by Lucy Wild
Stepping through the window, I listened. TV playing somewhere to the left. I headed that way.
I had climbed into a library, leather bound tomes stretching from floor to ceiling. Beyond that was a hallway filled with vases on stands, framed paintings on the wall. A door opened and another butler wannabe appeared. Before he got his mouth open, I got him down on the floor, not letting go of my grip on his neck until he was asleep as the first one.
I turned a corner and there was an open door. The sound of the TV was louder here. I walked in slowly. Facing away from me, a man was sat watching the news, laughing loudly. The news was in French. I saw footage of the hotel I'd so recently left.
"Enjoying the show?"
The man jolted around, his face a mixture of panic and confusion. "Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?"
He reached for something but I got to his hand before it could hit the button on the low table in front of him. "Stay still," I said. "I won't hurt you if you tell me what I need to know."
"Are you...are you the new guy?" He nodded towards the TV.
"Tell me everything you know about Mr Sharp."
"Who?"
I pulled out the paper I'd brought back from the hotel, waving it in front of his face. "Don't bullshit me. I can be gone in a minute if you talk. Help me out."
No point threatening him. I could tell already he'd be the type to clam up and then I'd have to spend all day finding out what he might hand over straight away if I played this right.
"Talk to me about Dexter. Why did you want him dead?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Just watching the news?"
"No law against that is there?"
"No but there is a law against hiring a hitman to kill someone for you."
"You've no proof-"
"I did it, Mr Hartman. Now why did you want Dexter dead." I lowered my voice just enough to show him what was waiting if he didn't co-operate.
"I wanted to buy Sharp's restaurant chain."
"How did that involve Dexter?"
"Sharp told me he wouldn't sell, said his accountant wouldn't let him."
"And Dexter was his accountant, right?"
He nodded. "I thought it would send him a message, you know? Encourage him to change his mind."
"So you've seen Mr Sharp recently then?"
"A couple of weeks ago."
"At his place?"
"Yes, all right. Now what is this about? Did he send you? If he doesn't want me to buy, I won't all right. It's not worth the stress. Tell him I'm sorry about Dexter. I knew I shouldn't have done this, oh God, what have I done?"
He looked on the verge of tears. "Lower your voice," I said.
"Sorry, I'm sorry."
"You're going to give me Mr Sharp's address."
"Of course. Look, here." He scribbled it on the corner of my clipboard. "Okay, we're good, right?"
"We're good." I headed for the door.
He called after me. "Is this about the girl? Because I can get you better ones, trust me."
"What girl?"
"The girl at his place. Was she your girlfriend or something? That's why you're after him, isn't it. Take my advice, let her go. Let me hook you up instead."
I turned back, my fists slowly clenching.
"What did she look like?"
"I don't know. Blonde hair, green eyes. Tiny tits. Listen, no woman is worth this much trouble."
"She is," I said, pulling out my gun.
"Wait, you said you wouldn't hurt me. You promised."
"You're right, I said I wouldn't hurt you." I pulled the trigger. "I never said I wouldn't kill you."
THIRTEEN - JOHN
"She's alive."
William looked up from his book, seeing the wild eyed expression on my face. "Calm down, John. Who's alive? What are you talking about?"
I threw the clipboard across to him. "She's alive and she's at that address."
I explained quickly what I'd found out from my visit to Benjamin Hartman. "I need to get her out."
"I know you do but hang on, let's think about this."
"No. She's alive. I can't believe she's alive and she's been stuck in that hell for the last decade and I didn't know. I was waiting for you to let me go and you never did and if I had I might-"
"Sit," he said, raising his voice. He pointed at a chair. "Now."
I sat, tapping my foot impatiently on the floor.
"I know you're angry but you can't just move without thinking. Have you forgotten everything I've taught you?"
"You don't get it. I thought she was dead but she isn't. I don't want to leave her there for another minute. I need to save her."
"And you will but these things need planning. Remember what happened last time you just waltzed in. You ended up with the fishes, John."
"I'm not waiting."
"Yes you are. You're going to wait while we check the place out together."
"You mean you're going to help me?"
"Don't get me wrong, I think this is a bad idea. You're going in blind against one of the biggest crooks in the country. But if you're going to have any chance of surviving, you're going to need my help."
"What have you got in mind?"
"Sharp hates me with a passion. He's had his feelers out for me for a while now but I've kept on top of them. I say I let the next one slip by, not too obviously, let one of his men see me somewhere public. He'll not be able to resist coming after the bait. While he's chasing after me, you get in and get her out. Now let's find the plans for the house, bring me the laptop."
We had the bones of a plan by the end of the day. Twice he had to remind me to focus but it was impossible.
She was alive.
All this time, I'd been planning revenge in her memory and she was alive. I had no idea what that flare was in the window as I was falling, maybe Sharp had fired after me instead of at her. I churned inside at the thought of what she'd had to put up with all these years. Was she still in chains? Had she forgotten me? That was the worst fear. That she wouldn't remember who I was.
I could only wait to find out and waiting was not easy. William went over the layout of the alarms for the third time while I loaded and unloaded my gun, desperate to get moving. Finally, just after midnight, he decided we were ready.
"There's an all night greasy spoon not far from there," he said as he climbed into his coat. "We'll split the street before. Watch for him coming out."
"You sure this will work?"
"People are predictable, John, you should know that."
Twenty minutes later, we climbed out of a cab and split up. He walked towards the cafe without another word. I moved quietly through the streets until I was outside the building he was in. It was a glass and concrete block of luxury apartments. He was on floor seven. I waited opposite the entrance, standing in the shadows, looking up at the windows. Was she in there?
I had spent so long thinking she was dead, it was hard to adjust to knowing she was alive. I wanted to hold her in my arms, tell her it would be okay, that I'd never let anyone hurt her again. But I couldn't do that until he came out of the door.
When he did emerge, I had to resist running over and tearing him apart. Ten years of training kept that in check. I knew that with that number of bodyguards with him, I wouldn't stand a chance. They'd gun me down before I was even across the street and no amount of training would prevent that.
So I kept still, biting my lip so hard it bled in order to keep from screaming abuse at him. He had that smug smile that I'd seen last time. He'd put on some weight and his hair was thinning but it was definitely him.
The entourage got into one car and he got into another, one man going with him. The vehicles moved off down the street. I counted five silently in my head to be sure they were gone before making my move.
It was a basic swipecard access to the lobby. The skeleton card William had given me before I went to Paris did its work. The door opened and then I was running for the stair
well.
No one was guarding anything. Why would they? It was just a block of flats. I got to the seventh and stepped out into a corridor. There were two doors, one on the left, nothing to do with him. The one on the right, that was it. She was behind there, I just knew it.
I used the swipecard again and the door slid open. I counted three guards sitting around but they were too slow. I got a shot in the first one before he even noticed the door was open. He slumped down on the sofa, head sagging forwards. The second made as if to cry out but he was down a second later. The third had time to pull his gun but he didn't get off a shot. He was face down on the floor a second later.
I listened hard. Someone else, in the bedroom. I crossed the floor and pushed the door open and then I stopped dead.
There she was.
She didn't look at me. She was too scared. She had a black eye that I could see under the hair that covered her face. She was in a nightgown, her arms and legs slender, bruises covering them. She looked weak. "Rebecca?"
She glanced up at me and there were those sparkling green eyes. The light had faded from them but it was still her. She was alive. It was impossible to believe. She was standing in front of me.
"Come on," I said, crossing the floor and reaching out to take her hand. "We need to get out of here."
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice weak.
"Don't you remember?" I reached into my pocket and brought out the necklace, holding it out towards her.
"John?" she said, brushing her hair from her eyes. "Is that you?"
FOURTEEN - REBECCA
We ran away together.
The years fell away from the moment I saw him. I couldn't believe it was really him. I'd dreamed so often that he would save me and there he was. I was sure I was imagining it. Then he showed me the necklace and I knew the truth. He really was there.
I knew then that I loved him. I could see in his eyes how he felt about me. They were eyes filled with warmth and affection, something I'd only ever seen when with him.
"Let's go," he said, taking my hand and running for the door. My hand in his. It was impossible but it was really happening. All those years of waiting and hoping and it was happening. We were together.
Outside, he took me along a narrow alleyway and then to a back street before we slowed to a walking pace. "Where are we going?" I asked.
"To meet someone," he replied. "A friend of mine."
But when we got to a cafe, he stopped, looking in through the window and then turning to me and saying, "Run."
We sprinted away, me wondering what on earth was going on. Only when we were inside his car two streets away did he calm down, though he looked furious and upset in equal measure. "What is it?" I asked. "What's the matter?"
"They killed him," he replied. "They killed William."
"Who's William?"
He explained it all to me as he drove, how he'd been taken under the wing of William Adams, how he'd been trained, how he'd become the man he was because of him, how he was now dead. The police had been at the cafe, if we'd been found there, the likelihood was he'd be taken in and I'd be alone again, at risk of being picked up any time. Sharp had killed William, he knew that without a shadow of a doubt.
We talked all day as we headed away from the city. He told me everything he'd done, how he'd been rescued from the river, his life afterwards, the people he'd killed, the places he'd been, how he was forever waiting for permission to come and find me, how his mentor had withheld it from him until he finally got word of where I was.
For my part, I told him little about my life, but what I did tell him was enough to make him furious.
He wanted to kill Sharp, go back and make him pay for what he'd done to me. I told him the police would be watching, no doubt tipped off by him. I persuaded him to run away with me. What mattered to me wasn't revenge, it was getting away, it was being with him. I drank in his image, gloried in each word he spoke, happier than I had ever felt.
It wasn't just because I was free. It was because I was with him.
FIFTEEN - JOHN
We'd be separating in the morning for the last time. I'd never let her out of my sight again. George had been able to book us tickets to Prague but the short notice meant we weren't flying together. I hated the thought of being parted from her but I told myself it would be the very last time.
"I'll be waiting for you when you land," I told her as I put the tickets down on the bedside table. "Then we start our new life."
"Our new life," she echoed back to me, as if she wasn't sure what the words meant. "Will we really be safe there?"
"At least for a while. George is going to keep in touch with me. The slightest hint of a problem, we move on. I still think you should let me kill Sharp though."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I've seen enough killing to last me a lifetime."
"But he tortured you."
"What if you get killed? Then who will protect me?"
She won in the end. I couldn't argue with that. We were staying in a hotel near the airport. I'd booked the room using one of my aliases, taking all the steps I could to make sure we wouldn't be found.
"I still can't believe you came back for me," she said.
I looked at her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her arms folded across her chest. She looked freezing.
"Come here," I said, lying on the bed next to her and holding out my arms. She lay across me, her chest moving slowly as she breathed in and out. I listened to her breathing, knowing I'd never tire of it. "Is this helping?"
"A little."
I pulled the covers out from under us and draped them across her. I wanted to kiss her. It was a thought that hadn't occurred to me before. I'd spent so long thinking about her, about saving her, about avenging her, yet something like that never crossed my mind.
She was beautiful, even more than when I last saw her. Even with the bruises, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I boiled with rage at the thought of what he'd done to her but I forced myself to let it go. William might not be around anymore but I could remember him best by paying heed to the lessons he had taught me. Let the emotions go. Focus on the moment.
I realised she was looking up at me, blinking as that sparkle slowly came back to her eyes. "Thank you," she said.
I couldn't resist. Leaning down, I pressed my lips to hers, ready for her to shy away. She did, but only for a moment. Then she was kissing me back.
The feel of her soft lips against mine sent a whole bunch of new feelings racing through me. I had to touch her. My hands slid down her back and then through her nightgown I could feel her ass. It was soft and pert and touching it made me hard as rock.
Her hands were moving down my chest. She lifted my shirt and felt the muscles of my stomach, tracing lines with her fingers as my cock began to twitch in my trousers.
Tugging at her nightgown, I got my hands underneath, feeling her soft skin, caressing her as she ran her hand up to my chest. Still we kissed, our lips staying together as our bodies got closer.
It might have been the wine we'd enjoyed together, it might have been relief that the ordeal and torment were finally over. Or it might have been because it was meant to be. Whatever the reason, her hand was undoing the button that held my trousers up and I was moving around to her chest, finding her nipples taut and ready for me.
Her cold hand slid into my boxers and gripped my shaft tightly. I moaned into her mouth, moving my hand down to her thigh, brushing lightly upwards, finding her already wet. I plunged a finger into her and then it was her turn to moan.
Pushing her onto her back, I pulled off my shirt, kissing my way down her chest. Neither of us had said a word but we didn't need to. Somehow we knew this was right. I kissed her thighs, pushing her legs apart before easing my tongue into her juices. She sighed, gripping the back of my head as I toyed with her clit until she was writhing in place under me.
I moved up the bed when I thought she was close, pushing a finger
into her and kissing her again, using my hand to bring her to orgasm. I looked deep into her eyes as it struck, watching her expression change. Her body shook when she climaxed, her pussy contracting around my fingers but all the time she stared up at me, reaching up to kiss me as her pleasure began to fade.
I shoved my trousers down to my ankles, kicking them off as I remained on top of her. Once I was naked, I took hold of my shaft, rubbing between her legs before with one slow motion, I pushed myself into her until our hips were pressed together.
We continued to embrace as I began to thrust. I began gently, getting faster as her body began to rock against me. The feel of her wet pussy gripping me in place was too much for me to last long. I ground against her, kissing her throughout as her eyes closed. Then I moved fast, sliding all the way in as she gasped through another climax, my body hitting her clit in just the right way.
I came a second later, unable to last any longer at the sight of her pleasure so vivid, so real, so unexpected. My cock jerked as I came inside her, filling her pussy with more and more until I slid from her and collapsed on my side, holding her close. "Thank you," she muttered again, gripping me so tightly I wondered if I'd done something wrong. She was acting as if she was scared but then she kissed me and I knew the truth. We were supposed to be together and now we were. Once we landed in Prague, we would never be apart again, I swore it to myself and to her.
SIXTEEN - JOHN
The flight was only two hours but seemed to take forever. We said goodbye at the airport. It was not easy. I hated walking away from her but I was at least able to tell myself it would be the last time. I landed at two in the afternoon. She was due in at just after six but I didn't want to do anything without her. I just waited.
The airport was full of people. Stag parties, families, couples on romantic breaks. And me. Waiting for her.
When her flight came into land, I was waiting for her to come through security. I watched as the crowd headed through. Where was she?
"Mr Ward," a man's voice said. I looked across to see someone heading across to me. "I was asked to deliver this to you."
