Finally, applause broke wildly through the room and then the begging for her to continue began. Of course she would not. Addison Sterling never gave in for the demand from her audience for more. This could have, and if she were another musician would have, been perceived as selfishness. But Addison's natural charm washed over them, soothing the sting of rejection. The truth was, she poured so much of her soul into each performance that she physically couldn't go on. It was all she could do to pack up her instrument, accept the congratulations and then flee. Maestro understood and gave her a strong arm to lean on.
Addison reached out and took his proffered arm, allowing him to help her to her feet. She accepted a hug from the birthday girl and murmured her thanks at the effusive praise and the large cheque made out to the orchestra, which made the Maestro beam. She nearly made her way completely through the room when she sensed a very large presence in front of her. It caused her to stop abruptly so she wouldn't run into it. She frowned beneath the cover of her sunglasses. There was also a presence to the right of the massive man. Another man. This one sent a chill down her spine. He was different from anyone else in the room. He was so still, his emotions so contained that rather than sensing his presence, she almost sensed an empty space where a person should be. She was reminded sharply of the feeling she'd had in the elevator the other day: of someone there, but also not there.
"Addison Sterling, wonderful performance," the voice of the huge man was deep and booming. She found her hand taken and engulfed in a massive paw of a hand. "My name is Tyson King. I'm not usually a patron of the arts, but if anyone can convince me to start, it'll be you. I look forward to watching your career with interest."
"Oh," Addison said, startled. "I live in your building."
"Do you now?" he rumbled.
"Yes," she smiled, unable to completely conceal the fatigue from her voice. Maestro shifted his arm to slide it around her waist. She felt a shifting in the air around her, like a sudden, snapping tension. "My real estate agent tried to sell it to me based on the extra security your team brings to the building."
"And is that what sold you?" he asked, as though he really cared.
Addison flashed him a grin and shook her head. "I bought it for the view."
He paused for a second and then burst out laughing. Maestro also laughed. Whoever was with Tyson King did not laugh.
"If you decide to leave the orchestra behind, you can take up comedy," he announced, still chuckling. The man whose presence barely registered leaned in to speak in Tyson King's ear. She could barely make out a voice, even with her sharp ears. The tones were deep and concise. Tyson rumbled back and then stepped away from her. "Daniel assures me you must be exhausted. I apologize for keeping you. I'll make sure your path is clear if you'd like to make your way home now. I look forward to meeting you again Ms. Sterling."
Addison shivered. If she'd been alone with this Daniel person, she would have given the man a piece of her mind for making assumptions about her. Though she was pretty much dead on her feet, she'd decided long ago to forge her own path in life. She looked right to where she knew Daniel stood and tilted her chin, before turning back to Tyson and thanking him politely for his support before excusing herself.
“Charles,” she said brightly, turning to the Maestro and shrugging off her fatigue. “Perhaps a drink to celebrate the generosity of our benefactor this evening, before you drop me off?”
“Of course, my dear, your wish is my command!” he murmured happily, steering her away.
She shivered as she left, sensing eyes on her and intense, pervasive hostility wrapping around her, tugging and tearing. Only the hostility wasn't aimed at her. If she wasn't mistaken, it was aimed entirely at Charles Batten, whose arm was wrapped firmly around her waist holding her upright and leading her toward the car.
CHAPTER THREE
He calmly inserted his copy of her key into the deadbolt and turned it in the lock. He pushed the door open and paused on the threshold, taking her scent deep into his lungs, savouring her essence. He'd never imagined a woman smelling so damn good. He wanted to devour every inch of her. It made no sense to him. There was nothing special about Addison. She wasn't beautiful...
Except she was.
He would challenge, and most likely brutalize, anyone that said otherwise. Addison's beauty was lush, yet also subtle, the type that became more obvious over time as a person got to know her. She was curvy, yet also delicate. Her movements were graceful and deliberate, her long wavy brunette hair begged to be wrapped around his fist. Her lovely bowed lips, pursed in concentration when she played her cello and lit up in a smile when she spoke to other people. Like Tyson King. Or her Maestro.
His body became taut. He could so easily see himself meting out death to the Maestro. He had to remind himself he was trying to blend into mainstream society. Murdering people that annoyed him wasn't a great way to fit in. He often yearned for his mercenary days, living in jungles and deserts, killing for money where no one would notice one extra body. Perhaps he would satisfy himself by 'accidentally' breaking the arm that had touched Addison's waist.
Forcing his muscles to release, he stepped into her home, closed the door firmly behind himself and locked it. She would be home soon. Until then, he would wait.
***
Addison tripped over the threshold of her apartment and giggled as she grabbed hold of the doorframe. Maestro quickly took hold of her arm until she was completely upright and then patted her shoulder gently. She could sense his amusement. Which wasn't exactly fair considering he'd had just as many cocktails as she'd had. It was a spur of the moment decision for them to go out and celebrate the generous donations the orchestra had received that evening. Only Maestro seemed better able to down four cocktails without experiencing the dizzying effects to which she seemed so susceptible. It wasn't a surprise, considering Addison rarely drank.
"Come on in Charles," she said, her voice slurring a little. "Stay for a drink." She reached for the light switch and then giggled realizing she wasn't entirely sure where it was, since she never turned it on. She told him as much.
His laughter was a booming baritone. "I can only stay for a minute, Addie. Marilyn is probably wondering what's taking so long, she's not used to my being out so late in the evening."
"What an impatient little bitch she is," Addison giggled. “She never warmed up to me. I bet she's just jealous!"
"You know Yorkshire Terriers, Addison, my dear," he agreed. "They're a one man kind of dog."
Addison smiled and winced slightly as artificial light flooded her eyes unexpectedly. He must have turned on the kitchen light. People would do that without warning her, often forgetting she couldn't see them groping for the switch or not understanding that the light could affect her too, despite her visual impairment. She turned her face away from the light source and began pulling off her bow tie.
"I do hate these parties, but I have to admit, Maestro, this one was a little more tolerable. I even got to meet the eminent Mr. King himself. I wonder how the heck he knows Mrs. Channing? That seems like a strange connection. She’s a little old for him.”
"Ah, well I may know the answer to that," he said, running the tap in her kitchen sink and from what she could hear, pouring two glasses of water. "I believe his old friend, Niccolo DeLuca, has business ties with her nephew overseas. Daniel Mercer is well acquainted with the nephew too, as far as I understand. I believe the two of them worked together in the security sector."
He pressed a glass of water into her hand while she was releasing the top buttons of her dress shirt. She waved him in the direction of her front room and smiled when she heard his gasp of appreciation. "This view, Addie… it's absolutely breathtaking… It's, forgive my bluntness, absolutely wasted on a blind woman!"
"Perhaps," she said, taking a gulp of water and setting her glass down on the coffee table before reaching for the waistband of her dress pants. "But you forget Maestro, I am an artiste, I have an excellent imaginati
on. The view from my window is as boundless as my imagination.”
She could feel his stillness as he took her words in. "Addison Sterling, you are a profoundly beautiful person," he said, then cleared his voice. "Are you taking your pants off?"
She laughed out loud, her voice ringing through the apartment. "Don't worry Charles, I'm not making a pass at you. I'm simply making myself comfortable. This dress shirt goes down nearly to my knees and I'm wearing stockings underneath. You can pretend you can't see anything since I can't, if it makes you feel better," she said laughingly.
He cleared his throat as she kicked off her pants and settled herself comfortably onto the sofa armchair in the corner of her living room. She could have no idea how provocative she looked with her legs encased in dark pantyhose crossed primly at the ankle in front of her, wearing only a man's dress shirt, unbuttoned down to her cleavage with her bowtie carelessly untied around the collar. Though the Maestro was old enough to be her father, he made a point of sitting clear across the room from her.
"Tell me, Charles, how do you know so much about Mr. King's affairs, and who is Daniel… what's his name?" she asked, reaching for her glass of water.
He cleared his throat again. "I go to a lot of these parties. Unlike some of my best talent, I don't get to dodge them, and I've made it a habit of listening to the gossip that floats around. It's helpful to know who might be a good target for donations and who's all talk. Some of those people are all window dressing. There's no point in cozying up to the wrong ones if they don't have money to spend."
"That's so mercenary of you!" she gasped, laughing.
"It's part of the job, darling. You should remember that if you decide to start publishing those compositions of yours."
"And this Daniel person, and the nephew?"
"Ah yes," he answered, clearly enjoying being able impart some of his precious bank of gossip to an avid listener. "You actually met Daniel Mercer tonight. Well… not actually met. He was the bodyguard with Tyson King. Did you sense something different about the person standing next to King, maybe a little dangerous? You’re usually pretty good at sensing that sort of thing.”
Her breath caught for just a moment and she was back in the ballroom, experiencing that odd sensation of empty space. "Yes, I think so," she said softly. "What do you mean by dangerous?”
He hesitated before answering. "It's not easy to explain, there’s just something about him, something in his eyes. Also the way he moves, or doesn't move. There's a stillness about him, like he's waiting for something. It's eerie Addison. And I can tell you, everyone around him senses it too. That man gets a wide berth wherever he goes."
"You've seen him often?" she asked, curious now about the mysterious man.
"Not often, but whenever Tyson King mixes with the orchestra set, and I happen to be out schmoozing for donations."
She grinned and leaned back in her armchair, crossing her legs. "But you do it so well, Charles. And we so appreciate your efforts on our behalf."
He groaned. "It would go so much easier if I had a beautiful woman on my arm. One who wasn't half bad at the cello."
She shouted with laughter and hurled a pillow in his direction. She could tell he caught it, which was probably a good thing, considering her aim wasn’t the best. "I'm the best string you have, and don't you forget it, old man!" she settled back in her chair and pulled her legs under her to sit cross-legged. "Now tell me, what does this frightening Daniel guy do for Tyson King? I'm curious! I wonder if I've run into him in the building, like in the elevator or something." She shivered.
"He's King's head of security. I heard King hired him after Mercer saved his life. No doubt King offered him an obscene amount of money for the job."
Addison leaned her head back into the cushion and tried to picture what a man like that might look like. Was he big and scarred? Or was he handsome in a rugged sort of way? She could usually formulate some kind of picture in her mind of what a person looked like. She found herself curious to meet Daniel Mercer for herself now in a more formal way. He seemed… interesting.
"He must be really good at his job," she murmured with a yawn. "Or Mr. King wouldn't've given him the time of day, let alone bucketfuls of money to come work for him. I wonder what he's like?"
"What he's like," said Maestro firmly, "is not for a gentle young woman like yourself to wonder about. Now, its time for me to get back to Marilyn Monroe and for you to get some sleep so you don’t make my orchestra sound like crap come Monday."
Addison smiled and stood to show the Maestro out. He leaned down and gave her the customary good-bye peck on the lips. She was used to his quick, fatherly caress and gently closed the door and locked it behind him. She yawned and stretched, reaching for the light.
***
He itched to wrap his fingers around her neck. She stood in front of him, with her back to him, just inches from his body. Never, in recent memory had he been so consumed by such scalding fury. He could barely control himself. He'd stalked her down the hall after she'd closed the door on her precious Maestro. After the man had placed his lips against the softness of her skin, claiming the plush mouth that was to be his alone. If that had been his only infraction, the Maestro would still be a dead man. But he had been loose with his tongue, speaking freely of Daniel and his employer. Gossiping like an old woman, warning Addison away from him before she had even been properly introduced. Worst of all he had been present while she'd undressed.
Which was the reason he so badly wanted to wrap his fingers around her neck, shove her facedown over the counter and beat her ass until she understood that no man would ever watch her take her clothes off except him. The only thing stopping him was the fact that Addison wouldn't understand. He would be a faceless man, terrorizing her in her own home, for reasons unknown to her. Until he was able to calm the fuck down and introduce Addison to a few new realities in her life he would have to patient.
"Don't go breaking my heart!" Addison suddenly burst out, flinging her arms over her head, startling him.
He realized quickly she was singing, quite badly, for someone with the exceptional musical talent he'd witnessed earlier in the evening.
"Woohoo, nobody knows it!… When I was down, I was your clown, nobody knows it!" she sang as she danced around the room, easily sashaying around the furniture despite her inebriated state and blindness. He stared in astonishment, unsure if he should grab her before she made a mistake and slammed into something. "Right from the start, I gave you my heart, I gave you my heart..."
She began unbuttoning her shirt down the front. She grabbed the two sides of the white dress shirt, turned to face him and flung them open, baring her creamy skin, black bra and black stockings. "So don't go breaking my heart, I won't go breaking your heart, don't go breaking my heart."
She flung the shirt off, reached for the stockings and shimmied them down her thighs. She hopped around a little, breathlessly chanting a few more lines before yanking the hose completely off. Daniel stood a few feet away from her, taking in every inch of skin revealed to him in the dim glow of the city behind her. She hadn't bothered with curtains. It probably didn't occur to her that people from other buildings might be able to see her.
He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. He'd wanted this woman for himself for months now, since she moved into the building and he started building a security portfolio on her. He wanted to teach her to obey him, to always submit to him. He wanted to discipline her, to dominate and torture her body until she screamed for him, came for him so hard she would never again think of other men.
Addison pulled down the straps of her padded bra, releasing breasts that looked to be somewhere between an A and B cup. They didn't quite fit with the flare of her hips and ass, making her more of a lush pear shape. Which worked for him. He was very much into her backside when it came to paying particular attention to Addison’s assets. His eyes burned as her bra dropped with a soft thud and she reached to hook her finge
rs into the elastic top of her black panties. Without particular flare, because she had no idea she had an audience, she wiggled them over the width of her hips, down her thighs and kicked them off.
She stood proudly naked before him. The city glow behind her was enough that he could make out the dark pink of her areolas and jutting nipples. Her pussy was tidy but unshaven. He moved soundlessly as she strode toward him, heading for the washroom. Once more, as she did in the elevator, she froze when she was standing right next to him. She stopped walking, gloriously naked, except for the long chestnut hair flowing down her body. She tilted her head to the side, toward him and inhaled as he had done so many times to her.
He was curious. Could she smell him? He never wore scents. It was a dead giveaway. But everyone had pheromones, and some people were more sensitive to them than others. Could she detect him? If so, then he would be forced to move up his plans for her. Just now, looking down at her nude body, he wasn't sure that was a bad idea.
***
Addison laughed.
She really was going crazy. Maybe living in the sightless world of her own head for the past twenty-eight years had finally driven her over the edge. What she needed was a release, the kind only Bugs could provide.
Still humming to herself she made her way to the bathroom for a quick rinse. She finished up by brushing her teeth and hair and then made her way into the bedroom. Reaching into the bedside table, she pulled her favourite vibrator, the ‘rabbit,' out of its bag and set it on the bed. Hopping up onto the plush mattress she wiggled until she was right in the middle and perfectly comfortable, leaned back against a stack of pillows.
She pressed the buttons until it was on her favourite setting and leaned back for a nice relaxing session with Bugs.
Fear in Her Eyes (Fire & Vice Book 5) Page 2