by Sofia Grey
“Back is fine now, thanks. Will be too busy with Gabe to meet up. Sorry. Maybe another time.”
Anita spoke slowly. “I didn’t know she had back problems.”
I sank my head into my hands. “She doesn’t.” I stayed there a moment, my fingers massaging my skull, wondering what the hell I could do next. I looked up to see four pairs of eyes fixed on me. “I think Gabriel was replying for her.”
12.2 Gabe
I took care to delete the replies as well as the two text messages from Anita. I’d give Suki no more opportunities to see Jon Craigowan.
She was quiet at the moment, the panicked shrieking giving way to a muffled sobbing. Some might have considered it to be a harsh treatment, but it was for her own good. Once she’d had a taste of captivity she’d understand all the more clearly, how freedom should be valued. My father had been driven to use similar methods on my mother, but look how well they’d turned out. She’d become an excellent wife and mother, perfect in every way. Could I be blamed for wanting Suki to be the same? I was truly my father’s son.
All the same, I stayed in the den, the furthest point in the house from our bedroom. I was hunched over, with my hands covering my ears, pressing my palms against my head and squeezing hard, but it still didn’t block out the cries. They continued to ring inside my head.
By 3:00 a.m., she’d either passed out or fallen asleep. I sat beside her, stroking her hair and wondering how long it would take her to submit to me. Was it too much to ask? We’d been so happy together, so well suited. We would be again.
I unfastened the leather cords from her wrists and ankles, kissing the skin beneath, regretting the raw patches. I hadn’t expected her to struggle so much. Fetching a damp cloth, I tenderly wiped her face, bathing her swollen eyes. She was exhausted. Like an overtired child, she didn’t wake as I tended to her, but whimpered when I eventually slid into bed, gathering her in my arms.
“Shush,” I murmured in her ear, “I’ve got you.” I heard her whisper.
“Please, don’t let me go this time.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps the worst was over? Suki would give up work and travel everywhere with me, we’d start our own family and I’d finally take the Championship. God, how much I wanted that, and now it was tantalisingly close.
It would get even closer as I edged Craigowan out of the way, to leave me with a clear shot.
12.3 Suki
I dreamed of Josh.
After yelling for Gabe until I was hoarse, I finally closed my eyes, drifting into a restless dream-filled doze. Was Gabe right about me taking the pills earlier? I certainly had the leaden sensation in my body as well as the metallic aftertaste, but I hadn’t taken them, I’d swear to it. Maybe it was just the champagne. I forced my mind to stay alert. I would not give into panic, not this time. But my struggles were useless and at some point I blacked out.
That’s when Josh came to me, soothing me, caressing me. Loving me. I never wanted him to leave.
In the soft morning light, things looked very different. Gabe held me close, pressing a sleepy kiss against my shoulder. For a moment, I wondered if I’d imagined it all—the theatre, being sick, being tied to the bed… No, there were red friction burns on my wrists. My heart began to pound.
“Morning. How do you feel?” I kept myself very still as he murmured into my hair. One hand swept up to caress the underside of my breast. “You were pretty out of it last night.” A hot kiss beneath my ear. “You were amazing, Suzu. I had no idea.” One hand stole between my legs, inching up the inside of my thighs. “I can’t wait to do that again.” What? A new, cold fear crept over me. In the distant recesses of my mind, I remembered my dream, of Josh making love to me, urgent and passionate. Had that been real, but with Gabe?
I wriggled free of his wandering hands and rolled over to face him. A lazy smile greeted me. “You have hidden depths, my little Suzu.” Before I could speak, his mouth descended and claimed mine, his tongue seeking entrance, his body weight pushing me back against the bed. I could feel him hard against my thigh, one knee nudging my legs apart. I broke free and shifted my head, scrabbling against the pillows to move away from him. “No! Not right now.” I took a deep breath, I couldn’t let this slide. “Gabe, why did you do that last night? Why did you”—my voice caught—”tie me to the bed? Why, Gabe?”
A hurt look crossed his face. He actually pouted. “We were doing a little role-playing, that’s all.” He cupped my cheeks gently with both hands. “You were into it last night, couldn’t get enough of me.”
I swallowed, my mouth dry as the bottom of a budgie’s cage. “I was drunk.”
“D’you only want to make love now, when you’re pissed? That says a lot for me, Suki. Thanks.” He leaned back against his own pillows, arms folded. I eyed him carefully, not sure how to proceed.
“What I mean is, I don’t remember it properly.” I paused, waited until he looked at me. “I remember waking up and I couldn’t move. I was scared, Gabe. You acted like a bully.”
His eyes closed. Next thing, he’s crushing me against his chest, pressing tiny kisses on every patch of skin he could reach. “Suzu, I’m sorry, so sorry. I didn’t want to scare you. I would never want to do that. I love you. You mean everything to me.”
“Why did you do it?” I wanted an answer. He wasn’t going to get away with this.
“We talked about doing some role-playing last week, when we watched the porn together.” He eased back, smiled at me and kissed me tenderly on the lips. “You said you were keen to try it, I’d bought the ties and it just seemed like a great opportunity when you were so chilled out after the theatre.” Chilled out? What planet was he on? “And baby, you were so uninhibited, you were scorching. I’ve never been as turned on by you.”
I stared at him. Smoke grey eyes gazed solemnly back. “Please don’t do it again,” I whispered. His eyes opened wide, he started to argue but I spoke over him, finding my voice now. “It might have been scorching for you, but I don’t remember it like that.”
“Shush.” He pressed a finger to my lips. “Are you saying I imagined how good it was? That you didn’t really moan and tell me to hurry because you couldn’t wait? That you didn’t beg me to fuck you?”
There was nothing I could say, but I knew I would never go through that again. To my unending relief, he decided it was time for us to get up and disappeared for a shower. I lay there and tried to make sense of the night before. It would be ironic, to say the least, if Gabe was now behaving a little crazy. What if all this stress was responsible for his behaviour? He told me repeatedly how much he loved me, how he had my best interests at heart. I couldn’t just walk away without trying to get through this. Every marriage had rough patches. I shivered as I thought again of Josh. How easily I’d been fooled.
I pulled my bathrobe around me and on shaking legs managed to get downstairs without falling over. Drinking all that champagne last night had been a definite mistake. While I waited for the kettle to boil, I made a split second decision. Gabe would be upstairs a few minutes yet, I had time to call Anita. I’d no idea if they were even back in Britain, whether Jon was okay…whether they knew what Josh had done.
She answered on the second ring. “Suki? Is that you?”
I puzzled over the caution in her voice, but didn’t have time to waste. “Of course it’s me. I’ve only got a minute—I wondered how Jon was, if he was still in hospital?”
Her voice was warm now. “He’s fine, thank you, and we were home yesterday. We’ll be heading out to Spa tomorrow—”
I had to interrupt. I was scared Gabe might catch me talking to her. “Anita, Gabe told me what Josh had done, you need to know. He’s not a journalist after all, he lied about that. And he did take those pictures of you, he showed them to Gabe.”
“Yes, I know.” Her rapid reply startled me, I hesitated, then realised I could no longer hear the shower running. Shit. He’d be down in a minute.
“Gabe says Josh tried to b
lackmail him. And he thinks Jon’s drink was spiked, but it was meant for Gabe, the drinks were swapped at the last minute.” I sucked in a quick breath. “He said he’d tell Jon and he’s reported it to the police.”
“Suki—”
“I have to go. But please be careful if Josh approaches you. Gabe doesn’t trust him.” Even as I said it, I hated the words. Right now I didn’t trust Gabe, the way he was behaving towards me.
“Suki. Did you get my texts last night?”
I could hear Gabe coming down the stairs. “Got to go,” I repeated, terminating the call and shoving the phone deep into my pocket. By the time he strolled into the kitchen, knotting a grey silk tie around his neck, I was adding a splash of milk to his morning tea. That had been close. I clearly remembered his threats last night about not seeing the Craigowans again, and until I’d figured out what the hell I was going to do, I didn’t want to give him any opportunity to hurt me again.
12.4 Josh
I felt wiped out in the morning. Lying in Jon’s spare bed, I gazed out of the open curtains at the beautiful scenery beyond while I sifted through last night’s events. The texts to and from Suki. The bizarre way I’d helped Sylvie with her headache. The disappointment of driving back to Castle Greyskull and finding—not surprisingly—that Dante had fled after all, with my money, of course. I’d yelled in fury at finding him gone, even though in his shoes, I’d have probably done the same. It was only to be expected the phone number he’d given me was out of order.
Then there was the sensuous, incredible dream about Suki. I closed my eyes as I tried to conjure her in my head again. Apart from fleeting images of her writhing beneath me and kissing me until I was breathless, it was all a blur. Damn, it had been good, I remembered that much. And it had been set in that bedroom again, but with none of the other details of the previous recurring dream.
Yeah, I was probably just suffering from lack of sleep.
I was halfway to dozing off again when I heard Anita call me through the closed door. Sitting up, I tugged the duvet higher and answered. She came in looking anxious.
“Suki just rang.”
“For me?” A fierce shaft of hope emerged, but Anita shook her head.
“No, for me. But I think you’re right, I don’t think she was answering those texts last night.”
Jon appeared now, a giggling Mindy in his arms, as Anita recapped the brief conversation she’d had.
“Gabe hasn’t spoken to me and I’ll bet he hasn’t been to the police.” He eyed me with a serious look on his face. “Do you think Suki believes him?”
I shrugged. The more I heard about Gabriel, the more I despised him. As to why Suki stayed married to him… he had to have some redeeming features, unless she felt trapped and unable to leave. Even as I wondered about that, I discounted it. She’d been quite clear with me: she loved her husband. I suppressed a shudder.
“How do you feel about going back to Paris?”
I stared at Jon before answering his question. “Go and ask some more questions? I was thinking about that. I could talk to the chambermaids, maybe find an excuse to look at the security cameras. Find some way to confirm how long Gabriel spent in your room.”
“And I had another thought. You know the mobile phone that sent me the text?” He offered me a smile. “There’s something we all forgot to look at.” Anita turned to stare at him, a matching smile breaking out.
“The number was unfamiliar,” he explained, “and that’s all we looked at. But if you check the area code, you’ll see it originated from a French phone. The incoming number was prefixed 0033. Mine is a UK phone, carried with me to France. I’m guessing yours is, too.” I nodded. “So the caller had to have bought the phone, or the SIM card, in France. The publicity team took us on a whistle-stop tour of Paris in between filming and we included some stops for gift shopping. Now let’s assume it was Gabe and that’s when he bought the phone, since we didn’t have much free time apart from that.”
He paused and beamed at me. “How do you feel about asking the mobile phone outlets if they sold a handset to Gabe?”
I laughed. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. In practice, we only went in one department store that sold electronics. Le Studio SFR.” He shrugged. “It’s a long shot, but it might be worth a try.”
I thought hard. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”
We already knew from the hospital blood tests that Jon had been given a valium-based tranquilliser. Mixed with alcohol, especially in someone who drinks little, it could have unpredictable results, but essentially would amplify the effects of the alcohol. Since Suki’s pills were a Valium derivative, and Gabriel had the opportunity to tamper with Jon’s drink, we all believed he was behind this.
Proving it would be the hard part.
12.5 Gabe
Life suddenly felt good.
Suki had become pliant and adoring, docile after taking her pills. She drifted through the airport beside me, smiling vacantly at the clutch of fans rushing forwards for my autograph. I was tipped as the favourite for the Spa race, I’d been awarded the title of Sexiest Sportsman by H.O.T. magazine and I was in negotiations for a huge series of adverts for Volkswagen. Mum came with us, ostensibly to support me for the race, but in practice, to look after Suki. I draped my arm around Suki’s shoulders and dropped a kiss against her temple as the airport journos flashed their cameras.
I wasn’t used to taking second place to anyone, and this next race would confirm my supremacy on the racetrack.
Suki leaned against me on the flight, her eyes closed. I couldn’t tell if she was asleep, but I relished the feeling of her head against my shoulder. Memories of our wedding day flickered in my mind, the flight out to Venice for our honeymoon. She’d slept against me then, too. Suki had looked so beautiful, so eager as we made our vows, promising to love me forever while I made a silent promise to protect her. Looking back, I couldn’t be sure what I wanted to protect her from, apart from myself.
12.6 Josh
I hauled my ass back to Paris and called in the troops. To my relief, Danielle and Dev were keen to help and we drew up a plan of attack, Dev coming with me to the hotel, and then we’d tackle Le Studio SFR. I’d been ready for us to pose as journalists, an act familiar and easy to me, but Dev smiled and took charge, explaining he was a lawyer. We established which of the staff were on duty that night and armed with a list of names, made arrangements to go back in the evening to talk to them. So far, so easy.
Alas, my idea of checking out the security camera footage came to nothing. Although there were cameras in every elevator and corridor, Jon’s room was too far out of range. Since Gabriel’s room had been on the same floor any footage we might find would be next to useless.
We retired to a nearby backstreet bar and I chatted with Dev over coffee and a pastis chaser, an aniseed flavoured liqueur, while we waited for Danielle to meet us. Her face glowed when she walked in, greeting Dev with a passionate kiss and myself with a quick hug and air kisses.
“Well?” She smiled happily at us over the drinks Dev had already ordered for her. “Are you going to say congratulations, Danielle?”
Dev looked surprised. I was cautious. “What did you find?”
A smug little smile. “I pretended to be the lowly assistant to Monsieur Bridgewater, tasked with finding the receipt for the phone he’d bought the day before. I pleaded with the guy behind the counter, cried a little as I told him my job was on the line. And… voila!” With a flourish she produced a slip of paper from her bag and waved it in front of us. “The receipt.” Her smile broadened as she smoothed the paper on the tabletop. “It is a copy, of course, but he was more than happy to reprint it for me. He was excited enough to have served the sporting legend Gabriel Bridgewater, reproducing the receipt in order to save his beautiful, but incompetent, assistant was no trouble at all.”
We pored over the printout. It showed clearly the date and time of purchase, the model of phone, the credit preloade
d—and the name and address of the customer. Gabriel Bridgewater, his home address in Wilmslow. And crucially, the phone number assigned.
I sat back in my seat and called the waiter for more pastis. With this information we could allege that Gabriel had sent the text to Jon and it was pretty damning. The greater charge of tampering with Jon’s drink and calling up the prostitute were other matters entirely. Still, I felt justified in celebrating a little.
We went back to the hotel as a group, finding, to my interest, we had two potential witnesses to talk to. One of the chambermaids, Tish, went first. I liked her instantly; bright red curls framed an angelic young face, she was animated and pretty.
Settled into a side office, with Dev and Danielle doing the talking, I leaned against the wall, happy to observe. I sensed she was honest and keen for us to believe her, and I felt a ripple of excitement as her story unfolded.
“It was my break, I’d gone outside to the yard for a cigarette.” She spoke slowly for my benefit and I could follow her French easily. “I was chatting to Serge, the porter, when these scooters drove up, four of them.” Her eyes grew wide. “It was the paparazzi,” she breathed, “and the putain—La Monique—arrived with them.” She nodded to underline that fact.
Danielle leaned forward. “She arrived with them? Or were they following her?”
“With them. She sat behind one of them on his scooter. She kissed him when she climbed off.” She winked at us. “And not on the cheeks.”
Her boyfriend perhaps? Sadly, there was little more she could tell us. “She slipped into the hotel by herself. I followed her in.”
“And the journos?” Dev asked.
“They waited in the yard. They were all on their phones. It sounded like they were calling more to the hotel.” She shrugged. “I didn’t see anything after that.”
Danielle was quick to thank her and she shrugged again. “I feel sorry for Monsieur Craigowan. He’s a nice guy and his wife is lovely.”
