by Unknown
I changed back into Blake’s clothes while the cook set fresh fruit and yogurt sweetened with honey on the dining room table for us. It was more of a snack than a meal, but I found the cool fruit to be refreshing. The cook served us steaming hot tea as well and when I made a face at the prospect of drinking something so hot, Blake chuckled.
“It’s considered rude to drink less than three cups, and, if the tea isn’t hot, it’s no good.” He downed his in one gulp, apparently immune to the tea’s scalding hot temperature.
I took a polite sip, wincing as a bitter mint flavor hit my taste buds.
Blake raised his cup to me. “The desert nomads here have a saying: The first cup is to be harsh as death, the second sweet as life and the third light as love, but all three must be hotter than hell.”
I took another sip, trying to ignore the bitterness this time.“How do you know this?”
He smiled. “I did some research before I came here.”
The cook came out and filled his cup a second time and then added a heaping spoonful of sugar to it. I tried to hurry up and finish mine so he could pour my second cup at the same time, but the tea was just too hot.
The cook, an older man with a graying mustache, gave me a disapproving look and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Is he going to poison my food now?” I asked as I finally, hallelujah, finished the last of my tea. Its acrid flavor permeated my tongue, worse than burnt coffee. Ugh. Apparently, I wasn’t a huge fan of mint tea. At least not the way they brewed it in Morocco.
“I’m sure he’s used to foreigners.” Blake snapped his fingers and the cook reappeared to fill my cup again. He put markedly less sugar in it, probably to punish me for being so slow.
This time when I sipped, I found the tea hot as ever, but the flavor was that of sweet mint. I was sweating now and alternated sips of the tea with bites of cool fruit, all while Blake watched me with open amusement.
The third cup of tea didn’t taste any different from the second. If it was as light as love, I couldn’t tell. “This is a really hot tradition,” I said as I finished the last of my tea. I fanned myself.“Am I allowed to have some ice water or would that be rude?”
“I’m sure I can arrange something.” Blake stepped into the kitchen and returned with a pitcher full of water, ice and fresh lemon. He poured me a big glass, which I drank in one gulp.
“Why do you think the tea has to be so hot?”
Blake shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they figure if they make themselves hot enough, the desert will feel cool.”
The front door opened and shut just as I poured my third glass of ice water. The guys were back. I’d almost forgotten they were gone, I’d been too busy learning my part in Blake’s trick and sweating my ass off drinking tea.
Mark, the bald guy, dropped several plastic bags by my chair. “Your wardrobe, mademoiselle.” He bent over in a shallow bow.
“Thanks, Mark.” I peeked inside the bags and caught sight of t-shirts and underwear. The idea of the burly man buying my unmentionables made me blush. I wished I could’ve gone shopping on my own, but I agreed with Blake that it was better for me to stay out of sight. Goodness knew what kind of surveillance Frankie had on the Riad. He’d certainly been able to track me to the general area despite Blake’s jammers. Hopefully, he was now off chasing the mail thinking it was me.
I picked up all the bags. “I’m going to take these back to my room. I’d like a shower and to put on some clean clothes.” I paused, giving Blake a questioning look. “That is, unless you wanted to practice some more?”
Blake waved me off. “No we’re done for the day, but just so you know, we’re leaving tonight for the Sahara. Be packed and ready to go by seven.”
My eyes widened at the idea that I would soon be in the Sahara desert. My kidnapping had not been a dull experience so far.
“Sure thing.” I grabbed the pitcher of water off the table on my way out, which made Blake laugh.
As I started up the stairs that led to my suite, the men started talking in low voices, but not low enough to keep the words operation and terrorist from my ears. They were so unexpected, so discordant compared to everything else the men had discussed so far that I stopped short on the stairs, thinking furiously. What did they mean terrorist? Was I part of something even more dangerous than Frankie?
I had to know, so I dropped my bags on the steps, knowing the rustling of the plastic would make too much noise. Hands free, I crept back toward the dining room on tiptoe. Because the stairs could be seen from the dining room if anyone decided to look, I quickly flitted into the living room and hunkered down against the wall that separated the rooms. My heart pounding, I listened to their conversation. Now was my chance to learn more about Blake and his mysterious ‘job’ that he could never talk about.
“You shouldn’t have brought a civvie into this,” said one of the guys. I didn’t know their voices well enough to tell them apart yet.
“Sorry, guys, but none of you have what it takes to be part of the trick,” said Blake. “Besides, she’s Ferrid’s type. We’ll have his attention.”
“We have tits-and-ass, too, Blake. Trained tits-and-ass that can shoot and hold their own in a fight. Not some chick you picked up at a circus,” came another voice, this one seething with anger.
“You think I didn’t go to command and ask?” Blake’s tone was sharp. “They couldn’t get me anyone on such short notice. Ruby’s perfect. I picked her for her skills. She’s good at what she does and she’s smart enough to handle the mission.”
“Does she even know the mission? Have you told her?”
“No. She knows nothing and we need to keep it that way.” Blake’s voice was terse.
“Well, at least our op sec is intact,” someone mumbled.
“Yeah, but what about Ruby’s op sec? You think of what’ll happen to her once Ferrid’s got her in his sights? You think he’ll let her go home safe and sound? You said it yourself, she’s his type and he’s obsessive.”
That gave me pause. I was someone’s type? What did they mean by obsessive? Like stalker obsessive? Oh jeez, that was the last thing I needed.
The guy speaking continued, “How many times have we seen that? He’ll come looking for her and no won’t stop him. We’ll be long gone, on to the next mission.”
“Christ. It’s going to be Mara all over,” groaned another guy.
My ears perked up at the mention of a woman. So far, everything had been the testosterone and Ruby show.
“Say that name again and see what happens,” Blake said, deadly quiet.
“Tell us you’re not sleeping with her, too” challenged the same guy who’d mentioned Mara.
There was a silence where no one spoke, where Blake didn’t answer the question, where I wondered who the hell Mara was and why they’d said ‘too.’ Was Mara the other woman or...was I?
Someone heaved a sigh.“We should scrap the mission. This is messed up. Blake, what were you thinking?”
“He was using his teeny winkie brain, that’s the problem.”
“Command has approved Ruby. I cross my i’s and dot my t’s.” Blake sounded defensive.
“I bet they don’t know why you picked Ruby, though.”
“She has all the skills we need. You don’t know anything beyond that, and I would be careful about any further accusations.” Blake’s voice was hard enough to cut glass. “And Ferrid will never touch her.”
“What’s to stop him when we scatter to the wind?”
“Because if he does, I’ll take him out.”
They argued back and forth like that for a while. I listened with growing horror, a hand clapped over my mouth to keep my jaw from falling to the floor. Once again, I felt used. He’d targeted me from the get go. Blake had been plotting this all along and I bet the sex was just a nice side bonus for him.
“Oh my, God,” I whispered into my hand.
Nothing was real. Nothing. I thought he’d liked me, I had liked him b
ack. I’d slept with him every time he asked, thinking it might mean something, but it was all just a fucking game to Blake. My life had become a lie twisted into betrayal.
Chapter Thirteen
I made my way back to my room without anyone spotting me, although I about had a heart attack when I heard someone’s chair scrape the floor as if they were getting ready to stand up. Once inside my suite, the door shut firmly behind me, I dumped all my new clothes out on the bed, looking for something to wear. My hands shook as I went through everything. I was still reeling from what I’d heard downstairs, so much so that I couldn’t think of anything to do but get dressed.
The underwear was nothing fancy, but a brand I knew, which meant it would fit. I’d been very specific about my measurements. There’s nothing worse than putting large breasts in a poorly fitting bra.
The t-shirts were basic v-necks in solid colors. Mark had bought four. In addition to that, there were some soft yoga pants and a few caftan outfits similar to the one Blake had given to me. There was a pair of sunglasses, too along with a wide brimmed sun hat. They’d also thoughtfully picked up some toiletries for me; toothbrush, toothpaste, basic make-up and sunscreen.
A lot of it was nothing I would’ve bought, but it would serve me well enough while I was in Morocco living a life of international intrigue. At least the caftans were gorgeous. I would definitely try to take those home with me.
I took a quick shower and put on one of the shirts and yoga pants, my mind racing furiously the whole time. I’d made a decision in the shower; I would leave. To hell with Frankie. I couldn’t stay here and let Blake draw me into whatever game he was playing. Criminals were one thing, but terrorists were a hard line I would not cross. I had to get out.
When I got someplace safe, I would do what every girl on the run does in the movies; change my hair and my name. That should buy me some time and Frankie couldn’t chase me forever. Surely mobsters had more important things on their to-do lists than one measly seamstress with bad taste in men? I’d lay low for a while and then find my way back home. Thanks to Frankie, I had enough cash to live on the lam for a while. Easy peasy.
Moving fast, I bundled up the rest of the clothes back into the bags since no one had thought to buy a suitcase for me. Then, I quietly went downstairs planning to walk out the front door and out of Blake’s life and his ‘mission.’
Unfortunately, the guys were all in the process of walking out of the dining room, which meant my appearance did not go unnoticed. They greeted me with a chorus of, “Heya Ruby.” There was no way I could walk out now. They all knew I wasn’t supposed to leave.
I gave them a weak wave. “Hi guys.”
“You all packed for tonight?” asked Steve joining me in the foyer and watching as I made a show of setting my bags down by the entry table there.
“Yep,” I said brightly, hoping no one noticed how flustered I was. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go back and check to make sure I didn’t forget anything.” Without waiting for a response, I then fled back to my suite and was contemplating climbing out of the window, when Blake burst into my room.
He held his phone out and it rang in his hand. “You’ve got a call.”
I took the phone. There was only one person who would be calling for me: Frankie. “Hello?” What did he want now?
“Ruby, is that you? It’s me, Lilli,” came the rich, throaty voice of my best friend in the world.
I gave a little squeal of excitement at the sound of her voice. Finally, some good news. “Lilli! How are you? How did you get this number?” I hadn’t expected to talk to her anytime soon and was delighted to hear from her.
“Because she’s with me,” answered Frankie, his loud Boston accent blaring in my ear. “Lilli’s on a little trip to Morocco.”
“Um, what?” I looked at Blake, suddenly frantic with worry. “Why is she with you?”
“Don’t worry, she’s in the lap of luxury. On a little business trip, but, if I don’t get what I want, things will change.” His tone darkened with warning. “You don’t call, you don’t text, so I thought you might need some motivation.”
“I’m doing everything you asked,” I said. “Let her go. She’s not part of this.”
“Oh yes she is because she’s part of your life. Anything precious to you, Ruby, I’ll destroy.”
I heard a scream in the background followed by the sound of retching. I clutched the phone with both hands. “What is it? What did you do?”
He laughed, a harsh sound. “Lilli has a stomach ache. A touch of what we call the sucker punch virus.”
Lilli’s voice came through the phone, a faint, “Fuck you.” Then there was more retching.
Anger surged through me. “Be careful, Frankie.”
He laughed at me. “Of what?”
“Leaving me nothing to lose. I’ll make sure Blake is there, you make sure I have no reason to kill you.”
Frankie scoffed. “You’re just a second rate seamstress, sweetheart. You’ve got spunk, I’ll give you that, but don’t overestimate yourself. If anyone is going to make death threats, it’ll be me. Stay in touch, all right?”
The line went dead as he hung up on me. I raised my hand ready to throw the phone across the room, but Blake smoothly intercepted it. “Easy there, Ruby.”
“I want a gun,” I said. “I’m going to shoot that motherfucker even if it means I live the rest of my life in prison.” The mental image of shoving a gun barrel up Frankie’s ass and pulling the trigger was especially satisfying. I might be a seamstress, but I had one hell of an imagination. Given enough weaponry, I had no doubt I could bring the pain.
“What did he say?” Blake guided me to my bed so I could sit down. “Tell me what’s going on before you go off on a shooting spree.”
I sank into the mattress, grateful for its support.“He’s holding Lilli hostage until I deliver you.” I closed my eyes. I couldn’t run, not now. Thanks to Frankie, I had to stay and see things through with Blake, otherwise Lilli might die. So much for easy peasy.
“We’ll get her out of this, Ruby.” He tried to wrap a comforting arm around me, but I jerked away.
“So you say,” I said sourly.
His arm dropped to his side and he frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
Sniffing back tears, I shook my head. “Nothing.” I looked up at the ceiling, rapidly blinking my eyes to dissipate the tears.
“I know you’re upset and scared, but I got this. I’m not going to let you or Lilli down.”
I just nodded, too upset to talk.
Someone shouted for Blake. He edged toward the door, but then stepped back, unwilling to leave me. “I’ve got to talk to the guys. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, waving him off. “Just go.” It hurt to look at him right now, to realize he’d meant everything to me, but I’d never meant anything to him. He would tell me any lie just to keep me on the hook. I was just a tool, a means to an end that he occasionally fucked.
Stupid me to believe there was anything serious between us. You should know better, Ruby, I thought. No man has ever wanted you for more than a quick roll in the hay. You’re a novelty, the curvy girl with enormous tits. That’s all.
Blake hesitated for a moment longer, looking like he wanted to say something. Eventually he just sighed and left, gently shutting the door behind him. I held it together just long enough for the door to latch shut before collapsing into the bed, sobbing into a pillow.
I was afraid. I was hurt. I was broken.
Chapter Fourteen
We left Casablanca at dusk, flying in a tiny six-seater and landing on a strip of dirt in the middle-of-nowhere. From there, we piled into a Land Rover and drove into the desert. It was so dark, I had the sense we were driving off the end of the world. There seemed to be nothing around us. The only thing I could see were stars, millions of them, tossed up in the sky like so much glitter.
Everyone stayed silent, speaking only when necessary, whic
h suited me just fine. I was out of my mind with worry about Lilli and still crushed by Blake’s betrayal. Part of me couldn’t wait to turn him over to Frankie. The remaining part still held out for a sappy, romantic happily-ever-after ending to our love affair. Clearly, I’d been at least partially brainwashed by fairy tales as a child.
After what seemed like forever, the Rover lurched up a dune, and, at its crest, I saw a city of lights twinkling in the desert like a fallen star.
I gasped and finally broke my self-imposed silence, asking, “Is that where we’re going?”
Blake, up in the front passenger seat, nodded.
As we drove closer, I frowned at what I saw. “It’s all tents. I thought it was a city?”
Blake glanced back at me. “It’s only a city for a few days. The Sahara Magic Competition is always in the middle of the desert.”
“Have you been here before?”
He shook his head. “No. This is our first time, but I’ve heard about it. This is where the big money comes to find magicians.”
“What? Are you serious?” I leaned forward and looked at him, confused.
Blake nodded. “The competition is like a job interview. The better you perform, the more job offers you get from the world’s most elite venues.”
Steve cleared his throat and joined in our conversation. “This is where people like David Copperfield hire their staff magicians who help develop new tricks.”
“Are you kidding? This is a job fair for magicians in the Sahara?” I laughed because it was funny. Then I frowned, guilty that I’d found humor in anything given Lilli’s circumstances. Some friend I was.
“That’s one way to describe it,” said Steve.
Blake twisted in his seat and made eye contact with me.“They have these shows all over the world, not just for magicians but circus acts and other performers, too.”
I peered out the window, entranced at what I saw. If I hadn’t just drank a bottle of water, I would have thought it was all a mirage. The city had been formed in concentric rings of tents. They were small on the outskirts and then became bigger and bigger the closer they came to the center. Smack dab in the middle sat a huge Big Top tent. Lights had been strung up, running over and between the tents, resulting in a glimmering outline of the whole thing. I caught a glimpse of a row of vendor stalls and even a Ferris wheel, although I doubted there was much to see from the top beyond sand and more sand, or at night, a dark void of nothingness.
