Joel smiled. ‘That’s sweet but I can’t – this time, at least. Listen, none of us back in Seattle want to lose touch with you. It’s almost Christmas – bring Tiger, come out and stay with us. Your mom, too. Let us spoil you.’
Bo grinned. ‘I’ll talk to Mum about it.’
She walked him to the door and hugged him fiercely, not wanting to let go. ‘I miss him, you know?’
Joel nodded, his eyes sad. ‘I know.’
When she was alone, she went straight to her bedroom, changing into her t-shirt and shorts and got into bed. All those emotions swirling around her mind hadn’t stopped chattering. She lay on her right side and imagined Kit’s gorgeous golden head on the pillow next to hers. Bad move. So much pain.
‘Why did you have to go?’ She whispered and listened for the answer.
It never came.
Quilla and Jakob got back home just after midnight local time. Jakob had fallen into an uneasy sleep on the plane, but Quilla could never sleep when she traveled. Her eyes felt scratchy and sore; her mouth was dry and she felt unreasonably annoyed – not at anyone in particular, just in general. Hormones, she thought, and then it struck her. God, not now. She figured out the days since her last period and sighed with relief. It was due in a couple of days. Still, she would snag a couple of pregnancy tests from the drug store and make sure. After Jakob’s volte-face about kids, she suddenly had doubts herself. She wanted a career first, wanted to make a name for herself in the art world. She wasn’t so naive that she didn’t know the Mallory name would help her, but she actually wanted to do the hard labor herself, instead of just being a figurehead. And children right now would prevent her from giving all of her attention to it.
She had the idea on the plane ride home; she would talk to Ran and Grady about a new foundation for arts, independent of Ran’s own foundation, get Flori and Hayley with their respective art and architecture degrees to be involved.
She was so absorbed with the idea; she barely noticed when they got back to the apartment and Jakob put his hands on her waist, pulling her to him. Quilla braced herself for another fucking session…and was surprised when all Jakob did was stroke her face, gazing down at her, his eyes soft. She smiled up at him.
‘You okay, baby?’
He nodded but stayed silent, pressing his lips to hers tenderly, his hands cupping her face. His kiss was sweet, passionate, and heady – after a long moment, she had to pull away for air, bemused by the change in him.
He leaned his forehead against hers. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so angry, that I’ve been so forceful with you. With us.’
‘Ssh,’ she said, rubbing her nose against his. ‘I love you. It’s okay.’
Jakob smiled. ‘I don’t know where my head has been; something in me said Gregor would never go this far. Now he has…I have nightmares about losing you, Quilla. He got to you so easily last time.’
‘Last time, we didn’t have any idea that this was his psychosis, his endgame. Now we do, and we have an army, looking out for us. An army.’ She grinned, nodding back to the closed door to the foyer. Their security detail waited outside, ready for any intrusion. Quilla held Jakob’s hand and led him to their bedroom. ‘Best way to get over jetlag,’ she promised him.
They made love slowly, tenderly, this time, taking their time, taking care over the other’s body, and then fell asleep and slept until the middle of the next afternoon. After they’d showered, Jakob went to the office and Quilla, eager to discuss her ideas with Ran and Grady, asked one of her bodyguards to take her to the big house.
Grady was the only one there and he listened with interest to her ideas. He nodded as she explained how she wanted to set up a foundation which would benefit artists without a college degree or access to art classes. ‘Kind of like Joel’s community sports centers, but for art.’
‘I like it. And you want to get Hayley and Flori involved? I think that’s the right way to go, after all, all three of you did get your college degrees but only after adversity. Would you teach?’
Quilla was surprised. ‘Do you think I’m qualified?’
‘Hell, yes. And if you’re worried, we’ll poach some people from your alma mater.’
His grin was so infectious she couldn’t help but giggle. ‘Thanks, Grady, now I’m even more enthused. Is Flori with you? Can I talk to her?’
Grady shook his head. ‘Afraid not, she’s visiting a college in Vancouver.’
Quilla was surprised. ‘Moving to Canada?’
‘Maybe. At least while her course lasts. It’s just one option we’re thinking about, but look, come over tomorrow night for some food and we’ll talk some more. I know Flori would love to do something with you.’
Quilla flushed with pleasure. ‘She’s a sweetheart and damn, she can draw.’
Grady nodded. ‘The two of you put Pa and me to shame.’
‘Ha.’
‘It’s true. We’re more dabblers; you two are hardcore.’
She was still thinking about his words later; if she was honest, they made her feel so good. That her work was worth something was a real tribute coming from a man like Grady Mallory. Yes, he was related, but she knew without a doubt that he wasn’t just blowing smoke up her ass, that he meant what he said. She tried to remember when she’d last picked up a pencil or a paintbrush. Too long. Even at work, she’d been mired in paperwork and essays, her Ph.D. studies having taken a backseat. Not any more, she thought, gazing out a sunny Seattle as they drove towards the city.
She leaned forward in the seat and spoke to her guard, Rick. ‘Hey, could we go to Skandar’s place?’
‘Sure thing, Miss Quilla.’
Quilla grinned to herself. Rick was an old-fashioned guy, straight out of Texas. Miss Quilla. He makes me sound like Jessica Fletcher. She pulled out her phone and called Hayley, asked her if she wanted to grab some food and chat.
The reply came back. ‘God, yes, please, Skandar’s still at training, and I’m starving.’
Hayley was wearing a long plaid shirt and skinny jeans, and her wool hat pulled down over her long blonde hair as she dove into the car next to Quilla and kissed her cheek. ‘How was Oz? I’m desperate for Skandar to take me at the Open next year, but he says I’ll be a distraction.’
Quilla grinned. Hayley’s natural enthusiasm was catching. ‘Don’t take no for an answer. It’s beautiful. Where do you want to eat?’
Hayley considered. ‘I am supposed to be on a detox so…’
‘Red Mill?’
Hayley groaned. ‘You are the Devil. Yes, yes, yes.’
Quilla chuckled and asked Rick to take them to the burger joint. ‘I need fries in my life,’ she admitted to Hayley. ‘PMS-ing hard.’
‘Poor you. ‘
Rick pulled the car out into traffic and headed towards Ballard. The two women chatted happily, catching up with each other. Quilla told Hayley she had something to discuss with her but, teasing her companion, she kept her mouth shut.
Neither of them nor Rick saw the SUV until the last minute. It came at them from the side, speeding to over a hundred kilometers an hour and smashed the front of the Mercedes, flipped it over and over.
Quilla, barely conscious, opened her eyes to see a man with a gun bending down to look into the car. She heard Hayley moan.
‘They’re alive.’
‘Good. Boss wants the Asian one alive.’
‘What about the blonde?’
‘Bring her too. If he doesn’t want her, we’ll kill her and dump her body. Kill the driver.’
In horror, Quilla watched as the man calmly shot Rick through the head. Hayley screamed then doors were being opened, a flash of a knife as Quilla was cut free from her belt then, as she was dragged out of the car, a cloth was forced over her nose and mouth. Breathing in whatever chemical was soaking the cloth; Quilla heard Hayley cry out.
Leave her alone; she tried to scream, take me, leave her alone…oh God,…help us…
Help us…
Take Me Part 8
Mallory
By Michelle Love
Now…
Quilla opened her eyes to darkness. A blindfold; she could feel the rough fabric against her skin. Her hands were bound behind her back; she was slumped on a chair, her ankles tied. Her head pounded with pain; her limbs ached from the shock of the accident. She felt strangely calm – she was in no doubt who was behind their abduction: Gregor Fisk. There was a sense of inevitability about it all. Quilla swallowed, her throat dry. ‘Hayley?’
‘I’m here.’
‘Are you tied up?’
‘Yes, handcuffed to the radiator. You’re on a chair. Are you okay?’
‘I think so. Aren’t you blindfolded?’
‘No. He…Quilla, he’s tied you up like he wanted to…god…’
Quilla didn’t need to hear it. She could easily imagine what humiliation Gregor Fisk was going to visit upon her before he killed her. Because he was going to kill her, she knew that, but she was damned if she’d let him hurt Hayley. She lifted her shoulder, bending her head to push the blindfold away from her eyes. She blinked, trying to get used to the light. Hayley, her face tearstained and bloody, sat on the floor across the room. Quilla looked around…an old house, somewhat derelict. She could see out of the window they were in an isolated place, but the tree line looked familiar – pines, mountainous. ‘We’re still in Washington, or at least the Northwest.’ Had Gregor been close all this time?
Hayley nodded. ‘I was conscious in the van, though, I pretended to be out. We didn’t travel for more than two hours, and we climbed, I could tell that. Your ear is bleeding.’
Hayley looked terrified, and Quilla tried to smile, reassure her. ‘It doesn’t hurt.’ She looked over herself. Her white dress had been ripped open to expose her underwear, and the ties that bound her crisscrossed over her body were leather straps biting into her flesh. Quilla strained against them, but they were too tight, so strong. She hadn’t noticed at first, but someone had drawn a circle in marker pen on her belly, her navel at the center of it. ‘What the hell?’
‘He said it was for target practice, the sick fuck.’ Hayley suddenly retched and vomited. Quilla felt sick herself. Hayley sobbed for a few seconds then wiped her mouth on the arm of her t-shirt. She looked
‘He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?’
‘No,’ Quilla shook her head, ‘He is not, Hayley. I will get you out of here, I promise. Jakob and Skandar, they’ll be scouring the world for us. I won’t let you die.’
Hayley was staring at her. ‘Quilla…I won’t let him hurt you either.’
Quilla swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Sweetheart, we’re going to get out of here, I promise.’
The door to the room opened then, and they both started, hearts pounding. Gregor Fisk had the widest smile on his face. Hayley whimpered.
‘Well, good morning, beautiful ladies, thank you for joining me here. Quilla, my love, you’re up, and looking so ravishing too.’
Gregor grabbed Quilla’s hair and pulled her head back, grounding his mouth down on hers. Quilla struggled until she felt cold metal against her belly and she froze.
Hayley screamed, and Gregor laughed. He pressed the muzzle of the gun against Quilla’s skin and winked at Hayley. ‘Hope you’ve said your goodbyes, girls.’
And he pulled the trigger.
Now…
There were no words to describe how Jakob felt at this moment. Devastated wasn’t strong enough; neither was scared, terrified or angry. There were no words.
Sickened, he turned away from the body of his employee. Rick, the young Texan security guard, could not have prevented his own death, a bullet to the brain, nor could he have protected Quilla from the fate that had befallen her. Gregor had taken her, and Jakob knew in his bones that he would never see her alive again.
The FBI chief drove him back to their field office and numbly, he followed the man into the interview room. He answered his questions in a monotone and for an hour and a half, he went through everything that had happened since he had met Quilla, Gregor’s campaign of violence, his stabbing attacks on Quilla and Flori… Kit’s murder.
The FBI chief, Carter James, finally looked at him sympathetically. ‘I know it seems like you’re repeating everything ad infinitum, but we never know when the smallest piece of information will be useful. Look, Mr. Mallory, maybe we should go further back, to when you first met Gregor Fisk.’
Jakob raised his eyebrows. ‘You think that will help?’
Carter James nodded. ‘Maybe. Like I said, any minor detail.’
A knock at the door and a young African-American woman looked around the door. She smiled kindly at Jakob. ‘Mr. Mallory, your father and brother, are here.’
Jakob felt some of the heavy dread lift. ‘Thank god, thank you.’
Carter smiled at his partner. ‘Show them in, would you, Ali? Mr. Mallory, this is my partner, Ali Bell.’
He shook the young agent’s hand and then she left, reappearing a moment later with Ran and Grady. Both his father and his brother looked shocked. Ran hugged Jakob tightly. ‘This is not your fault, son.’
Jakob almost smiled; his dad knew him so well. ‘I’ll try not to think that, Pa.’ He introduced them to Carter then filled them in what had happened. Ran nodded when Jakob told him what Carter suggested.
‘Good idea.’
Carter picked up on his tone. ‘You’ve always had doubts about Fisk?’
Ran hesitated, shooting a look at his son, and then nodded. ‘Yes.’ Carter looked at Grady.
‘You?’
Grady shrugged. ‘I never really knew him, but the few times I met him, he seemed like an arrogant jerk. The trouble with this guy,’ he nodded smiling at his brother, ‘is that he’s fiercely loyal. He never gives up on anyone.’
Carter nodded. ‘Maybe you both should sit in on this, give any info you can while Jakob goes through their history.’
He looked at Jakob, who nodded. ‘Good, look, get comfortable, I’ll get some coffee and sandwiches sent it. The quicker we do this, the more likely we are to be able to find Quilla safe.’
Now…
Skandar Mallory thanked his practice partner and went to shower. He always felt buzzed after a good session and this one, nearly four hours, had been exhilarating. Good, he needed those endorphins coursing through his blood. Since Kit had died, he had managed to be a support to his dad, his uncles but inside he was dying. He and Kit had clashed yes, but God…The press intrusion was getting ridiculous and at the moment, the only thing keeping him going was the gorgeous blonde waiting for him at home. Damn, he loved Hayley Applebee, and lately, he’d been churning an idea over and over in his mind.
He wanted to marry her. He wanted to take her away, like Jakob and Quilla, and get married on a tropical island and call her his wife, hear her say ‘my husband’ and belong to each other forever. It was crazy – she wasn’t even twenty years old yet, but Skandar knew they would be together forever. Done deal, no doubts. He’d even gone online and sought out some unusual engagement rings for her – he knew she wouldn’t want a huge diamond, more something that spoke to who she was in herself, something unique.
He drove home, a little too fast, eager to see Hayley but when he got there, the house was empty. Swallowing his disappointment, he read her note. Gone out to eat with Quilla. Oil up that fine body and have it ready for me when I get home, slave. Master Hayley. (p.s. I love you).
Skandar chuckled. ‘Doofus.’ He threw his sweaty practice clothes in the washer then grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He flopped onto the couch, flipping through the television channels to find something to watch. After a couple of hours, he got tired and switched it off, not seeing the ‘Breaking News’ ribbon and the photo of Quilla that flashed briefly before the screen turned black.
Grinning, he wrote Hayley a note. Wake me up when you get in, beautiful. He stuck it to the bedroom door so she wouldn’t miss it and went to bed.
Now…
Hayley scream
ed, and Quilla let her breath flood out. The gun was empty. Gregor laughed. ‘Well, that was fun. Just a little warning to what will happen if you try my patience. Dick, Paul? Untie them. Ladies, there is a bathroom through that door. All the windows are nailed shut, are made of hardened glass and are alarmed. There will be a bullet for each time you try to escape, do you understand? Behave and you,’ he gestured dismissively at Hayley – ‘might get to live. You, my darling Quilla, well, you already know what’s going to happen to you, but the rules still apply. You try anything, the blonde kid dies.’
‘Let her go,’ Quilla begged him. ‘You have me; you don’t need her.’
Gregor moaned and kissed her again. ‘I know I have you, beautiful, and I’m really going to enjoy our time together, but I do need her, mostly to stop you doing anything silly to yourself. You try and kill yourself, try to take that pleasure away from me, then she dies.’
He stood, his eyes not leaving her face. ‘You’ll be fed well, and looked after if you comply. I’ll get them to bring a mattress in for you to sleep on. They’re under orders to shoot Blondie the moment you step out of line. Until later.’
The other two men silently untied them then locked the door after them. Quilla and Hayley clung to each other. Quilla could feel Hayley’s entire body trembling. ‘It’s okay, honey. The fact we’re not already dead means there’s hope.’
Hayley scrubbed at her face, wiping blood and tears across her hands. ‘You’re just saying that to make me feel better but thank you.’
Quilla sighed, leaning against her friend. She suddenly felt a chill and re-buttoned her dress, spitting on her fingers to try and wipe Gregor’s ‘target’ off her skin before she pulled the material around her. She closed her eyes and drew in a couple of deep breaths, trying to quell the terror. Try to think logically; she told herself, calmly. Make a plan – get Hayley out of here. Quilla knew she would do anything – anything – to make that happen.
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