Blackout: A Romance Anthology

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  “Oh,” she went on, “good. Please let me know if there are any shows you’d like to book or restaurants you would like me to reserve for you. Many have long waiting lists and book far in advance, but don’t let that sway you, we can get you in anywhere you’d like to go.”

  Still nothing. He swirled the drink in his hand. The room was silent, other than the ice clinking against the glass. It was starting to feel rather awkward, and Charlie wondered if he had heard the conversation she had with Kandi and it had upset him.

  “Um…the helicopter is at our disposal. It can take you just about anywhere. The jet is also on standby.” She was running out of things to say, sweat was beading at her brow, and that anxious feeling was threatening again. She was ready to run out of there and not look back.

  He’d heard the conversation with Kandi, she surmised. He had to have, given his reaction to Charlie. The man arrived without the typical entourage people who lived at his level tended to travel with. Maybe that was the key. Kandi filled a quick void, but what about the rest of his trip? The man was lonely. That was the only thing that made sense. Despite how much it made her cringe, Charlie could help with that.

  “So, anything you need, Mr. Davenport, just let me know. We can satisfy pretty much any request, as long as it’s legal.” An awkward chuckle followed her words. Afterall, what she was about to offer was technically legal. “We can even provide…companionship, should that be what you desire.”

  That sparked his interest, it seemed. Mr. Davenport turned to face Charlie, and said with a satisfied grin, “Do I get to choose with whom?”

  A wave of nausea overwhelmed Charlie as fear consumed her. Awareness settled in, and chills traced her spine while realization smacked her in the face. She was looking at the face of Henry Davenport, but there was no mistaking that voice. She’d recognize it anywhere. It haunted her sleep and chased her thoughts. It was in her head, buried and dead — until now. She may be looking at tech genius Henry Davenport, but that voice? It was the sound of a serial killer.

  Davenport smiled. “Hello, Emily. Remember me? Or should I say, Charlie.”

  “No,” she said, falling backward onto the steps leading to the foyer and her escape.

  “You’re a hard woman to find these days.” Davenport slowly made his way in her direction. It was as if he was waiting for her to get up and run so he could chase her. This was all part of the game, and he was giving her a head start.

  Charlie failed to move, paralyzed by fear and knowing she was somehow looking at Anson Deveraux, even if he wasn’t recognizable on the outside. His tone, his slither, the way his dark, cold, soulless eyes looked at her. It was undeniable, but how?

  Cane entered her mind. She needed to get to Cane — or at least where he could help her. Her stalker hovered over her as courage and the desire to rid herself of this man once and for all gave way. With a swift kick that held every ounce of strength she could muster, she landed a stiletto clad foot to his groin before she jumped up and ran.

  Slamming the door behind her, she slapped her hand against the elevator call button across the small corridor. It was the penthouse, there should have been an elevator already ready and waiting. That subtle ding filled the air, letting her know she was indeed correct, and the doors opened. Without going inside, she reached around and hit all of the buttons she could feel, but didn’t get on.

  She’d played this scenario over and over in her head — not this exact one, but several similar. Get away, priority one — and she’d succeeded. The elevator would throw him off her trail and force him down the stairs where he would have a hell of a time getting out of the hotel undetected. She knew better than to hit those stairs herself, though. Never be the bait; be the switch.

  Charlie looked over her shoulder to confirm the penthouse door was still shut, and beelined it to the stairwell, knowing her motion should trigger the cameras on the floor and get someone, anyone’s attention. The elevator doors were slow to shut, only just beginning to close, and she could feel Anson Deveraux coming for her on the other side of that door. With a quick push, the stairwell door flew open, creating a loud clatter, just as she wanted. By the time she ran back to the empty penthouse wet bar in the corridor and tucked herself safely behind it to hide, the door slammed with such force, she jumped.

  This wasn’t where it would end. Not by a long shot. She fought too hard to survive this man, and today was the day she revealed who was really in control — her. The sound of the penthouse door had her covering her own mouth to contain the audible dribble of fright she was trying to silence. Anson was tall, heavy in muscle, not dead weight, making the sound of footsteps, his footsteps, obvious as he paced the area. Charlie heard him stall in front of the elevator, the doors having just closed, inevitably watching the digital screen atop decrease in numbers as it made its descent.

  When you can’t see what’s going on around you, listen. That was one of the first skills Charlie had learned — see with your ears, hear with your eyes — they went hand in hand. Eyes closed, breathing slow, calm, and shallow, Charlie nearly felt Anson’s movements as the sound of his stride cut through the air. He was going for the stairs, just as she’d hoped. If Cane was watching, and she hoped like hell he was, he’d lock down the stairs and come for Anson himself. She was sure of that.

  Anson’s movement stopped. She heard him turn on his heel, looking behind him, before proceeding to the stairs. Something had his attention, however. It took her a minute to decide what it was. A rattling sound, then banging. The beeping sound of a keypad followed by a short alarm of sorts. He’d tried the door to the rooftop and found it locked, so he ran to the stairwell door. Charlie could hear it fly open, then slam shut. He was gone. Her nightmare was almost over.

  That many stories high, he’d be in there a while looking for her — or get caught while doing so. Charlie slumped, her hand falling from her mouth, no longer needing to silence herself. Tears threatened, but she didn’t give in. She wasn’t out of the woods yet; she needed to get to safety while she waited for Cane to find her. The penthouse was the only place she could really go. She could block the door and call downstairs from the room phone since she lost her cellphone somewhere in the chaos.

  With one last deep breath, she pushed herself through the fear and found her unsteady footing. It was so quiet, eerie and still unsettling, but she imagined that was normal, given the circumstances. With an ounce of hesitation, she crept toward the penthouse, grateful to find the door open because she wasn’t sure where her master key card wound up.

  It was almost over — she was almost free. With the door closed, she pushed the table that held the large floral arrangement in front of the entrance. Her strength came from somewhere deep — from a place of survival. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have been able to move that heavy beast on her best day, even an inch.

  Her cellphone was dead – no signal. Odd. The room had gone dark as well. Stepping down the foyer steps to the living area, she searched the room, relying on the light coming in from the window to find her way — where the hell was the in-room phone? In a space this large, there should have been several. It was at the edge of the wet bar, almost too convenient when she thought about it.

  Standing at the wall of windows overlooking the strip, she reached for the phone as her reflection caught her attention. Standing behind her was Anson Deveraux.

  A sharp pinch to her neck was followed by her worst fear. She noticed the city going dark as she fell to her knees while her world went dark.

  CHAPTER 7

  Eddie and Skye fell to the bed glistening in sweat after a post elevator tryst in the living room, then the wall, followed by the shower. Their passion for what they did and achieving their goal was of epic proportion. Their passion for each other, more so. Scandal, chaos, danger, and law-breaking deeds made them like a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde — of the fairly inconsequential larceny brand. They were about to trade in petty crime for felony level, but that was only if they
were caught. They never got caught at anything but sex in public. This was just another day for them, even if the stakes were much higher.

  “You ready to get that maid outfit on?” Eddie teased, smacking her bare ass.

  Skye rolled to her side. “Are you going to let me leave it on or…?”

  He pulled her on top of him. “Doubt it.”

  “We have to do this right.” Skye’s tone became serious. “We can’t be too cocky. We mess this up and—”

  With his finger over her lips, Eddie interrupted. “Shhh. I get it, baby. Earlier, in the casino…that was just for fun. And we’ll have more fun cleaning up down there later. This is different.”

  “Just get in and get out?” Skye asked.

  “We’re just checking the place out. See what that Davenport guy has hidden in that penthouse.” Running down the plan one more time gave them both the encouragement they needed. “Just a look. Just in and out. When we’ve played our last hand and we’re ready to ditch town, we hit it.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. “Just a quick in and out. What if he doesn’t have anything?”

  “Oh, he will. I heard them downstairs — biggest money they’ve had here in a while.” Eddie chuckled. “If it’s a dud — just playing devil’s advocate here — we skip it and stay an extra day or two to see who else they have coming in.”

  Skye nodded, her smile forced.

  “Hey, baby,” he said, running his hair through her hair, “we’ve got this. It’s all business from this point on. It’s payday. Big enough payday to get you that dog and white fence.”

  That earned a smile. “A rescue, okay? Maybe two…the two that have been in the shelter the longest and nobody wants.”

  “Deal.” A small kiss was placed on her nose. “Anything you want. We’re already set with what we’ve raked in this week — just going for a cushion — make it last a little.”

  “I can’t wait to see you in that sexy outfit.” She looked at the security uniform hanging in the distance. “So sexy.”

  “One, guys don’t wear outfits. Two, hands off until we’re done. I can’t play, you can’t either,” Eddie said, grabbing a handful of Skye’s ass as he rolled her to her back. “We can play a game of grab ass later — I’ll handcuff you for not polishing my…”

  “Oh my God.” She laughed. “Do. Not. Finish that. You’re so weird. And get that thing,” she said, pointing between her legs where Eddie was suddenly displaying his arousal, “away from me. We have to get ready.”

  Eddie looked at the clock on the bedside table. “You’re right. Davenport should be headed down to the show now.”

  “You’re sure that Kandi chick isn’t going to bug us? She knows we won’t be there tonight, after all.”

  Eddie pushed off the bed. “Told her the day was catching up with us and we were going to stay in and rest. She said she’d leave tickets at the podium for the night club if we changed our minds and wanted something to do later. Said she’d be there to keep me company if you were still tired.”

  “Yeah, I don’t like her,” Skye pouted. “I think she wants to polish your—”

  “Whoa. You know it’s only you for me.” Eddie pulled her from the bed and held her in his arms. “I only have eyes for you. Forever.”

  “Are you trying to get me to give you a quickie before we get to work?” she teased.

  “Tempting, but no. I want you to remember this later, though. We are picking up where we left off.” Eddie dipped his hand between her legs while he dropped his head to her breast, teasing the peak his tongue.

  “I-I…think I can, uh…” her breath caught, followed by a feral moan, “I can remember where we…where we left off.”

  Eddie pulled away slowly. “Good. Now, get dressed, baby. You have a penthouse to clean.”

  She smacked his arm. “That was cruel.”

  “It wasn’t my intention. Think of it more as a promise.” He held out the hanger holding her attire for the evening, a crisp grey, standard issue maid’s uniform. “Hope I grabbed a size that will work.”

  “It looks a little frumpy, but yeah,” she said, pulling it over her head. “It’ll work.”

  “Well, I didn’t want your beautiful tits and tight ass drawing attention to us,” he said with a wink.

  “Wow, Eddie. You really know how to flatter a girl,” Skye said with a slow, laced-in-honey, southern drawl while fanning herself. “How did you get these anyway? You never told me.”

  “Oh, it was no big deal really. I accidentally took the elevator to the basement where I got lost. When a guy showed me back to the elevator to get upstairs, I might have used the key card I swiped from the maids earlier to get into the employee locker room where this week’s uniform service had just left fresh duds. I might have snagged one of those maid carts and took the service elevator to the penthouse floor and parked it in the supply closet on that floor.”

  “I swear, you think of everything.” She laughed.

  “I try, baby. I try.” He finished buttoning his shirt and adjusted his belt. “How do I look?”

  “Like I want to do something really bad and get caught.” Skye locked her arms around Eddie’s neck.

  Eddie’s arms wrapped around her small waist. “You already have…” he paused and looked at the nametag on her dress, “Gina. You’ve stolen my heart, darlin’.”

  Skye replied with an eye-roll and a snort. “And the bad jokes just keep coming.”

  It was the keycard Eddie swiped that got them to the penthouse level on the elevator. Both were mindful to keep their heads down, Eddie going as far as to wear a hat in an effort to avoid being caught or identified on camera. They also took the stairs down several floors and entered the elevator from a different floor so they didn’t incriminate themselves by location — the were suite level, after all.

  In a matter of minutes, they were standing outside their target. A quiet moment passed between them as they each said a silent prayer to the criminal Gods that they would succeed, undetected. They had a lot riding on this. A quick swipe, and Eddie had been proven correct — the maids from earlier either didn’t realize they were missing a universal keycard, or they just hadn’t reported it out of fear of losing their jobs.

  Quietly entering the penthouse, Eddie paused to listen, making sure they were indeed alone. It seemed they were. For extra assurance, he called out, “Hello? Mr. Davenport? Security. Anyone in here?”

  The indelible silence that followed was haunting — it was almost too quiet, but a space that big, completely empty, would feel overwhelmingly eerie to most.

  Skye crossed the room, arms full of linens. “Housekeeping. I have extra towels for you. We offer turn down service too, if you’d like?”

  Still nothing. Davenport wasn’t there. The couple looked at each other and smiled.

  “Let’s get to…” Eddie started, but was interrupted when the lights went out around them.

  “Oh my God, Eddie.” Anxiety filled Skye’s cry. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, turning his cellphone flashlight on while Skye followed the quickly dimming light coming from the wall of windows. “Power outage maybe? Does a place like this trip breakers?”

  “Eddie. I don’t think it’s a breaker,” she said in a monotone voice. “The whole city is going dark, look. One section at a time.”

  “Rolling blackout maybe?” he tossed out as the only idea that crossed his mind. “Weird time of year for that, but…”

  “I don’t know. This doesn’t feel right,” she said. “Maybe we should get out of here. What if he comes back?”

  “What if this is our lucky night?” Eddie said, looking around as a loud hum filled the space. He pointed up as if what he had to say was in that direction. “Back-up generators are already kicking in. They’ll be used for security efforts only like lights in main traffic areas of the hotel, not elevators. If Davenport wants to return to his room, he has to hike. Do you know how long that will take?”

  “Long enough
for us to follow through on the plan and get the hell out of here before he makes it to the top?”

  “You got it. Hold on.” Eddie ran to the door and opened it, slapping a piece of tape he pulled from a roll he had stowed in his pocket over the latch. “The cards may not work now. Who knows how much the generators power or don’t power. That’s our way out — we don’t want to get locked in any more than we want to get locked out.”

  “Good call. Let’s do this and get out of here,” Skye said, pulling out a small flashlight from her waistband. “This may be a bad omen and we’re ignoring it.”

  “Let’s start in the bedroom.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Lockdown — that was protocol for events like this. Cane and his people were prepared for anything and everything, even the occasional rolling blackout. Back-up generators were pulling their weight, feeding the perimeter lights while they closed down the casino floor. Each table had a security escort to the cage where all the chips and cash were locked away securely. The generators were only guaranteed for ninety minutes, but his team had their task down to only minutes.

  Cane knew the drill like the back of his hand. He’d created the plan, after all, and did all the training. The patrons were all cleared from the space, and guards were already posted, only letting people out, not back in. At this point, there wasn’t really anything they could do. Everything worth stealing or messing with had been safely stowed away; it was just precautionary at this point — a means of crowd control.

  Pulling his phone from his pocket, he noted there wasn’t a signal — towers were out too. When one of his guards waved his radio in the air, Cane followed the cue and tried his radio to no avail. No radio signals? That was suspicious, and possibly intentional.

  Making his way to the sports bar where guests could bet on just about anything, he noted the televisions were all blank — no signal. Something catastrophic must have happened and there was no way to find out what — no way for information to get in or out. It was safe to assume internet was blown too.