Sweet Seduction Sabotage

by Nicola Claire

  "You did?" he asked softly. Hope and eagerness apparent in his tone.

  I nodded, offering a small smile.

  "Three reasons, not one. That's why I was so fucked in the head. And for some time now, I've been battling them. Trying to deny the obvious, when my world was beginning to fall apart. I wanted to know if it was my fault. I wanted to protect myself from the answer. And I wanted to ensure I was never left a shell of a woman like my mother was when her one true love walked away. And you know what?"

  "What, sweetheart?"

  "It wasn't my fault. There are risks worth taking. And I will never be like my mother, even if the one man I have let right inside my heart walks away."

  "Kels," Drew said, starting to move up onto a shoulder, better to tell me his next words.

  I shushed him with a finger to his lips, stilling his movements and the protest that was undoubtedly on his lips.

  "It's OK, Drew. You showed me this. I didn't even realise I was ready for the answers, but I know now that I was. I had been for some time. Tired of the games, tired of the rigmarole I was putting myself through. Tired of giving my past any hold over my present, denying myself a future in the process. I was tired of it all, because when you entered my life and started sabotaging my dates, I let you. I let you, because I wanted you to. Because it was time to say goodbye to that lifestyle, time to put my past where it needed to be... in the past. And time to let a little colour back in my life.

  "Baby," I whispered. "Thank you. Thank you for finding me, for waiting for me to wake up, and for helping me to say goodbye to my past."

  "Sternchen," he breathed, the sound of that endearment reaching right into my heart.

  "Thank you for the rainbow, Drew," I whispered, pressing my lips to his.

  "You are so welcome," he murmured into my mouth.

  The kiss deepened, the world dimmed to just us. Our heavy breaths, our frantic heartbeats, our heated touch.

  Then as Drew rolled me over onto my back and pressed his hard frame down the length of mine, we were reminded of exactly where we currently lay. The floor suddenly shaking, a trembling sounding out through the walls, as dust started to rain down on us from above.

  And an almighty explosion rattled the District Court building announcing that something terrible had passed. The Armed Offenders Squad storming the building? Or the gun toting hostage takers making a final stand?

  "Fuck," Drew yelled, over the commotion. "Time to move."

  Time to move? Where to? And to what?

  Chapter 20

  And It Was A Mile Wide

  The shaking worsened, making our movements unsteady and our balance all shot. Drew grasped my hand and hauled me to my feet, but the coats beneath my shoes made me slip and slide, pulling Drew back down to the ground again, hard. Or it could have been the trembling through the tiles that did it. And the dust filling the small space of the cloakroom, making everything shrouded in an off-white and clogging up our lungs.

  We coughed and spluttered, trying to cover our mouths with our arms while also trying to half-crawl, half-walk toward the door back into the foyer. I couldn't imagine the foyer would be any better, but the entrance atrium to the District Court building at least led outside.

  And outside was definitely where Drew wanted us to be.

  We made it to the door, bits of chipped tile digging into my knees and shins. I knew my work trousers were ruined. The second pair to be ripped to shreds in less than a week. I could feel torn fabric fluttering against my skin, some of it sticking there where blood had pooled. Minor injuries, but when adrenaline floods your system everything becomes hyper-aware.

  Drew rattled the door handle, not even trying to cover the noise now. The building had settled, but whatever or whoever had caused the explosion, wasn't done with us yet. Aftershocks or smaller detonations were going off at irregular intervals. Drew’s efforts would be easily overlooked.

  The door shook in its frame, the handle not turning but rattling with Drew's attempts to open it. When that didn't work he pushed me back slightly and before I could stop him he threw his shoulder against the solid wood of the door. It didn't budge, but Drew wasn't done. Three more times he threw his body against that immovable object. Three more times he failed to shift it at all.

  When he started kicking the living daylights out of the thing, and the explosions and mini detonations seemed to have quietened down enough to make the noise Drew was making sound too loud, I finally unglued my numb limbs and reached out to grab his arm.

  "Drew," I hissed. "Cut it out!"

  "We've got to get out of here," he said harshly, desperation evident in his tone.

  "Drew, baby," I tried. "The explosions have stopped."

  "And could start again at any time." Another kick. Another loud crack that reverberated around our small cloakroom.

  "Drew," I hissed. "We'll be heard!"

  Somehow that reached him through his panic. Breathing heavily he tilted his head to the side and listened, eyes closed. The building continued to creak, an ominous sound as though it was just holding on to its structural integrity and at any moment could collapse to the ground.

  I understood Drew's desperation. I felt it as well.

  "We have to get out of here," he said, eyes now open and pleading with me to agree.

  I held his gaze, unable to think clearly. Visions of damaged Christchurch buildings being brought to the ground in controlled collapses filling my mind. After the Earthquakes down there, that's all you saw on the news for months. Even years later, they were still bringing the odd one down. I knew, from those TV pictures, exactly what a collapsing building looked like. And we were on the ground floor of one that sounded like it had had enough.

  And Dom was not.

  "What about Dom?" I asked finally.

  "What about him?" Drew surprised me by shooting back.

  "What do you mean, what about him? He's in this building somewhere. Maybe upstairs being held hostage and can't get out. He's getting married this weekend. Gen's waiting for him right now."

  My voice had risen on each word, until I was practically screeching them out in a strange cross between hysterics and a whisper so as not to be heard.

  Drew took a step towards me, his hands coming up to grasp my upper arms.

  "Kelly. We can't help him."

  No. Not words I wanted to hear. I started shaking my head.

  "Think about it," Drew insisted. "We're on the ground floor. If we crawl out through the air vent, which, by the way, will be a fucking miracle if they're still intact, we'll come out on the ground floor. The exit feet away. Why the fuck would we risk ourselves to go upstairs, potentially on structurally unsound stairways, because the lifts are absolutely out, to see if we can find him, when we don't even know where he is or if he is being held at all? For all we know he took a coffee break and was out of the building when this all went down, and is waiting in Sweet Seduction now for us to show up."

  I stared at him, looked deep into his eyes. I held his gaze for so long, it was Drew who blinked first and looked away.

  "That was a complete and utter lie, wasn't it?" I asked, my voice level and calm, when my heart was anything but.

  "The air vent and structural damage weren't," Drew muttered, sounding contrite.

  "He's still in the building, isn't he?"

  Drew sighed, pulled back and ran a hand frustratingly through his hair. He gripped some of it and held on tight.

  "Damn you, Kelly. I'm trying to keep you alive."

  "He was in court, wasn't he?" I pushed.

  Drew slowly closed his eyes and then nodded his head, his chest rising and falling too swiftly.

  "Sweetheart," he started, eyes again open, sadness and pain staring back at me from what should have been a beautiful grey, but just reminded me of storm clouds on a winter's day.

  "They're having a baby," I said, the ache in my chest getting bigger.

  "I know."

  "We have to get him out."

 
; "It's not our job."

  "I can't live with myself, I can't face Genevieve, if I don't try."

  "And I can't let you risk your life on such short odds." It sounded final. Drew was using his lawyer voice.

  "So, you can walk away from your best friend, leave him to die?"

  "He might still get out of this."

  "Tell yourself that, Drew. The building hasn't stopped shaking since that last explosion. Do you really think he'll be able to get out?"

  "AOS are probably mounting their rescue now."

  "You don't know that," I pointed out.

  "We don't know otherwise. And we could just get in their way."

  I stared at him, trying to understand how he could turn his back on someone he saw almost every day of his life. Someone he shared a business with, a history with, a deep, friendship with. How could he do this?

  I shook my head again, defeat weighing me down.

  "How can you walk away from him?" I just didn't understand.

  Silence, then, "He's not you."

  My eyes came back up to search his face to better comprehend those words.

  "I can't lose you, I won't survive," he whispered, voice gruff. "Not now, not after everything you've told me, not after opening your heart and letting me in. I won't do it. I won't let you go. I fought so hard for you, Kelly. Fuck, I battled four other guys. I've got you now, and I will not let you die. I'm getting you out of this fucking hell hole and I'm keeping you safe, and I won't entertain anything else."

  I couldn't breathe, my chest was too tight. One part of me aching for Genevieve, the other soaring from Drew's sweet words.

  "Kelly," he murmured, reaching out and wrapping his arms around my frame. He hauled me against his chest and held me tight. "Dominic would do the same thing if the roles were reversed. You know this."

  Yes, I did. If he was locked in here with his Genevieve and they had a chance to escape, he wouldn't even look back. Gen would, but not Dominic. Dominic would haul her over his shoulder and carry her out as tears streamed down my best friend's face.

  And he'd be right. I wouldn't hold it against him. I'd applaud his strength of character, I'd pray he got Gen home safe.

  But oh, fuck it! It hurt, tears actually stinging my eyes. I blinked through the gritty sensation, and sniffed deeply to ensure I didn't start blubbering like my Gen.

  "OK," I finally said against Drew's chest. "I understand."

  I felt his entire frame relax, his shoulders releasing their tension, his arms pulling me closer still, but not in a hard way. Tender, gentle, just like Drew.

  "OK," he repeated, letting a long breath of air out. "Let's take a look at that air vent. It'll take too much effort and noise to break through this fucking door."

  "They took security of the public's coats very seriously here," I commented.

  "Yeah, so seriously we snuck in behind the clerk's back."

  I couldn't be upset about that. My guess was the clerk was being held hostage right now. Or dead. Either option something we had so far avoided because we'd been locked in this room.

  I glanced around the dust covered coats piled on the floor, the chipped ceiling and the cracks in the tiled walls. It had been our sanctuary and part of me wasn't sure that leaving it was a good idea. But even if the AOS had stormed the building, they sure as hell hadn't made it to the ground floor. And if they hadn't even tried to mount a rescue mission yet, then how long did we have before the lunatics with explosives upstairs brought the building down around our ears?

  We couldn't stay here, but God knows what awaited us out there.

  Drew was struggling with the air conditioning duct cover, using a pen to try to twist the screws that held it in place. I could see the scrapes as he'd lose his grip, tearing skin off the top of his knuckles. Blood welled where the cuts formed, but he didn't stop working to undo each screw.

  The building continued its ominous creaking, occasionally dust would flutter down from the ceiling to the floor. A bang sounded out over our heads, but it was distant. I wondered if the hostages were fighting back. I wondered if they were still alive.

  Finally after much swearing under his breath the cover came off. Drew's hands looked a complete mess. I reached out and lifted one up for a closer inspection, desperately wanting to offer comfort, but not knowing how.

  "We've got to go, sternchen," he said softly. But a tightness sounded out in each word. I wasn't sure if it was from a sense of urgency or from the fact his fairly minor injuries caused me distress. "I'll be fine," he added.

  I nodded. He was a guy, they could handle a few skinned knuckles without falling apart.

  We peered inside the tunnel, which was several feet off the floor. It was coated in dust, but not the kind that had been settling on us in the cloakroom. This dust just looked age old, I was guessing no one cleaned the air conditioning ducts around here.

  "I'll help you up," Drew advised. "Give me your leg."

  I did not want to go first. Something about the darkness unsettled me. Ridiculous, given the gravity of the situation, but deep seated in any way. I started shaking my head and taking a step back.

  "Age before beauty," I declared.

  Drew tipped his head to the side and smiled. It was a knowing smile, but behind it was concern.

  "Can you get in once I have?" he asked, not second guessing my reasons for baulking at going first. I nodded. "OK, if you're sure."

  "I am."

  I watched as he pulled his jacket off, adding it to the pile of coats on the floor. He checked his pockets, probably to make sure he hadn't left his wallet or phone in the jacket itself, and then hauled himself up by his arms into the small opening on the wall. His back muscles stretched and undulated, his butt looked spectacular as he disappeared inside. Maybe going second wasn't such a wuss out, I could blame it on his gorgeous arse.

  It took over a minute for me to hoist myself up inside. Drew couldn't turn to help me, the tunnel was too tight to do anything other than crawl forward. I was sweating and exhausted, my arms shaking, my lip firmly clenched between my teeth with the concentration and effort required. Finally I dragged my unfit arse into the tunnel, panting and wheezing through the dust we'd both dislodged.

  Drew didn't move until I'd gotten myself under control. He also, wisely, didn't pass judgement. Everyone knows chicks don't have a man's upper body strength. I was guessing that's why he kept mum. Or maybe he was thinking of the dangers that lay ahead. I know they weren't far from my mind.

  We moved forward slowly, not only because we had to pull ourselves with our forearms along the tunnel, as our legs and feet couldn't really find purchase at the restricted angles we had to work with. But also because we were trying not to make any noise and stopping frequently to listen to the building's sounds. The creaks and any hint that the gun wielding terrorists weren't near.

  It got darker the further in we went, but Drew must have thought ahead, because he held his cellphone in a hand or in his mouth, I'm unsure, and he had an emergency light on the screen guiding his path. I couldn't see past him, but the illumination his phone provided allowed for some ambient light around his body and back towards where I crawled.

  I was even able to make out the time on my watch with only a little eye strain. I'd arrived at the District Court at around eleven this morning. Drew and I had our illicit red moment not long after that. I was guessing, the siege began at just after midday. Now, my watch said it was six at night.

  Still daylight out, but in our tunnel, in the possibly structurally unsound walls of the building, it was pitch black. Well, it would have been without Drew's cellphone to light the way.

  Minutes ticked by. I counted them out in my head. Occasionally pacing myself with the second hand on my watch. Sweat dribbled down my forehead and burned when it reached my eyes. Sometimes it would drip onto the air duct's floor. I noticed streaks where Drew had pulled himself through the dust and his own sweat. That didn't bother me, but it was still one of the most disgusting things I'd
ever had to do; crawl through a filthy tunnel, the air stale and artificial, as well as stagnant as the air con had been switched off at some stage. Probably as a direct result of one of those explosions we'd heard and felt.

  Finally Drew stopped. I couldn't tell why. I listened intently, but no external sounds made me think we'd been discovered or Drew had made out an enemy nearby. My body hurt. My arms and elbows felt both raw and bruised to hell. My hip bones were tender, and my chest ached with the fervent need to suck in a fresh breath of air. I blinked the sting of sweat out of my eyes, not daring to rub them because dust coated my hands and fingers, and I could just imagine what that would feel like. I breathed through my nose, biting back the urge to do so deeply, trying my best to remain calm, to not contemplate the reason why we were here and the fact that the space was so small.

  I don't get claustrophobic, thankfully, but I challenge anyone not to be affected by paranoia and panic when crawling through an air conditioning duct in an effort to save your life with the threat of a building collapse hanging over your head.

  "I've found another air vent cover," Drew whispered finally. Clearly waiting until he was sure the other side of the cover was safe.

  "Is it to the foyer?" I asked.

  "No, another room. Do you want to try it out?"

  The desperation to stretch my limbs and suck in something of a fresh breath of air was so great I almost insisted he open it. But if he had trouble getting the last cover off, and the screws were on the other side from where we currently were, then how easy would this one be? It could be impossible. It could take half an hour. It could be a waste of time. Because if the terrorists - I'd taken to calling them that in my head, it was better than gun toting bad guys - had locked our cloakroom with instructions from 'the boss' then they'd have locked this one too.

  There was just no way of knowing if it was worth the while, and the risk of being detected as we attempted to remove the cover and checked the room out, was too great for potentially little gain. When we came to a cover that showed the foyer or an external hall, then we'd take the risk. Not before.