Job done, the men became more animated and moved closer to Colin, who they had not yet observed.
‘Wow, that gear is blinding,’ stated one of the youths.
‘The best in town,’ confirmed his partner.
‘We could do with some more if we are going to that party.’
‘I’ve already told you, I’m almost skint.’
‘It’s a bastard, ain't it.’
Both men continued to shuffle forwards in silence. One of the youths stood on Colin’s body and tripped forwards.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ he called out in shock.
Both men stood around Colin as he propped himself up.
‘Alright, lads? You OK?’
‘Yeah, fine. What you doing down there?’
‘I sleep here, mate.’
Both men cast a curious look at each other. The older guy sneered.
‘You got any money?’
In an attempt to lighten the rapidly shrinking mood, Colin replied, ‘I should be asking you that.’
High as kites, they both failed to appreciate the intended humour. Instead, they looked down at Colin with menace.
‘I said, have you got any fucking money?’
‘Not a fucking penny. Jog on, guys, will you?’
Colin knew the situation was at a knife-edge and could swing either way. There was no way he was going to cower in front of these toerags, he thought to himself.
The mouthpiece of the pair lashed out with his boot. Prepared, Colin caught it with both hands and pushed him back into the alleyway, springing up from his sleeping bag like a tiger.
‘Look, guys, just leave it, will you? No harm is done.’ Last chance, spoken controlled, unthreatening.
The youth, pumped up on coke, mistakenly thought he was invincible. He pulled a small knife from his back pocket, opening it to reveal a shiny unused blade. He advanced cautiously towards Colin, who watched every step, positioning himself on the balls of his feet, ready and waiting.
As his attacker lunged, knife held outstretched, Colin sidestepped to the right parrying the sharp blade away from his body. Grasping his attacker's arm, he drove his knee up with force, sending the knife tumbling to the floor. His attacker cried out, a mixture of pain, shock and frustration. Without giving the attacker time to react, Colin swept his feet away in a basic judo move and flung him over his hips to the ground. The attacker’s eyes were wide open with fear as Colin leant forwards, poised to deliver a fatal blow.
Blindsided, Colin failed to observe the second attacker approach him from behind, having picked up a half-brick discarded on the pathway. In the split second before his legs gave way, Colin knew he was in trouble as a world of pain erupted in his head out of nowhere.
Stars flashed in front of Colin’s eyes as he lay on the cold pavement dazed from the impact. His attackers wasted little time and beat a hasty retreat back into the shadows.
The pounding in his skull increased, sending tremors of nausea through his entire body. Unable to move, he forced his eyes open and once the blur eventually disappeared and his vision had steadied, he watched on as a shiny brand-new black Mercedes silently pulled up close to the curbside. From where he lay, only inches away, all he could see was the black tyre tread as the handbrake was applied, and the engine turned off.
The door slammed shut, the bang going off in Colin’s head like a gunshot. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching. A woman wearing high heels by the sound of the light click-clacking. There was an uncanny pause which left Colin feeling exposed and vulnerable.
Suddenly, from nowhere, jolting Colin back into reality, two strong hands gripped his shoulders and turned him over as if he was nothing more than a rag doll. Colin gritted his teeth. When he reopened his eyes, he found himself gazing upon an angel looking down at him with sorrow in her beautiful eyes.
His eyes became heavy, and he could do nothing to prevent them from closing. He could hear talking in the background, foggy, distant, but had no idea if he was still awake or if he was already dreaming.
‘Are you sure that’s our man?’ Guttural sounding, close by, spoken harshly and loaded with contempt by a man Colin could not see.
‘That’s our man. Specimen One. Get him into the car.’ This time the words were spoken with authority, presumably by the woman wearing the heels, thought Colin.
As Colin slipped into unconsciousness, one thought occupied his mind.
‘Specimen One?’
Chapter 7
He knew he was running, but from who or to where, Colin had no clue. The door which he sensed would grant his release, moved further and further back as he ran. Even though his legs were pumping fast, his speed was frustratingly slow, heavy in the ground below which threatened to swallow him like quicksand. Disappointment and anger wracked his mind as the door again retreated into the tunnel of light just as he was within millimetres of grabbing the handle.
His body tossed and turned as he tried to shut out the voices around. Some mocking, some caring and others threatening. ‘You’re weak,’ ‘It's nearly over Colin,’ ‘You’re going to pay for your sins.’
Colin found himself lying in a room that was so light it was blinding. Faces appeared, concerned. They glanced down but were instantly replaced, forced aside, by the laughing face of an old warty faced matron dressed in a pristine white starched uniform, her hat pinned to her hair. Colin became fixated with a hairy mole on her chin. He watched on as she held up a needle and hollered like an escaped lunatic as she waved the thin tip in front of his eyes.
Colin tried to move but found himself trapped, held secure by an unseen force. Unable to close his eyes, he was forced to look away as the needle was jammed into his arm. He felt nothing but watched on as a thin watery jet of blood sprayed across his range of vision, staining his gown with its spatter.
A drip was inserted into his vein; Colin yelped as he saw a fresh heart beating inside the fluid bag. Steadily pumping out blood, feeding his body, as the loose skin of the valve flapped around in the viscous fluid. Colin looked down and saw a gaping hole in his chest where his heart had once been.
Colin screamed. Just the once at first, then again. It felt good. His fear receded slightly, so he screamed again more loudly and franticly until he found himself screaming non-stop at the top of his voice. He felt a cold towel being placed on his head; the relief was instant. Gentle hands ran through his hair. Then he felt nothing, only the weightlessness of sleep.
#
Colin surfaced and found himself lying in a double bed with fresh, clean sheets wrapped loosely around his body. He made to stand but was prevented from moving by a concoction of wires and drips connected to his arm and body. Cables and tubes ran neatly to the side of the bed, connected to a multitude of medical equipment. This small effort drained him and he flopped back down into the soft pillow, staring up at the ceiling until he heard a door open.
For the second time, Colin found himself gazing up into the eyes of his angel. In daylight, she looked even more stunning. She had high cheekbones and the smallest of lips; the faint touch of cherry lipstick that had been applied begged to be kissed. Her shoulder-length hair, brunette, was cut into a tidy bob and tucked behind her ears emphasising her streamlined jawbone.
She introduced herself in a low calming voice.
‘Hi, Colin. My name is Charlotte.’
‘Am I in a hospital?’ asked Colin.
‘Not really. No.’
‘Are you a nurse?’ Colin enquired further.
Charlotte stifled a laugh. ‘No, but you have an excellent medical team around you.’
Colin had a million questions buzzing around inside his head, but his thought process was fragile, and the simplest of mental tasks drained him. He closed his eyes in frustration, balling his fists by his sides.
Another woman appeared, older than Charlotte. Dressed in a nurse’s uniform but there was no hat pinned to her hair like the nurse in his dream. She smile
d politely then busied herself out of view.
‘This is nurse Drury,’ Charlotte explained. ‘She will be looking after you and taking care of your needs.’
Nurse Drury reappeared, holding a syringe in her hand.
‘You had a traumatic time, Colin. You need more sleep. We will talk more tomorrow when you wake up.’
Even before the needle was inserted into his vein, Colin had drifted off into another deep sleep. Another fight with his demons.
#
Colin was wide awake the following morning when Charlotte strode into his bedroom. He had positioned himself upright and manhandled all the tubes and cables out of the way so that he could sit on the side of the bed and allow his feet to rest on the plush carpet.
There were no windows in the room, only artificial light was available, shining down through spotlights fixed into the recess of the ceiling. The room was expensive looking but sparse. There was no TV, only a large Banksy print hanging from one wall. To Colin, the print of the lone girl releasing a red balloon up into the sky was an original. It looked too professional to be fake and the frame alone looked to be worth hundreds. A leather couch was positioned opposite the print. Apart from that, the room resembled any other high-end hotel that could be found around the world.
Charlotte was wearing a classic black Armani two-piece with black heels. She smiled as Colin looked up.
‘How you feeling now, Colin?’ She asked.
‘Err … OK … I guess,’
She walked over to the side of the bed and casually read his notes from the day, nodding in approval.
‘You be pleased to know we are going to remove your feeding tube tomorrow. You can look forward to some proper food.’
Colin looked up and asked, ‘Where am I?’
‘You’re safe. You’re in my house, and a medical team is looking after you.’
‘But why?’
‘When we found you that night we had no idea who you were. We only knew that you needed medical help. We found your release papers in your wallet and realised that you were another struggling ex-serviceman needing help.’
‘I still don't understand.’
‘My older brother came back from Iraq a changed man. He took his own life. It’s a sad story and maybe I will tell you one day. I knew if you went to the hospital you would not get the treatment you required. Yes, it’s probably wrong and for the benefit of my own conscience but I can afford it. Have a rest and think things over. You can leave any time you want.’
Tiredness crept over Colin, and he started drifting off. Charlotte left the room. Once she was gone, Colin forced himself awake and checked the cabinet closest to his bed. His money was all there but his clothes were missing.
#
It was late in the evening the following day when Charlotte burst into his room in a flurry. He was starving, having been taken off the drip earlier that morning.
‘Sorry I’m late. I got caught up at work.’
Tonight she was wearing a cream silk dress that stopped short just above her knees. Again, her look was completed with matching heels.
She approached his bed where Colin was sitting propped up with pillows behind his back.
‘Do you mind if I sit on the edge of the bed?’ Charlotte asked.
Without waiting for a response, she sat down next to him. Her dress rode up, revealing slender legs. Her scent hovered over him, awakening senses and feelings he had not experienced for a long time. His heart fluttered slightly and his pulse picked up speed, registering a beep from the monitor that he was hooked up to.
Colin noticed a discreet golden D&G label on the hem of her dress.
She gave him a soft smile and her eyes glinted. She took his hand in her and rubbed his palm softly, teasing his skin with her long nails. Shivers travelled through his entire body.
‘I’m pleased you’re feeling better, Colin. You have been through such a horrific journey. I hope to make everything better for you … if you will allow me to, that is.’
Colin thanked her, but before he could bombard her with questions, questions that he had been planning all day to ask, she stood up and leant down, kissing him lightly on the lips. Colin could taste her lipstick and his heart tightened.
Charlotte broke free from the kiss and stepped away from Colin’s bed. She let her dress fall to the floor and stepped forwards revealing sheer white panties and matching bra. The bra struggled to contain her tanned rounded breasts and hardened nipples poked through the translucent material. Her panties were tiny, giving Colin a tantalising glimpse of her shaven beauty. Colin felt himself harden as he took all this in.
She gently stroked his erection, now clearly visible, protruding through the thin sheet covering his modesty.
Charlotte looked at Colin with a glint in her eye.
'I want you to fuck me hard, Colin.'
She left a seductive pause then whispered in his ear.
'As if your life depends on it.'
Chapter 8
For Colin, the rest of the week was surreal. During the day Colin was monitored around the clock and attached to a drip which made the days long and boring. Bags of different coloured fluids were repeatedly changed. His temperature, blood test results and umpteen different types of monitored readings were recorded hourly. His medical file began to bulge in no time at all. He tried once to snatch a glance at what was noted down but was sternly put in his place by the eagle-eyed and protective Nurse Drury.
At night he would join Charlotte for dinner. Charlotte never returned home at what Chris would call a normal time; often it was closer to nine before she waltzed through the door. Colin was always pleased for her company and ravenous for food. Dinner was always the best cut of meat or the finest fish, washed down with a bottle of expensive wine that Colin could only guess the cost of. Who cooked the dinner? Colin never knew, but every time he was led from his bedroom into the lavish kitchen, the food was already prepared and served. Nice for some, he thought.
After dinner, as regular as clockwork, the couple would retreat to Colin’s bedroom. Here, the new couple would engage in the wildest and most frantic sex sessions imaginable. In bed kissing, Charlotte would ask in her most sensual of voices for stories from his time spent in the army. Colin was reluctant at first to share his history. For him it was private and he had always maintained the maximum respect for the dead. But Charlotte would insist, probing and begging, to the point where he just gave up and told her what she so desperately craved to hear. He soon came to realise that the bloodier the battle or the more savage the tale, the quicker Charlotte would transform into a woman possessed. These tales, tales that would most certainly shock or sadden any other normal woman, would instead turn her into a wild nymphomaniac. Charlotte would become a dominant sex machine, desperate for satisfaction. Bites and scratches would be administered like kisses and cuddles.
Once they were both satisfied, Charlotte would leave Colin’s side. Scurrying back to her own room under the cover of darkness while he slept, it was as if Colin was her forbidden pleasure.
On Friday, Colin woke haze-free for the first time that week. Nurse Drury was leant over him removing the last of the needles and monitors. After wheeling out the medical equipment she left his room without a word, leaving Colin alone, lying in his bed feeling fresher than he had ever felt before.
As he lay, absorbing everything in silence, he noticed a single-page note on his bedside cabinet. He reached over to read it. It was from Charlotte. The doctor had given him the all-clear and to celebrate they were going to her favourite club. He was to be washed and ready for six-thirty; a new suit had been bought for him and was hanging up in his wardrobe.
Colin chilled for most of the day then at four he took a bath in the huge marble tub. Relaxing in the bubbles Colin decided to play the game out. If, by Monday, things still didn't feel right he would be off. Penniless and homeless, Colin did not consider himself a good catch. Surely not for the high-
class Charlotte anyway. Nope, he thought, there was more to Charlotte than she was letting on. Only time would tell.
The suit, a single-breasted, navy blue, Hugo Boss classic, fitted him to perfection. Measurements must have been taken when he was medicated. A crisp white shirt and polished black brogues completed the look. Looking amazing but feeling extremely awkward, Colin was ready when Charlotte's driver collected him.
Chapter 9
Colin only had to wait a few minutes outside the wine bar where he had been dropped off before Charlotte turned up. Arriving in the back of a Bentley, she stepped out onto the street looking drop-dead gorgeous. As she strode towards him with a coy smile on her face, Colin took in the black leather jumpsuit that she was wearing. It fitted her like body paint and showed the perfect cut of her toned figure. With an open V at the top, her breasts jutted out just enough to be considered erotic as opposed to slutty. This was no doubt the desired effect that Charlotte had aimed for when she had originally chosen the outfit. She kissed Colin on the lips as he mentally averted his eyes.
‘Hey, soldier boy,’ she teased, ‘you look fit tonight.’
‘Not as fit as you,’ he replied, putting his arm around her waist and leading her towards the wine bar, all too aware of the amorous glances she was receiving from the men on the street.
The door opened to reveal an eighties-style wine bar. Tall chrome and leather-backed bar stools were evenly spaced out along the granite bar. The wooden floor was worn but polished. Wooden shelves, positioned on the rear wall, displayed wines from around the world. Oak barrels were stood upright and dotted around the room, serving as tables. The bar was empty. A light breeze entered through the door, swirling around the tables. A student-looking barman in his late teens stood behind the bar, bored out of his mind and glued to his phone. He looked up, hopeful when he heard them enter but looked back down once again as soon as he recognised Charlotte.
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