by Loki Renard
“What’s with him?” Mattie asked the question bluntly, but she was clearly genuinely concerned.
“Post traumatic stress disorder,” Miles explained quickly. “Kevin suffers from it. Has since Iraq. So stop banging things and keep your voice down.”
“Fucking hell,” Mattie hissed. “I didn’t even know he was in the military.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Do you have a cigarette?”
“I thought we weren’t allowed…” Mattie stopped talking as Miles narrowed his eyes at her, and handed her packet of cigarettes over, along with a lighter. “Here.”
“Go get some towels, something to clean him up with. And my first aid kit.” He gave the orders quietly, but with authority and to her credit, Mattie obeyed without question.
Whilst she was scurrying for supplies, Miles put a cigarette to his lips. He lit it, then removed it and offered it to Kevin. Though the man had not smoked in years, he inhaled almost automatically, then slowly began to drift back up into the world of conscious reality.
“Someone hit me,” Kevin said, taking a very long drag. “Hard.” He began to jiggle one leg, his entire body shaking.
“Yes they did, buddy,” Miles said, taking one of the hotel’s pristine white towels from Mattie’s hands and pressing it to Kevin’s bloody head. Kevin barely seemed to notice, he didn’t wince or acknowledge any of the pain.
“Insurgents. Fucking insurgents.” Kev took another long drag. “Blew me up.”
“It’s okay, we have a medic on the way,” Miles said, playing along for the moment. This was bad. The man was in full flashback.
“I’m okay,” Kevin said, latching on to the first part of Miles’ sentence. “I’m okay.” His eyes darted around the room, looking at everything but seeing nothing. “I’m okay.”
“Yeah, you’re okay,” Miles agreed. “I’m just going to put this blanket around your shoulders, alright?”
“I’m okay,” Kevin repeated as Miles draped the blanket. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.” He chanted the words like a dull mantra, a skipping record as his brain refused to process anything more than the most basic attempts at speech.
“He is not fucking okay,” Mattie whispered, crouching next to Miles.
“No, he’s not,” Miles replied. “Call down to reception. Tell them we need an ambulance and we need the police.”
Mattie nodded and scuttled off to do his bidding, leaving Miles looking into Kevin’s remote stare. A cold, hard rage began to build in his belly. This was no longer a series of unfortunate events. This was a systematic campaign of terror being waged by a brutal coward. Someone was going to pay dearly for this.
Chapter Nine
Whilst Mattie made the call, Miles tried to keep Kevin talking. He was only barely coherent, fading in and out of awareness. It was almost better when he thought he was back in the war, because then he was stoic. When he came back to the present he was distraught and confused, almost on the verge of tears.
The paramedics were not in any hurry to arrive, but hotel management did send up a tray full of hot tea as a token of their almost complete lack of concern. Between drinking tea and smoking, Kevin managed to calm down enough to come back to reality. Miles knew Kevin was back properly when he screwed up his face and thrust the cigarette into a half cup of tea.
“What…” Kevin scowled. “Why the hell… why would you give me a cigarette?”
“I thought it would help you relax.”
“I don’t need to relax,” Kevin snapped. “I need to kick that guy’s ass. He hit me from behind. Coward.”
Miles exchanged a significant look with Mattie. A rear attack, the same M.O. Was it possible that whoever had attacked her had followed them all the way to England? If it was the same person, he was growing bold. It was one thing to hit a girl, quite another to attack a two hundred pound man.
When the paramedics arrived Kevin was provided with a strong dose of sedatives and taken off to hospital to check for brain damage. He went peacefully, though Miles could hear him lecturing the paramedics on the dangers of an unchecked insurgency all the way down the hall. He was pleased to note that the paramedics seemed to be taking Kevin’s comments very much in stride.
Mattie watched solemnly out the window as the ambulance carrying Kevin disappeared into the peaty London night. Her face, always pale, seemed particularly pallid as her fingers twitched at the drapes.
She lifted her eyes to Miles. “Is he coming back?”
“He’ll be back,” Miles said, squeezing her shoulder. “It takes a lot more than that to keep a man like Kevin down.”
By that time the police had arrived. They were polite but devastatingly unhelpful, and very young. Their large, rotund hats did nothing to hide their smooth, ruddy-cheeked baby faces. The previous incident in Los Angeles meant very little to them, and though they took a full statement from both Miles and Mattie, Miles wasn’t left with much confidence in their detecting abilities. He wanted to view the security tapes himself, but that wasn’t going to happen due to privacy laws. They informed him that they would let him know the outcome of their investigations in due course.
“You people are fucking useless,” Mattie swore, expressing the sentiment Miles would like to have imparted himself, were he not too disciplined. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder and gave her a nod as the police saw themselves out.
Things got worse when hotel management became enraged at the bloodstains. Apparently it was not the done thing to check into a hotel and leave pints of blood soaking into their best carpets. In spite of Miles’ explanations, the bristle-nosed fellow in charge of such matters seemed convinced that it was all part of some sort of decadent American rock and roll prank gone awry. In short order, Miles was arranging for their things to be sent to a new place of residence.
Standing outside on the London pavement, Mattie sparked a cigarette. Miles didn’t bother stopping her. He almost wanted a cigarette himself.
“We need to go get Cash,” he said. “Come on.”
Mattie followed obediently, puffing like a small steam train.
When they reached the after party it was immediately apparent that Cash was having a wonderful time. She was surrounded by admiring young men and women, who should perhaps have made him jealous, but didn’t. It was nice to see her enjoying herself and relaxing, although the near constant flashing of cameras was enough to remind anyone that there was no real relaxation to be had at a function designed purely to allow glamorous people to look glamorous.
Mattie looked up at him. “Aren’t you going to get her?”
“Would you mind telling her we need to leave?”
Mattie slipped into the crowd and Miles remained on the fringes, watching over Cash. He noticed that she wasn’t drinking, in spite of the fact that it was perfectly legal for her to do so in the UK. That pleased him greatly. She seemed pleased to see Mattie, but it was only when she lifted her head and met his eyes that her smile blossomed into uninhibited pleasure.
He felt warmth suffusing his body as his heart swelled with feeling. She was so beautiful, so pure and enthusiastic. She practically skipped through the crowd, taking his forearm in her hands when she was close enough to do so.
“Is it time to go home?”
He smiled into her eyes. “If you’d like to leave, a car awaits you, Miss Raine.”
“I’m tired,” she said, running her hand through her silken golden locks. “I’d like you to take me home.”
As he escorted her from the venue, Miles almost forgot what had taken place that evening. It wasn’t that his concern for Kevin was diminished in any way, but his pleasure at being with Cash momentarily eclipsed his concerns. Cash was a light that shone too brightly to allow thoughts of darkness, at least, for a little while. Once they were on the road, Miles broke the news as gently as he could.
“We’re going to go to a different hotel this evening.”
She squirmed about, tugging her dress down where it was trying to ride
up indecently. “A different hotel? Why?”
“Because someone jumped Kev, that’s why.” Mattie spoke up before Miles had a chance to put it more delicately. He shot her a harsh look, but she ignored him blithely.
Cash’s eyes went wide with concern. “Someone hurt Kevin?”
“There was an incident. Kevin is in hospital, he’s going to be okay.”
“There was an incident?” Cash’s voice rose with concern. “What does that even mean?”
“It means someone kicked his ass.” Again Mattie pre-empted Miles.
“Please, Mattie, shut it,” he snapped.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Cash defended her immediately. “She’s the only one telling me anything.”
“Very well,” Miles said. “This is the situation. Someone attacked Kevin, so we’re going to stay at a different hotel this evening. I intend to keep you both safe and Kevin will recover easily. He isn’t badly hurt.”
“Except mentally, you mean,” Mattie cut in yet again.
“He’s having a small flashback, he will be okay,” Miles reassured Cash.
Cash sat back, her mouth falling open in despair. “What is happening? Everything… everything is going wrong.”
“You’re famous, Cash, shit’s going to happen,” Mattie drawled. “Muscles will take care of it. Let him do his job…”
“Mattie, please,” Miles interrupted her. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I can speak for myself.”
“Since when do you give him the time of day?” Cash looked more disoriented by Mattie’s sudden acceptance of Miles than any of the other news.
“Eh,” Mattie shrugged. “Turns out he’s not so bad.”
“Ladies, please,” Miles said as the taxi drew around to the back-up hotel. As they entered through the secure entrance, he was pleased to see that the additional security personnel were already in place, as was Cash’s luggage.
“Why did we have to change hotels?”
She really didn’t like to be shifted around, he was noticing that. Even though she was living in hotels full time and was about to spend the next two months hopping from city to city, she liked her schedule. If it got disturbed, she became quite agitated.
“If the same person is behind Kevin’s attack as the break in, it means they know our schedule. They know where we’re supposed to be. By moving, we go off the script. Nobody knows where we are besides you girls, me and the rest of the security team.”
“Hey, it’s a nice place at least,” Mattie said, settling in and looking comfortable. The décor was much more modern at the second hotel, with an informal, almost Californian aesthetic. It was perfect.
Miles was worried that Cash’s agitation might get out of hand, but Mattie’s relaxed attitude seemed to rub off a little and before long Cash and Mattie were showering and getting ready for bed. Miles made sure that the suite was secure and then retired to his own room. They were all tired, they were all jet lagged, they all needed sleep.
He was sitting in bed, reading on his tablet when there was a small knock at his door.
“Miles?” Cash slipped into his room. There were dark circles under her eyes and she looked thin and vulnerable in her nightshirt.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Can I, sleep with you?” She asked the question softly. “I don’t mean anything sexual, I just mean… after… I don’t want to sleep alone.”
Miles pushed back the covers. “Get in, Cash.”
“Thank you,” she said, slipping into the bed. “I just can’t believe Kevin got hurt.”
Miles lay still as she curled up next to him, her knees drawn up almost to her chest. For once she wasn’t being at all flirtatious, nor was she chatting.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” He stroked her hair off her face and looked down at her with concern.
“I don’t know…” she murmured, trailing off as another knock at the door interrupted their conversation.
“Come in, Mattie,” Miles called.
Mattie pushed the door open a crack and peeked in, her dark hair falling over her face. “Are you two, you know?”
“We’re not doing anything untoward, Mattie,” Miles said. “What’s the matter?”
She inched into the room, shaking the hair out of her eyes to reveal a shifty, nervous expression. “Nothing, really. I was just thinking about Kevin.”
“Was he terribly hurt?” Cash sat up in bed, wrapping her arms around her knees.
“He was pretty rough,” Mattie said. “Got me to thinking, what if… well…”
Miles sighed inwardly. The bastard was winning. Whoever was behind the attack on Kevin and on Cash’s suite and probably on Mattie too, had both young women completely terrified.
“It’s hard to sleep,” Mattie said. “Every time I close my eyes…”
“Sleep in here, Mattie,” Cash said. “With us.”
“There is no way that bed is big enough for the three of us,” Mattie said. “No offense, Muscles.”
“Sure it is,” Cash said, shifting over. “Sleep next to me.”
When Mattie continued to stand at the door one part doubtful and the other part adorable in men’s style black silk pajamas, Miles motioned her over.
“Come on, Ms. Longstockings, it’s bed time.”
And that was how Miles ended up scrunched on the far side of the bed whilst Cash and Mattie slept in blissful comfort. Long into the night he lay awake, listening to their quiet breathing. He didn’t mind having them in bed. At least he knew where they were, and any further attacks would have to go through him. He was unable to sleep for the feeling that he was very much on the back foot. Someone was out there, hunting Cash, circling like a cruel cat playing with its prey.
The only consolation, was that whoever was behind the attacks was deliberately avoiding him. They only struck when his back was turned. Which, in theory, meant that as long as he never turned his back on Cash, as long as he never let her out of his sight, she should be safe.
*
For forty-eight hours they were stuck inside the hotel waiting for news, reluctant to go out because of the press thronging outside. The paparazzi were stirred up and aggressive. Word of trouble on the tour had gotten out and there were precious few pictures of Cash in London. With every passing hour, competition to get a candid shot of her became more fierce.
“They’re like circling sharks,” Cash said, peeking out of the window. The simple act brought with it a rush of flashing bulbs.
“Come away from the window, sweetheart,” Miles said almost absent-mindedly. He was in the process of attempting to unravel what had happened to Kevin, but like all the other incidents there was next to no evidence as to what had happened, besides the obvious results.
“Yes darling, do,” Mattie snickered.
“Mattie, Kevin isn’t here, but don’t let that give you the impression anything goes,” Miles said, looking up from his phone.
She wrinkled her nose at him, but she didn’t say anything else. He was privately quite pleased with Mattie. When she felt safe and secure she was actually very well behaved. It was a wonder what a little structure could do.
Cash, on the other hand, was still on edge. He could tell that she was worried because she’d completely stopped flirting with him. Instead she paced around the suite like a pretty caged tiger, fidgeting endlessly. Usually she would have worked the anxiety off, but there wasn’t much space to dance. He was worried about her. More than that, he was sad that her native innocence was slowly slipping away before his very eyes.
Whilst Cash paced, Mattie tossed herself down on the couch and began murmuring profanity. When Miles asked her to stop, she claimed to be working.
“This is my creative process,” she explained. “It’s how the good stuff comes out.”
Rolling his eyes, Miles pushed up out of the chair and went to physically draw Cash away from the window, which she was peeking out of yet again. When he put his hands on her shoulders, she looked up at him with a
winsome smile. It was all he could do not to bend down and plant a kiss on her lips then and there.
“It’s going to be alright,” he murmured. “I promise.”
*
Cash didn’t know if it was going to be alright. It was strange enough, being in a foreign country. But being in a foreign country and being under attack from some psycho was almost too much to bear. She knew she wouldn’t have been able to handle it at all if it weren’t for Miles.
She leaned back against him, letting his body take some of her weight. It was a small, casual intimacy, but she felt much better for it. They stood there for a time, facing the closed curtain, not moving or speaking. In the background, Mattie’s muttered rhythmic expletives punctuated the silence. Cash found a small smile creeping over her face.
“Something amusing you, Miss Raine?”
“Just Mattie,” Cash said. “She’s funny.”
“Hilarious,” Miles said dryly. “Don’t start following her lead. I can tell you right now I won’t accept that language from you.”
The murmured warning made Cash’s tummy tumble. She forgot her concern and smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“See that you do.”
Miles smiled down at her and she melted with a little giggle.
“Now that’s better,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I think it’s time you ate,” he said. “You too, Mattie.” He glanced over at the prone figure in the dark jeans.
Cash was touched by how Miles kept an eye on Mattie. He wasn’t being paid to watch her, and there was certainly no romantic interest between them. He could have completely ignored her, especially given how hostile she could be. But he didn’t. He was a true gentleman and he looked after both of them.
“You’re sweet,” she said, smiling up at him.
“I’m glad you think so,” he said, looking pleased by the compliment. “Now, we need dinner.”
“Something fried,” Mattie suggested. “They deep fry everything here. You can get deep fried candy bars. Let’s order some of those.”
Cash grinned and bounced onto the couch with her. “That sounds gross.”
“Deliciously gross.”
