by Linda Coles
“Shut the fuck up and drive. Don’t make me have to tell you again.” He pressed the gun into Botham’s thigh.
Botham took the hint and started the engine, pulling out of the dark garage and out into the weak morning light. He tried to look down at the gun, but the man pressed the muzzle in harder.
“Watch the road. You know what this is so don’t make me use it.” He felt Botham quiver slightly and hoped he wouldn’t wet his pants. Some of his victims had, and he hated the smell, but this was only going to be a short journey. He got down to the business he was there for.
“You weren’t very friendly last night. Now you’ll pay for it.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Are you really that stupid? Perhaps you are. They said you weren’t particularly bright. And I’m inclined to agree. Think back, dumbshit.”
A moment passed before Botham spoke. “Really? It’s about the bitch from the office?”
A punch to the side of his head sent the car careering into the other lane for a moment until Botham managed to correct it back to his side of the road.
“There you go again, disrespecting a woman. Not bright.”
“Oh, now I get it. This is my warning to stop, is that it? Who the hell are you, her boyfriend?”
Another blow caught him hard and he winced, closing his eyes for a second as the pain sliced through his skull.
“Do I sound like her boyfriend? I doubt she’d date someone with my particular skills.” He chuckled snidely and noted with satisfaction that Botham swallowed hard. The gym was just visible in the distance now.
“Pull into the car park and park over in the far-right corner, behind the shed.”
Botham obliged and steered the car into the space he’d indicated. “Turn the engine off and stay facing forward. Keep your hands on the steering wheel. If you move, it could get messy. And I don’t like mess.”
William sat po-faced like a naughty child doing as he was told. He felt movement at his side but dared not to look. Then suddenly everything went black as something – a sack? – was placed over his head. He gasped in panic as the smell of damp earth from the sack filled his nostrils. When nothing else happened, he tried to relax a little and keep his wits and bearings. He heard the strike of a match, and the stench of cigarette smoke filled the car. He waited for the man to speak, to find out what was coming next. The smell of smoke became stronger as the man exhaled, and William tried not to cough.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” the man said at length. “Go about your day as usual. Do not under any circumstances speak to, look at, touch, or do anything with Stephanie today or any other day. If we hear of any contact with her whatsoever, your wife will be notified about the little love nest you keep for your extracurricular activities and the women who frequent the place with you. That should lead to quite a nice divorce settlement for her, I should think.” The man took another long drag on his cigarette, and William could just see the red glow of the ember through the woven sacking.
“Okay, I hear you. Can I go now?”
“Not quite. As a little reminder for you, in case you get tempted to digress, I want you to remember our conversation with this.”
The man gave no warning as the cigarette seared the skin on the back of William’s hand; he yelled in pain as the man increased the pressure, stubbing the cigarette out fully on his skin. He clutched his hand, gritting his teeth in pain.
“Now remember what I said or there will be more where that came from, much more. Look at the mark every time you see her, as a reminder of our conversation.”
William heard the car door open, and the man slipped out without another word and shut it quietly behind him.
William sat aghast. What the hell was going on here? First his shoulder, then his shaving, topped off with two blows to the head, a sack over the head and a burn on his hand. He was beginning to feel like Michael Palin in A Fish Called Wanda. All he needed now was a bloody nose.
He sat still, listening, for several more minutes. Finally, hearing nothing, he dared to turn his head. Had his assailant gone? He chanced lifting the sack away from his face and, squinting in the early morning light, looked cautiously around the vehicle. No, he was alone. He climbed gingerly out of the vehicle, cradling his burned hand, headed to the back door of the gym and went inside. While he wasn’t going to work out, he relished the sanctuary the building offered, and he felt his thumping heart begin to slow down. The bright receptionist, his current plaything, smiled coyly at him, but he was in no mood for flirting today. Maybe never again.
“Done?”
“Done. And what a pathetic excuse of a man he turned out to be. Bullies often are. He won’t be any bother now.”
The driver started his engine. “Excellent. Fancy a Sausage McMuffin?”
Taking his balaclava off, Chris replied in a very English accent, “Love one.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
She’d awoken in a strange bed. Chris was lying fast asleep next to her and she palmed her forehead in dismay. Has she really stayed over at Chris’s? And what had happened to him sleeping on the coach? Her head hurt from downing too much wine too quickly, and she jolted back to the events of the evening before.
At work. And what she’d done.
Grimacing, she gently folded the bed linen back and crept out of the room in search of the bathroom. Locking the door behind her for privacy, she examined her face in the mirror and took in the swollen eyes and blotchy skin. She looked like she’d had a good cry, that’s for sure, and she didn’t have any make-up with her. She flopped down on the toilet and took a pee, head in her hands. A light knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts.
“Are you okay in there?” Gentle as ever; he’d always been the perfect gentleman.
“Be out in a minute,” she called back. “I need to get home and changed. I look like hell.”
“Never, but yes, I’ll drop you home. Time for a cuppa first?”
She had no idea what time it was, but if she was late, she didn’t really care anyway. She’d be lucky if she still had a job to go to, but she wasn’t going to stay away completely.
“Please.”
The smell of toast wafted up the stairs and met her on the landing. Her stomach grumbled in appreciation. When Stephanie eventually entered the kitchen, Chris had laid the table with juice and cereal packets.
“You may as well eat here,” he said, busying himself buttering toast. She took a slice. Butter ran close to the crust edges and she licked at it greedily. Chris couldn’t help but notice.
“Thanks for letting me stay last night. What happened to the sofa, though?” Chris smiled. “Relax, we didn’t do anything. You weren’t that out of it.”
Relief relaxed her shoulders a little and she smiled back. “I didn’t think so. I guess we can be two adult friends and sleep in the same bed, can’t we? Others manage it.”
“Well, while I don’t know of any, we managed just fine.” Changing the subject, he asked, “How do you feel about going in to work? Are you alright?”
“I’ll be fine. I might not have a job later this morning, but I’m not staying away. Or I could be answering questions down at the police station, of course.” She chuckled to let him know she wasn’t stressing too much about it. The beating of her heart was another matter, but what was done, was done.
By the time she’d finally got to work, every fibre of her body felt as tight as a stretch band. She stood in the lift taking deep breaths to steady herself for what was probably going to be an unpleasant experience. She’d dressed in a navy-blue pantsuit, the one piece in her wardrobe that she felt invincible in, like Wonder Woman without the cleavage but equally as strong. Last night she’d barely thought about her actions and her brute strength had surprised her, but today she needed all the help she could get, and from wherever. If power dressing was a crutch, then she’d lean on it for all it was worth.
The doors slid open and her booted feet stepped out into the
reception area as she tried her best to ooze confidence and strength. While she looked great on the outside, on the inside she oozed about as much strength as an empty tube of toothpaste. As she made her way to her desk, she chanced a glance to either side of her, expecting either security guards approaching ready to remove her, or at the very least William’s P.A. hot on her heels. But there was no rush from either side – no men in uniform, no demanding P.A. She was surprised, but shrugged it off and carried on to her desk, quickening her pace only slightly.
Mid-morning came and went. Nothing.
Lunch came and went. Still nothing.
Surely mid-afternoon? No, nothing.
End of the day? Ditto.
At precisely 6 pm, Stephanie gathered her things to head out for the evening, still expecting a tap on the shoulder, a summons to his office after hours even, but when his P.A. shouted “Good night!” as she too left for the evening, she finally let herself breathe a little easier. Maybe her attack had done the trick and he’d been too embarrassed to mention it. Maybe he was avoiding her for fear of being stabbed again. Or maybe he just had better things to worry about. Hopefully that would be the end of it.
“Oh well. Whatever,” she mumbled happily as she slipped inside her car and drove home.
The man in the dark corner of the car park sent a message back to the operator. It read “No contact all day. She’s headed home.”
The reply came back. “Perfect. We’ll activate the next part.”
The man pulled out of his hiding spot and stayed within a safe distance of her car. She’d be going out later, though at this point she didn’t know it yet. He knew where she lived, so cars pushing in in front of him as they drove didn’t worry him, and actually made his tail even more natural. He observed as she approached her flat but he carried on past, opting to park further up the road. She wouldn’t be going for at least another hour, so he settled himself in and opened his flask of hot coffee to wait for further instructions.
From his own computer in his own flat, Chris watched as the various points came together on his screen. She was home. He hoped she’d had a rather more pleasant day without the sleaze ball hounding her around every corner. He pressed send on his phone and it connected almost immediately.
“I’m guessing it was all okay today. I didn’t hear from you.” Chris sounded like the caring friend he was.
“It was the weirdest thing,” she replied. “I kept expecting something, a tap on my shoulder, but no, nothing. I’m half wondering if he wasn’t that bothered. Or better yet, maybe I’ve warned him off properly. Maybe that’s it now. I hope so.”
Chris smiled at her optimism. “Well, that’s great I’m pleased for you. I’ve been thinking about it all day but didn’t dare to ring or text. Look, I’ll buy dinner, something casual, then what do you say to a couple of drinks? Nothing heavy, but a bit of a celebration, eh?”
The air went quiet between them as Stephanie was obviously considering his offer. Chris was quick to interject before she could find an excuse. “In fact, let’s go all out and eat at that new champagne bar in town, then drink champagne there! We could dress up nice and be toffs for the night. Sound like fun? I’m buying.”
Her giggles rang in his ear; he’d hit the right spot. “Great! Get your best dress on, then, girl and I’ll meet you in sixty minutes. Is that long enough?”
“Yes. Sounds great. You’re on. I’ll see you in an hour. I’d better get a move on.”
He smiled. She sounded lighter and ready for some fun after her ordeal yesterday, and he was pleased with how things were turning out. He really hoped what was about to happen didn’t upset her too much, but it had to be done. The debt had to be repaid.
Even for the rather lovely Stephanie Michaels.
Chapter Forty
“You look gorgeous as usual, Ms. Michaels. Care to take my arm?”
Chris stood in the doorway smiling broadly at Stephanie, arm proffered for her to take, gentleman style. She linked hers in his, and they set off towards his car, which was parked at the curb. He opened the passenger door and she slid in, careful not to expose too much thigh in his direction. She didn’t want him getting ideas about anything other than friendship. She gave a mock royal wave with her right hand as though she was riding in the golden horse-drawn carriage. In actual fact, she had been poured into his Mini. Top-end model, but still a Mini. She examined her surroundings, taking in the flight deck of clocks and the various knobs and buttons. The leather interior invited her to stroke it.
“What a beautiful interior. Small, but beautiful.”
Chris got in beside her and started the engine. He revved it a couple of times for her benefit. “Listen to that purr. She’s like a big cat.” He gently revved a couple more times, listening himself to the power tucked inside the bijou casing. “Ready?”
“Let’s go!”
And off they drove to the champagne bar that would become their venue for the majority of the evening. There was no need for the tail. Chris knew exactly where she would be tonight: right by his side.
For the time being.
Chapter Forty-One
It was a couple of hours later that he made his approach. Chris had gone to the bathroom, leaving Stephanie alone for a short time at their table, which was his signal to take over. A suave blond-haired male approached the table, a Margarita in each hand. “May I?”
Stephanie looked up from her thoughts, straight into the deepest blue eyes she’d ever seen. For a moment, she didn’t quite know what to say; she felt almost hypnotized as he gazed back, but his smile broke the spell.
“I – I’m with someone tonight, actually,” she stammered.
“I know. He’s just gone to the gents so I thought I’d bring you a drink. I didn’t think you were actually an item together, which is why I’m here.”
She smiled at that. “Oh? What makes you think that?”
“Your body language together. I’ve been watching. You’re just good friends, am I right?” His eyes danced as he teased her and she found herself staring at them again. And blushing. He sat down next to her. “Here,” he said passing her a cocktail glass. “I took a chance on a Margarita. You look like a woman with taste.”
“Are all your chat-up lines so cheesy?”
“I’m afraid they are, and they rarely work, but I live in hope they will tonight.” They both laughed. He put his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m Sebastian, and you are. . .?”
“Stephanie.” She took his hand and they shook gently.
“Well, that has a cheesy ring to it already, doesn’t it? Stephanie and Sebastian. Heavens, it sounds like a posh kids’ store. We’re doomed before our drinks are over!”
Stephanie laughed again and raised her glass. “May as well finish your drink first. No point in wasting it.” Over Sebastian’s shoulder she could see Chris approaching the table, when another woman grabbed his attention. Stephanie watched as the two of them embraced like old friends, hugging and laughing together. Chris pulled free to look her up and down. She suspected he was saying something along the lines of ‘You look great! You’ve not changed one bit.’ She caught his eye and gave a little wave to tell him to carry on; she was fine with the cheesy guy for a while. Chris immediately got the message and acknowledged it with a slight wave back. They were there as friends for the evening after all, not on a date. With Chris busy with his old friend, she turned back to her guest.
“So, Sebastian, tell me. What brings a man like you to a place like this?” She tried her hardest not to giggle but failed miserably, and they threw their heads back in unison.
“I guess two can play cheesy, eh?”
“Oh yes. But seriously, tell me about the man who takes random drinks to random women when they were sitting with another man. What kind of guy does that?”
Over the following couple of hours, Sebastian and Stephanie drank several more Margaritas and several more glasses of champagne while Sebastian filled her in on his life and asked her ques
tions about her own, and they generally got on like peanut butter and jelly on sliced bread.
Chris had stayed with his old friend, giving Stephanie the occasional wave to make sure she was still okay, but he knew she was. It was all part of the plan.
“Let’s go back to mine,” Sebastian said to Stephanie as the witching hour approached.
Stephanie paused to think for a moment, looking across to Chris who was still enjoying himself with the other woman. What the hell – why not?
“Sounds good,” she said, flirting back somewhat drunkenly, and got to her feet.
Once back at his apartment, Sebastian had poured them both a nightcap, then pulled out a little box where he kept his cocaine and cut a little on the dining room table. He turned to Stephanie, passing a glass to her.
“Would you like some, to relax with?” he said, indicating the coke.
Stephanie had never tried the hard stuff in her life and wasn’t about to start now. Taking her wrap off, she made herself comfortable on the sofa, sipping her drink. “Not for me, thanks, but don’t let me stop you.” She kicked her shoes off and lolled her head back. Seconds later, Sebastian was next to her, planting kisses on her neck. She let him, stretching her neck to him for more, enjoying the feeling it gave her. They both knew what was going to happen next.
“Come,” he said, as he pulled her up and guided her to his bedroom. There was no resistance from Stephanie. Even though she had drunk far too much champagne and too many Margaritas, she was still in the mood for Sebastian.
It was sometime after that that things had gone blurry. Had Stephanie not drunk her spiked brandy, she would have been awake when the visitor had knocked an hour later and Sebastian had passed another keycard through the door. She would have felt Sebastian on top of her, and she would have felt the blade nicking the backs of her thighs as he straddled her, watching tiny beads of blood rise to the surface on her glorious legs. She might have even been aware that another man had crept into the room some hours later and severed her hair, leaving it rough and clumpy.