Explicit Memory

by Scarlett Finn

  ‘Open it,’ Antoine demanded, and one of his henchmen threw Cody out of the way to shove into the shop front.

  Displays were trashed as she was carried through the front shop toward the back business entrance. Flick didn’t want Rushe to be blindsided, but calling out for him might make him react without thinking. So deliberately flailing out, she made as much noise as she could, and kicked out to knock over a shelving unit.

  ‘Arrête!’

  Antoine’s infuriation only made Flick fight harder. She was determined that they would be heard, and whoever stood on the other side of that door would be prepared. The first henchman battered the door, and at first no one approached. Flick thought they may be ignored, and she wondered what contingency Antoine had. The buzzer rang constantly, and she heard commotion from the other side of the door.

  Any sense of accomplishment she felt vanished when another man appeared from the rear of the group carrying a battering ram.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Flick beseeched Antoine, who stood calmly a couple of feet from her. ‘They’ll be terrified.’

  ‘You answer your own question,’ Antoine said, without looking at her.

  Two men, now at the head of the group, swung the ram back and hit forth once, and that was all it took. All of the men backed off, and Flick wasn’t sure what they expected to happen now that they’d desisted in their aggression.

  ‘They’ll never voluntarily let you in,’ she said.

  But a click from the door accompanied Antoine’s smirk, and the door opened from the inside. Flick recognised the woman who came out, reaching toward Antoine.

  ‘Connie, we may always rely on you to fulfil your role.’

  Antoine took Connie’s outstretched hand to kiss it, and Flick identified who the mole had been. The shady clients she’d been bringing through this business were no doubt Antoine’s men, so it was no shock now that they’d been depraved.

  Their group advanced, and hope blossomed in Flick that maybe Rushe wasn’t here at all. The women who were in reception screeched and scarpered, which made a lot of sense because here were six men, along with Antoine and his associate, who were here for an unknown purpose. The only thing that would be immediately obvious by looking at them would be that they weren’t official or altruistic.

  Lilah popped up from behind the reception desk, and Flick tensed while trying to wriggle free of the man who still carried her like a football.

  ‘Silver will kill you! What do you want?’ Lilah shouted, though her fear was apparent through her pale skin.

  ‘Silver will be compensated,’ Antoine said, coming to the front of the group. It was then that Flick saw through the wavering bodies blocking her view that Rushe stood in front of the curtain to the watchman’s hallway.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ Rushe asked, not displaying an ounce of emotion.

  ‘Paying you a visit,’ Antoine said, and Flick heard the amusement in his tone. ‘My fiancée and I like to do that.’

  With a sideways nod, the men parted, giving her an unobstructed view of Rushe, and him a clear view of her. He didn’t flinch, but her throat flooded.

  ‘I didn’t know,’ she whispered.

  ‘I think he can tell that, ma chère, you can’t stand on your own two feet and went to no effort with your apparel.’

  ‘Yeah, ‘cause he gives a fuck if I’m dressed in silk,’ Flick snarled at Antoine, who didn’t acknowledge her.

  ‘Your chambre privée shall be sufficient for our conversation,’ Antoine said to Rushe, who stepped aside and held the curtain. Her love wasn’t going to turn his back on Antoine, and Flick didn’t blame him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The goons closed in around her, keeping Flick away from Rushe, as they all filtered up the hallway and into the watchman’s bedroom. Flick was taken to the furthest corner on the other side of the bed and dropped to the floor. She might have stayed there if it wasn’t for her transporter, who snatched her hair and yanked her up to her feet.

  Flick hissed through the pain and used the wall to support herself as she ascended. When she was up, he grabbed her throat, pinning her back against the wall, and her eyes shut as the rush of alcohol in her system made her abruptly lightheaded.

  ‘Is she high?’ Flick recognised the concern in Rushe’s voice, though he tried to maintain his practised apathy.

  ‘Drunk,’ Antoine sighed out. ‘As she so frequently is.’

  ‘I do what it takes to get through the day,’ Flick said.

  ‘No one speaks to you now,’ Antoine barked out, whipping around to glare at her. ‘Be silent.’

  Rushe was against the back of the couch with a man on either side of him, and two in front facing him, watching his every move. Flick remained in the corner with the fifth man, the sixth stood not too far behind.

  Antoine took his place at the end of the bed with his associate behind him. ‘You shouldn’t have brought me if you didn’t want to deal with me,’ Flick said.

  ‘You will be quiet,’ Antoine said, with a glance at the man holding her. Flick was released and received a backhander that sent her to the floor, after her head landed on the perpendicular wall with a thump.

  Rushe growled so loudly that it cleared the smog enveloping her. The pound of a punch came before a clatter, and then there was a shuffle of movement.

  ‘Non! We do not wish this to turn into a brawl,’ Antoine said.

  Rushe was posed to fight; one man was on the floor while the other three held her love. She fumbled out for the bed and pulled herself to her knees to show Rushe that she was alright. He wouldn’t look at her because he was on guard, but she knew he’d catch her in his periphery.

  ‘Enlighten us then,’ Flick mumbled to Antoine, though she was aware that her words felt slurred. ‘Why are we here?’

  ‘You will be silent,’ Antoine said. ‘You are insignificant, here merely as a tool of manipulation.’

  ‘I’d deduced as much myself,’ Flick spat out.

  ‘Be silent!’ Antoine declared. ‘On your feet, and we will silence you!’

  ‘I will not!’

  ‘Kitten.’

  Flick’s eyes flitted to Rushe, who was intent on Antoine, with his chin tipped down and those thick shadows blanketing his eyes. He spoke through gritted teeth, with inflexible lips, and she knew he was focused. Whatever the business Antoine was here to discuss, Rushe wanted it out in the open.

  Moistening her lips, Flick dragged her legs under her and pushed up to her feet, taking her place quietly in the corner in front of the man who had previously pinned her in place. This wasn’t a time for her to be a distraction for Rushe, and by aggravating the situation she was only enforcing the manipulation they were trying to levy.

  So clasping her hands behind her, she rolled her lips into her mouth, and cast her eyes downward, because she wouldn’t divert Rushe while he worked.

  ‘The woman is uncontrollable. She will not obey me,’ Antoine said, after an incredulous silence. ‘How can you make her—‘

  ‘She is not your woman,’ Rushe said. ‘What’s your business here?’

  ‘Where is he?’ Antoine said, without further delay.

  ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Rushe said, but Flick read beyond the denial.

  ‘You do,’ Antoine said. ‘I want to know where he is.’

  ‘You came all the way here to ask me that? Wasted trip.’

  ‘Why do you protect him?’ Antoine asked. ‘We have his woman. Does he not understand the danger that she is in? What we can do to her?’

  ‘What you’ve already done, for all we know,’ Rushe said. ‘It’s been two weeks since any of us saw Serendipity.’

  So they were talking about Jansen and Serendipity, and someone else must have seen Serendipity two weeks ago, perhaps to confirm that she was still alive. Flick had been ensconced at her parents’ house and had missed so much of the action that she was playing catch up, trying to memorise every detail.

  ‘S
he is alive, but she doesn’t have to stay that way.’

  ‘So kill her,’ Rushe said. ‘I don’t know where Jansen is.’

  ‘He left the hospital late last night, where would he go?’

  ‘What is it he knows? Why do you care where he is? If you’ve got Serendipity so well protected, then it doesn’t matter where Jansen is. If the stories are to be believed, then the guy can barely walk, so he’s no physical threat to your operation.’

  ‘Not all threats are physical,’ Antoine said. ‘Though I understand that a man like yourself would not necessarily be able to appreciate that.’

  Flick inhaled to defend Rushe, but her love’s eyes flashed to her, and she clamped her mouth shut. If he didn’t want her to speak, then she wouldn’t. But Flick didn’t like to hear anyone ridicule him. She dropped her chin, and Rushe’s attention went back to Antoine.

  ‘You have an odd relationship,’ Antoine said. ‘You and young Felicity. She is not easily tamed, and she is impossible to live with.’

  ‘If she’s causing you that much hassle, then feel free to leave her here when you fuck off.’

  Antoine laughed. ‘Yes, that would be very convenient. But being rid of Felicity before our nuptials would put our trials so far to shame. She is difficult, but she serves her purpose well. Are you going to congratulate us?’

  ‘I don’t condone fraud,’ Rushe sneered.

  ‘You are a man of few morals, I have heard of your work. Does Miss Felicity know the extent of your history? The murders you have been involved in? The torture you have perpetrated? Does she know what you did to the woman here?’

  Flick dug her teeth into her lip, torn between wanting to laugh at the very notion of Rushe being able to physically hurt an innocent woman, and being so offended that she wanted to retrieve the knife from her back pocket and gut every man here.

  Lashing out now would serve no purpose, and she knew that while Antoine was driving this scenario it wouldn’t matter how many of his thugs she injured, he wouldn’t bat an eyelid. The men here were all expendable, present only to ensure that Rushe listened to the taunting that Antoine bestowed.

  ‘Fill her head with all the stories you want to,’ Rushe said. ‘You’ve had ample time. You didn’t need to bring her here to do that.’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ Antoine said. ‘We are here to make our position clear, and your position.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You are no longer a part of her life, or a part of our lives. You are of no use to us. If you cannot provide us information, we will find other uses for your skills. But you are not to contact Felicity again.’

  ‘The phone call,’ Rushe said.

  ‘He overheard me talking,’ Flick said, nodding toward Antoine’s associate.

  ‘Do not talk to each other,’ Antoine insisted. ‘Felicity made it clear to you that you have to move on from her, and your whore here needs you. You satisfy her, and I will satisfy Miss Hughes.’

  ‘Will you now?’ Rushe asked.

  If Flick read him right, there was amusement in his tone. Lifting her head, she saw the faintest glimmer of a smile on Rushe’s face, but it was all swagger and it made her think of all the times they played together.

  ‘Yes,’ Antoine said. ‘She is a woman that every man should experience at least once, wouldn’t you agree?’

  For Rushe, the only thing worse than Antoine sampling her would be if Antoine shared her around. ‘You will respect her.’

  ‘She will be my wife,’ Antoine said. ‘I will do with her what I please, as I already do.’

  ‘If that’s all you’re going to do with her, then carry on,’ Rushe said. ‘You’ve done nothing with her, and I’m happy for you to keep doing that.’

  ‘She came to me,’ Antoine said. ‘She understands our arrangement requires some... exertion on her part. We have to make the best of what we have, and Felicity has rather voracious needs. You schooled her well for me; I shall savour each of her exquisite talents.’ Rushe said nothing, but Flick was curious at his lack of reaction. ‘You are not opposed to our intimacy? You are not discouraged?’

  ‘You have no intimacy,’ Rushe said. ‘You came here for information and to rile me, but you’ve achieved neither goal. Are you discouraged?’

  ‘You speak with confidence,’ Antoine said, with growing rage. ‘Felicity will be in my bed tonight, her body on display for my consumption, dedicated to my every indulgence. Do you have any recommendations, anything she is particularly good at?’

  ‘She makes a mean carbonara,’ Rushe said. ‘Avoid the chilli if you can, she never gets it right.’ Flick smiled. ‘But she’ll be disappointed if you don’t finish it, though that’s true of anything she cooks.’

  This time when she took her lips into her mouth, Flick was stifling her laughter. Rushe wasn’t perturbed by the idea of her with Antoine because he knew that she hadn’t been. It didn’t matter how much the Frenchman tried to taunt him, her love would never believe it.

  ‘You are arrogant,’ Antoine sniggered. ‘You think you can belittle me, but the woman you try to claim now belongs to me. I shall do what I want with her. Her body is mine to do with what I will, and she will oblige me. Her breasts, her buttocks, all of her belongs to me. Her mouth and her tongue will do as I command.’

  ‘She’s never been very good at following instructions,’ Rushe said.

  Antoine fumed and started round the bed, barging one man out of the way and then the one that guarded her. He got hold of Flick’s hair and tugged her down to his previous position at the end of the bed.

  Flick tried to free herself, but the Frenchman’s grip was solid. In her periphery she was aware of Rushe being grabbed, held, and pinned by the four men who had surrounded him throughout.

  ‘Cover him,’ Antoine demanded of the two men who had been near her.

  Her guards dashed to a hostile Rushe, and one rounded to clamber on the couch so he could hold her love back as he struggled to shirk off his would-be captors.

  Antoine’s associate approached her from behind to knock her knees out, and on a yelp Flick fell to the floor. The associate took a handful of her hair and yanked her head back against the bulge of his erection. Trying to tussle her way out of his grip made the associate grasp her jaw, and he squeezed until her mouth opened. Before her, Antoine went for his belt and began to unbuckle.

  ‘Regardez!’ Antoine shouted, tugging his shirt tails up to reveal his stomach and the ridge of his arousal.

  Flick wouldn’t do it, he’d try to force her, and he’d do it with Rushe there watching, but she had no intention of delivering any pleasure to this man. Her love roared out in his attempt to fight off the half dozen men restraining him. But Flick had told Rushe that she could take care of herself, and now she had to prove it.

  Fumbling her hands under the tail of her shirt, she stole the knife from her pocket, and flipped it open at the moment Antoine tugged down his underwear.

  The associate began to urge her forward, so she cried out and thrashed with the knife. Flick dragged the blade up the associate’s leg to his thigh in the same motion that she whipped it around and slashed Antoine’s groin.

  Blood sprayed all around her, and the wet heat of it bathed her face, her chest, and her shoulder. So much happened in the same instant. Both men jerked away, bawling in agony. She moved so fast that she didn’t register how she got on her feet, or how she reached Rushe’s side.

  ‘Fuck!’ he hollered, but the men who had held him were all in such shock that none pursued her or Rushe straight away.

  ‘Rushe! Rushe!’ Flick panted out his name with every breath.

  ‘I got ya,’ he said. ‘I got ya.’

  Suddenly, she was hooked under Rushe’s arm and swooped behind his back. In the same manoeuvre, Rushe twisted the knife out of her hand and into his. Doubling over the back of the couch, in her stumbling descent, Flick steadied herself and pushed back up to her feet when she saw Mercier’s associate fall to the floor in front of Rushe, blood
pouring from the thick gouge that ran the width of his throat.

  ‘Rushe,’ she said again, unable to gather her senses.

  He spun and dug the same knife between the ribs of a goon she hadn’t seen coming. Withdrawing the blade, Rushe grabbed her hand and yanked her along, pulling her to the reception, where he snatched her hips to lift her up to sit on the desk.

  ‘Get me a towel. Call Silver! Get the guys from the street and get them out of here!’

  Flick didn’t know who he spoke to, she didn’t even know who else was there. She couldn’t even see through the blood still blurring her vision.

  ‘Holy fuck, what happened?’ Cody screamed.

  ‘Get the guys!’ Rushe hollered back. ‘Get those fuckers out of here, all of them, and get that room cleaned out.’

  ‘Where the fuck do we—‘

  ‘Tawny,’ Flick said, trying to sort through her thoughts. ‘Oh god, Rushe, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No,’ he said, clasping her face and bringing her eyes up to unite with his. ‘I’m proud of you, Kitten. I’m proud of you.’

  If she could stop the quaking that racked her body, she might have smiled or noticed the shine of honour in his eyes. ‘We have to get Tawny,’ Flick said. ‘We have to leave, they’ll kill you!’

  ‘We’re out of here.’

  ‘Go,’ Lilah said from beside them, but the movement and the noise coming from every angle disoriented Flick.

  Rushe picked her up and took her toward the door. ‘Tawny,’ Flick said, slapping a hand on his chest. ‘They’ll—‘

  ‘She’s not here,’ Rushe said. ‘I sent her out last night when Jansen went AWOL. We’ll talk later. Right now, we gotta run.’

  And this time when he took her to the door she didn’t object. Flick curled in as close as she could to him, desperate for the heat he could offer her. The shaking hadn’t stopped, and given what she had just done, she wasn’t sure that it ever would.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rushe remained remarkably composed in the car after he bundled her in and got them moving.