by Michelle Fox
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 back. 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, which 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.
We drove around the outer limits while Blake looked from a piece of paper in his hand to the sign posts we occasionally passed. He motioned for the driver to continue, talking to him in what I guessed was Arabic. We ended up going almost all the way around the tent city before stopping.
“Are we here?” I eyed the tent we’d parked in front of, dubious. A bland beige color, it sagged a bit and leaned to the left.
“It looks better on the inside.” Blake took my hand as I stepped out of the car and led me into the tent.
My eyes widened as I crossed the threshold. The city itself was a jewel in the desert and the interior of the tent was a palace. A crystal chandelier hunger from the peak of the tent while the floor underfoot was covered with oriental rugs. A small, elderly man wearing a red Fez hat, scurried forward, bowing repeatedly as he went.
Rheumatic brown eyes swept over us, taking us in as he said something I couldn’t understand. Judging from his tone and body language, it was some kind of welcome.
Blake answered him in the same language, which I decided must be French as I caught the word ‘beaucoup,’ which I knew meant a lot. As he spoke, the rest of the men filed into the tent, bringing all the luggage with them. They dropped their bags to the floor and then stood silently, awaiting further instructions with grim expressions. The mood had definitely turned dark since we left Casablanca. Based on the conversation I’d overheard earlier, I doubted they were too happy with Blake or me and were now stuck on a mission under less than ideal circumstances. I had similar feelings.
Blake swept his hand toward the old man and then back to the group. “Everyone, this is Nassim. He’s our host while we’re here. If you’re hungry, he will feed you. If you need something, he will find it.”
We all waved and said ‘hello.’ Nassim smiled in return, pressing his hands together and bowing his head.
Blake clapped his hands together. “All right, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be busy. We start at seven a.m. sharp.” Blake gestured to Nassim. “You guys follow him to your quarters. Ruby and I will find our own way.”
Mark handed me my duffel bag. They’d loaned me one when they realized I had no luggage. Steve gave Blake his bag and they all trudged off without a word.
I stretched and covered a yawn with one hand. It felt more like three am as opposed to just midnight. Time didn’t seem to move the same in the Sahara. “I’m beat. Where are we sleeping?”
Blake hoisted his bag over his shoulder. “We’re bunking back here. Follow me.”
He led me to the side wall of the tent, which I realized was not a wall, but another entrance. Pulling back the flap, he motioned for me to precede him. “There are two rooms, but we can share and no one would ever know.”
“Hmm,” I murmured as I stepped past him. After the conversation I’d overheard, I wasn’t going to be so easy to get into bed. On the flip side, I wasn’t ready to burn any bridges either. I needed Blake, which meant I had to play along. I could only hope we would be too busy with this mission thing for any hanky-panky.
The room on the other side of the tent flap was fit for Scheherazade. I felt like I’d stepped into another world, one where the modern was replaced by the magical. “Wow, this is amazing,” I breathed as I spun in a slow circle to take it all in. A bed covered with jewel tone silks sat in the middle of the room. More carpets covered the ground and metal lanterns hung from the ceiling casting a soft, magical glow. “What has happened to my life?” I asked.
Blake tossed his duffle bag onto the bed and unzipped
it.“It’s like living in a dream, isn’t it?”
I sat on the bed, pleased to find it soft. “It looks like a fairy tale, but it’s not.”
“No, it’s not,” Blake agreed as he rummaged through his clothes.
“Are you sure we’ll be back in time to save Lilli?” I asked.
He sat next to me on the bed, a fresh dress shirt in his hands. “Yes. We perform tomorrow afternoon and we’ll be back at the airport by midnight.”
“That’s a tight schedule.” Worry fluttered in my stomach. There was so much to do and so little time.
Blake nodded. “One that doesn’t allow for a lot of sleep, but we’ll make it. I’ve had worse deadlines.” He kissed the top of my head.
Nassim’s voice called out, interrupting our conversation, “Monsieur?”
Blake said something again in French and Nassim stepped into our room with a little bow. They had a quick exchange, where Blake looked increasingly unhappy, and then Nassim gave another little bow and left.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“Ferrid Abdul is here to see us.” He quickly yanked off the t-shirt he’d been wearing and pulled on a dress shirt, the starched white contrasting with his tan skin.
“Who is Ferrid Abdul?” The name had come up at the Riad and from Blake’s reaction just now, I knew this was a big deal. As usual, though, I didn’t know why.
“The man I came to meet.” He fiddled with his clothes, making sure his shirt was tucked in tight and buttoning his collar. “Nassim’s making tea for us.”
“Can I come?”
“Yes. I need you there, actually. But wear one of the caftans. Ferrid is Muslim and your shirt is inappropriate.”
I nodded and quickly went through my bag until I located a sky blue caftan set. Blake left me to change and when I joined him, he was shaking hands with a man I didn’t recognize. He wore a long white robe, similar in appearance to a caftan with gold embroidery around the neckline and matching white pants. His feet were bare, but clean. A quick glance behind him showed a pair of sandals set neatly by the tent entrance.
