The Intimidation Game (Game Series Book 1)

by C. L Stewart

  “Georgina... eh Gina.” Damn, I can’t believe I gave my Sunday name first. Only my mum uses my full name. I am starting to feel giddy at his touch. Am I a bloody hormonal teenager or a grown woman?

  “Well nice to meet you Gina. I assume you are heading home; would you like a lift?” I look at Steven’s face and his smile is back, softer this time and without an ounce of pity.

  “No, it’s fine, really, I can catch the bus it goes right past my house.” I really don’t think I should accept a lift from a complete stranger. He could be a raving lunatic using his charm and flash car to lure unsuspecting females to his lair.

  “Are you sure? It’s cold and dark and I don’t think my conscience will let me leave you to get home on your own” And there it is, the patronising voice again as if I am a fragile little girl and can’t get myself home. I am not amused.

  “You can drop me at the bus stop and wait till my bus arrives if that makes you feel better.” That’s my compromise. He is a stranger so the bus stop where there are other people about will do nicely. My mind is going into overdrive playing scenarios of me being found chained up in his basement after being tortured to death. I have honestly got to stop watching gory horrors on my own this is getting ridiculous.

  “Good, at least I’ll know you’re safe. This street is a bit creepy when you can’t see into the park, you just never know what strange people are lurking in there.” His smile reaches his eyes. The street is now dimly lit with the orange glow of street lamps but even in this subdued light I can see he is very knicker rippingly gorgeous.

  “Shall we?” He grins hooking out his arm in an ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ fashion. I take his arm and we walk to his car.

  Steven presses a button on the remote and the interior lights up. From where I am standing, I can see the seats are black with bright red stitching. The gear paddle on the steering column is covered in red leather. The luxuriousness of it all has me conjuring up scenes of espionage, car chases and a man who knows how to handle the ladies. The red against black is enchanting, very James Bond-esque. I shake my head and banish those thoughts. ‘Enough,’ I scold myself; ‘you’ve just been to therapy because your husband just died’. Steven opens the door for me; very charming, probably one of his ploys. I smile at my over active imagination.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Oh nothing, I was just admiring your car it’s very nice.”

  “It’s an Ast...

  “Aston Martin, I know it’s actually my dream car.” Damn, as if his head isn’t big enough already. He is smiling like a child who has been locked in a sweet shop overnight. Boys and their toys. Aiden was the same whenever he talked about his bike. That damn death trap that got him killed. With a slight shake of my head I return to the here and now. I get into the car as ladylike as I can in heels and a dress; the seats are so low that I think I may have flashed my knickers slightly. Judging by the look on Steven’s face that is most likely. I blush; thank God it’s dark.

  Removing his overcoat and suit jacket Steven throws them onto the back seat along with his briefcase. He looks even better in his shirt, tie and waistcoat. I feel a familiar sensation between my legs and abruptly squeeze them shut to try and stop it as the car roars to life. I can feel it rumble beneath me and, oh my God, that is just making things worse. I try to find something to distract me and settle on watching Steven press icons on the little touch screen which has magically appeared from the dash board. His iPhone is showing as connected and a multitude of playlists come up on the screen. He selects one named ‘driving music’. The speakers’ spring to life and the car is filled with a beautiful and calming sound. I recognise the soft piano music from various TV ads and programmes. Any man who likes this type of music surely can’t be an axe murderer. ‘Although Hannibal Lector enjoyed his fair share of classical music’. I swear I am going to give myself a stroke.

  “This music is nice,” I whisper; I don’t dare to look at him for fear I may implode.

  “Yeah, great for relaxing you after a hard day.”

  I feel him looking at me and am compelled to turn and face him. He has a boyish grin on his face which is making him look even hotter. I smile involuntarily. Holding my gaze for a moment Steven says: “You have a beautiful smile Gina.”

  Oh bugger, where the hell did that come from? I quickly turn my head away and look out the window again. My face is flushed, not because I didn’t like what he said but because I did. Steven reaches over and puts his fingers on my chin forcing my face back towards him.

  “What’s wrong?” His voice is full of concern, tinged with worry that he may have said something wrong. His touch pulses through my skin. I have to get out of here.

  “My bus will be on its way. Can you please take me to the bus stop?” It comes out all harsh and wrong; I need to keep a clear head. Steven looks wounded at my sudden change in demeanour.

  “Not a problem,” he says dryly. We get to the bus stop in record time and in silence. The purr of the car’s engine and the soft strains of the piano are all we can hear.

  “Thanks for the lift Steven and I’m sorry again for the slap.”

  I give him one last look and before he can say anything I am out of the car and standing in the queue. The other people waiting in line are all gawping at the stunning vehicle I have just alighted. I can see the headlights of the bus approaching and start praying that it will get here before he has the chance to get out and talk to me again. I am a little shocked and disheartened that he doesn’t even look at me, speeding off in a blur. Not even a goodbye wave. Deep down I was hoping he would beg me to get back into the car. What I was hoping would happen after that I don’t know but right now I am reeling at how stupid I have just been. For goodness sake I don’t even know his last name or anything about him except that he drives the most beautiful machine and likes piano music. Oh, and he is seriously hot. He could be one of the strangers waiting for the bus; I probably know more about them. As the bus pulls to a stop I think about that for a moment. The old lady getting on first is a regular. She only travels two stops, but I have spoken to her on a few occasions and I know that her name is Martha. Her husband died twelve years ago, and she has no children or other immediate family. Just her friend down the road and her wee dog. Good God I could be looking at my future looking at her.

  I take my usual seat right at the back. It has started to spit with rain and the windows of the bus are steamy. I can see the outline of a heart with initials in it. It makes me think of being in love as a teenager; little did we know how cruel life and love really is. I am destined to be alone like Martha. I feel like such an idiot. Steven seemed really nice and I blew it because I’m fucked up. I don’t even know if I will ever see him again. Something changes in me at that very moment. It is like a little light has been turned on inside me as I realise that things need to change. Right now, in fact. I get off the bus at the stop next to the train station. The rain has gotten heavier and is now turning to sleet. Oh, winter is definitely here. Inside the station I am faced with that familiar diesel fuel and sulphur smell mixed with coffee and cookies. The overhead display boards show that the train I am looking for is on time and will leave in 12 minutes. Just enough time to get a coffee and head to the platform. As I get closer to the Starbucks kiosk the smell of the freshly ground coffee makes me feel warm inside. I wish coffee could cure everything.

  “Welcome to Starbucks, how can I help you today?” Says the overly happy barista whose badge is telling me she is named Lucia.

  “Skinny Mocha please.” I smile back. “Just a small one thanks.”

  “What’s your name for the order?” She asks holding the iconic white cup in one hand and a Sharpie in the other.

  “Gina.”

  My hands are cold, even inside my gloves, so when she hands me the coffee I am grateful. The steam coming from the little drinking hole is comforting. I can actually feel myself smile. I look at my name on the cup and see that Lucia has put a little heart next to it
with a smiley face inside it; my smile becomes even wider.

  “Have a nice day,” Lucia beams.

  “You too, thanks.”

  I wonder, for a moment, what someone like Lucia would have done in my situation. She looks about 20, a student more than likely, I bet she would never have run for the hills at the drop of a hat; but then would any student? I used to be one, I know what they are like.

  As I make my way to the platform, I pull out my phone and call the one person I know who will make me feel better. The phone is answered on the third ring.

  “Hello?” The voice on the other end makes me feel like I am being wrapped up in a fleece blanket.

  “Hello mum, how are you?”

  “Oh Georgina! How lovely to hear from you. I’m wonderful. Dad is off to pick up some take away because I can’t be bothered cooking tonight and he has some project or something to work on. Oh darling I’ve missed you. How long has it been since I last saw you? Three weeks or longer, my goodness we need to catch up before I forget what you look like. Where are you it sounds busy?”

  That’s my mum, once she starts talking it takes a while for you to get a word in.

  “I’m in the train station mum, just about to get on the train to Bearsden. I was just calling to make sure you were home.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful, I’ll try and catch Dad and get him to bring more food. Is Chinese ok?”

  I try to tell her I am not hungry, but it is in vain, she just keeps going. She mentions something about a new car and my cousin being pregnant before I can eventually get off the phone and get on the train.

  I choose a seat near the doors facing the direction I’m travelling in. I have always felt weird travelling backwards. It is after rush hour now, so the train is not that busy. I pull my earphones out of my pocket and plug them into my iPhone. Shuffling the playlist, I go for a lucky dip. The song that comes on makes me think about earlier today. A song called Runaway: ‘Take your time; don’t go running away from this.’ Yes, that’s what I did, I ran away from something that scared me. It shouldn’t have, but it’s been so long since I felt like that around anyone else that I didn’t know how to handle the situation. Now Steven probably thinks I am a lunatic. You win some, you lose some but losing this one has had an effect on me. I can’t stop thinking about him.

  END OF EXERPT

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  About the Author

  For as long as she can remember, Claire has been a hopeless romantic. She can always be found dreaming up HEA’s for her characters.

  Claire lives with her husband and three children in Lanarkshire, Scotland (bet you’re thinking of rolling hills, castles and men in kilts, Outlander style). Her love of her home city of Glasgow is more than apparent in her books so far.

  If you loved The Intimidation Game and want to keep in touch Claire, would love to hear from you. She can regularly be found on Instagram and Facebook and if you like to get your hands on exclusive material you can join her Facebook reader group, Claire’s Glasgow Kiss and sign up to her newsletter.