The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.)

by Marnie Perry

  Glissando said, ‘I’m happy to hear it, Mr. Hennessey, I was beginning to think you’d never get there.’

  Hennessey wanted to say fuck you, but didn’t want Glissando to think he could rile him so said calmly, ‘these things take time, Glissando, she’s not like the woman you’re used to dealing with. She’s inexperienced and wary,’ he picked up one of the stocking that was draped over the end of the bath where she had put it earlier, he ran his finger up and down the silky material before adding, ‘she’s not a whore or a Geisha, she’s a lady, you can remember what one of those is can’t you? If you’re not satisfied with my progress then send in your two goons to beat it out of her otherwise if want me to do this right then let me do it my way. After all this was your idea.’

  Hennessey could almost felt the hatred Glissando was sending down the line. Maybe he shouldn’t push him, but he had to convince him that he was making progress his way and would have results very soon. Otherwise he would send those two idiots then he would lose his five million and all the hard work he had put into this project would be wasted. Plus, his dreams of that yacht and his own plane would be lost forever. And to be beaten to it by those two numbskulls didn’t bear thinking about; he might even have to kill them and Glissando too, just for the wasted time alone.

  Glissando said, ‘all right, but don’t take much longer, my patience won’t last forever, Mr. Hennessey, I want Desi back and I want her back soon, understood.’

  Hennessey almost laughed, Glissando didn’t pull him up for leaving out the mister in his name and at the same time didn’t dare to miss it out of his. He said, ‘understood. I have to go now, Miss. Faraday will be cooling off, and we wouldn’t want that would we.’

  He heard Glissando give what he thought was a snigger but he covered it up with a cough. He said, ‘well get to it then, Mr. Hennessey, no need for me to tell you to do your best is there.’

  ‘None.’ He switched off the phone. Fucking jerk. But at least he had bought more time, not that he would need much more of that. If he was the man he thought he was, and he was, and if he knew women, and he did, and if he could make Miss. Adela Faraday come to him and he could, she would be his by morning.

  CHAPTER 23.

  Hennessey used the toilet then washed his face and hands then went back out to the living room. She was in the kitchen pouring a glass of water. He could see a pair of shorts and a camisole top under the bathrobe so she had changed into her pyjamas. She turned to him and said matter of factly, too matter of factly, ‘there’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet if you would like it.' He smiled not at her offer but that she was obviously attempting to hide the inner turmoil that had overtaken her before he had left the room by changing the subject.

  As if to prove his point she said, ‘I must have missed the mention of all this rain on the weather forecast this morning.’ She nodded towards the window where they could hear the rain still pounding against the glass.

  Well if that was how she wanted to play it he would go along…for now. But he wasn’t concerned, he knew what would happen. She was on the cusp and all he had to do was wait for her to fall all the way over the edge. He just had to wait and be patient and he was good at both of those things.

  He said, ‘Yeah, it’s like that here, the rain comes suddenly and takes us by surprise, and when it rains, I mean it rains, as you can see.’

  She smiled, ‘yes, Americans never seem to do anything in small measures.’

  He laughed, ‘I suppose that’s can be a good thing and a bad thing.’

  Then to his chagrin she asked, ‘did I hear you talking to yourself in the bathroom, or were you speaking to someone on your mobile phone? Just for the record, I sincerely hope it was the latter.’

  He managed to answer casually, ‘I was calling the hotel to tell them I wouldn’t be returning there tonight.’ This was true, he had called them. ‘I hope that allays any fears you might have about my sanity.’

  She laughed, ‘phew, that’s a relief.’ then as if suddenly realising what he’d said her face took on a concerned expression. He knew of course what she was thinking and he grinned, ‘don’t worry, I told them I was staying with a friend in Biloxi.’

  She looked very relieved then worried again, ‘but your car is parked in the town and people would have seen us leave together earlier.’

  'I’ll get up early in the morning before anyone is about and move it. If anyone asks, like your friend old Maxwell, just tell them I put you in a cab and you came home alone. A headache or something.’

  ‘But that would make it look as though you’d abandoned me for your friend.’

  He shrugged then grinned, ‘I put you in a cab didn’t I?’

  The look she gave him was a mixture of exasperation and gratitude. He said, ‘don’t worry about what people think about me, I don’t.’

  ‘Well, thank you, gentleman Hennessey.’

  He laughed, ‘I was taught never to compromise a lady’s moral integrity.’

  She laughed out loud. ‘Your mama brought her son up very well.’

  The smile faded and his face clouded, he looked away but not before she had seen his jaw clench. She wondered what she had said that had caused the smile to vanish and that closed look she had seen before to come down over his face.

  He stood up and went towards the door, she looked alarmed and said, ‘are…are you leaving?’

  He didn’t look at her as he said; ‘only to go to my car, I’ve left something, something important. I won’t be long; lock the door behind me.’

  She watched him leave closing the door behind him; she locked it feeling suddenly very alone, despite what she had said. She desperately wanted him to stay and had been afraid for a moment that she had said something to upset him and he had changed his mind and decided to leave.

  He was back in less than ten minutes carrying the box of chocolates he had given to her in the car. He handed them to her saying, ‘in out haste earlier, we forgot these.’

  She smiled mostly with relief but also at his thoughtfulness. She took them from him and said, ‘thank you so much, but there was no need for you to go and get them now, they would have done tomorrow.’

  He reached out to take them from her, ‘I’ll take them back then shall I?’

  She held them to her chest, ‘oh no you don’t, I’ve told you, chocolates are very important to me, I’ll fight to the death for them.’

  He smiled broadly but was thinking, chocolates won’t be the only thing you’ll be fighting to the death for very soon, Miss. Faraday.

  She said, ‘I won’t open them now, my tongue is a little sore and I don’t want to wipe off the antiseptic you put on either.’

  She saw his cheek bones move up and down as his face hardened and knew he was thinking about how she had been injured. To distract him she said, ‘I’ll open them when I’m all alone so as not to let my good manners get the better of my common sense and feel compelled to share them.’

  He laughed out loud, ‘good for you, there ought to be at least one thing we feel selfish about in our lives.’ She laughed too and he said, ‘well I don’t know about you but I’m beat.’

  She said, ‘er, yes I am rather tired.’ She was suddenly uncomfortable and embarrassed again, he felt it like a psychical thing.

  ‘I’ll take you up on that offer of the toothbrush.’ He turned and went into the bathroom leaving her once more staring at the door.

  She pulled herself together and quickly tipped the water from the glass she had been holding onto the sink and hurried to the bed. She got in still wearing her dressing gown but once under the covers she removed it, she didn’t want to but if she wore it in bed it would look as though she didn’t trust him, besides, despite the rain it was still much too hot.

  She lay tense and anxious, the top cover pulled up to her neck like a shield.

  She heard him turn off the tap and a few seconds later the bathroom door open.

  She couldn’t decide whether to look at him and
say “goodnight” casually as if having a man in her house, in her room was the most natural thing in the world, or to close her eyes and feign sleep, but then who fell asleep that quickly? No one, except perhaps a narcoleptic. So she smiled at him as he came into the room. He smiled back, but inwardly he was laughing his head off. Just look at her, he thought, lying there like a virgin waiting to be ravished. Well little virgin, your wish is my command. But he played the game he had initiated and walked over to the bed but stopped three feet from it so as not to spook her. She looked at him wide eyed gripping the cover even tighter pulling it up so that it almost covered her mouth. He said simply, ‘goodnight, sleep well.’

  She gulped before replying, ‘goodnight, Sterling.’

  He stood a moment looking down at her his eyes bright and full of something her inexperienced mind could not name. Then abruptly he turned from her and walked to where the light switch was situated and turned off the lights. The sigh he heard from the bed was one of relief and disappointment, but to his satisfaction more of the latter than the former. He lay down on the sofa put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

  Adela couldn’t even begin to analyse the array of emotions surging through her. She was relieved that he had not taken what they had been talking about any further. Relieved because she was not sure she was ready, she did not want to disappoint him with her ignorance and inexperience in the bedroom. But she was filled with disappointed that he hadn’t made a move to come to her.

  Or maybe he wasn’t too concerned whether they made love or not, perhaps he was a take it or leave it kind of man. No, he was interested she knew it; she had seen it in his eyes and felt it in his touch, not even she was that innocent that she did not recognise desire when she saw it. Oh she wished he was not a man of such great restraint and principles.

  She wished he had not left it to her to decide whether she wanted him in her bed or not, and she knew that was what he had done, left it to her to take the initiative. But she was not sure enough, not confident enough, not courageous enough.

  His voice was no more than a whisper but it startled her and made her jump guiltily as he asked, ‘are you still awake?’

  ‘Y…yes.’ She hated herself for stammering but couldn’t prevent it.

  His tone was very soft as he went on, ‘I just wanted to say, I’m sorry about what happened to you tonight. We were having such a good time and it was ruined by those three assholes, well, four assholes if I count myself. Anyway, I’m sorry you were hurt. But I hope you don’t leave Mississippi remembering what happened tonight and not all the good, fun things that have happened and the decent people you’ve met,’ she heard the smile in his voice now ‘not to mention the panther of course.’

  There was a silence from the bed until her own voice a whisper she said, ‘Sterling, I can’t promise I’ll forget tonight, because I don’t want to forget. No man has ever been concerned enough to be angry with me as you were when I left the door open earlier. No man has ever taken me to dinner at such a wonderful place, and no man has ever bought me flowers and pinned them to my dress. We had a wonderful time, we talked and laughed. And I enjoyed meeting your friend Carson. I’ll probably never do anything like that again in the rest of my life. I don’t want you to be sorry for giving me an evening I will never forget.’

  This time the silence came from his end of the room. His mind went over her words, so softly spoken, so sincerely meant. He hadn’t expected that, he had expected her to say it’s all right, or don’t worry, or some other trite response, not what she had said. He had wanted to plant the memory of this evening’s débâcle in her mind just before she went to sleep, but he kept underestimating her, her capacity to forgive a wrong, to accept what she could not change, and to see some good in everything and everyone.

  The sudden urge to get up from the couch open the door run all the way to Glissando’s mansion and shoot the bastard dead was great just then, for offering him this job, for putting temptation in his way. But he comforted himself with the fact that he felt this way sometimes just before a hit. He had seen a target talking in a bar, laughing and happy and having fun. He had seen a target at his white picket fence in the morning kissing his wife goodbye. Or a target in the park with his dog, throwing a stick then laughing and rubbing the dog’s belly when he brought it back. It was not guilt he had felt, that word had vanished from his vocabulary and his conscience a long time ago. No, it was not guilt he had felt but a kind of pathos, a certain sympathy.

  But this woman aroused something deeper than that in him. Sympathy yes, for the sad, lonely life she had led, pity for her situation, not really of her own making, she was just unfortunate enough to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was the means of earning him an astronomical amount of money. But in his way, in his own disturbed, deranged way he had a certain affection for her. She was easy to like, it would be even easier to let her get to him, but he was stronger than that, more despicable than that, less human than that. Okay, he liked her, but a job was a job and after it was done he would have no trouble sleeping, and if he did he could always count to five million.

  He said, ‘you’re a very special woman, Adela Faraday.’

  ‘If being special means telling the truth then yes, I’m special.’ She heard him chuckle and she said again, ‘goodnight, Sterling.’

  There was a small hesitation before he said softly, ‘goodnight.’

  Her last thought before she fell asleep, apart from she would never be able to sleep was, that again he had not replied in kind by saying, “goodnight, Adela,” she racked her mind to recall when he had called her simply Adela.

  ********

  She was fighting, fighting someone who held her against something solid that hurt her back; she was trying to stop them tearing her dress from her shoulders. She tried to hit out at the attacker, to kick him, but there was something wrapped around her and she couldn’t make contact with the solid form. She tried to scream but there was something soft and stifling pressed over her mouth. She struggled and hit out at the person holding her so tightly but they were too strong. Then she heard a voice, ‘hey, hey, it’s all right, calm down, it’s okay.’

  She continued to struggle until he said, ‘it’s me, it’s all right, you’re dreaming, wake up.’

  She did. Her eyes sprung open and the first thing she saw after the haze had cleared was a face just inches from her own. She drew back in fear hitting her head on the headboard as she did so but not feeling it. The room was dark except for the light from the small bedside lamp which he had obviously switched on; it cast eerie shadows over the bed and the wall. His voice was calm and gentle, ‘it’s all right, it’s okay, it’s only me, I won’t hurt you. You were having a nightmare, a pretty nasty one too, which is not altogether surprising considering.’

  She continued to stare at him with suspicion and fear for a few seconds then as if suddenly realising who he was she let out a breath, whether of relief or fright he couldn’t be sure, probably a mixture of both. He drew back a little so as not to crowd her and also to assure he intended her no harm, not yet anyway.

  He said, ‘are you okay now?’ She drew in a sharp breath then nodded her head. He said, ‘I’ll get you some water.’ He stood up and she moved back quickly. He stayed where he was for a moment looking down at her and frowning, then turned and went to the kitchen.

  When he came back she was sitting in the same place leaning against the headboard, this time the bedcover was pulled up to her neck as it had been earlier.

  He handed her the water and as she took it he noticed her hand trembled. He sat on the bed again but this time at the foot not wanting to get too close and frighten her again.

  He said softly, ‘the nightmare was about what happened at the club, those guys, I take it.’

  She nodded, ‘it was horrible, I thought I was suffocating.’

  'You had the bedcover over your face,’ he smiled, ‘you didn’t seem to want to relinquish it.’

 
‘Oh.’ She shook her head, ‘I’m so sorry, Sterling.’

  ‘He frowned perplexed, ‘for what?’

  ‘For reacting the way I did when you woke me. I thought…I thought…

  ‘That I was trying to attack you?’

  Instead of turning red her face paled as she nodded meekly. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  He smiled, ‘don’t worry, you were having a nightmare, you didn’t know who I was at first. It’s perfectly understandable that you would be afraid.’

  ‘Thank you for understanding, and for waking me.’

  ‘That’s what I’m here for, remember?’

  She managed a smile but she felt awful, awful and guilty, he had stayed out of concern for her and she had recoiled from him as though he was a vile rapist.

  She drank some more water and went to put the glass back on the table but he moved forward and took it from her his hand brushing hers as he did so. She flinched then her face flushed red with embarrassment and guilt. He sat down again but closer to her this time. She said, ‘you knew didn’t you that I would have a nightmare about what happened tonight.'

  He shrugged, ‘you had had a shock and were very shook up, it just seemed pretty obvious that you would dream about it. I wanted to be here just in case.’

  ‘I’m glad you were,’ she gave a rueful smile, ‘although I may not have seemed it.’

  He returned her smile, ‘I understand.’

  Her smile turned into a thoughtful frown, ‘I know you do, you always seem to understand. You seem to…to know me so well, as if we’ve been friends forever.’

  ‘I wish we had.’ She arched her eyebrows in surprise at his words, he went on, ‘but sometimes two people can be acquainted with one another for years and still know next to nothing about each other, about the way they think and feel and sometimes all it takes is a few hours to know what makes a person tick. Or maybe it’s just that I feel this familiarity, this affinity with you because I care about you and what happens to you.’ He leaned towards her leaving less than a foot between their faces. ‘I know this sounds like a cliché, but I feel that there’s a bond between us.’