Lucky Charm

by Valerie Douglas

  She didn’t hit one but someone nearby did, if only a small one. It was very funny. Lights were flashing as dials spun and bells rang.

  After a while, she switched to another machine, the people around her happily and patiently explaining how it worked. For a little while she played, winning some, mostly losing, chatting idly with the people around her. She discovered that all the drinks were free, which astounded her until she realized players had no reason to get up from the machine, except to eat or go to the bathroom. If she’d been a drinker, it also opened up the possibility she’d gamble unwisely once alcohol lowered her inhibitions. The casino would claim it was simple hospitality.

  Someone sat down next to her, put a few quarters in the machine and pushed the button.

  “So, pretty lady,” he said, “What’s your name?”

  Ariel glanced at the man from the corner of her eye. She’d gotten enough of a look at him to make her heart sink. Medium height, thin, silk shirt over too-tight slacks, with a gold chain around his neck. Attractive enough if you liked the lounge lizard lothario type. This she did not want. All she wanted was to have a little fun and be allowed to play in peace.

  Maybe if she kept her eyes on the machine he would go away. It was rude not to answer, though but she didn’t have to give details. Some disinterest should be enough.

  “Ariel.”

  “Ariel,” he said, relishing it, rolling it on his tongue.

  Restraining a wince, she tried not to roll her eyes.

  “My name’s Ray, Ariel. Where are you from?”

  She sighed. He wasn’t giving up. Or taking the hint. “Columbus, Ohio.”

  “That’s way up north of here,” he said, “so what brings a pretty lady like you all the way down to Nawlins?”

  “Work,” she said.

  Maybe if she kept to monosyllabic answers he’d go away.

  “Doesn’t look like you’re working to me,” he said observantly, “and it’s a Saturday night, time to have some fun and party a little. They got a great party bar here. Pretty lady like you shouldn’t be sitting alone. You’re not married, not engaged, you should be out living a little.”

  He wasn’t getting discouraged and he’d noticed she wasn’t wearing any rings.

  Ariel had thought once about wearing one for show but found she couldn’t bear the thought. It had been hard enough taking off the one that had been there and putting it in her jewelry box among all the other mementos of what was and what might have been. Seeing it there every time she’d opened the box had been a different kind of torment. She couldn’t bring herself to put another in its place. Especially not a meaningless one.

  Leaning on his machine, Ray draped an arm across the back of her chair, his thumb running up her back.

  Ariel shifted away from the unwelcome touch.

  “Go away,” Arial said, shortly.

  Sometimes that was enough. She didn’t want to have some fun and party a little. Translate that to ‘get you drunk and into bed’. She didn’t do one-night-stands.

  Her mind drifted to Matthew. Well, once. Her heart jumped a little at the memory.

  He’d been different, though, she didn’t think of what had happened with him that way. It hadn’t been shallow, meaningless sex, a rough exchange of bodily fluids that meant nothing to either of them. Without some degree of caring she couldn’t have done it. If he’d just groped her, she would’ve shoved him away quickly enough. He hadn’t. He hadn’t been grabby or pushy, his touch had been gentle, not demanding.

  Like the way he’d kissed her, with that soft brush of his tongue across her lips, just a touch, as if he asked permission. The thought of it sent a wave of warmth through her. He’d held himself back that morning and made the choice hers. Despite the arousal that had had his green eyes gleaming, he would’ve stopped any time she asked. As he’d stopped as soon as he realized where he was and who he was with. She was the one who had asked him to continue and then he had, making sure she thoroughly enjoyed it. A rush of heat rose up in her at the thought.

  Ray, or men like him, wouldn’t do that. She doubted Ray knew even the most basic ways to please a woman in bed. It was quantity for him.

  Oblivious, Ray said, “Come on, you don’t really mean that. A pretty lady like you should have someone pay attention to her, treat her right.”

  He rubbed his hand up her back.

  Pulling away from him, she leveled a look at him.

  “Don’t touch me. If you do it again I will scream for security. Go away is what I said and go away is what I meant.”

  “Frigid bitch,” he spat as he stalked away.

  Ariel wondered what he’d think if he knew she wished his accusation was true. If she were frigid and a bitch she wouldn’t care, but she did. When she loved or made love, she did it all the way, fiercely and passionately. If she hadn’t, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt so much. The loss and grief had been terrible. She’d never imagined anyone could feel so much pain. It would have been so much easier if she’d been frigid or a bitch. Then maybe it wouldn’t have torn her up so much. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t have hurt but that wasn’t the way she was made.

  Like with Matthew. She already cared about him too much for her peace of mind. The gentleness and consideration he’d shown when he’d made love to her that morning had caught at her. His worry about what she might think of him that night in Fort Lauderdale and his concern for her that day in the elevator had touched her. Last night he’d helped her. Those men had been after her, not him, and Matthew had rescued her. What they, or the ones on the trip here, had wanted and why she couldn’t imagine but they’d been after her not Matthew. He’d made certain she was safe, walking her all the way to her hotel room door. The kiss notwithstanding, as much as he wanted her, he hadn’t done it with the expectation of sex.

  She remembered that kiss vividly. The memory sent a burst of heat through her. Want.

  And, if anything happened to him… The thought made her shudder.

  Whatever enjoyment she’d gotten from the night was gone.

  There was some money left in the machine. She’d lose the rest and leave.

  Matt followed Ariel to the casino, keeping a sharp eye out for the stooges. He hadn’t missed her quick glances around, so she was watching and being careful, too. That was good. Well, if nothing else, at least he’d have a few hours of relatively mindless entertainment.

  There were plenty of casinos around Phoenix and he’d spent some time in a few of them. He’d done his time in Vegas, too. Not the slots but the table games. Fortunately, there was a table playing Texas Hold ‘Em nearby with a good view of Ariel and a limit he could live with. Even with his attention divided, he wasn’t doing too badly. He was actually up a bit more than he usually was. Maybe she’d brought him luck.

  She didn’t seem to be doing too bad, either, from all he could tell. Her laughter was infectious. The people around her seemed to appreciate it, her warmth and smiles working the same magic as they had before, opening up those around her to talk as they played. She switched machines but stayed with the nickel slots where he could see her. It was obvious this was new to her but she was being smart and spending little money.

  Again, people around her warmed to her, pointing out things on the machine and giving her tips. Her chin would drop a little and those bright eyes would sparkle attentively while she listened. Then she would smile. He wished it was at him.

  Matt saw the man circling, his eyes on Ariel as she played. Good-looking guy, if a little flashy and too slick.

  The man sat down next to her and gave her a look.

  Matt could see why. He was looking himself. The blue sundress floated around her, draping nicely over her breasts, then loosely around her slim waist before skimming over her hips to swing around those lovely legs. The color made her eyes seem to glow, made her skin seem even whiter while drawing blue highlights from the midnight fall of her hair. She was lovely, ethereal.

  The guy was trying to start up a convers
ation but she wasn’t giving him the slightest sign of interest. He put his arm around the back of her chair, touched her back. She stiffened. She said something to him sharply but the guy leaned in and rubbed her back. She pulled away then she gave him a laser look from those blue eyes that would have cut steel, much less that yo-yo. He got up, said something mean and nasty by the look on his face. She cut him off with those eyes and turned a shoulder to him but Matt hadn’t missed what her dark lashes hid.

  Apparently, the machines had lost their attraction.

  Staying close but not too close, he followed her across the street, his eyes scanning the street and the lobby incessantly before taking the stairs once he was certain she was safely in the elevator. From the corner of the window of the stairs he watched her walk from the elevator toward her room until he couldn’t see her. Home and safe. There had been no sign of the stooges. Maybe they’d lost interest in her. He started up the stairs, two at a time. It was a lot of floors up. Good exercise, though.

  Ariel had already pulled out her room key before she caught the sudden movement from the corner of her eye. Someone big, massive, was coming at her from down the hall in a rush. She wouldn’t make it inside the door in time. Frantically, she threw herself away from it to let it close. If he caught her inside her room alone she would be in serious trouble.

  He snatched at her but she twisted to evade him, turned to run. Two more were coming from the other direction. She recognized them, they were the men from the street.

  She dodged one, spun and tried to remember her self-defense classes. Striking out with a good strong side kick was like kicking the punching bag, jarring her leg as it hit solidly, and almost as useless. While it clearly hurt him, it only stopped him for a moment. Then it seemed to make him angry. Another huge arm snaked around her from behind, lifted her from the floor. She cried out in shock and surprise. She struggled and fought as the third one pushed the door to the stairs open and the other one swung her over the threshold.

  “No!” she cried out, terrified. Not the stairs. No people, too much privacy. “Let go!”

  The door swung shut, leaving her trapped with them in the stairwell.

  One of them grabbed her face, his fingers grinding into the bone of her jaw.

  “You’re going to pay for that, bitch.”

  His eyes looked hotly down the length of her body and then he touched her.

  “A lot.”

  Cold fear spurted through her.

  It was the scream that caught Matt, a shout just as he reached for the door handle to his floor. He’d heard the door on the lower floor open but hadn’t really thought about it. He knew that voice though.

  Ariel.

  He looked over the railing and went cold. It was only a glimpse but enough.

  The stooges and Ariel. One had his arm around her pinning her hands to her sides, lifting her off her feet, his arm hiking her dress up. She struggled, fought and kicked.

  “You’re going to pay for that, bitch,” one of them said.

  He slid a hand between her thighs.

  “A lot.”

  She kicked at him again and he backhanded her. The other clapped a hand over her mouth to silence her and hauled her down the stairs as she bucked and struggled, throwing him off balance.

  Matt vaulted the railing, already on the run but he was a lot of flights up.

  Hold on, Ariel, he prayed. He hoped they weren’t there to kill her outright as they had Bill, although if they were they should have done it by now. It was a simple matter of shoving her down the stairs.

  Unless they had other plans for her first. That thought sent a chill through him, especially remembering how the one had touched her.

  A red haze flushed over his vision at the thought. He fought it back, replaced it with icy calm. For the moment. Rage had its uses.

  That hand, touching her.

  Furious, Ariel kicked out again, driving her heels into the other man’s belly to push off him and unbalance the one carrying her.

  He lashed out at her. The backhand made her see stars. She tasted blood in her mouth.

  Even so, she kept fighting. She planted one foot against a wall and pushed. Anything to slow them down, keep them off balance and give her a chance to escape.

  Staggering, the one holding her had to take the hand away from her mouth for a moment to brace himself against the wall.

  “I fall down these stairs, you stupid bitch,” that one snarled. “I’m gonna make sure I fall on you.”

  Falling down the stairs was the least of her worries.

  Encircling her to keep her out of sight of the security cameras they dragged her through the back exit into the dark and noisome alley behind the hotel and hustled her away from the door. Only a single light above the door to the exit illuminated the passage. Both ends of the alley seemed a long way away. A long distance from lights and the people at either end.

  Here the walls were bare brick. There was little else except for the dumpsters nearby. The smell of rancid food, cooking oil from it and the urine on the pavement was cloying in the heat.

  Shifting his hands too quickly for her to escape, the one holding her grabbed a wrist in each hand and wrenched them around and up behind her back. Pain ripped through her shoulders as she was forced up on her toes.

  “What do you want?” she demanded, fighting back tears of pain, determined not to show how frightened she was.

  In her self-defense classes they’d always emphasized not letting panic take over, to think and keep thinking until you could get yourself out. It was the only way to survive.

  The other two closed in.

  From behind her, the man holding her said, “Remember, don’t mark up her face. Nothing visible.”

  A chill went through her.

  “This is in the nature of a discouragement,” the one she’d kicked said.

  He rubbed his belly where her foot had hit him.

  “A discouragement?” she asked, bewildered.

  He nodded. “You’re getting too nosy. Don’t get nosy. Don’t ask questions. Whatever you see, or think you see or hear, you keep it to yourself. We know where you live. We know where your parents live. Do the job you were hired to do, nothing else. Or next time will be worse.”

  Worse. Next time. That implied there would be a first time.

  This would be that first time.

  “You owe me for that kick.”

  He hit her, quick and hard, low in the ribs. Pain, and the air was driven out of her. Her lungs seized up. It was a second or two before sense took hold again. Her diaphragm was locked. It had happened in self-defense class. She remembered what her instructor had told her. If you get the wind knocked out of you, relax and stop fighting for air. Keep thinking.

  Ariel went limp.

  Smiling, the one that hit her said, “That took the fight out of her.”

  That’s what he thought. She could breathe again.

  His hands went to her breasts, squeezed hard. “Sweet.”

  No.

  Behind them the door to the hotel opened a little. A flare of hope blossomed as over and between their shoulders she saw Matthew slip silently through, letting the door ease shut behind him.

  None of them noticed, they were all focused on her. All three were big guys, heavy with muscle and two were as tall as Matthew. He was alone but she could see from the look in his eyes he was going to try to help her. Despite the circumstances of their first meeting there was a confidence to him, an assurance and a capability she’d sensed in him. He’d said then that normally they wouldn’t have gotten him. Still, he was outnumbered now as he had been then.

  This time, though, surprise would be in his favor.

  A hand went from her breast, snagged in her panties, bunched and pulled, hard, ripping them away. Elastic burned across her skin.

  No, oh no.

  That one was too close.

  Matt had vaulted railings, scrambling down the stairs as fast as he dared. A broken ankle wouldn’t h
elp Ariel and if they were taking her somewhere he was already too late. Too much time had gone by. He hoped not. The thought of it tore at him. All he could do was pray she was still fighting as hard as she had in the stairwell, struggling, doing everything she could to delay them. Making it hard for them.

  He slid silently through the door and into the alley.

  They were still there.

  One of them had Ariel’s arms drawn up behind her back. The one he thought of as Moe. Larry and Curly were standing in front of her.

  Ariel.

  Those dark-fringed blue eyes were huge. Pain and fear were etched on her face. Then he felt her eyes on him and knew she’d seen him, she watched him. Surprise was his only advantage against three guys this big and he prayed she wouldn’t scream for help, that she wouldn’t say anything that would give him away. Give them both away.

  Her eyes were clear when she looked at him, desperately frightened but not panicked. Terrified but thinking. Good girl.

  There was blood on her lip and Larry had his hands on her. With her arms pulled up behind her, her skirt was rucked up too high, revealing her pale legs and a flash of white lace.

  His fingers twisted in the lace, Larry ripped it away.

  Fury cleared Matt’s mind in a hurry. They hadn’t heard him yet but they would know it when he hit them. He moved, fast, while they were preoccupied.

  Feeling the man’s hand bunch in her panties, Ariel’s mind nearly went blank with terror but then her feet touched the ground when the one who held her craned his head to look. Her feet had purchase. The burn as her panties ripped away galvanized her. She snapped a kick, as hard as she could, into the one in front of her, at the same time smashing her head back hard into the one behind her. It hurt but she felt something crunch against her skull painfully. Worse, her kick was off center and not hard enough to do real damage. Both, though, were hard enough to distract the men.