.

  He rushed forward and placed a hand over her mouth and pushed her against the wall. “Now listen carefully. No screaming or hysterics—understand. I don’t want to hurt you, Liz. It would have been much easier if you’d been willing to spread your legs and do anything I asked. Some women are like that, you know. They fall for my charm and simply want to please. Unfortunately you’re different. If I remove my hand, are you going to be good?”

  She stared back at him unable to comprehend what was happening. Dumbly, Liz nodded. A brief smile appeared and he removed his hand. Her body was shaking so much she slid down the wall and brought her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around them.

  “They will know it was me who interfered with the camera. No one else has access to his office.” Liz didn’t recognize her own voice. It sounded detached.

  “They might suspect, but it can’t be proved and a more likely candidate will be put forward to take the heat off you.” He knelt down and cupped her face in his hands.

  “No one will get hurt if you do what I say. We’re going just for the safety deposit vault. Greedy bastards’ money and valuables, most of it gained by criminal means. If there was another way, believe me, I would take it. I won’t be the one making your sister and Eve Anderson widows. You tell the police and I will end up dead along with them and you won’t know who pulled the trigger.”

  “Why me?” she forced out.

  “I can’t answer that. These people do their homework. You’re new to New York, you have no family here and no one to confide in, and you have access to what they want. In other words, you fit their requirements.”

  That night she lay awake staring up at a dark spot on the ceiling. In her imagination the spot was grower bigger and bigger, spreading like a cancerous growth. How the hell could this be happening to her?

  She rose from her bed, her body covered from neck to toe in leggings and a long T-shirt. Not her usual bedtime attire but the only item of clothing that hopefully diminished any thoughts of desire from the opposite sex. Standing in the kitchen annex, cradling a cup of coffee, she watched such a person and the cause of her nightmares sleeping soundly on the sofa. At least he wasn’t so much of a monster that he had slept in her bed or forced himself on her. He hadn’t taken her cell phone from her or locked her in and yet she had made no attempt to flee or ring for help. The photos alone were enough and then he had displayed the gold heart locket around his neck. She would have recognized it anywhere, seeing it used to be worn by her mother and had been passed down to her niece. He had achieved his objective—she would do anything he asked of her because she had no one to run to who could protect those she loved.

  At first light she was showered and dressed. Seated at her breakfast bar, she stared blindly at the countertop while her thoughts underwent raging battles of conscience and fear.

  “I could murder for bacon and eggs. What you got in that fridge, anything to satisfy one craving at least?”

  Liz didn’t look up. “Help yourself. After today I doubt it will be much use to me, seeing I will be in a prison cell.”

  He leaned across the top and gripped her chin, forcing her face up. “You look like shit. Get a grip. Now I’m going to cook us breakfast and you are going to eat it. Then you will walk out of here and go to work and put on one hell of an act, not for yourself, but for the lives of those who mean so much to you.”

  Her gaze met his hoping the venom she was feeling transmitted itself clearly. It obviously did because for a moment he actually looked disappointed, sad almost, his words accentuating it. “I wish it could have been different, believe me.” His lips brushed hers gently. Releasing her face, he stepped back. “Food, before I become an even bigger bastard and decide to satisfy my other craving, willing or not.”

  As usual Michael Anderson was already in his office when she sat down behind her desk. Julie breezed in ten minutes later and perched herself on the edge of Liz’s desk.

  “Another stifling day out there. Days like this and I’m actually quite happy to be in an air-conditioned building. Anyway, how’s Lorraine? Did you manage to speak to her last night?”

  Liz couldn’t look up for fear her face would betray her. “No, the time difference and all that. I thought I’ll try her over the weekend.”

  “You okay, Liz?”

  “Yes, fine.” She stood up abruptly. “I forgot Michael’s coffee.” Going over to the coffee machine, she could feel Julie’s gaze following her. Shaun had warned her that if she messed up or suspicion fell upon her, the threats would be carried out still. It would be seen as a betrayal. Taking a deep breath she turned to face Julie. “I’m sorry, really lousy night. One of the neighbors plays her music so loud and the walls are paper thin.”

  “You should get out of that place.”

  “Yeah, I plan to.” She forced out a smile.

  Knocking on the door before she entered, her concentration lay on keeping her hand still holding the coffee. The dread increased with every footstep across the carpeted floor. Would Michael be able to tell from the look on her face the guilt she was going through?

  “Morning, Liz,” he said as she placed the coffee on his desk.

  Her gaze remained lowered. She could almost taste the disgust building up inside at what she was about to be party to. Michael was not simply her boss. He and his wife had helped her when she had needed it the most and here she was about to betray that trust in the worst way imaginable. Would he ever understand and forgive her—not that she could ever forgive herself.

  “Liz, is there something on your mind?” His warm concerned gaze met hers, a hand coming up to sweep through his silvery hair.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Liz spluttered. “I was miles away, restless night.” She forced out another smile. “Do you want me to type this?” Her fingers touched the hand-written report lying on his desk.

  “Yes, there’s no urgency though. You sure there’s nothing troubling you. How’s that apartment or your neighbors, more to the point?”

  Now was the time to tell him. Michael, they’ve threatened to kill you and Pete, my sister’s husband. No, I don’t know whom. What if it was a bluff? Could she take that risk and live with herself if they died as a result of her wanting to safeguard her own neck?

  “The apartment is fine, Michael. Unfortunately the neighbor is a bit of a problem, but I’ll sort it out. Thanks anyway.” Picking up the report, Liz left the office.

  For the rest of the morning, nothing seemed to be going righ
t. Her keyboard skills were appalling due to the fact she was constantly glancing at the time. At one point Michael nearly forgot about his lunchtime appointment until Liz reminded him. She was sure Julie was regarding her with suspicion or was it her imagination? Was she becoming paranoid thinking everyone including the mail boy was giving her curious looks? What if Julie didn’t go to lunch—Shaun would never believe it. He would think she had stopped her from going.

  By the time 12:50 p.m. had arrived, her nerves were at crisis point, only by now the offices were empty. A call came through for Mister Anderson; a Mister Costanzo was in the bank’s foyer. Liz’s heart sank. It was really going to happen. She was about to become an accomplice in a bank heist.

  Michael came out of his office. “Isn’t it time you went to lunch, Liz, or are you having a later one?”

  “No, I’m about to go. Julie should be back soon.” She stood up and made out she was getting ready to leave.

  As soon as he was gone, Liz looked up and down the corridor. It was clear. Entering Michael’s office, she walked behind his desk to the framed print of New York’s skyline. Using a man’s cotton handkerchief to cover her fingers and hand, she slid the print to one side. The switch was where Shaun had said it would be. Two seconds was all it took. She felt sick, her whole body trembling as she covered the flashing red light by sliding the print back. Placing the handkerchief into her pocket, Liz headed out of the office making sure to shut the door behind her. Snatching up her handbag, she passed through the outer offices rather than the side corridor so she could be seen leaving the building.

  Once outside, Liz kept walking and taking deep breaths at the same time. She had noticed no one suspicious in the bank’s foyer or by the tellers’ desks. Perhaps they had changed their minds. Not able to face seeing anyone from the bank, she finally entered a coffee shop several blocks away.