Calling Time

by K A Sands

  The stench of my nightmares surrounded me...sweat from the other man, the copper tang in the air...roses.

  I thrashed frantically, pushing and digging with my fingernails, my wails finding voice and erupting from within. It wasn’t long before my screams shattered their surroundings.

  Harsh grunts overwhelmed too much. I craved the darkness to overpower my senses, engulf me...drown me.

  Blackness gave way to light. An azure blue sky beckoning me, like a long-lost lover in the distance. White, fluffy clouds sighed my name, the invitation to be swallowed and swaddled, too enticing to ignore. I let them carry me home.

  Lucca

  Cursing Ryder, I swiped at the bedside table, knocking the pager onto the floor to silence the stupid fucking thing. 1 a.m. I loved the guy, but I was gonna serve him a swift punch if he was calling me at stupid o’clock to bail his sorry arse out of yet another absurd situation. I reached for the phone and speed dialled my best friend. It rang once before he picked up.

  Interesting.

  “Hey.” I sat up and rubbed at my eyes, groggy with sleep.

  “Shit...yeah, Lucca...you best come in. There’s been an incident at The V.”

  I was too old to be dealing with drunken antics at this time of night. “Can’t you sort it, man? This is the first time I’ve hit the hay before midnight in forever, bro.”

  I fumbled around for the switch on the lamp, finding it and lighting up the room, figuring I was up for the night. I swung my legs from the bed and sat up, my back aching.

  “Eh...” he coughed, “um, no...not really. I’m already here, you need to come too. Sorry.”

  Tuning into the background noise, I heard crying and raised voices sound over the phone. Never a good thing, suddenly I was wide awake.

  “What’s happening?”

  I put the phone on speaker so I could get up and dressed quicker, a terse anxiousness prickling at me. I didn’t like any carry on at my hotels, any hassle was never positive press for anyone.

  “Best if you just come, Lucca. It ain’t pretty.”

  “Shit. Okay,” I hissed, “damage control?”

  “As we speak. Just get here, all right?” he said. “I’ve called the lawyer.”

  Ryder clicked off the call and I got my arse in gear, grabbing keys and a coat. I was out the door within five minutes, roaring down empty late-night streets, unaware of the shit storm I was about to walk into.

  * * *

  Entering The V, the first person to catch my eye was the Night Manager across the lobby, talking to a familiar looking grey-haired man. Both were gesturing frantically, their voices hushed, I couldn’t hear the words spoken or the tone. The man turned on my approach and I physically groaned at the recognition of one pissed off Philip Hamilton. Anguish coloured his features as he marched toward me, I instantly offered support in the form of a hug. My old friend had suffered a lifetime of cruelty already and I didn’t relish having to hear of furthermore. A solid member of society, the only son of a shipping mogul, Philip was a stand-up guy. A respected member of the community who had been dealt a shitty, shitty hand.

  “Philip...”

  My heart beat harder, full of apprehension. When my old friend looked at me helplessly, tears rolling down his ashened cheeks, the sight undid me, and I had to swallow the lump in my throat. I drew the man into another tight hug.

  “My office?”

  “No! Good Lord, no. I need to go back up. I can’t leave her.”

  Philip pulled away, swiping angrily at his tears. His outburst didn’t surprise at all. Whatever situation he’d found himself in had clearly upset him. It was with ease I ignored the way he snapped at me.

  “Is Emille okay, Philip?”

  Convinced my expression was filled with confusion, my heart beats ticked double time, not understanding exactly what he was saying. After the loss of both daughters, Emille was all Philip had left. If anything had happened to her, I feared it would be the final nail in the coffin for the poor man.

  “Yes, yes...” he stumbled out, looking down at his phone clutched tightly in his hand.

  The urge to shake the man for answers was real. I desperately needed to figure out what was going on.

  “Check your phone.”

  Philip turned and marched back to the Night Manager, leaving me at a loss, my phone vibrating in the pocket of my jeans.

  What the fuck?

  I was beginning to rapidly lose my patience which was no easy feat. Normally easy going and laid back, the hour and lack of facts needled at me the wrong way spiking my temperament. I was never one to be overly dramatic when a situation arose, that was Ryder’s department, yet I was feeling out of sorts.

  Squinting down at the phone in my hand, I noticed the text icon; Philip. Again, confusion swirled around me. Swiping the screen, I almost dropped it to the floor when I read the message. Reading the words twice, and then a third time for good measure to make sure I understood exactly what I was seeing. I was flabbergasted, the scenario seemed impossible, there was simply no way what the words were saying were true.

  Swiping a hand down my tired face, I scanned the lobby for Ryder. Philip was gone, and the Night Manager was no longer engaged in conversation with anyone. Giving myself a mental shakedown, I finally located Ryder. He strode towards me, tipping his head in the direction of the lift, encouraging me to follow him as he walked past. I peered down at the message again, hardly believing what I was reading.

  Phil: My daughters.

  Nothing more, nothing less. More than enough.

  I hightailed it after Ryder, stepping into the lift with him. When the doors closed on us we simply looked at each other in wonder. We were in for one long and confusing night, there was clearly a lot of explaining to do. Ryder hit the emergency stop button four floors into our ascent. Talking into the intercom he tells someone the lift is fine and he would reinstate the cab when ready. His silence lingered a moment after he hung up.

  “Marc Trebelle is involved.”

  I knocked my head back against the mirrored wall and groaned. Marc Trebelle was a powerful man, not a scandalous man by any means, powerful nonetheless. The name didn’t bring an ounce of comfort to me or the situation at hand, I now understood why the lawyers had been called in.

  “Are we at a ‘no comment’ response?”

  Ryder nodded his head in affirmation. “The floor’s secured, cleared. The Night Manager cited a problem with air conditioning and upgraded the floor’s guests. I don’t know if it was too late though.”

  Breathing heavily through my nose, I threw my hands up in frustration. “You’ve got to give me more than that Ryder, for fuck’s sake!”

  Leaning against the opposite wall, Ryder studied me. “Christ, what a fucking mess.” Tucking his hands into his pockets, he took his time before saying anything, clearly trying to get the story straight in his head and struggling. “Remember Cassie and Jessie, Philip’s girls?”

  I vaguely did. We were never close, didn’t run in the same circles as the girls were younger. I couldn’t pick either out of a crowded room if I had to, but I remembered the girls. Both pretty things, clever too but upped and vanished one day, leaving Philip and Emille a wreck. After their disappearance, it was widely rumoured both girls were dead. When I say Phil had been dealt a shitty hand - I wasn’t exaggerating.

  “They’re both here.”

  I snapped my head up in surprise at Ryder’s words, Phil’s text making more sense now.

  “And Marc is involved with this how?”

  A sour taste filled my mouth, the unknown throwing all sorts of scenarios at me, most had me feeling a slightly sick.

  “He’s been dating Jessie.”

  Okay...that didn’t quite make sense, then again nothing else had since I’d walked through The V’s doors. No one had seen hide nor hair of either woman for the past seven or so years, yet Marc Trebelle was dating one of them? My sense of dread intensified.

  “What do you know?”

 
; Ryder pushed from the wall and closed the space between us. “Two women, one being seen by the paramedics as we speak. Marc and his lawyer are in the adjoining room. The floor’s sealed off with security, ours and Phil’s. I don’t know much more, Lucca, except they all got here pretty fucking quick.”

  “Phil’s girls, I presume?”

  “Yes.”

  “How the hell does that happen? They’ve been gone a long time, mate. I honestly thought they were dead. Everyone did.” I pulled my hands through my hair, gripping at the ends in frustration. Nothing was adding up.

  “He wants an NDA signed.”

  The man was looking to save his reputation. I didn’t know Marc Trebelle personally, but our paths had crossed before. Always had a gorgeous woman on his arm, threw his cash around, liked expensive things. Despite his shortcomings, he appeared to be a decent man.

  “This isn’t making sense. What the fuck is the old man hiding?”

  My friend shook his head again. “Fuck if I know, Lucca. If we don’t sign, we’re not likely to get any answers. It looks like a simple confidentiality contract although that’s not my area.”

  “I can’t sign anything that jeopardises the hotel, Ryder. You know that. This isn’t ours to gamble with, it’s Ayden’s inheritance.”

  I kicked out at the bottom of the wall rattling the lift cab then leaned my head against the mirror and thumped methodically. There was no thinking straight without getting the full story, finding out exactly what was going on. Once I did, I could make plans, make this right. Fix it.

  “All I know is what I’ve given you. We’ve known Phil a long time and he’s an honest man as far as I’m aware. I hear you, I do.” Silence stretched between us for a few minutes before Ryder spoke up again. “Lo, man. Ayden’s like my own and you’re right – this is his inheritance. I can’t risk that any more than you. If it’s a simple NDA, then it’s all right.”

  “Let’s clean this mess up and talk to Phil when he’s ready, yeah?”

  I stepped in to give Ryder a hug and gripped his shoulder tight while he slapped my back, then reached out to strike the button to get the lift moving again.

  “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

  * * *

  “Evening, Mr. Rinaldi. Mr. Laurent.”

  Stan greeted both Ryder and I when we exited the lift. I was thankful it was someone I trusted and could handle most any situation. Our head of security was every bit the menacing man he appeared to be; stocky built gym rat with a face that would intimidate even the hardest of men.

  “Hey Stan.” I reached out a hand, Stan grabbing firmly and shaking.

  “The floor is cleared, and no-one has access, all guests have been relocated as per instructed, sir.” He jerked his head to Ryder while I pinched at the bridge of my nose.

  “Okay, good. Keep it that way until either myself or Ryder say otherwise.”

  “Yes, sir,” Stan replied.

  Ryder guffawed. “Stop calling him sir, he fucking hates it, Stan. You know this.”

  Our head of security grinned sheepishly before moving back to stand at the lift doors, making me less worried about other guests straying onto the floor.

  Walking towards suite 212, I started to feel my nerves spike at the terseness of the situation, unsure whether I was walking into chaos or calm. No stranger to blood and gore, either of them, I’d rather not see a woman in any kind of distress, especially at the hands of a man.

  The security guard posted outside of the suite knocked, then opened the door for us as we approached. A guttural wail assaulted my ears before I’d taken more than two steps inside the suite. There was so much pain in the sound that my feet stopped, and my blood ran cold. I retreated quick smart, not even looking into the room. Ryder followed straight behind me with a questioning look.

  “Who’s in there?” I closed the door after Ryder.

  “Two paramedics. Her father just came back in, sir.”

  There was no need for any more interference or further intruders, especially if it was going to cause more anguish. The young woman appeared to be in enough distress without adding more.

  “And the next suite?”

  Looking toward the room, the man remained professional. “One paramedic, the young lady’s sister, Mr. Trebelle and his lawyer. Mr. Trebelle booked the suite, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  Flashing a look to Ryder, I stomped the few short steps along the corridor, knocking before walking into a deathly silent room. Four faces snapped around at me in surprise, even though I’d made my presence known. I caught the mortified look on Marc’s face, the state of his undress didn’t go unnoticed either. Alarm bells rang loud for the second time tonight, and I saw red.

  “What did you do?” Marc shook his head. “What the fuck did you do?”

  My temper flared. I lunged at the man in front of me, not caring for the consequences. Ryder blocked me when I tried to reach out and grab at Marc, pushing me back against the now closed door with force. Marc hung his head and tears seeped from his eyes, nothing was making any sense at all. I stopped pushing against Ryder’s outstretched arm, eyeing each person in the room, stopping at the woman standing away from the commotion. A vague hint of recognition flitted through my mind.

  “Cassie?” I whispered. She tipped her head slightly, her face a tight grimace, red eyes from crying. “What happened?”

  Ryder, sensing I’d calmed down a little, roughly pushed me into a chair in the middle of the room. Eyeing Marc with distaste, I sat and waited for someone to clue me the fuck into the madness I’d walked in on.

  The lawyer spoke up first, and for the next twenty minutes both Ryder and I sat in stunned silence listening to the woeful tale of a young woman hell bent on living her life but failing miserably, and the poor man caught in the middle of the clusterfuck that had been their date that evening. Sad thing was; Marc genuinely cared a lot for this woman. The story was more than believable and extremely sad. I sighed a breath of relief that nothing illegal had gone down in my hotel. I also understood the ramifications of the incident for both the women and Marc. Even though his lawyer hadn’t gone into vast detail, he’d said enough that I could read between the lines. These women were hiding. Jessie was hiding.

  Laura, the woman’s name was now Laura. Jessie had changed her name.

  The whole event troubled me. I vowed right there and then to give both Marc and the women whatever they needed and promised to sign the confidentiality contract the lawyer had handed to me. There was no point in making the evening any more difficult.

  Cassie had moved from her seat and was quietly talking with Ryder in the far corner as I offered support to the lawyer and Marc. Neither said much, the same as myself. What can you say to someone caught up in an unfortunate incident such as the one presenting itself?

  The door swung open and an enraged Philip entered the room, murderously eying Marc. I got to my feet with the intention of diffusing whatever situation was about to erupt. Cassie rushed to her father and grabbed at his arm, stopping his march toward Marc.

  “I warned you.” He pointed a shaky finger. “I told you she couldn’t handle this kind of thing!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Marc shook his head in obvious remorse and I was quietly taken aback at the powerful man’s demeanour, he was torturing himself over the ill-fated event. In his position I’d have been doing the same - I couldn’t blame him.

  “You’re sorry? Yeah, I bet you fucking are, you son of a bitch!”

  “Truly, I am, Phil. I wouldn’t have taken things further without her consent. You know me, I’m not that man!” A fissure of anger laced the last of his words.

  Philip stared at Marc, the tension in the room thicker than ever. Finally relenting, he sank back into himself, turning to kiss Cassie’s cheek.

  “I know...Jesus...I know.” His voice was so quiet I found it difficult to make out his words, “My girl’s a mess, Marc.”

  Cassie’s loud sobs broke through the hostility a
nd all attention in the room shifted her way, watching her fall into her father’s arms. The sorrow seeping from the pair more than palpable. I’d a vague inkling as to their grief and I bet everything they’d been scarred for life.

  “Shh...shh...we’re all right. We’ve done it before, baby, we’ll do it again. I promise, she’ll be okay.”

  He smoothed a hand down her hair, continuing to whisper into her ear. I had no idea what he meant but I didn’t like the sound of it one little bit.

  I cleared my throat before interrupting. “Okay, so what’s the situation now?”

  I felt like a bastard, however, we had to get the ball rolling and get these girls home. Philip looked over the top of his daughter’s head to me.

  “Laura’s calmed down. The paramedics gave her medication to sleep. They’ll take her to the hospital.”

  Cassie sniffled beside him and I watched as Ryder reached out to rub his hand up and down her back, not caring that Philip was glaring daggers in his direction. Nothing much intimidated him, he’d do what he wanted, and right now he was comforting a woman in a way I’d never seen before. I considered him carefully, noting the tender expression of care he had on his face, a look only Ayden and I had ever been on the receiving end of.

  “I’d like it if you could have my driver take Taylor home without any fanfare. A back entrance perhaps?” he asked.

  Taylor?

  Putting two and two together I twigged Cassie was now Taylor. Oh yeah, these girls were running, there was no denying it any longer.

  Ryder spoke up. “Of course. We have two service entries. One down into the parking lot, staff only. The other leads to the alley. Whichever you prefer.”

  Philip moved towards the door, clasping Cassie tightly to his side. “The lot would be best. Five minutes?”

  He disappeared through the door not sparing another glance to any of us. I blew out a breath and looked at Ryder helplessly. What the fuck just happened?

  Lucca