by Duka Dakarai
We are staying at the Hotel on the night, an entire floor of penthouse suites reserved in our honour. In the morning it was planned that we would all have an early swim in the pool to revive us after undoubtedly too much champagne then eat breakfast together but now I will be missing from the breakfast party. Drew is disappointed, I know, but each new appointment could bring a wealth of new contracts.
Mia, of course, keeps asking if I am alright about this forthcoming weekend. You see, this Saturday coming would have been my Wedding Day, and I should have been marrying Simon. The wedding itself was planned as a small, personal service, much to Simon’s disappointment, followed by a honeymoon in a secluded lodge, Craigmere, just outside Edinburgh. So every time she asks, which is almost daily at the moment, I have to reassure her that I am totally fine. And honestly, I am. I even surprised myself that I have not shed a tear for this coming Saturday. Simon is now firmly in my history.
Drew has been especially kind and understanding to tell me that he will understand if I feel emotional on Saturday. I have assured him that the only emotions I will be feeling are pride and joy, for him, at his special event.
So here I am, Thursday, twirling around in front of the full length mirror with a pile of dresses on the bed, trying to decide which is the most suitable for Saturday night. Mia has lent me two dresses to consider that she acquired from a recent photo-shoot as freebies, and the other was a gift to myself via my credit card. The sound of a male voice makes me jump from my deliberations.
“Mmm….I like that one” Drew is leaning on the door frame to the entrance of my bedroom, head cocked to the side. “You left your front door open again”
“This is Barripper, baby. Nothing locks their front door here. You like?” I make another small twirl.
“You look breathtaking. But, personally, I always prefer you naked.” A raised eyebrow.
“Shall I just turn up naked then? Do you think the other guests would mind?”
“Naked only for me, baby! So is that the one….I’m thinking by the pile on the bed….maybe not, huh?”
“Oh, I’ve no idea….I keep changing my mind!” I give him a frustrated pout.
“I’m slowly learning that! This relationship stuff is complicated. And then I suppose you have to decide on shoes and handbags and accessories yet? We could be here all night….” He’s openly laughing now, teasing me.
“Quit with the mouth and get your cute butt over here for a kiss, Templer!”
In two long strides he has me enveloped in his arms raining kisses across my face. And once again, just the smell and taste of him and I want him. A small groan parts my lips. “Take me to bed, Templer”
The new Hotel completed by Templer Industries is magnificent. The 18-storey building includes 350 bedrooms and suites with public areas including a gallery space, art-house cinema, spa and restaurant on the double height top floor. The cylindrical shape of the bronze-coloured building (which has four floors below ground) has drawn comparisons to a waste paper basket. But the design has been drawn up with its environment in mind. The punched aluminium outer skin, for example, is inspired by punch cards that were used to programme old industrial power looms - drawing on the textile heritage of this area in Shoreditch. The planning permission was personally backed by the Mayor of London.
Amber, Mia and I are sat watching Drew and Jake ‘work the room’. The opening event has been an outstanding success with both relief and delight radiating off the two men. We, on the other hand, are giving our feet a rest from the ridiculously high heels.
Amber and I are literally glowing with pride. We have bonded instantly, with her throwing her arms around me in a tight hug the moment we were introduced. She has the jet black hair of her brothers with brown eyes, tall and elegant. She has spent the last half hour excitedly discussing her latest sculpture while also in awe of Mia. Amber is supplementing her income until she has established her own artistic commissions with part time modelling. Like Mia, she is utterly beautiful and fiercely independent.
Another hour passes by, and the event is drawing to its natural close. Drew has given a commanding speech in which he pays particular attention to thank all those involved in the design, planning and building of the project. He closes by asking Jake to join him on the platform, while they ask Boris Johnson to cut the ribbon, declaring the Hotel officially open. I think my heart will combust with love and pride as I join in the clapping and cheers.
“Oh, that feels good. Could you be any more perfect?” I groan out the words. Drew is crossed legged on our circular bed in the penthouse suite rubbing my aching feet.
“Just doing my job, ma’am! But, of course, there are aching parts of me that will need massaging by you in a minute” He grins, and cocks his head.
“Oh really? I can’t think where….you might need to show me” I fake puzzlement.
He slowly, seductively, unzips his fly and draws out his cock. “This aches really, really badly”
And I launch myself towards him, wrapping my mouth around the head of his cock.
Chapter Eighteen
Leaving Drew and the luxurious soft circular bed at six in the morning to get ready for my early breakfast meeting sucks. The shower didn’t relieve my thumping champagne head or lift my mood. But I know I have to get my ass into work mode and fast. By the time I exit the Hotel and head off, I’m already wishing I was back there with them all about to enjoy a swim before a family sit-down to breakfast. But I do raise a smile to myself that Drew has organised a private helicopter to return me to Cornwall when I am done. He and his siblings will fly home in the Jet after breakfast for a long awaited weekend together. I will join them later today.
“I can’t squeeze in another mouthful” Jake is sitting back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head.
“Are you sure about that, fat boy? You damn near ate everything on the table!” Mia drawls sarcastically at his direction, not lifting her head to look at him. Jake scowls a wordless response.
Amber eyes them both apprehensively but Drew shakes his head at her. He has given up, heeding my advice, trying to work out their love, hate, love again relationship. Instead, he smiles to himself, amused. A ping from his phone indicates the arrival of a text. He eyes the messenger, TILLY, thumbing over the name lovingly before opening to read its contents:
I lied. I don’t love you. It’s over.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” A shocked bellow erupts from Drew’s mouth as his body involuntarily jumps from his seat, his chest instantly heaving with instantaneous anxiety. Jake, Amber and Mia recoil, stunned, as other diners also jump at this sudden outburst in the dining room.
Before the others can summon words of concern, his trembling hands speed dial my number. My phone cuts the call instantly.
“Tilly, baby, talk to me….what’s happened? What have I done? Baby, please call me. You can’t mean it.” His voice is broken with emotion. He slumps back into his chair, throwing his phone on the table. He scrapes a hand down his face.
“What the fuck is going on?” Jake leans across the table towards Drew. “Drew! Drew, what’s happened?”
Drew is gathering his breath which now feels restricted in his throat. He can’t seem to speak. He shakily opens the text and shows his brother. Jake angrily tosses the phone at Mia. She gasps, thrown by what she is reading. This isn’t right……
Amber has her hand firmly clasped across her mouth. Instinctively, she reaches across to grab Drew’s hand but he withdraws away from her.
“This isn’t right. She adores you. I know she does.” Mia shakily responds.
“Oh, so the text is some sort of fucking sick joke is it?” Drew snarls, eyes suddenly now blazing. He can feel bile rising in his throat. Any minute now, he is going to heave up his breakfast, anxious nausea pooling in his mouth. “I need to get out of here….this room is closing in on me”
“Drew, wait! I’ll call her. Don’t run away until I speak to her.” Mia beckons to him, but he’s already striding
out the dining room door. She hastily grabs for her phone as she watches Amber and Jake rushing after Drew. She dials my number but my phone disconnects the call. “Tilly, honey, speak to me. What’s going on? Drew is beside himself, devastated. What’s changed? Has he done something to upset or hurt you. I’m worried, honey. Call me as soon as you get this message.”
Jake has had a few hours to calm down from the initial shock and anger from seeing the text on his brother’s phone. He eyes his brother nervously. I should have arrived over an hour ago in Mawgan Porth but instead Jake is stood watching his brother slam yet more neat Bourbon down his throat. He is wilted into a chair on the veranda, nursing the remaining dregs from the Bourbon decanter, stroking it as though he was tenderly stroking my body. Drew has called my phone endlessly but my phone continued to reject his calls, before telling him the phone is now switched off.
“You don’t need to do this. Why did you send that text to Drew? Why?” I wail in the direction of my captor, tears again stinging my red swollen eyes.
He turns to me, snarling. “Because he needed to know the FUCKING truth! You love me. And stop with the fucking tears. I’m sick of hearing it!”
I try to recall step by step how I got here but all my mind will play over and over again is a tortured image of Drew receiving the text from me. I can only imagine how devastated and hurt he must be feeling. But the text wasn’t from me….although it was sent from my phone. My stomach is twisted in anxiety and aches from dry retching. We are speeding up the motorway heading North, my captors hands gripped in rage on the steering wheel. My hands are bound with a cable tie which I can feel biting into the flesh of my wrists.
“Please, Simon, please stop! Don’t do this!” I sob out, another retch catching in my throat.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!” Simon growls at me, lashing backhanded at my face, and suddenly the metallic taste of blood pools in my mouth.
Another loud crash has Jake running toward the veranda. It is ten minutes past midnight, and as he corners the outside of the house, he lunges at Drew stopping him from hurling another glass at the wall. Drew is beyond drunk now after consuming an entire decanter of Bourbon. Jake has tried talking, consoling and eventually hugging his brother tight while he cried. Jake has only ever seen Drew cry once before….when their father died. He feels helpless. He stayed with his brother, while sending Amber with directions to my house. But of course, she found no answer there.
Jake’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He snatches it out angrily and notes that it is Mia calling.
“What? Have you fucking spoken to her?” He barks at her.
She ignores the tone, understanding his anger. “Something’s wrong, Jake. She hasn’t returned my calls either. I’ve left messages and texted her almost constantly since we left the Hotel. She wouldn’t worry me like this” Mia’s voice is pitched high with concern.
“Well, maybe she’s embarrassed! She should have fucking told Drew face to face. I could fucking kill her for this! He trusted her…..” Jake’s own voice is breaking now.
“Jake….please listen…..something is wrong. I know her. She wouldn’t do this….wouldn’t treat…..” A sob escapes from Mia’s mouth, unable to finish the words.
Jake can hear the stress and worry in her voice. Is she right? Is this the Tilly we have got to know? “Have you called her parents? Have they heard from her?” The anger is slipping away from him.
“Of course I have! And she hasn’t contacted them either. They are desperate too. Oh, Jake, something is wrong…..I’m scared….I’m coming to Cornwall at first light” Mia is openly sobbing out the words now. Jake feels a wrench in his chest.
“Well, come straight here. I’ll get Thomson to pick you up. Text me the time of your flight. We’re checking her cottage every hour but as of ten minutes ago, there is still no answer. If we don’t hear anything by the time you get here in the morning, I think we should call the Police.” He is suddenly calm and alert now. He believes Mia. Something is not right, but he knows the fucking Police won’t even start to do anything until 24 hours are up because she is an adult.
Chapter Nineteen
Day Two.
Drew staggers down into the kitchen to be met with a sobbing Mia. What the fuck is she doing here? Oh, Jesus, have something happened to Tilly? His brain is so fogged he can’t think straight. Although the level of alcohol that he consumed should have put him into a sleep coma, he didn’t sleep. Instead, he tossed and turned, images of Tilly refusing to leave his mind….her naked body, her laugh, her playful pout, her cries of pleasure when she comes……
He falls into a chair fighting off concerned hugs from Amber. Mia is making a shrieking sound that is ripping through his ears and piercing the back of his eyeballs. Jake is on the phone, pacing back and forth, outside. He can’t make out what he is saying. Please, God, he is talking to Tilly and she’s agreeing to talk to me….
“Oh, you’re awake….listen, Drew…..we need to talk” Jake has finished his call and entered the kitchen. “It’s about Tilly”
“Is she willing to talk to me? Was that her on the phone?” Drew is resting his head in his hands. Mia has slowed her sobbing and staring at Jake.
“No, it was the Police and….”
“POLICE! Fuck….what…..what….oh, Jesus!” Drew clasps a hand across his mouth, his mind exploding in his brain, his body suddenly buckling.
Jake rushes to him, grabbing him tight to his chest. “Stop….we don’t know anything is wrong yet. But Drew, we’ve reported her missing. I believe Mia…..this isn’t Tilly. She’s not responding to anyone’s calls, including her parents. And she’s not returned to the cottage. Thomson broke in late last night.” He squeezes his brother tighter, waiting, waiting for the breakdown he knows will come.
Drew can’t take this in. His mouth is opening and closing but there is silence. He’s so grateful that his brother is holding him tight otherwise he might fall straight out of the chair. Jesus, please be safe, please be safe….
My bottom lip is swollen and painful. Simon will not release my hands from the cable tie and so trying to drink the tea that he is insisting I drink is proving difficult. I manage a few drops but more of the scolding heat is spilling on my legs. We slept fully clothed last night in the bed of the lodge, Craigmere, where we should have been honeymooning. Instead, he is holding me captive. Memories of yesterday are haunting my every thought. I am trying to remain calm so not to antagonise him, hoping he will come to his senses and realise what he has done. He hasn’t touched me sexually (yet) and I pray silent prayers that he doesn’t.
I remember my shock and horror when I turned up to the breakfast meeting, entering the room of the plush office suite, to be met by Simon. I turned immediately to walk out but am pulled back by my hair, and fall to the floor with the force. He grabbed me around the throat, threatening me, before pulling me from the office and forcing me into his car. I was struggling and shouting. Passers by ignored the situation almost like we were invisible. Once inside, he slapped me so hard I remember feeling the window against my temple before blacking out. I don’t know how long I was unconscious for, but when I came to, I was cable tied and we had driven to a back street. Simon had my phone in his hand, texting. He must have worked out that I was in a new relationship because the only new male name in my directory also had a personal ring tone attached.
He had me sit until the late hours of the night listening to him shout at me that I would fall in love with him again and that I had brought this upon myself. He had no choice to take me by force because I didn’t seem to know my own mind anymore.
The missing report on me has been logged. My parents are liaising with Mia and Jake. Everything seems to be moving fast now, almost like fast forward. Cornwall Constabulary have checked the cottage in Barripper and remain understanding to the explanation of Drew’s driver forcing an entry late last night. They are in contact with the Met. London Officers are currently on their way to Simon’s apartment to question him to
see if he has had any contact from me.
Drew can’t sit and he can’t stand. Pacing seems to be the only thing that is keeping him from completing losing control.
“Drew, they’ll find her. They will. Please try to eat something or at least drink this tea. Please” Amber places another mug on the kitchen table. Her face is crinkled with concern. She wishes she could do something, anything. Jake and Mia are busy, both on their mobile phones. But Amber is lost. She has been told by Jake to stay watching Drew.
“I don’t want fucking tea! Jake, what’s happening….let me fucking speak to someone….I’m going fucking mad!” He screams the words out.
The hours are dragging their heels stretching out the agony. He’s trying to think….trying to think…..
At nearly eight in the evening, a young constable rings the doorbell. There is a rush of bodies to open the door, the sight of the police uniform causing Drew’s heart to smash against his ribcage, his legs weak under him.
“Mia Fox?”
“Yes, that’s me! Oh God, what’s happened?” Mia pushes forward in front of Drew and Jake.
“Ma’am, we have heard back from the Met. Miss Teague’s ex fiancé….” He checks his notes on a pad before continuing. “Simon Clifford? He appears to be missing also. He has not been at work for the last two days and there is no response from his apartment.”
Mia is taking in this information but the clogs of her brain are straining with exhaustion and stress. “What - what are you saying……?” She can’t be with him……
“We followed up the address of the Charity that you informed us Miss Teague was visiting yesterday morning. It doesn’t exist…just a bogus website. The office suite appears to have been rented by Simon Clifford three days previously. We have also now received reports of witnesses recording seeing a distressed lady seemingly being forced into a car outside of the same office block.”