“Anthony can you see this?”
He nodded.
“This is frovatriptan,” he said. “It’s a rare drug, a chemical that’s used in medications that are prescribed to patients with severe cluster headaches. There’s nothing about that in your medical record.”
Anthony was confused. What the hell was the doctor talking about?
“It was in your blood. Any idea how it could have got there?”
Cassie was looking at him with a haughty skepticism. Her arms were crossed and her eyes were fixed on him, waiting for an answer.
“No, doc. I don’t know how it got there. I’ve never taken that in my life, never even heard of it.”
The doctor began scribbling in his file.
“There were quite large amounts of it in your system. It would certainly explain why you were….”
“Crazy?”
“I was going to say feeling under the weather.”
“Could it explain why he was out of it, down there in the chapel?” Cassie butted in.
The doctor thought for a second, tapping his pen against his teeth.
“Possibly. Although it would certainly explain how you crashed your car.”
“It wasn’t my car,” Anthony explained.
The doctor waved his hand dismissively.
“Ok… Well, that’s not my place to know. I just wanted to tell you about your blood results.”
“Thanks,” Cassie said. “It’s important to know.”
She ran her eyes over the page. It would seem that, as well as Anthony’s story, there was something tangible that could be used as evidence. She watched as the doctor left the room and pushed her tablet back in her bag.
“The injection,” Anthony blurted out.
“What did you say?”
“He gave me an injection,” he said, this time with an angry emphasis. “He was testing on us.”
Chapter Fifteen
Bertie was driving as slow as he could. It wasn’t because he was a safe driver but was rather because he was reluctant to reach his destination. The snow was coming down in diagonal sheets, cascading across the windshield of his new Mercedes. He thought it was so kind of Batista to gift it to him but he knew he had ulterior motives. Now, as he drove into the darkness, his heart sank as he thought about the task at hand. He hated violence, it made him nauseous but he couldn’t say no to his boss, it just wasn’t an option.
The drive down to Portland wasn’t a long one but the road seemed to drag on forever and the journey was only made worse by the treacherous weather. The heating was making him sleepy and he yawned and shook himself as he tried to wake up. As he watched his headlights illuminate the few feet in front of him, he thought of every possible scenario where he could get out of doing what he had to. Then he shook his head. It was no use, the Batista family owned him, or at least it felt that way. He just had to do what he was told and get on with his life, praying that he wouldn’t have to do it again.
Reaching the center of Portland, he could see the hospital rise up from the surrounding buildings like a ship in the night. It looked intimidating with its granite body and electric lit windows that peered out like a thousand eyes. Parking in the rear, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a sheet of paper. Wrapped inside it was a glass vial, smaller than his pinky finger and a plastic coated needle that was little wider than a strand of silk. It would barely leave a mark. He pulled the plastic from its tip and attached it to the vial before inserting it into the hollowed out Epipen he was given. He gripped it hard as he stepped out the car and braced himself against the cold, the piece of paper in his hand fluttering in the wind.
Running to the back door, he blustered his way through the sliding doors with the snow and the wind propelling him forward. He heard it straight away. Silence. Despite there having to be almost two thousand people in the building, he couldn’t hear a sound. He looked at his watch. It was five minutes to midnight. He wanted the job done by five past at the very latest. Holding the paper in front of his face, he noticed the page was quivering in his nervous fingers.
“Calm down, you fool. You’ll get caught if you look suspicious, if you lose your cool,” he whispered to himself.
He took a deep breath and folded the paper into a neat square, sliding it into his back pocket. Then he pressed the button for the elevator and waited.
Chapter Sixteen
The ward was dark, silent, except for the distant beep of a heart monitor. Cassie was half-heartedly reading a magazine but her eyes were only scanning the photos. She tried to focus her mind on an article but couldn’t and so rolled up the magazine and slid it into her bag.
“You can go if you like,” Anthony murmured through sleepy lips.
“I thought you were out for the count,” she jumped at hearing his voice.
“Nah,” he pushed himself up on his elbows. “This pain in my side…”
“You want me to call you the doctor? You need more morphine?”
He thought for a second before shaking his head.
“No, it’s ok.”
Cassie looked up and saw he was staring at her with a peculiar glint in his eyes.
“What?” she screwed up her face.
He shrugged.
“Nothing just… I’m happy you’re still here. Although don’t you have work to do?”
She looked up at the clock. She should have returned to the station hours ago. In fact, she should have returned to the station, finished her day and headed home hours ago but somehow she felt a tremendous peace being beside Anthony. They didn’t know each other, not really, but still there was this connection, a sense of friendship that she couldn’t quite identify. Anyway, what was she to do if she went home? Guzzle a bottle of red wine and pass out in front of a rerun of the Gilmore Girls? And she couldn’t be bothered putting up with Matt and his sulkiness. No, she was fine here, looking after the burly boy with the tatts and the mysterious story.
“This is work,” she explained to him. “You’re my priority.”
“Well,” he blushed. “You certainly know how to make a guy feel special.”
She smiled and turned away.
“So…” he shifted in his bed. “Don’t you have, you know, a family to go home to? Kids?”
She shook her head.
“How about a boyfriend?”
Again, she shook her head.
“You’re not telling me a girl like you is single, are you?”
She felt his eyes burning on her.
“Yeah, I’m single. Don’t have time for romance.”
“You have time for fun through right?”
His face was shining with the cheekiness of a schoolboy. She imagined climbing up on the bed and straddling him, kissing his bruised face and promising that she’d take care of him. Glancing through the window she looked out onto the ward. A single bored nurse was sat at the front desk with a book in her hand and a cup of coffee beside her. Somewhere another nurse was fussing over a patient. The lights were dimmed and a solitary lamp glowed from the nurse’s office. Maybe she could pull the curtains and no one would notice. Looking back at Anthony she saw he was thinking the same thing, his eyes darting over the ward outside the room. Calm down, Cassie, she thought. You can’t do it. He’s vulnerable, needs help not a fuck. But that look of his, it was searing into the back of her head. She found herself rising from her seat although she knew she shouldn’t.
“I don’t normally do this,” she said as she sat on the side of his bed. “I mean… I shouldn’t.”
He reached out his hand. This last time he’d done that he’d held her with the death grip of a madman but now his touch was soft. He stroked a fingertip down the inside of her wrist. It sent a shockwave of tingles up her arm. He raised his head, waiting to be kissed. She instinctively lowered hers to meet his lips. Don’t… You could lose your job. But her body betrayed her mind and she felt her lips brush against his. She could taste the blood and salt on his skin but it only aroused her with
its visceral rawness. Her thighs grew damp, her panties soaked through from the excitement of doing what she knew she shouldn’t.
“Two seconds,” she pulled away.
Making her way to the window, she pulled the curtains closed but not before the nurse at the desk glanced up from her book. Turning around, she stood at the end of the bed and began to peel the clothes from her body, starting with her shirt. Still, not knowing whether she should go ahead or not, she took her time, unfastening each button with a deliberate slowness. The lust in Anthony’s eyes was fierce as he watched every button with a lustrous fascination. As her shirt fell from her shoulders to reveal her pale and delicate collar bone, he pushed out a hand as though he could touch her from where he lay.
“Don’t move,” she stepped closer. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“You’re the boss,” he grinned.
She placed her hand on his chest, slowly pushing him down into the bed so he was in a more comfortable yet passive position. Then she pulled back the bed sheets. A drip was still in his arm and again, she wondered if she should be taking advantage of him. Hesitating, she lingered for a moment, feeling exposed with just her bra covering her erect nipples. Sensing her unease, Anthony touched a hand to her face.
“It’s ok,” he soothed. “I want it.”
Running a hand over her breasts, he cupped them gently, feeling their voluptuous firmness between his fingers. She let out a sigh, pushed herself closer to him then could hold back no more. Ripping her bra from her body, she threw it to the ground before unzipping her pants with a speed she didn’t know possible. She kicked her shoes across the room and pulled the last of her clothes from her body, her underwear landing somewhere under the bed. The bed creaked as she jumped on it and she felt the soft, hospital mattress beneath her knees as she sank into it, cradling his body with her thighs. He grew hard beneath his hospital gown which she pulled from his muscular, bruise ripened body. Running a hand over his stomach, she leaned down and kissed his injuries and felt him quiver below her lips.
There was a noise out in the ward, nurses were rushing past. Cassie felt as though she was on the brink of being caught at any moment by a doctor doing his rounds or a nurse wanting to check vitals.
“We’re going to have to be quick,” she whispered.
“I don’t want to wait any longer,” he lay back and pulled down his boxer shorts.
His penis sprung out, long and hard with his tip throbbing and swollen. Cassie wrapped her fingers around it, felt the girth in her hand and the way she could feel his heartbeat against her palm.
“You’re so fucking hot,” she grunted as she sat on him, pushing his penis into her slightly. “I knew you were gorgeous the first time I saw you.”
And she lowered herself down, more and more until he was inside her, penetrating her deeper and deeper until he was pressed up hard against her g spot. Her juices seeped out from her, caressing his cock with her wetness. She closed her eyes and flung her head back, riding him slowly at first before moving faster. Building herself up into a frenzy, she bounced on him hard, desperate to feel him harder. The bed creaked and groaned beneath them with its metal frame banging against the wall. She bit down on her thumb as she came, her thighs shaking as her pussy trembled. Anthony wanted to rip out and yell but knowing he couldn’t, he gritted his teeth and pulled at the bed sheets, his nail beds growing white with the effort. With one final thrust they both let out a gasp as they came in unison, and it was over with their sweat covered bodies struggling to catch a breath.
Cassie fell on to him, her soft hair landing on his chest. For a moment, she held him tight, kissing his chest as she gasped. Then she sat up and looked into his eyes, her cheeks pink and her brow damp.
“Don’t tell a soul,” she whispered.
“I promise,” he winked.
Chapter Seventeen
Bertie stepped out onto the ward with a shaky foot and a heavy heart. He wished he didn’t have to do it but he also knew he had no other choice. The man had said enough already and if the truth ever got out, Batista would be sure to go to jail and what would happen to Bertie then? He’d be without a master, without the man who had become his surrogate son for all these years.
He could see the nurses occupied amongst the small side rooms of the ward. If he was quick they wouldn’t see a thing. With his shoes treading silently, he scurried like a cat across the ward. Anthony’s room was easy to find, it was the one closest to the nurse’s desk. They always kept the most vulnerable, media worthy patients as close to them as possible. However, as he approached, he noticed the curtain was drawn. He wouldn’t be able to see if the coast was truly clear until he was inside. There was a small slit in the curtain, he pressed his face up to the glass to see through it but all that he noticed was the sturdy metal of the bedside locker and the bottom of a drip stand. Down the hall, a nurse’s shoes patted the linoleum and he took his chance, knowing he only had seconds until he was seen. With one hand on the door handle, he held his breath and pushed his way inside.
Cassie had dressed herself but, not wanting to tear herself away from Anthony, had remained beside him. Sat in the uncomfortable, faux leather chair with her body leant forward, resting on the bed, she fell in and out of sleep. Anthony kept his hand in hers as he slept, the warmth of her company relaxing him.
Cassie’s dreams were fractured. Strange images of people from her childhood mingled with her work and everything in her present life. She stirred in her sleep, heard something strange. Footsteps. In her dream they were approaching her down a long hallway, invisible and threatening. Then she opened her eyes. They weren’t just in her dream. They were real and they were in front of her.
Across the bed stood a man with wispy, gray hair and sunken dark eyes surrounded by wrinkled, saggy skin. He was dressed in an immaculate suit with a crisp blazer and a red tie. At first she assumed he was a visitor for Anthony, maybe a grandfather or a distant uncle. He appeared to be ignoring her, assuming she was still sleeping with his hand shaking as he held onto something in his pocket. Then he pulled something out. In her sleepy state she thought it was just a pen, until he pulled off the lid and revealed the needle. She sat up, panicked, reached for her gun.
“Freeze!”
He jumped, glared at her and turned his head as though he was thinking about running. Anthony opened his eyes and saw the needle.
“Who are you?” Cassie asked, her gun pointed at his head.
He didn’t answer. He took one look at the syringe then, with his eyes closed tight, he pointed it toward his own neck.
“I said freeze!” Cassie screamed. “Don’t move. Put the syringe down.”
He opened his eyes for a fraction of a second. It was long enough to look at Anthony with the most remorseful of gazes before he closed them again and resigned himself to his fate. He took a deep breath and before Cassie could move, he plunged the needle into his neck. He convulsed, his spine shaking as his limbs flayed. Then he fell to the ground, the last of his breath drifting out of him.
Epilogue
The station was hectic and busy but that was usual for a Saturday night. Matt was sat at his desk, his fingers pinching at his forehead. He was grumbling to himself as he filled out paperwork. Across from him, Cassie was pulling on her coat and reaching for her car keys.
“Hey, where they hell do you think you’re going so early?”
“I have a date.”
“A date? With who?”
She smiled guiltily.
“Please don’t tell me it’s with our vic… Anthony erm…”
“Anthony Umber. Yeah, I have a date with him.”
She picked up her bag and turned on her heel.
“Wait,” Matt stopped her. “How is he doing? He’s been out the hospital a week now hasn’t he?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “He’s going to be ok, I hope.”
“I hope so too.”
“It’s going to take a long time though… Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow
,” she walked away with a smile and a wave.
“But wait, sorry… I just wanted to say that… we’ll catch Batista. We will.”
Cassie lowered her head.
“I’ll make sure we will,” she said to herself more than Matt. “I’ll make sure we will.”
About The Author
Brooke Kinsley has been in love with words since the day she took her first breath. She loves writing steamy, sexy stories with very strong guys who fall deeply in love with the women they flirt. Coffee and wine inspired her stories and she thinks every person should partake in! Brooke lives in Quebec, Canada with her boyfriend. When she's crafting stories, she's probably playing with her two cats.
The Billionaire's Trap Page 7
