I sniff the flow of fluid running from my nose and rip off some toilet tissue. While dabbing my face, I level out my tousled hair, then apprehensively make my way to the main staircase.
It’s so dark down here. Not one light on. I feel my way to the light switch by the front door, and flick them all on.
My puffy eyes find Adrien. He’s arched over the kitchen island with his shirt open. He knows I’m here. There’s a spotlight shining directly above his head, but he won’t even look at me. It’s impossible right now not to be overemotional. But I have to be direct with him. I need to know where I stand.
I quietly move closer, pulling down the bottom of my shirt because I now feel so exposed near him. I vigilantly place my hand on his back.
“Do you, well, will you say something?”
He turns sharply and I’ve never seen such a look of hatred. The angry streaks around his eyes. His pupils almost black and bottomless. He’s glaring at me full of scorn. And his face, it’s sheet white with a dark rouge over his cheekbones only. I quickly take my hand away and step back, cautious of him.
“Do you feel okay?” He’s still glaring, and now wheezing forcefully. “Adrien!”
His head drops down as his torso expands and deflates great lungful’s of air. Then strangely he calms to a dead silence.
“Adrien, did I do something wrong up there?” I remain still, keeping a safe distance between us.
“No Elizabeth,” his voice is gruff and intimidating.
“Sure doesn’t feel that way to me,” I utter.
He slants his head and I see that he’s cooled off a little. He stares and it flares a lump to form in my neck. I will not cry. I won’t do it, be weak in front of him. I inhale, swallow, and take a step nearer, but he holds out his hand to stop me. He doesn’t want me anywhere near him.
“Please... don’t.” His eyes show pain.
“Is this because of the room?” I gulp down. “Are you embarrassed? Was it something I didn’t do right? You have to tell me, Adrien.” My voice strains with upset.
“The tonic... you took it?”
Okay, what sort of a question was that? I didn’t fall asleep on him. In fact, the whole experience woke me inside and out.
“Well?” he snaps at me.
I drank it before we left the house. I didn’t want to, but did it because he was being so insistent.
My mouth opens and I silence, watching his fingertips gripping the granite worktop. He’s not making any sense to me at all.
“Why is that relevant? What’s in that stuff?”
“Did you take it?” he voices in an irritable manner.
“Shit. Yes I drank it! You need to talk to me, Adrien.”
He growls and walks to the narrow edge of the island, creating more distance between us. He hesitates while I linger in wounded confusion.
“You did everything right, Elizabeth.” His features soften on me. “I have the problem.” He smirks with self-loathing. “You’re intoxicating, and I’m a dangerous addict.”
“Please, explain it to me?” I say quietly.
“Going into that room was a mistake. Shit, maybe all of this is. You’re doing something to me, something that is fucking with my head. You’ve been too persistent.”
“Too persistent,” I squeal. “You invited me here!”
I snap my teeth together, tight. My eyes sting and vision hazes. Why is he being such a dick with me?
“You’re too good for me.” He exhales, lowering his head. “Too good for that room. I can’t give you what you want.”
I feel so hot. My heart is booming hard against my ribs, and I can’t stop flexing my knees. This isn’t like the reaction he usually causes within me. This is fury like I’ve never felt before.
“Bullshit! You’re giving me the excuse all guys do when they freak-out because a woman has displayed a bit of emotion.” I begin to shake as I make a fist. “I don’t want to marry you, live with you, or picture a future of us with kids. I never wanted to take you away from your bachelor businessman status. I enjoy the sex if you must know.” I catch my breath, watching his face harden in shock. “Are you forgetting how fucking persistent you’ve been with me!” I yell and weep simultaneously. “You shouldn’t have bothered.”
“Elizabeth.” He rubs his head.
“It’s Liz!”
A tear escapes down my cheek. I turn my back on him so he doesn’t see it, and hear his bare feet approaching. He lightly wraps his hand around my bicep, but I shrug away from him. He can’t sweet-talk his way out of this. He’s really hurt me.
“Elizabeth.” I close my eyes because his voice sounds almost pleading. “Sorry. I’m not myself. I’m feeling ill and need to rest.”
I glance into his slight eyes. “Fine... you do that then.” I leave him alone and charge to the stairs.
Chapter 17
Adrien
The thick red liquid runs down my throat, and it somewhat eases my mood. But not enough for me to go up those stairs and grovel for forgiveness.
Like a child needs a time out after a tantrum, I need space away from Elizabeth to work out what is happening with me. If it’s love, it’s painful. If it’s the thirst, it’s painful. And if it’s guilt, then yes, also painful. I can’t win, and for the first time in decades, I haven’t got a fucking clue what to do next. I need time, and mercifully I have plenty of it.
I now know why I brought her here, and it disgusts me. I could have taken her anywhere in the world, yet I chose the one place that defines who I am. I mean, it didn’t take much for her to persuade me to go up those damn stairs. I’ve always distanced myself from what my executives do. I don’t need that kind of distraction. Being around Elizabeth, even without the tonic, hasn’t been an issue, until now.
I’m starting to think that Laurie was right. When I first laid eyes on Elizabeth, it was like I had been taken back in time. To a time when I was a carefree man, and matters of the heart were fun and exciting. Can I really pretend that this is okay; that having a normal relationship is perfectly fine, when I am far from normal? All I know is, that she’s in my thoughts day in and day out. She’s found the chink in my armour, and she’s the only one who has warmed my heart. But her safety is paramount to me, and I’m not safe to be around.
Again my cell phone pings on the kitchen island. That’s the seventh message or email. I take my glass into the kitchen, and swill beneath the tap to rid the evidence of my true diet.
I slam down my glass, and reach for my bottle of Chivas Regal Royal Salute 50. I’ve consumed half already, not caring anymore about the rarity of it. I thought it might help clear my head and relax me. But so far, it’s done nothing. For the price tag, I expected more, but it’s just like any other bottle of whiskey.
I pour a drink while at the same time sliding my cell phone toward me. I turn on the backlight to see Sara’s name flashing. I knew it. I just knew that she’d have something to whine about. Probably Laurie. Though she knows not to disturb me. She has always been an excellent PA. Perhaps I should call her back. I take my cell phone and drink, and head back to the sofa.
I stop in my tracks, my head turning to the windows, feeling a rumble beneath my feet as a light floods through the room. I squint, identifying the sound immediately. Someone is landing a fucking helicopter behind the gardens. It’s Laurie. He’s the only one who has been given that kind of resource while I’m away. I’m fucking furious. Elizabeth is upstairs, probably not sleeping because I’ve been an asshole, and now my work has followed me here. The last thing I need is more of Elizabeth’s curiosity.
I slide open the glass doors, and race across the garden. I peer up to the bedroom windows scanning for Elizabeth. Thankfully she’s not there, so I clear the high wall in one single leap.
The propellers die down as Laurie emerges from the helicopter. He alters his jacket in the breeze and with his head down he approaches me. But I’m in no frame of mind to see him. He knows me well, and knows that showing up here is a big mi
stake. I grab his collar before he has time to speak, lift him, and slam him down onto the ground.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I crouch down in his face.
He pushes me away with ease, as we are the same build, and of the same origin. But I grab him again as he stands up.
“You’re wasted,” he says. “Calm down. I’m here because it’s my job. You know, you fucking gave it to me!”
I release him, thrusting him back as I step away. “Tell me Laurie, is the world about to end?”
“No. But we could be teetering on conflict.” He sweeps his hand down his rumpled shirt.
“And whatever it is, it couldn’t wait?”
“There’s been a problem with the Manchester shipment.” He takes his cell phone out from his pocket and comes to stand before me. “Sara has been trying to call you. Told me that she would be able to deal with it. All because she didn’t want to see me. Anyhow, I was sent this today.”
I take his cell phone and peer down at the screen. There’s a picture of a male, dead and forming at the mouth.
“What is this?”
“They’re saying we tainted one of the batches in the shipment. But I just think it was from a bad source.” Laurie slides his cell phone back into his jacket pocket. “I wanted you to be aware. I’m going to Manchester for talks. I took a detour to explain the situation to you, so you’re not hit with it when you get back.”
“Jesus, I haven’t even been gone for forty-eight hours, Laurie!”
“It’s under control. You know what they get like in Manchester. Any excuse to widen the divide.”
I pace up and down, glancing back to the house. “Go home Laurie. I will deal with Manchester when I return.”
“But your trip?” he queries.
“This trip is over.”
“Really?” He cocks his head. “Adrien, I can fix this.”
I growl, still pacing, trying to think through the pounding pain in my head. “I gave you an order, Laurie.”
“I shouldn’t have come. You know I’m capable of sorting this out.”
“This trip, this talk, is over. Go back to London.” I eyeball him, waiting for him to go, but he just stands there.
I know what’s coming, interference in my personal life. He will call it friendship and concern, but I call it, being a nosy dick.
“Is Elizabeth okay?” he asks, much to my annoyance.
“If you’re wondering if she’s still breathing, then yes she is. Now fuck-off back to London Laurie.” I turn my back and swiftly make my way to the back gate.
“I’ll see you back in London then,” Laurie calls out angrily, as the helicopter propellers start up again.
I thought I was the master of silence, creeping, prowling, whatever you’d call an individual with speed and strength no human can obtain. But dammit, Elizabeth is standing on the bottom step, watching me sliding the doors shut.
“Who was that?” she asks, but I can’t look at her.
I stroll into the kitchen, pour myself a drink, and hear her gasp. I raise my eyes. She’s looking at the label on the bottle, shocked.
“It was work. You should get some sleep,” I say and take a swig, while rubbing my aching head.
“I can’t.” Her voice is so fragile and soft.
“Please,” I beg her. “I just need some head room.”
“Are you going to come up?”
I sneer down at my glass. “Yes. Soon. I have some work to do. Look, it’s three in the morning. Just at least try and get some sleep.”
I’m lying to her. My head feels like it’s going to explode around her right now. And I probably have a ton of correspondence to answer, to put those who rely on me at ease. I don’t have the patience to lie beside her and pretend to sleep. Not tonight.
“You enjoy your expensive whiskey then.” She climbs the stairs. “And try not to choke on it,” she adds in a volume no human ear can detect, but I heard it loud and clear.
Chapter 18
Elizabeth
Daylight beams through a small gap in the heavy lined curtains. I haven’t slept at all. I’ve spent the night alone, waiting, but he never came. The fall-out has made me question my own self-respect. Did I throw it away, just for amazing sex with a hot rich man? A man who can wrap me around his little finger, because he can make my body feel divine? He told me to jump, and I literally did. One hundred and forty meters down into a black gorge to be precise.
I heave up my skinny jeans, pull on my boots, and sit on the bed. I’m dreading the thought of leaving this room to face him. The mood in this house is so tense it’s making me feel sick.
After putting it off, I mustered up the courage, and now I’m walking by the front door. It’s really dark down here to say it’s just turned noon. All curtains are drawn, and the darkening tint is still over the window panels at the back of the house.
I pop my head around the corner to look into the kitchen. Perhaps his mood has changed, and he’s doing what he did for me yesterday. Making me breakfast, all smiles and carefree. But he’s not there. There are no delicious odours or naked flesh to be seen today. Just the mess he made remains.
I stroll by the island and open the fridge. There’s only a small drop of milk left. It’s a day out of date, so I sniff it. It smells fine. Good enough to take the bitterness away from a black coffee anyway.
I place the milk carton next to the kettle when I hear a rough out-breath from the couch. With a quiver in my gut, I turn to see the back of Adrien’s head. He’s sitting in the dark, holding his iPad.
Okay, so he’s clearly pretending I don’t exist. That’s it. I’m going to act fine with this. I’m not going to let him drive me crazy, and I’m not going to let him play stupid mind games with my heart. I’m in a strange town, hundreds of miles from home, and I can’t just storm out of here and tell him to go to hell. So this is how I see it; I have to keep my shit together and not fall apart.
I approach his back, and still he doesn’t move. Just as I’m about to speak, his phone starts to ring. He grumbles, tosses his iPad on the couch, and stands up. He looks at the screen of his phone, then to me for a second only. My nose crinkles up at the sight of him. Not only has he been sitting here in the dark, but he’s also wearing his shades again.
I clam up, feeling unwelcome, unwanted, and foolish, as he answers his phone, turning away with a bitter flash in his eyes.
“Sara,” he almost yells. “That bad batch must have been tampered with in Manchester. Every single one gets the once over. So someone has fucked with it at the preservation centre.” He paces furiously, and points in mid-air. “I want the names of all those who had access. Anyone who used their key card to get into that facility will be on record.” He listens to the receiver, fleeting a glance at me as I stand here like some stupid spare part. “Sara, I don’t give a shit about the sange pentru, or the vigore. I’ll deal with this myself!” He disconnects the call in a temper.
Oh crap. Is he going to turn on me now? I wait like a kid in the headmaster’s office, afraid to say a word in-case my head gets bitten off. He groans out an annoyed breath, and drops back down onto the sofa with his head in his hands.
“Elizabeth, will you sort out your things. We have to leave.”
“Is everything okay?” I cringe asking.
“It’s work stuff. Look, I’m in no mood for fuss. I have a migraine, and our plane leaves in two hours,” he grumbles. “So please, get your things in order.”
Well, I was right. I did throw away my self-respect. I’ll do as he asks. I need to get home, the sooner the better.
I WAIT BY THE CAR WITH my suitcase as Adrien stomps through the fine drizzle, wearing shades, with his black hood over his head like he’s in disguise. He opens the driver’s side, so I swiftly dash to the boot and plonk my case inside. Now, where do I sit? I don’t particularly want to sit next to him, or in the back. I hover for a moment, telling myself to just pick a damn seat.
I open the back and hop inside,
slamming the door hard. He observes me through the rear-view mirror as I pull over my belt. All I get is a nod of his head in a huff of irritation as he sets off.
Never in my life have I felt so redundant and used. It’s taking all my energy to hold back the tears. Not one word he’s spoken to me. He’s simply not bothered about what’s happened between us at all. He’s had his way with me, and is done. I wish I could be more like Cate, grow some balls and tell him what a complete dick he is. If it were her in this fucked up situation, she would have smashed up this car real good back in Killiecrankie. But I can’t be like that with him. He’s taken a piece of my heart and I need it back off him.
We arrive at the airport after a white knuckle journey. I’m surprised we got here at all; he drove like a complete maniac. I had to close my eyes several times, and really wanted to scream at him to stop. But I was strong and held my tongue. We’re not on talking terms right now, and I want him to know how pissed-off I am.
The airport staff flap around us because we’re late and have messed up air traffic control. Any normal passenger would have to book another flight. But if you’ve got millions in the bank, you can basically buy time.
I walk through the metal detector, this time remembering to put my troll and keys into the plastic tub.
I wait by one of the assistants as Adrien goes through. It beeps, and the look he’s giving the security guard is not a nice one.
“Sir, you need to empty your pockets and remove any metal items. Place them in this box,” the guard says.
“Are you kidding me! I don’t have time for this.” Wow, he’s so grouchy it’s galling.
He digs deep into his grey jogging bottoms, and lobs his keys with some loose change into the plastic tub. I don’t know why he’s being so aggressive about it. He should be used to taking these trips via flight. It’s just standard protocol. The poor security guard doesn’t know what to do with himself.
He storms through the gate again, and again it beeps. I rub my eyes. I’m so tired, and his crankiness is rubbing off onto me.
The Executive's Red, #1 Page 18