***
Regan was still thinking about the electricity that overtook her body when Rick touched her hand back at the restaurant. She had never experienced anything like that before, and it was overpowering her senses. She got dressed then looked at herself in the mirror. She wore a strapless, embellished pink gown that trailed to her ankles with a split along each side, exposing her calves. She tied up her brown hair and left one fringe of red streaked hair hug the left side of her face. Diamond studs rested on her earlobes and completed her look. She felt pretty, and it gave her a maddening rush to imagine Rick pressing his lips to her exposed neck and caressing his fingers across her bare shoulders. A knock on the door made her jump. Her heart racing, she glanced once again in the mirror before opening the door. Rick stood in his grey suit looking breathtakingly handsome but she noticed his uneasiness. He looked at her, unfamiliar feelings rushing through his veins.
“You look beautiful,” he managed to say.
“Thanks. You look pretty dashing, too,” she winked. “Shall we?” She linked her arm through his, and that familiar electricity welled up inside her as they rode the elevator down to the first floor and entered the ballroom.
***
The party was a great success, and Rick and Regan had a great time. It was almost midnight and most of the couples had retired for the night to continue the party privately. There were two couples on the dance floor; one of them had no patience in finding a room and were off to a steamy start right on the floor. They kissed and embraced, and Rick saw the man put his hand inside her dress.
“Newlyweds speak for themselves, don’t you think?” she said when she followed Rick’s eyes to the fused bodies on the floor. Rick looked embarrassed at being caught. He had been restless the entire time. Regan’s presence in her ravishing clothes made it impossible for him to keep his mind on track. He had had one too many shots of vodka, and it was starting to get him tipsy but the uncanny restlessness in him did not flush. They did have a good time talking and dancing, and those brief moments of contact had been excruciatingly charged with heat.
“Would you like to dance again before we retire for the night?” He stood up and held his hand out to her. She placed hers in his without a moment’s hesitation. They moved to the corner of the dance floor, and Rick held her waist while she swung her arms around him. They moved to the music and were an inch apart from each other. Rick, Regan noticed, had tiny freckles around his eyes and a stub on his chin. She had the sudden urge to touch it. She slowly unwound her left hand from around his neck and brought it to his stub pressing it carefully like it was a button that read “Do Not Press”. She looked into his eyes awaiting his reaction.
Every bit of memory seemed to wipe clean from his brain only leaving behind Regan’s touch. The soft touch of her finger made him tremor in pleasure. He looked into her light brown eyes and found nothing but softness in them. Every part of his brain was working on etching her face forever in his mind’s eye. The rush of blood in her cheeks, the small mole on the left of her forehead almost hidden beneath the root of her hair, the red fringe tickling the side of her face, her full lips a little apart, teasing him with their lushness, everything was being stamped and locked with lust and love. He could smell her sweet, natural perfume and her breath gently swept across his neck causing a shiver of goose bumps all over his body. He wanted to kiss her then, wanted to lift her and hold her in his arms. He wanted . . .
“A kiss for your thoughts,” she uttered softly, stroking a finger across his shaved jawline.
“Good, then I get two kisses.” He pressed his lips to hers and inhaled deeply. Her arms tightened, and she clutched the end of his hair, kissing him back. They broke the kiss and looked at each other, breathless and their hearts beating rapidly in unison. He began to leave a trail of wet kisses starting from her chin, to the hollow of her neck and down to her exposed cleavage, his hands touching the small of her back. He heard her purr in approval and arch herself towards him. He hated the cloth between their bodies but the idea of touching her and exploring her body turned him on, causing adrenaline and desire to shoot through him. Regan closed her eyes and felt her heart hammering away as she got lost in his kisses. Every spot burned and sizzled, her hormones screamed for more, and she could feel the wetness between her legs. She opened her now opaque eyes filled with lust and looked at him.
“That was one.” Regan dived to his lips again and flooded and merged her tongue with his. They locked lips and closed in on the little space between them. Minutes passed, and their lips did not break apart even for a moment. They kissed with passion and slowly, not wanting it to end. Tasting one another, pulling and playing with their tongues, Rick and Regan devoured each other and drowned in the numbing ache it created inside them.
It had been three hours since the music was abruptly stopped, and the party goers ousted. Losing the moment, and realizing the number of witnesses around them, they reluctantly took a step away from each other, bid goodbye and settled into their own rooms, on the same floor. After he had arrived at his room, losing sight of Regan, reality had rushed back. All the memories crashed together in his mind making him go crazy. He was shell shocked by what had happened. Guilt burnt through him and frantic images of Tracy came thundering in front of his eyes. Shit, what were you thinking! Tracy was kidnapped and you go lusting after another woman! The voice blasted in his ears almost tearing his eardrums. He tried to shake it away but all he ended up doing was smashing the - god knows how many dollars’ worth - flower vase on the floor. It took a few shots of scotch to calm his nerves down before he could get into bed but images of Tracy sleeping on a rough cement ground crawling with giant spiders flashed in his mind. When he shook his head, trying to rid himself of those horrifying thoughts, another image of the kidnappers having her tied up and blindfolded came crashing into his head. No sooner had he torn that image down when another image of Tracy crying and dying out of betrayal filled in. He couldn’t bear it anymore. He got out of bed and poured another shot of scotch, downing it quickly. He had to go to Regan now and demand the money for his fiancée’s life.
Sloshed with alcohol, he staggered down to Regan’s room. His mind was fully focused on the blackmail speech that he had mentally prepared while slugging down the contents of the bottle. He slammed his fist across her door and waited. The door immediately opened and Regan stood there, her eyes dancing with joy. She wore a loose satin blue robe, and her hair was down and hung all around her pretty face.
“Rick! You - oh my god - you’re drunk. Are you okay?” Concern swept over her face, and her forehead creased.
“I help her. She was taken, and I couldn’t get money. I saw the photograph and decided I needed. You. To ask.” Disorganized words came tumbling out of his mouth, and the speech fell apart.
“I don’t understand . Rick, what’s going on? I’m worried about you. Can I help you in any way?” she asked holding him by his shoulders in case he lost his balance and fell. Rick tried to form the words again but when he opened his mouth, a flood of vomit spilt across the floor and on Regan’s robe. She let out a small scream and then a laugh.
“I guess we’re even now. Get in here. You need to sleep.” She guided him inside and made him sit on the bed. She poured a glass of water from the jug on the bedside table and held it to his lips. She got him to drink some and then pushed him down gently. His head hit the soft pillow, and he almost drifted to sleep. The little part of his brain that was groggily still active, felt her removing his sandals, tucking him well under the blanket and kissing his forehead. He smiled involuntarily, passed out and began to snore. Regan giggled and watched his face without the worry and uneasiness that had haunted him since she first saw him down at the bar. She felt her heart flutter and moan with love.
CHAPTER 4
Numbness. That was all that was left in her. Every inch of her body seemed foreign, and she shuddered and writhed in pain, trying not to feel helpless. She concentrated on stirring and feeling her
fingers but every little movement hurt. She lay balled up in the corner of the room with nothing but a thin blanket to save her from death. The air seemed to be filled with mist, and every ragged breath she managed to take - every puff of air she released - seemed to add on to the coldness she felt. She looked out to the snow packed window, an empty white canvas waiting for someone to fill it with life and colors. She waited for someone to bring life into her.
Tracy was thrown into the basement twenty four hours ago. When she regained consciousness, she was terrified and confused about what had happened. The last thing she remembered was seeing a man in a suit. When the entire episode finally clicked in her mind, she stood up in panic and ran towards the door. It was locked but she banged and screamed hoping someone, anyone would come to her rescue. When her palm burned and her throat gave way, she turned and looked around. The room was dimly lit by a bulb hanging from the ceiling. It was spacious but musty and smelled strongly of rust and dead rats. There was hardly any furniture around except for a spare table and a couple of cardboard boxes.
She moved around in search of something to pry the door open. She looked through the boxes but they were empty then felt for any drawers in the table but found none. Her heart beating faster, she pushed the table against the wall, climbed on it and stood on her toes to get to the window but it was tightly shut with iron rods up the front. The lock inside was rusty and when she tried to give it a pull it broke and fell into her palm. Flinging it away, Tracy pressed her face to the window and looked through the glass. The large expanse of ground was at eye level with a sheet of snow over it and wisps of falling snow covered the already thick layer. She realized she was in a basement of a house in some lonely part of the country because she couldn’t hear any sounds of traffic. Turning back to the room, she sat on the table, letting her legs hang. Oh my God, where am I? What are they going to do to me? She thought and felt her stomach churn, making her nauseous.
***
Charles paced by the basement door, irritation gnawing his fingers. He wanted to get her beside the fireplace, he wanted to give her the thick woolen blankets, he wanted to hug her and make her feel warm, anything than standing outside and letting her freeze to death. He had sent Bill to ask Mr. Green if they could bring her up from the basement or at the very least provide her with clothes. It was five minutes since he had asked, and his patience ran out. He pulled the latch open and heaved at the door. Light spilled into the dark room, and he saw her huddled at the corner, not moving. His heart jolted in panic as he rushed to her side.
“Tracy! Tracy, dammit can you hear me? Open your eyes!” he said rubbing her freezing palms. Her body looked like an ice sculpture, pale and cold. He removed his jacket and pushed it around her, lifting her from the ground. Wrapping his arms around her body, he rubbed her back, frantically. A sudden moan escaped her lips and relief washed over Charles’ face. If anything happened to her . . . He pulled her away from him and looked into her half-opened eyes.
“Let me go!” She used all her strength and tried to loosen his grip. His warmth was helping her body, and she wanted to melt into him but held back. Remember the plan, she said to herself, fighting the urge to fall into his arms.
The short whispered words attacked like quick arrows at Charles’s heart. God, this was hard.
“I’m trying to fucking help you. Do you want to die?” he screamed at her as fury fought against his concern. He tried to make her stand but she wouldn’t let him. He could have easily lifted her fragile body and pulled her up but he did not want to force her. He wasn’t good at hiding his feelings and pretending but he had to.
“FINE! DIE! I DON’T GIVE A SHIT.” His face red with rage, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. His heart wailed, and his mind screamed. He hoped this would be over soon and her fiancé would show up with the money. He was fuming as everything in him burned. Just then, a man came down the stairs with a bunch of blankets in his hands.
“Here you go, give these to her,” he said, offering the blankets to Charles.
“Give them to her your damn self.”
*******
His head pounded, and all he wanted to do was make it stop. He opened his eyes, and the light and colors hit his eye causing a ball of stinging fire to roll in his forehead.
“Good morning, Rick!” The voice came booming out, piercing his throbbing head, and he winced.
He slowly turned to look at the source of that too happy voice and found Regan standing beside him with a glass of water in her hand.
“Here, drink some water. It’ll help you.”
“Everything hurts.” He tried to get up and reach for the water but she brought it to his lips.
“Of course it does. You were quite a mess last night,” she laughed.
After a few glasses of water and a nice long, hot shower, Rick felt a little better and tried to recollect last night. Regan had gone downstairs to the reception desk for news about the weather, and Rick used the time to think back. The only thing he could remember was deciding to ask Regan for the money. Did I ask her? What happened? He racked his brain but only hit dead ends.
He left the room and headed down to the lobby. He spotted her talking to a couple of men. Rick stood by the elevator door and watched her, wondering what the butterflies in his body and soul meant? He observed her and then started walking involuntarily towards her, like a piece of iron being attracted to the magnet.
“Always for the best...” Regan stopped talking and excused herself when she saw Rick.
“How are you feeling now?”
“What happened last night?”
“You don’t remember anything?”
“I - I don’t. Please tell me.”
“It was nasty and unexpected.”
“Did we have sex?”
“You wish. After what happened, how could I even think of that?”
“What? Oh my god, Regan, I’m sorry. I had no choice. I’m desperate to –”
He stopped when Regan burst out laughing, and he couldn’t understand why. How could she be laughing if I did blackmail her? Did I make her lose her mind? His face blank, his mind rapidly forming twenty questions, he helplessly stared at Regan who was laughing long and loud, holding her sides.
“You are so easy to tease! Nothing happened, Rick! You blabbered like an idiot and then threw up all over the place! And when I dragged you to my bed, you fell fast asleep.”
She stopped laughing and looked lovingly at Rick. When was the last time she laughed so much, with so much ease? She couldn’t remember.
Her mind went back to the reason she was at the hotel in the first place. Her mind had been exploding with thoughts about her father. She hadn’t been able to get his affair out of her head. It had been bothering her from the time she confronted her father about the rumor and he had said it was true. She had run away from him at home, pushed past the security men and hailed a taxi. She abruptly stopped the cab and entered the Grand Turn Hotel. When the manager rushed forward to her, she told him she was waiting for someone. She drank, lost in thought until a sudden commotion outside shattered her deep, lost memories. She turned her head towards the source of the blast of music. The woman beside her, who was seated at a better angle, told her it was a flash mob regarding the election.
True, sweetie….. I was meaning to tell you….she is amazing…I love her….not forgotten your mother…you will like her…six months. Bits of the conversation rushed into her mind making her revolt with pain and rage. Composing herself, she smiled at the lady and stared outside at the traffic jam. She could see a bunch of cabs lined up and bicycles squeezing in through the gaps. Then she spotted Rick, and the tightness in her heart loosened, and she smiled at him. There was something about him that made her forget her troubles and swim in the unusual vibes her body had given her.
“I’m so sorry. I guess I drank a little too much,” he said, looking sheepish and jolting her back to the present.
“That’s alright. So, what is it
that you wanted to tell me?”
Here goes. He just had to focus on Tracy, tell her about the affair and how he would not go to the media and let it out to the entire world if she gave him the money. Get the money, stay locked in the room until the hotel arranges transport and then get to West Care. As simple as that.
“No, nothing,” he said, mentally kicking himself for being a coward.
“Well, aren’t you a mystery man. I’m starving, want some breakfast?”
“Yes,” Rick said, placing his hand on Regan’s back and leading her to a table.
****
He wiped his mouth and signaled for the dessert. Being tall and thin, he appeared to be weak but his cheeks were pulled in. Dark brown eyes that were almost pushed into his skull made him look anorexic. Appearances are deceptive is not a phrase people used without reason. A chef hurried in with a Hazelnut- Mocha Dacquoise. He cut two huge pieces and served both men seated on either side of the table. The thin man took two huge mouthfuls of the cake and pushed the plate away. He looked back at another man standing at the entrance of the room who hurried forward towards him.
“Did Judge Laurence call?”
“Yes, sir. He said he’ll be here this month to sign the contract. Also, the bank called; they reported that the sixty million has been wired to our account by the Grist Company.”
“The judge said next month? Well, that won’t do, will it? Ask Marc to set up a video conference, I need to remind him about his daughter’s health. Any news about Rick?” he asked.
“No sir. Nothing at all. I tried contacting our men outside who were supposed to keep track of him but it seems they lost him because of the snow. They say he is here somewhere, in the North side.”
Betrayed Page 3