by Tiffany Snow
“It's n-not a p-p-problem,” he replied, giving me a shy smile.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“Aw, fine. J-just wor-working, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Speaking of which, I didn't know how I was going to get to the hotel tonight. Well, one obstacle at a time.
We pulled up in front of my building and I dug out some money to pay Frankie, who again protested.
“Not this t-time,” he said firmly. “Th-this one's on m-m-me.”
Before I could say anything, he had driven away. I was grateful for his kindness, though he could ill afford it, and I shoved the money back in my purse.
I was nearly to the top of the stairs when I saw a man step out from the shadows by my door. I froze in my tracks, staring stupidly at him.
He was huge, his massive shoulders were encased in a black jacket and seemed to fill the entire landing. In three strides, he stood in front of me as I hesitated on the stairs.
“Kathleen Turner?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.
I nodded uncertainly. “Who are you?”
His smile sent chills down my spine.
“Simone sent me,” he said. “She thought you might need a little reminder about tonight.”
Alarmed, I tried to retreat backward down the stairs, but was abruptly stopped when he grabbed my shirt, fisting the cloth around my neck. He yanked me forward, and I stumbled, abruptly realizing I'd lost my grip on the banister and now stood with only the tips of my toes touching the stairs. I clutched at his arm, terrified he was going to let go and send me tumbling down the concrete steps.
“It'd be too bad if you had an accident,” he sneered at me. “So just remember - if you don't go tonight, I'll be payin' you another visit tomorrow.”
I glanced over my shoulder, the stairs looming behind me. I'd surely break something, or worse, if he pushed me.
“You understand?” he growled, shaking me.
“Yeah,” I said. “I get it.”
He shoved me backward and I screamed, clutching wildly at him before he pulled me back. My feet connected solidly with the stairs as I gasped for air, my heart racing.
The man laughed, shoving me aside as he went down the stairs. I watched as he climbed into a gray Camaro and peeled out of the parking lot.
“Are you all right?”
I started, looking up into Alisha's concerned face.
“I heard you scream. Who was that guy?” she asked, her eyes wide.
Shaking, I climbed the few remaining steps up to her before abruptly bursting into tears.
A couple of hours later, I was back in my own clothes, curled up on my couch with Tigger in my lap, Alisha sitting across from me. I'd broken down and told her everything – about seeing Blane cheating on me with Kandi, about my car blowing up, staying the night with Kade and finding his file on me, to finally my latest dilemma of what I was going to do about James tonight. To her credit, she'd listened very well, offering sympathetic noises when appropriate, but mainly just letting me pour my troubles out to her.
“So how much money do you owe Simone?” she asked, getting up from the couch.
“Five thousand dollars,” I replied glumly, stroking Tigger's fur and watching as Alisha straightened a slightly crooked picture on my wall. I wondered how long she’d been staring at it, itching to fix it.
“How much do you have in savings?”
“Only about three hundred.” I glanced at the clock. It was nearing the time I'd have to get ready and go. I didn't want to call a taxi again. “Do you think I could borrow your car?”
“Of course you can,” Alisha said, “but what are you going to do? Sleeping with this guy to pay off a debt just seems like such a third-world, women-as-second-class-citizens kind of thing.”
I had an idea, just forming at the back of my mind, and even as I thought it, I wondered if I could pull it off. Unless I resigned myself to sleeping with James, I didn't have a choice. The price of failure, though, would likely be worse than sex. I made a decision. It didn't matter if I failed – I had to try. I was sick to death of being pushed around, not only by James, but by Kade and Blane as well. I'd get myself out of this mess or face the consequences.
“I have a plan,” I said slowly, “sort of. But I need help. Could you help me?”
Alisha eyed me, then nodded. “So long as your plan doesn't include a threesome, I'm in.”
A few hours later I was entering the hotel, trying to maintain a semblance of calm over my anxiety. I tightened the belt on my long coat as I made my way through the luxurious lobby to the front desk. Although a few people milled about, the sound of conversation was muffled by the thick carpet. In the corner, a man played the baby grand piano, the rich tones warm and inviting.
“May I help you?” The man behind the desk cast a practiced eye over my clothing, no doubt judging its quality and price tag. His name tag read “Bernard.” The man Gracie’d told me to ask for.
“I was told you'd have something for me,” I replied. “Something for Lorelei.”
A glimmer of understanding lit his eyes, but he kept his expression carefully blank as he opened a drawer beneath the counter.
“I believe this is for you,” he said, handing me a white envelope with a room number written on the back.
“Thank you,” I replied absently, already turning away. Inside the envelope was a room key card. Taking a deep breath and steeling my resolve, I headed for the elevator.
A few moments later, I was walking down a long hallway on one of the top floors of the hotel. I passed a mirror, then paused and returned to it. I shed my coat and studied my reflection.
Part of the plan had been to dress the part, cooperation from James being necessary for this to work. To that end, I had borrowed a top from Alisha that I'd been surprised she'd even owned. It was a halter top made of a silver silky material that tied behind my neck and at my waist, leaving my entire back and arms bare. I didn't have the type of bra you'd wear with a shirt like this, so I'd gone without, a fact that was obvious as the thin material clung to me. I'd paired the shirt with a black skirt that was too short and too tight for me to wear anymore and had been buried in the back of my closet. The hem stopped several inches above my knee and I gave it a sharp tug to pull it down a bit. Alisha had lent me a pair of black stockings that came to mid-thigh and had a seam running down the back of my legs.
Lastly, I had dug out the peacock blue pair of shoes I'd bought with the money Kade had given me. It seemed fitting they'd be used for this purpose. They gave me height and a bit of courage, the little blue, green and silver jewels affixed to them glinting in the light. I'd left my hair down and had tousled it, the long locks curling over my shoulders and down my back. The sapphires Blane had given me sparkled at my ears.
The thought flittered through my head that though I had declared my independence from both Kade and Blane, it seemed I was taking both of them inside the hotel room with me tonight – perhaps as a reminder, perhaps for courage. I shook off the uncomfortable thought. I didn't need Blane or Kade to take care of me. I could take care of myself just fine, thank you very much.
Grabbing my coat and purse, I faced the door, unsure whether to knock or just walk in. Considering I'd been given a key, I supposed that knocking was out. I slid the card in the key slot and watched the light turn green, the lock clicking free. Turning the knob, I entered the room.
I was taken aback by what I saw. Candles were lit everywhere, giving the room an ethereal glow. Beyond the entry was a bank of windows, the curtains open to display the twinkling lights of the city. A bottle of champagne rested in a silver wine bucket filled with ice, two empty glasses standing nearby.
I swallowed uncomfortably, frowning. What was this? Some kind of seduction scene? That didn't really coincide with what I'd been expecting. James hadn't bothered to be anything but cruel to me since our one and only date. I walked further into the room.
“I must admit, I'm a little surprised y
ou showed up.”
Turning, I saw James standing a few feet behind me. He wore gray slacks and a white button-down shirt, no tie. His eyes flicked over me and it was all I could do not to cross my arms over my chest. I felt dirty with just his eyes touching me.
“I wasn't aware I had a choice,” I said, smiling tightly. “You made that quite clear yesterday.” I turned my head slightly, displaying the bruise that still darkened my cheek.
“I wouldn't have had to do that if you'd just cooperated,” he said, moving closer to me. I forced myself to stand still and not retreat.
“Oh, so it's the woman's fault if the man beats her up?” I asked sarcastically.
“Precisely.”
His hand lifted to brush the skin of my arm and a shudder of revulsion went through me. His eyes were glued to my chest. Taking a step back, I said, “Aren't you going to offer me something to drink?”
James smiled and the sight of it produced another shudder.
“Where are my manners? Would you like a glass of champagne?”
At my jerky nod, he uncorked the bottle and poured the sparkling, golden fluid into the two glasses. After I took one from his outstretched hand, he pulled me down to sit next to him, squeezing me into the small space between his body and the arm of the sofa. I took a sip of the cold champagne.
“I must say, I like the outfit,” James said, his voice low near my ear. His hand rested on my nylon-covered knee.
“I assumed this is how you like your prostitutes to dress,” I said coldly.
“Prostitute is such a harsh word. I prefer ‘female companion.’”
I pressed my knees tightly together when his palm slid up my thigh. “It doesn't change the fact that you're blackmailing me into having sex with you,” I said baldly, taking another sip of champagne.
“Taking advantage of your...circumstances...isn't a crime,” James said lightly. He took the champagne from me and set it on the table.
“Your involvement with the prostitution ring will get out sooner or later,” I said quickly. “You won't be able to play this game forever.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” he replied, curling an arm around my shoulder. I felt his fingers work at the ties to my blouse.
“Why does Simone owe you money anyway?” I asked, my hands clenching into fists.
He shrugged. “Like it's any of your concern, but she owed me for the take from the party. A party which you attended, I might add.”
“You mean the one where you didn't lift a finger to help me when your dad told Jimmy to kill me?” I said angrily.
“Now, now,” he condescended, “don't hold a grudge. It all turned out all right. You're not dead.”
“Only because Blane saved me.”
At the mention of Blane's name, James's fingers tightened painfully on the back of my neck. I struggled not to wince.
“Ah yes. Kirk. He does seem to fuck up the best laid plans.” James voice hissed in my ear. “But he's not here to save you tonight, is he.”
I twisted away from his grip on my neck just as my hand shot out to grasp between his legs, my hold firm and tight on his balls. James froze.
“I don't need him here to save me,” I spat at him, digging in my nails through the thin fabric of his slacks. James sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I can do that all on my own.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled.
“Reminding you of who you're screwing with,” I said. “I'm glad you were so talkative tonight, especially since it's all been recorded.” With my free hand, I plucked the small Bluetooth earpiece from my ear, hidden by my hair, from which I'd phoned Alisha when I got off the elevator. “Perhaps what you did isn't a crime, but somehow I doubt the public would view it that way.”
“I'll kill you for this,” James threatened, his eyes narrowing in anger. I squeezed tighter and he grunted in pain. I smiled coldly.
“Good to have that on record, too,” I said sweetly. “Keep going, Mister District Attorney. I'm sure you're really helping your re-election chances. Tell me – should I send the tape to the cops? The press? Or just put it on YouTube?” My heart pounded in my chest, anxiety twisting in my gut, but I kept my expression serene.
In a move that startled me, James swung his elbow, catching me on the side of the head with a sharp crack. I gasped in pain and my grip on his body faltered. With a roar of anger, James swung again, catching me in the jaw and sending me careening to the floor. My teeth clanked shut and I tasted blood from where I'd bit my tongue.
Ignoring the pain and jerking upright, I had just enough time to see James coming for me. Fear and adrenaline shot through me and I lashed out with my foot, the wickedly sharp stiletto heel catching him directly on his shin.
James howled in pain, dropping to his knees. I didn't wait to see what he did next, but turned back over, scrambling to where my purse had fallen to the floor a few feet away. I could hear James spitting curses, the table overturning as he lunged for me.
I gasped in shock as the ice from the bucket hit my back. James's hand closed around my ankle. I kicked out blindly, earning another reprieve when I met solid flesh and heard him grunt with pain.
“You are so dead, you fucking bitch!” he yelled at me. I didn't waste time replying, my grasping hand finally clutched my purse and I dug inside it. I turned back toward him.
“Don't ever threaten me again, you bastard,” I growled through clenched teeth. I jabbed the stun gun I'd bought today against his arm and pushed the trigger.
James's body jerked, then was still, his eyes rolling up into his head.
Relief flooded through me and I gasped for breath. Adrenaline was still coursing through my body, making my hands shake. I stumbled to my feet, wanting desperately to get out of there, and shoved the stun gun and Bluetooth back into my purse. A vindictive thought had me reaching for James, relieving him of his wallet and car keys. Taking what cash he had, I found the bathroom and tossed the wallet into the toilet. Spying his cell phone on a nearby table, I dropped it on the floor and ground the heel of my shoe into the screen, shattering it, then I was out the door and walking quickly down the hall toward the elevator.
I punched the button and hauled out my phone, calling Alisha.
“Are you all right?” were the first words out of her mouth.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” I said, hoping it was true. I turned toward the mirror in the hallway and grimaced. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth and my hair was a wreck. I shoved a hand through it for a quick finger-comb, wincing when I touched the spot where James's elbow had connected. “Did you get it all on tape?”
She answered in the affirmative as I surveyed my shirt, now wet from the ice, and plastered to my skin. My nylons were ripped from where James had grabbed me.
“Gotta go,” I said. “I'll be back soon.”
“Kathleen, wait, I need to tell-”
The rest of her sentence was lost as I disconnected. I shoved the stockings down and off my legs before putting my bare feet back into my shoes. Looking around, I spotted a nearby potted plant and hurriedly shoved my wadded up stockings into it just as the elevator dinged. Crap. Hopefully, it was empty.
I shook out my coat as the doors slid open. I had one arm inside a sleeve when I spotted Blane standing inside the elevator.
My mouth fell open in surprise and I froze.
“Get in,” he growled at me.
His command jerked me out of my stupor and I stiffened my spine.
“I think I'll catch the next one,” I said coldly.
In a flash, he reached out and snagged my arm, yanking me onto the elevator with him. He jabbed a button behind me and the doors slid closed.
Furious, I stared daggers at him. He ignored my fuming glare, his eyes resting on the blood by my mouth before dropping lower. Before I could stop him, he roughly pushed aside my coat, taking in my clothing. I shoved his arms away, clutching the coat closed around me.
“Do you mind?” I hissed.
Blane's eyes met mine and I instinctively stepped back at the rage I saw there, the wall of the elevator coming up against my back.
“Actually,” he bit out, “I do.”
The elevator dinged again, then Blane was dragging me out of it, his grip unyielding on my upper arm. Not hard enough to bruise, but too tight to get away. I stumbled next to him, my heels not made for moving at this pace.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, holding on to my anger.
“We need to talk.”
“I don't want to talk.” Like I wanted to hear his excuses, his explanations. As if anything he had to say would erase the image of him kissing Kandi from my mind. The thought made me angrier.
He was dragging me down a deserted corridor, it looked like it was a level with conference rooms, all empty at this time of night. He stopped in front of a door marked Conference Room 125. Opening the heavy wooden door, he pushed me inside, closing the door behind him.
The room was large, the ceiling at least twenty feet high, and only a few lights were half-lit. A few large, round tables were arranged in the space, covered with black linen cloths. Chairs were stacked along one wall.
Eager to get some space between Blane and me, I moved away, turning so my back wasn't to him. I needn't have worried. He'd halted inside the doorway. Darkness shrouded him and I squinted to see him through the shadows, cursing the faint light I'd stepped into.
“What do you want, Blane?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to stop you from making a stupid move,” he answered flatly. “But I see I was too late.”
My heart sank. I don't know how he'd found out why I was here, but he had, and he thought I'd gone through with it. I shouldn't care, but I did. My eyes stung, which only made me angry.
“It's none of your business, Blane,” I choked out. “I don't need you. I can take care of myself.”
“Can you?” His voice was both skeptical and sad. I squinted into the darkness, wishing I could see his face. As if he heard my thought, he moved toward me. Alarmed, I backed away.
“Kade told me what Simone wanted you to do tonight,” he said, coming closer.
