by J. A. Kerr
“Hi, I’d like to leave these for Miss Waters,” he said in English.
The nurse seemed to recognise the name, but she turned to her colleague and spoke briefly with her to be sure.
“Señor, Mrs. Waters has been transferred to our main hospital in Malaga.”
Benedict paled. “Is she all right? Has something happened?”
“Señor is a member of the family?” she asked.
“Yes.” His fear and genuine concern convinced the nurse.
“She is stable and making progress, her husband, he insists on moving her.”
Shit, Benedict thought, they hadn’t eaten and she had wanted to. He realised not eating properly was dangerous for diabetics.
“Mr. Waters wanted the transfer and so it has been done.” She shrugged. Benedict sensed she was not a fan of Mr. Waters.
“Okay, can I leave these with you?” he asked, handing her the flowers.
“Sí.” She smiled and Benedict smiled back, despite the gnawing fear that was building inside him.
Benedict secured the transfer information and left the hospital. Unable to visit Siena, he could at least call. Exhausted, he headed back to the hotel, his mind on Siena and how she kept getting away from him. Now he understood why. She was married; it was like a blow to his solar plexus, and he felt utterly betrayed. He hadn’t even looked at her hand for a wedding ring, his mind had been elsewhere. He realised he knew nothing about her; she was a complete mystery to him. All he had was her home and villa address. He knew he should walk away; it was just one night after all, he didn’t owe her anything. Paying the taxi, he stumbled through the hotel in a daze and eventually crawled into bed, where he would sleep for six straight hours.
Chapter 16
THE BRAILLE CLUB
Braille Club, London, Present Day: When Patron keys vibrate, it’s like a physical shock. Although expecting it, they often gasp in panic and excitement; surrounded by people, they must fight the instinct to run to their zone as the vibrations pulse against their skin. Instead, they force themselves to walk towards the wall of doors, desperately looking for the one only their key unlocks, hearts racing and palms damp as the minutes tick by. Dreading and longing for the moment the vibrations increase, indicating fifteen minutes to lockdown, relief flooding through them as a door clicks open, and they slip inside.
Abbey
Abbey felt like a million dollars as she left the spa and climbed into her waiting car, her body still tingling after her full body scrub and massage. She felt like she was bubbling inside. She had seven missed calls from Steve. Normally she would have been frantic she hadn’t been there to speak to him, but somehow it didn’t feel important today. Her phone started to vibrate and Steve’s face flashed on the screen; she took the call.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you all day,” ranted Steve. Abbey didn’t say anything for a few seconds before replying.
“When will you be you home?”
Used to his wife being at this beck and call, Steve ignored her question.
“I asked you where the hell you’ve been all day?” He sounded even angrier.
“And I asked you when you’ll be home,” Abbey replied.
“Why?” said Steve suspiciously “What are you up to, Abbey?”
“Shouldn’t I being asking you that?” replied Abbey, her voice colder now.
Steve was now utterly confused. Abbey was sweet natured, and this was completely out of character for her.
“Abbey, are you picking me up from training? That’s why I’ve been ringing, we landed early, and went straight back to the club, I need a lift.”
“No, I can’t, but I’ll see you at home in about an hour,” replied Abbey and hung up. She saw Steve’s number flash up on her phone again but let it go straight to answerphone. She knew he would be furious. Steve had told her how he liked her to pick him up—how he liked her coming to the ground in his flash car, liked the way his mates looked at his wife in envy. Her phone rang again, she knew it would be Steve, he would be furious, but she ignored the insistent ringing. A beep indicated he had left a message but Abbey had no intentions of listening to him rant at her. She wondered how long it would take him to realise he would need to get a lift.
Abbey smiled as she saw Luke’s car drive up, stopping to let Steve out, and their eyes locked for a second. She had always liked Luke, but Steve thought he was a total prat. She sensed Luke wasn’t keen on Steve either; he always seemed to keep his distance. Abbey turned away from the window as the door slammed, and Steve yelled her name. Ignoring him, she carried on rubbing the moisturiser onto her skin before removing her robe. She was sitting on the bed completely naked when Steve burst into the room.
Startled, he stopped in his tracks.
“Sit down, Steve. We need to talk,” said Abbey, her voice steady.
“Abbey, what the fuck’s got into you?” said Steve incredulously.
“I said sit down, Steve. Either sit down or get out, it’s your call,” she replied.
Dumbstruck, Steve sat down on the sofa in their luxurious bedroom.
“I’m going to give you one last chance,” said Abbey. Steve grinned; he’d guessed as much and felt himself relax.
“But it’s not going to be easy; you’ll need to work for it,” Abbey said, standing and walking towards him. Steve could feel his erection already pressing painfully against him as he adjusted himself.
“You need to be different, Steve. I know people don’t change, but you’re going to need to try.”
Abbey was now standing naked in front of Steve, and he reached up to touch her. She slapped his hand away.
“You don’t get to touch me,” she said coldly.
“Babes,” groaned Steve. “I need you, babes.”
Abbey understood that Steve had no control, was a wham bam, thank you, ma’am type of guy. Used to getting exactly what he wanted, he wasn’t used to being denied. His handsome face twisted in disappointment, making him seem like a spoilt child, and Abbey almost laughed.
He was tall and athletic, his thick brown hair falling across his wide-spaced, wounded blue eyes. Those navy blue eyes continued to stare at her. He was sexy, and looking at him now all tanned, she realised she still fancied him. He was a total rat; he may never change, but she still wanted to try. Abbey had the ribbon with the bell wrapped around her wrist; she had put it there to keep her focused, to give her the strength she needed.
“Do you see the case I’ve packed?” she asked.
Steve tore his gaze off his wife to look at the bed, and saw the case lying there.
“You need to change, Steve, because I’m ready to leave today,” she said. There was a hard edge in her voice. Something had changed in Abbey. She saw a flicker of fear in Steve’s face as she opened her wardrobe, empty except for a robe. She reached into its pocket and removed the blindfold ribbon.
“You’ve got one chance, and I want you to do exactly as I say.” She stood before him, and she could see the hunger in her husband’s eyes.
Steve went to talk, but Abbey put a finger to his lips.
“This is it, you either do what I ask or I’m leaving.”
Steve nodded, licking his lips unconsciously as he continued to stare at her. She knew he was still mesmerised by her naked body.
“Do you see this bell? You can’t let it ring; you need to keep still, Steve, that’s very important.”
“I’m going to put these over your hands.” She knelt down, careful not to let her body touch him, and slipped the loops of the ribbon around his wrists. Steve was breathing hard, his gaze on her firm breasts, the nipples already erect as if to taunt him. He licked his lips again, his mouth dry as his erection pressed uncomfortably once again.
She spoke to him like a child. Although Steve was blessed with good looks and talent, he lacked intelligence. She stood now, leaning in close, and pulled the basic blindfold ribbon over his eyes.
“Hey,” he gasped.
“That’s
the second thing, Steve, you mustn’t speak; you only listen now. Nod your head if you want me to go on, or ring the bell if you want me to stop.”
Steve nodded his head, a look of confusion on his face but his arousal was obvious. Abbey could tell he was finding it hard to concentrate.
“Steve, I want you to think about my body.” Steve groaned.
Abbey hoped he was picturing her naked body, a picture no man would be disappointed with. She had a petite frame with high perky breasts, a long toned stomach and soft, slim thighs. Abbey knelt behind him, her mouth close to his ear.
“I’m lying here below you and my arms are thrown back behind my head. I am exposed and laid bare to you, but you can only have my mouth, nothing else…not until you’ve earned it. What will you do with my mouth, Steve?”
“Do you want to kiss me? Crush your lips against mine? Take my mouth? Push your way inside?”
“How does it feel?” Abbey’s mouth was close to his ear now “You’re so good with your tongue; I can feel it pushing my lips apart, thrusting its way inside.” Abbey let out a long moan, caught up in the story she was telling.
“Am I wet, Steve?” She could sense he was at the breaking point.
“Your lips are bruising mine as you claim my mouth, sucking hard, your tongue thrusting deeper and deeper. I want the new Steve so much. I don’t want the old Steve anymore.”
Steve looked agitated, his breathing ragged, he seemed fit to explode, desperately pressing his hands down hard against his crotch.
“Every time you’re good to me, I’ll put something back in my wardrobe. You need to redeem yourself. Keep thinking of my body, Steve. My body has missed you…really missed you. I want you so badly, but you don’t seem to want me.” Abbey’s voice caught a little.
“My mouth is full of you but I want more…” her voice teased. “I bite down hard on your lip. You taste so nice; I want you to put yourself in my shoes. Do I need to find someone else, Steve? Because I will; I don’t want to, but you’ll need to convince me.”
Abbey could feel the heat coming from Steve; hear his breathing fast and ragged. “My mouth is begging for more, Steve. Do you want me to find another guy?” Abbey stood then, facing Steve, watching as his body tightened and twitched. “Let some other guy touch me… like those other women touched you?” Steve winced, his body twisting. Abbey could see the sheen of sweat on his face. “Let some other guy kiss me…long and hard. I think I might need that…Let him slip his tongue into my mouth.”
“No,” roared Steve as the bells started to ring.
Abbey smiled; her first real smile in what felt like forever.
Chapter 17
THE BRAILLE CLUB
Braille Club, London, Present Day: Mono Zone XX and XY are somewhat cooler, the heavy perfume from the candles filling the space. Assignees sit and wait, each with their own expectations. Preoccupied, they are still acutely aware of their neighbours. Their hearing registers the breathing that ebbs and flows in the room. Only when the last chair slips into place will they hear what they’re all waiting for, unconsciously holding their breath as the sound of tinkling bells makes their hearts accelerate wildly, bringing the tension and anticipation to acute levels as the Patrons enter the room.
Marbella, 2012
Nick
Nick watched Siena open her eyes. She seemed confused to find her husband at her bedside. Nick knew he needed to give her time. He was very angry—angry she hadn’t eaten, angry he hadn’t been there, but most of all angry some stranger was with her. Who was he?
As a psychologist, he relied on his training to help him get the answers he needed, and that kept him calm. He replayed the conversation with the stranger in his head, ashamed he had hung up. He had lost his temper; the phone had woken him early in the morning, the stranger explaining Siena’s collapse. Shaken, he’d tried to redial only to find the number withheld; this man didn’t like to be contacted, but he was with Nick’s unconscious wife, and it was seven-thirty in the morning. What the hell was going on?
Frantic with worry, he had called Siena’s cell phone, which rang out, adding to his mounting anxiety. His quick thinking meant he located the nearest hospital to the villa and confirmed Siena was there. It took six hours to get there, a journey he had no recollection of, before being directed to her room.
Whilst Nick was adept at understanding the complexities of his patients, his wife was often a complete mystery to him. He remembered Siena had arranged a meeting with the architect; Nick had wanted to postpone, delayed by work commitments. But Siena had persuaded him they needed to move forward, that she was perfectly capable of handling the meeting herself. He had reluctantly agreed, after all their project manager would be there to sort out any of the technical queries. Again he asked himself what the hell had happened. He gazed at his wife; she looked so fragile, but he needed answers.
“Siena,” he said gently. “How are you feeling? You gave me such a scare,” he said reproachfully.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” Siena whispered.
“Honey, we’ve discussed this, you know you’ve got to eat,” he said tiredly.
“So stupid, don’t know why I didn’t, the day just got away from me…” she trailed off.
“Did you test your sugars that morning?” he asked accusingly.
“Nick, please,” she sighed. “I’m okay, I just need to rest, and then I’ll be good.”
Siena closed her eyes again, already drifting off, and Nick sighed in frustration; he wanted to ask about the stranger. He tried to get information from the previous hospital, but the nurse was unhelpful. Nick was unaware his abrupt and impatient manner riled many people, that the more unreasonable he became, the more people shut him out. He was used to the gushing platitudes of his broken and vulnerable patients, their complete faith in him to heal often misplaced and desperate.
He was meticulous in his appearance. His light brown hair was artfully messy, the silver coming through at his temples and mirrored throughout his beard, which was stylishly trimmed. His designer glasses framed intelligent grey eyes, while the slim fit suits he favoured complemented his lean frame. Nick Waters was a man who liked to be in control; he especially liked to be in control of his wife. He was way out of his comfort zone, and the stress was beginning to show.
Chapter 18
THE BRAILLE CLUB
Braille Club, London, Present Day: Patrons stand behind their allotted chair. They each wear a soft, cream silk mask over their eyes, concealing only their upper face; the men are all clean shaven. They reach to pull the arms of the Assignee behind the narrow padded chair back. They lift the velvet cuffs, which hang from a hook at the top of the chair. Bells tinkle as they are snapped into place, and everyone in the room shivers in response. The Patrons’ minds fill with what they hope will be a winning performance; the Assignees tense expectantly as music floods the room, signalling the start of the game.
Marbella, 2012
Benedict
Benedict started with the villa, but it was a dead end, with no one home and no neighbours to question. He thought about leaving a note, but decided against it.
He did however have more success with Siena’s project manager. Benedict called him on some pretext concerning the drawings. Sam Wood assured him his clients were happy with the design but unfortunately Siena had been taken ill. He didn’t know much more, only that Mr. Waters was with her and he hoped to be in touch with Benedict in the near future. Benedict asked Sam to pass on his best wishes for a speedy recovery. He’d sent Matt a text from the hospital saying he was with Siena, and he would be back at the hotel later that day. He could barely get his head around the events of the last day or so.
Benedict decided he should return to the UK. His office would have more background information on the Waters; there was nothing more he could do here. On making the decision he felt happier; his emotions had been on a roller coaster since his arrival. Siena had awoken not only desire in him, but the ability to care, and Benedict r
ealised he did care, he cared very much.
He found Matt at the pool and asked if they could sit at the bar. Matt nodded, shocked by Benedict’s appearance. Still in his crumpled clothes from the previous night, he looked exhausted. Matt sensed something was wrong, everything about his friend’s current state of dress confirmed it.
“Benedict, you look terrible, what’s happened?” asked Matt. Sitting down, Benedict filled him in on the night’s events. Matt looked stunned.
“That’s awful. God, I thought you were…you know, well, just staying at hers,” he said.
“That reminds me,” said Benedict. “What happened when you went to Siena’s? Why didn’t you warn me she was coming to the hotel, and why did you stay at her house?” His questions tumbled from his tired brain.
“Whoa,” said Matt. “Ben, when I got to the villa, another taxi pulled up and a couple joined me at the door as Siena opened it…I had no choice but to go in with them. Siena was very gracious, introducing me to Sam and India Wood. There was another man there as well, Antonio…” Matt frowned. “Sorry, I can’t remember his last name; he was the contractor, apparently.”
Benedict experienced a rush of disappointment. So they wouldn’t have been alone. Had he misread the signals?
“Why did you stay?” he asked.
“Well, because I felt sorry for her, and she’d invited me for dinner. Plus, India Wood begged me to stay, saying she would need the company with shop talk all night.”
“She had loads of food laid out and I don’t know, I got talking and eating, they were nice people, Ben.”
“What happened when Siena left?” he asked curiously.
“She said to enjoy the food, but not to rush and to let ourselves out, because she had an errand to run. The time flew by, to be honest. It was a bit of luck the Woods had ordered a taxi, but that other chap Antonio said he’d give them a lift, so I said a quick goodbye and grabbed their taxi. I didn’t tell you she was coming to the hotel because I didn’t know.”
