Hostile Contact (The Hostile Series)

by Tamala Callaway

  “Good Morning Faye,” Symóne chimed as she entered her office with Trevor following behind her.

  “Look at you! You look absolutely gorgeous!” Faye squealed, approaching her for a hug.

  “Thank you, and so do you,” she returned the embrace.

  Trevor greeted Faye, then made his way back out to the front counter to make some phone calls and answer emails for work. Too paranoid to leave her after what had happened just recently, Trevor did most of his work from wherever Symóne was, whether at home or at her new store working on her designs.

  “So, how is Patricia's kitchen and breakfast area design coming along?” Faye asked.

  “It's going to be fabulous. I know that she is going to love this,” she raved. “Have the fabrics I ordered come in yet?” Symóne asked.

  “Yes, they're on the shelf beside your drafting table,” Faye answered. “This is going to be so much more fun coming in to work somewhere like this. I can't wait until the Grand Opening!”

  “Me either. I'm sort of nervous though,” Symóne looked down at her vibrating phone. She was getting yet another text message. Her messages were also being monitored by an agent, so she didn't have to report them, just answer in her usual type responses. This guy actually had the nerve to tell her that he was sorry for running her off the road, but that she'd asked for it. He was upset and just wanted to talk to her.

  Anonymous- You'll never find me. They'll never catch me.

  Symóne- Why don't you just get a life and leave me alone!

  Anonymous- Because I'm having too much fun making yours miserable.

  Symóne- So you're a sad lonely freak?

  Anonymous- Not alone. I sleep with you every night.

  Symóne gasped. She wondered what he meant by that. Getting to her feet, she stepped out of her studio and peeked around the corner at Trevor. He was on his tablet, scrolling and typing away. She started toward him and when he realized that she was coming his way, he got out of the page he was on.

  “Hey babe, how's it going back there?” he asked, turning to face her.

  “Um…okay. So what were you just doing?”

  “Just checking into something. Did you need my help with anything?” he asked and started toward her, cupping his hand up to her back as he guided her back to her studio. She let him walk with her then showed him her project board with Patricia's designs on it.

  “This is amazing work babe. I think she'll love this!” he praised her and kissed her forehead. She smiled, then looked at her phone. No more messages.

  “Trevor, I'm kind of hungry but I don't feel like leaving. Will you pick up lunch?” she asked.

  “Sure babe, what do you want?”

  “A turkey club sub…and sweet tea.”

  “How about you, Faye?” he checked with her.

  “That sounds good, I'll have what Symóne's having,” she replied, then continued to stock supplies.

  Trevor leaned in for another kiss, then headed out. Before he left, he checked with security and confirmed their presence.

  Now that he was gone, Symóne turned to Faye to show her the messages. She frowned and then gave Symóne a curious look.

  “What do you think—?” she was interrupted by another incoming text on Symóne's phone. They both inhaled then looked at the message.

  Anonymous- Scared aren't you?

  Symóne- You don't scare me!

  Anonymous- Hope you enjoy your lunch.

  Symóne- Get a life!

  Anonymous- You said that already. Did you feel me kiss you last night?

  Symóne- You will never get to kiss me. I'm done, don't text me any more.

  Anonymous- Time to stop anyway. Bye.

  Symóne and Faye gave each other a confused look. Fifteen minutes later, someone knocked on the door out front and they both peeked out to see who it was. It couldn't be Trevor, since he has a key. It was hard to tell, since they were so far a way with a lot of furniture and accessories blocking their view. Faye decided to head toward the door and get a closer look, then screeched.

  “Alex! You're back!” she squealed as she quickly opened the door to let him in. She leaped into his arms and he held her while they kissed. Symóne came out and greeted him, relieved that it was someone they knew. Trevor was returning as well, giving the girls their lunch.

  “It's good to see you Alex. How's your dad?” asked Trevor, reaching out to shake his hand.

  “He's a lot better. The surgery went well, and he'll only need approximately six weeks of physical therapy. I'm going back in four weeks after he has his first couple of sessions,” he answered, pulling Faye close. He had been gone for a week, but to Faye, it seemed like an eternity.

  “Well, I guess you two could use some time alone?” he asked Faye. She smiled guiltily.

  “Go on…get out of here. I can take it from here,” said Trevor.

  “Oh, Symóne—?”

  “It's okay Faye. No worries,” she assured her best friend. Faye went to the back to retrieve her things and returned, gently hugging Symóne while whispering in her ear. “If you think or feel uncomfortable in the least bit, call me,” she demanded.

  Symóne nodded and let her friend go be with her boyfriend. She and Trevor went back into her office to have lunch. Halfway through their meal, after talking about Trevor's upcoming case, another issue resurfaced.

  “So…about what the doctor said earlier?” Symóne smirked.

  Trevor dropped his head with a chuckle. “Babe, as much as I want to make love to you all night long, I'm worried about hurting you,” he cautioned her.

  “It's been five weeks Trevor! Do you realize how torturous its been watching you get your fine ass out of the shower, slip on some bottoms, then come lay beside me in the bed and hold me all night with no relief? Are you kidding me? You'd better do something tonight, or I'm taking charge!” she ranted her complaint in a childish manner. Trevor chuckled at her behavior and made her a promise.

  “Okay, so I will do my best to satisfy you without sending you to the emergency room on one condition,” he began. Her eyes narrowed, waiting for the condition.

  He sighed, “You absolutely have to tell me if you're hurting at any point. I don't care if you're about to let loose, I want to know,” he demanded.

  “You're out of your mind! Do you actually believe that I could even speak English during that time, let alone tell you to stop? I'm only a little tender because of the incisions, not because of my ribs. I will sleep with an ice pack all night if you promise to give me the works,” she bargained.

  “Okay, you win. I will give you the works babe,” he promised. “Do you want me to finish up stocking your supplies?”

  “Hell no! I want to go home—right now!” she got up and grabbed her purse, phone, and keys. Trevor collected their lunch trash and bagged it to take home to throw away. He was tickled at Symóne's behavior and walked her to the car and drove home.

  As much as it pained her to move that fast with an orthopedic boot, she was on a mission. Pressing the elevator button constantly as though it would somehow make it arrive faster, Symóne was becoming more and more impatient with it. Just as she was about to head to the stairwell, the doors opened and she got on, pulling Trevor behind her.

  Once they were inside his condo, he put down his tablet and went to start the shower. Symóne removed her orthopedic boot then got in, lathering quickly and washing her hair in the process. When she finished and began to dry herself, Trevor tried to help but she rejected, urging him to get in the shower.

  While he showered, Trevor thought of ways to give Symóne what she wanted. It was true that once they became intimate with each other, his hunger for her was just as strong as hers was for him. He needed to take his time, pleasure her deeply, and all without becoming overly excited and exploding before she was fulfilled. He sighed heavily as he let the hot water massage his scalp.

  “Trevor…what's taking you so long?” she called from the bedroom.

  He turned off the
shower and dried himself, “I'll be right there,” he assured her. He dried his hair, then wrapped the towel around his waist.

  When he turned the corner, entering the bedroom, Symóne was standing on the opposite side of the bed stark naked. Her pose was seductive and she gave him a once over, questioning the towel. He dropped it and rushed around to her, picking her up and lying her on the bed. He was just about to taste her, when she grabbed his hair and pulled him up to face her. She was anxious to feel him inside and wouldn't take any diversions.

  She began to change up positions, testing her tolerance for other motions. Realizing that the incisions didn't hurt anywhere near as much as they'd previously thought, the game changed. She rolled him onto his back and straddled him, going to work like never before. Trevor was stunned, enjoying every moment Symóne worked him. This was her show and he let her perform.

  Afterwards, later that evening, the words of the anonymous stalker began to haunt Symóne. She worried about what he was seeing, and if he was actually infiltrating their security. They were handling this situation with caution and as little outsiders being informed as possible. The stalker could have easily been captured, if the public were put on alert. However, Trevor didn't want this to become a copycat situation. Others with a vendetta against him or his partner could continuously initiate problems or harm to them or people in their lives.

  Symóne stayed extremely close to Trevor all night, waking at every sound in the condo, worried if the stalker was creeping inside. At one point, one of the neighbor's doors slammed and had startled her out of her sleep. She'd quietly gotten up to go investigate, checking the main door, the other bedroom which was now her closet, then started toward the patio door.

  It was closed, except she could hear the traffic outside a little louder than normal. She figured it was because it was so quiet in the condo, but she checked anyway. Pulling back the vertical blinds just enough to check the lock, she caught a glimpse of something in the shadows. She looked harder, but still couldn't see anything. Her hands began to tremble as she reached for the lock, but the door was cracked open. She pushed on the door to close it, but it jammed…on a foot. A hand reached in touching hers causing her to scream loudly.

  “Trevor!”

  She pushed with all of her might to close the door, but the figure on the other side of the door was stronger. He pulled the door open, causing Symóne to stumble backwards.

  “Trevor!” she screamed again.

  Now the figure was inside, a tall slender built man, wearing a stocking over his face. He wore dark blue jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt.

  Symóne wondered why Trevor hadn't answered or came running yet, but she continued to scream for him, hoping he would wake up.

  “He's not going to help you,” said the man in the mask.

  Symóne turned to run toward the bedroom, but was restrained.

  “What did you do to him?” she demanded, fighting her way out of the man's arms. She stomped on his foot with her orthopedic boot and elbowed him in the ribs, breaking free of his hold while he growled in pain. Symóne finally got to the bedroom and Trevor was lying in the bed, still in the position he was in before, his body cuddled up to what would have been her body earlier.

  She reached him, shaking him, but he fell forward—limp.

  “Trevor, please—wake up!” she cried. The man was fast approaching them when Symóne realized that Trevor was awake, but paralyzed.

  Oh God! Symóne! This bastard had better not lay a hand on you! “Trevor was thinking to himself. He could hear, feel, and see her, but couldn't move at all. He felt her suddenly move away from his body, like she was being snatched away. She screamed even louder when the guy put a cloth over her face. She bit him hard, tearing a chunk of flesh from his hand. The liquid on the cloth made her light headed and she fell to the floor.

  “You crazy bitch!”

  He kicked her in the gut. She moaned, but was groggy—too weak to move. The man started for the bedroom, going after Trevor. Someone was knocking on the door, apparently checking on the screams, but Symóne had no energy to move, let alone say anything at the moment. Her eyes were slightly opened, just enough to try to focus in on the man coming from her bedroom.

  He had something in his arms…no, on his shoulder? She thought. She then focused a little more as the liquid started to weaken. Her senses were coming back, when she realized he was headed for the patio door—with Trevor?

  Someone was still pounding on the door, this time it sounded like one of their security team members. Symóne's body was still weak, shaky at best, as she tried to get to Trevor. The man pulled the door back further and went out to the balcony with Trevor.

  “I have to…” she panted. “Stop him,” she continued.

  Forcing her legs to move, she drug herself to an upright position. Dragging her injured foot behind her, Symóne put forth every ounce of strength she had to save Trevor. His hands were moving, apparently coming out of the paralysis, but he hadn't yet gained all of his muscle control. The man began to pull Trevor from his shoulder, but he was much heavier than the masked man. He leaned forward, letting Trevor slide to the railing to fall over.

  “No!” Symόne screeched in Terror. “Please…I'll do whatever you want. I'll give you whatever you want, please…don't do it!” Symóne sobbed, still hobbling toward the patio.

  The pounding stopped and the sound of keys being inserted into the lock sent the man into a panic. He let go of Trevor, his body flipped over the side, Symóne gasped in horror.

  “Trevor, no!” she reached the man and jumped on his back. She hooked her arm around his neck, pulling back with such force that the man began to choke. He couldn't breathe and he backed toward the railing, slamming her back up against it. She let go and fell to the patio floor. The door to the condo flung open and three men came rushing in. At first they began to spread out looking for Trevor and Symóne, when they saw motion out on the patio.

  Symóne began kicking the man in his shin as hard as she could with the heel of her boot, causing him to fall back to the sliding glass door, shattering it. When he fell, she got up and looked over the balcony, praying that Trevor survived the four story drop. She gasped when she saw him hanging on to the bottom railing under their patio. There was no way she could reach him to pull him over, he was too far down. While two of the officers apprehended the stalker, the other came toward Symóne.

  “He's down there, please help him!” she cried as she kept her eyes on Trevor. He was gaining his strength, but not enough to pull himself up. The officer rushed out of the condo and ran down a flight of stairs, going to the unit directly beneath Trevor's and pounded on the door. When the door opened, he flashed his badge to the woman inside and rushed out to her patio. Trevor was slipping, and because her patio was smaller, he would miss hers and fall to the ground. The officer reached out to Trevor's legs and pulled on him to let go. When he did, he almost fell backwards but pulled himself forward using his legs and the grip the officer had on him.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Trevor breathed harshly. The woman who lived in the unit just below Trevor was in complete shock. She has known him from the years of them both living in the same building.

  “Mr. Harrison, are you okay?” she worried.

  “I will be,” he assured her as he bolted for the door, headed back up to his condo for Symóne.

  When he arrived, the officers had handcuffed the stalker and called for backup. While one officer waited with the man, the other swept the apartment for any signs of any other perpetrators.

  Seeing Trevor entering the condo, Symóne rushed toward him. She leaped into his arms, then suddenly felt all of the pain from her injuries. The kick to her ribs, re-broke them, and her being slammed against the rail of the patio, bruised her back. She let go of Trevor and slid down to stand on the floor, but still held on to him afraid to let him go completely.

  Seeing the man's face for the first time, neither she or Trevor recognized him.
He was arrested and taken in for processing. Meanwhile, an ambulance was called to take Symóne to the hospital where she had to undergo her surgeries all over again.

  Chapter 13

  Symóne? Honey can you hear me?” asked Faye.

  She was there for the surgery and Symóne was just now coming to. Her eyes fluttered as she smacked her lips. They were dry and she was very thirsty. Faye reached for a cup of ice water with a straw in it that sat on her night stand and held it carefully up to Symóne's lips.

  After sipping a little bit, she looked around for Trevor. Faye propped a second pillow under her best friend's head so that she could see around herself better.

  “Where's…” she coughed on her words.

  “He'll be back soon. The police needed to talk to him about your stalker,” Faye answered the question she knew Symóne was trying to ask.

  The hospital room door opened and Alex entered dressed in his police uniform. He was there on business, because Trevor had requested him specifically to handle Symóne's questioning. He wanted someone who would be sensitive to her and be a friend.

  “Hey there sexy,” he raised his brows at Faye. “Hi Symóne,” he spoke with a smile. Faye batted her eyelashes and looked him up and down, a thirsty look upon her face.

  Symóne snorted a giggle, but it was too painful. “Aren't you supposed to be here on my case, not a booty call?” she teased him.

  “Oh yeah so Symóne, I have a few questions if you're up to it?” he checked as he came to stand by her bedside where she could see him.

  “I'll do my best,” she agreed, her voice raspy. Faye reached to give her more water, moving Symóne's hair from her face.

  Alex asked her about last night and got as many details from her that she could think of. When he was done with his questioning, the nurse had returned to check her vitals and her bandages to make sure her wounds weren't leaking. Alex motioned for Faye to follow him outside the room for a moment to give her a message.

  “You look stressed Alex. Do I need to give you a sedative tonight?” she gazed into his eyes seductively.