Watching Her

by Harlem Dae

  Christmas.

  It was just around the corner. Easy to forget about it when drenched in the heat of Florida and the Caribbean. But here, the festive season screamed its presence with a dazzling array of fairy lights, trees bursting with baubles, and illuminated candles that balanced atop the ornate lampposts.

  Where would I be this Christmas Day? I’d planned on being in the US, working my way west in search of treasures for Blooms. I’d thought New Orleans would be fun, or perhaps Dallas, maybe a spa in Palm Springs.

  But now…

  The car slowed behind a vast building made of sandy-coloured stonework—the kind that were much bigger than bricks, more like slabs stuck together. Large baroque iron gates swung open, and a man in the same outfit as the one who had come onboard the plane waved us through.

  The driver halted the car beneath a sheltered area supported by huge decorative columns. Four giant steps led to a shiny black doorway.

  Within moments I was being ushered through that doorway. I should be scared, I knew that, going to see this bossman who’d sent Kolya to get me. A person who knew of my Father’s dodgy dealings. But I wasn’t. I was starting to feel rather indignant. Being shunted pillar to post and prizing information from people was getting old.

  Maybe I’d have a few questions of my own to ask. Do a bit of digging and get a few chapters ahead in the murder mystery book-slash-movie my life had become.

  A lavish hallway with elaborate chandeliers and a decorated Christmas tree at least four times my height welcomed us. The floor was shiny marble. High windowsills held flickering candles, and a fire roared to my right. Heat wrapped around me, and I tugged the hat off, balling the ear flaps in my fist.

  “This way.” Kolya placed his hand in the small of my back and urged me to the left. He’d clearly been here before and navigated down a series of carpeted corridors then stopped at a door at the very end.

  “Remember our deal,” he said.

  “What deal?” I shrugged. I did remember, I just couldn’t help playing with him. I didn’t have much fun going on in my life right now. I’d take what fun I could.

  “Do not let him know…”

  “Know what?”

  “That we fucked,” he whispered.

  “No, of course not. I’m not a kiss-and-tell girl, you know.”

  The right side of his mouth twitched, as though he was trying to hold in a smile.

  The door was opened from the inside. I couldn’t see who held the handle.

  “Get in here, Kolya, and you, the woman.” Another sharp, heavily accented voice.

  I stepped in, a hair’s-breadth behind Kolya.

  Sitting at a ridiculously wide and highly polished desk was a man in a white shirt, no tie, the top two buttons undone. He appeared to be about Father’s age but it was hard to tell in the shadowy light. His bald head caught the glow of candles behind him, and a scar over his right cheek had disfigured his mouth. I wasn’t sure whether he was grimacing or if it was his usual look.

  “Ah,” he said, steepling his hands and knotting his fingers. “So this is the precious cargo.”

  Did he just refer to me as cargo?

  I folded my arms, not easy in the oversized coat, and tipped my chin. Being compared to a tea crate or a luggage set had offended me.

  “She has come quietly,” Kolya said.

  “Clever girl.” He stood, revealing a long, lean, six-foot frame, and walked around the desk.

  The click-click of his shoes on the hard floor chipped away at the bravado I was attempting to muster.

  I had no idea who I was dealing with. Sutton, Kolya, Father, I had some measure of them, but this man? I didn’t even know his name.

  “I am Ivor Belikov,” he said, stopping right in front of me. “And Claudine Montague-Fostrop, you have not been an easy person to pin down.”

  “And why did you want to pin me down?” I held his eye contact.

  “That is easy to answer: somebody wants you alive.”

  “Wants me alive?” That hadn’t been the response I’d been expecting. “Who is that exactly?”

  “Why does that concern you?”

  “Well, clearly they are paying a lot of money. Fancy jet and all that, plus the professional services of my man here.” I gestured to Kolya.

  Ivor said nothing, just continued to stare at me.

  I frowned. “I’m pretty busy, you know, setting up my own company and sourcing product. Well, I was.” I turned to Kolya. “Until he came along.”

  “Ah, but it wasn’t him who interrupted your little charade at being a businesswoman, was it?”

  I was silent.

  “I know the details.” He tapped the side of his nose. “But your father’s attempts at safeguarding you failed, and now you are under my control.”

  “Well I hardly think—”

  “You are mine!” he shouted, his nose only an inch from my own. “And you will do as I say.”

  My heart raced. Tension tugged at the muscles in my neck, and I clenched my fists.

  “I will not lose an important client because of a foolish woman.” His voice was low and dangerous, his breath spreading on my face.

  “Who is your client?” I asked, knowing I was pushing.

  “She will cooperate,” Kolya said. “She knows it is for the best.”

  Ivor stepped away and smoothed his palm over his head. He appeared to be composing himself after his outburst.

  I stared at his back, at the way his shirt stretched between his shoulder blades. Hidden power lurked there. I didn’t like to imagine what he’d used it for in the past. Kidnap, beatings, murder?

  The same as Sutton. He’s a murderer, but I still like him.

  The thought of Sutton created a tug in my chest. If only he could walk through the door now…

  No, that was foolish thinking. He was probably still searching Florida for me, no doubt sifting through the Everglades without a bloody clue that I was nestled in Vienna with a bunch of charming Russian mobsters.

  And yes, this Ivor was a mobster. He was clearly being paid a lot of money to protect me and Guilia but he was a man with fingers in pies, and there was more to this than one pay packet, I was sure.

  Kolya stood very still next to me, as if waiting for Ivor to calm down. I suspected he’d seen it all before.

  Eventually Ivor turned, signalled to the man who must have opened the door, then sat.

  A shot of clear liquid was put before him.

  He knocked it back in one go.

  “You are going to the mountains until further notice, both of you.”

  “The mountains? What do you think I am, a bloody goat?” Shit, what was it with my tongue?

  Confusion crossed his face. “No, not a goat, bait.”

  “Bait?”

  “Yes. Where you will stay, it is near this secret daughter of yours. You will both be my bait.”

  Red rage misted over my eyes. The pounding in my chest rattled through my bones and was deafening in my ears. He was placing me near Guilia, so we could both be bait. What the hell? Kolya had not given me this impression. He’d made it sound as though he would be saving us, not using us in this way. He’d made me trust him, and I had. Now I didn’t know what to do or who to trust.

  Again I found myself wishing Sutton were there.

  “Look, Mister Ivor Belikov, I didn’t ask for any of this, none of it.” I pointed at him. “And neither did an innocent child. But I’m an adult, do what you must with me, but leave her out of this. I’ll do whatever you want. She is nothing to do with our family, that fact was seen to many years ago.”

  “I have no interest in your family dysfunctions and, for the record, it is not me drawing her into it.” He held out his hands and shrugged.

  “Of course it is, sending me there…wherever there is, into the mountains. When these men that are out to get my father come to get me, they’ll find her, too.”

  “They’ll find her anyway. You are both on their hit list. Having you close
together is, believe it or not, good use of resources, no?”

  “Hit list, that sounds like they want to kill her.” And me, but I wasn’t too bothered about that. “Why the hell would a dead little girl be of use to them?”

  “Why, to get to her grandfather, of course. Their…how do you say, meat is with him.”

  “Beef.” I scowled.

  “Yes, their beef is with him.” He clicked his fingers.

  His shot glass was refilled.

  “I cannot fail to protect you,” Ivor said, frowning at me. “It would make for very bad consequences.”

  “With the beef people?”

  “No.” He studied me over the rim of his glass for a moment and then drank. “With the people who hired me. They would not be happy with me.”

  “And who is ‘they’ exactly?”

  He ignored my question and instead banged his palm on his chest. “They will screw me over. I will not, cannot tolerate that. My business…empire…will not tolerate it.” His voice was rising, and he shook his fists as he said the word empire. “And I will do anything in my power to stop them getting to you and the girl. It is a means to an end. I have worked too hard to build up what is mine to let them take it away.”

  If the sentiment had been that he’d cared about women and children, as Kolya had claimed, then perhaps I would have felt heartened, but the fact that I was bait for a bunch of pricks out to hold me and Guilia to ransom, or worse, detracted from the meaning. And it was also clear he was putting all the effort in for his own ends too; his business relationship with these people and his empire.

  “Now.” He set his attention on Kolya. “You will go. Take the Range Rover. Do not let this woman out of your sight. Be with her, like sticky glue. All day, every day.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kolya clicked one foot on the ground in a military-style gesture.

  “There are men on the ground already, in the mountains, watching the child. You will stay nearby and maintain constant radio contact with them. We do not know when the strike will happen. It could be day, it could be night.” He glanced at me then back at Kolya. “Do not be distracted. I will not tolerate distraction. It will get you and her killed. Do you understand me?”

  Kolya swallowed and tipped his chin up. “Yes, sir, understood, sir.”

  “Now go. And may God’s care travel with you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Travelling so much in a short space of time was wrenching my nerves—as was the revelation that Koyla hadn’t been truthful. And there was me thinking he was a decent man. I sat beside him in the Range Rover, seething. Unusual for me to hold my tongue, but since this crap had started, I’d been holding it more and more. I doubted I’d be able to stay silent for much longer, though. He hadn’t said a thing, no explanation as to why he’d lied. I’d have preferred it if he’d told the truth—I’d have still gone with him knowing I was bait, just to save Guilia. It was the deception that bothered me. Did he think I wouldn’t go with him? If that were the case, he had no clue about a mother’s love.

  I calculated that we were nearly at our destination. We’d been in the car for over an hour—yes, I’d been quiet that long—and boredom was setting in as we drove through yet another small, picture-postcard village.

  “Look, you…you prizrak chelovek,” I said. “What the hell are you playing at, lying to me?”

  “I did not lie. I always tell truth.”

  Good answer.

  “You telling me about danger and whatever was the truth, yes, but the bait bit? You forgot to mention it, silly you. An oversight. Not to worry.” My sarcasm might go right over his head, but I felt better for being mean.

  “I did not know about it until you did.”

  And I was supposed to believe that? But, goddamn it, I did. His tone had been sincere, as was his expression—soft lines and sorrow in his eyes as he glanced across at me.

  Shit.

  “Would you have told me had you known?” I asked.

  “Yes. A person needs to know certain things. Other things, not so much.”

  “Like who has called upon Ivor Belikov’s security services to protect me?”

  “You do not need to know that. It is irrelevant and will only bring you pain. I do not want you to experience more pain.”

  “So you know?”

  “Of course not. I do not need to know.”

  Of course he didn’t. “Well, aside from that, why should you care whether I’m hurting or not? I’m nothing to you, just a pay packet. Maybe it’ll even be a bonus if you get a fuck and then come through this with flying colours.”

  “I do not know anything about colours that fly, but you are something. More than just a fuck. You are my first…” He cleared his throat and blinked. “My first proper lover. One that I have not had to pay.” His voice quieted. “That means something to everyone.”

  “Bloody hell,” I muttered. “Bloody, fucking hell.”

  “What is the matter?” He gave me a quick look then returned his attention to the road.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  What the hell had I been thinking, toying with him? Now I was feeling sorry for him. All the anger that had festered inside this car was disappearing fast, replaced by sympathy and a twang of guilt. Had I read him right the first time, then? That he was, deep down, a good man? Or was this the way he played the game, going with the flow and saying whatever he needed to in order to get what he wanted? And what he wanted—or needed—was a compliant hostage in order to keep Ivor happy.

  I didn’t know what to believe anymore. He probably had a wife and three kids tucked away in Siberia for all I knew.

  “Claudine,” he said, worry in his tone. “Have I said something wrong?”

  “No, of course not. Don’t be so weirdly sensitive.” I was being mean again but failed to care. Why should I explain my feelings to him?

  Because there’s no one else to explain them to. We’re stuck together, me and him, for the foreseeable future. Like it or not, I need him.

  That comfort thing came back again, the feeling of needing to share myself with another person. But, oddly, it wasn’t about sex this time. I wanted to talk and talk and talk, to get to know him. Have him tell me about his childhood, his life, so that I didn’t have to think about mine. About this crap I was involved in and the fact that Sutton would tell me nothing.

  Everything swirled around in my head then, until I thought I might go mad with it. Too much information roiling about, searing my brain and hurting my previously guarded heart. I’d fixed myself once, and no doubt I could do it again, but so soon after repairing the pain from last time? While on my travels for Blooms, I’d finally begun to accept myself for who I was, warts and all. I owned myself and everything I had ever done, but the carefully sewn fabric of my new life was being undone stitch by stitch, and I had no needle to pick up the thread and make it look good again.

  Damn Sutton.

  Damn Kolya.

  I let out a growl of rage and thumped the dashboard. Kolya jerked his head my way, and I gritted my teeth to stop myself from taking it out on him. I wanted to rail, to cry, to shout to whatever god sat up there on the snow-filled clouds that this wasn’t fair. That a small child was being used as a pawn and He should bloody well stop it.

  He won’t stop it, but I’ll give it a good go.

  I felt marginally better then, and thankfully, Kolya didn’t ask why I’d made such a hideous noise. Perhaps he understood. Perhaps he wanted to make the same noise himself. How did he compartmentalise this kind of thing? How did he not go crazy? He was stronger than I’d given him credit for.

  “It will be all right,” he said quietly and reached out to hold my hand. “I will take care of you and Guilia for as long as you want me to. She will be safe and so will you.”

  A lump filled my throat. I would not give in to histrionics. I blinked a few times and, thank God, the tears buggered off. The last thing I needed was for them to fall down my cheeks and give me away.
/>
  ‘…for as long as you want me to…’

  Was he offering more? Was he saying that when this was all over…? Maybe that wife was just a figment of my imagination.

  No. No, I couldn’t give him false hope. Before, when I’d justified what I was doing with him, it had seemed right. Now that he was possibly wanting more from me… Dear God, what had I done?

  You’re doing what you have to.

  “I can only hope that’s true,” I managed. “Otherwise…”

  “There is no otherwise. I will make sure of it.”

  “And if I don’t want you to take care of us…after? What will you do then?”

  “I will respect your wishes. It is nothing new to me, being discarded.”

  I couldn’t cope with this. “Thank you.” It was all I could say without breaking down.

  This man was prepared to give himself wholly to me, possibly even hoping we’d become a couple. I felt wretched about my plan to use him for information, but I’d still continue to do so if I could. I had to. Guilt and any other emotion associated with this mess could be dealt with later, when Guilia was safe. Then there were my feelings for Sutton. There was something about the man that I couldn’t let go. What was it? His carefully guarded soul? His armoured heart? His reluctance to give in to the physical desires that other humans succumbed to?

  But if I had to believe in something at this moment, it would have to be Kolya. And myself. It was as though we were two against however many, fighting for justice. If I hadn’t let him fuck me, would he still be willing to go the extra distance for me and Guilia? Now that I was ‘special’ to him, I rather thought he would put more effort in. Or was I being vain, thinking of myself as that special? Whatever. So long as he stuck to his word, it didn’t matter. Only my child did.

  “I do not know any other instructions apart from what you heard from Ivor,” he said. “When I know more, I will tell you what I can.”

  “Okay.”

  “Ivor does not allow anyone to know anything until they have to. We rely on information being given piecemeal. That way, if we are caught and possibly tortured, we can only tell what is in the past. Do you understand?”