“Your drink,” he said again and smiled.
Mario took it, suddenly thirsty. Sweat slicked his face and stung his eyes. He wiped his skin and in a few gulps, downed half the drink. His taste buds sang.
“Champagne,” he gasped. “But…my god…”
Worth’s smile widened. “An educated palette! Come, there are quieter places than this. Follow me. Stay close.”
Mario reached for Worth and grasped his shoulder. The old man led him between the dancers. The men emerged on the other side of the room and headed to the bar. Heat seemed determined to squeeze the air from Mario’s lungs.
“Can’t breathe,” Mario said and staggered forward. He leaned back against one of the stone pillars. The air tasted cleaner, and he sucked it in.
Worth laughed. “When was the last time you went to a show, sir?”
Mario sighed and wiped his face again. “Years. Not since I was a teenager.”
“Guess you’re past it now.”
“Past it? I’m twenty-seven, old man.” He finished the rest of his drink and licked his lips. Strength returning, he straightened. “Is this all you have to offer? A party? Sorry, but I get invited to parties every day of the goddamn week. This,” he waved his hand, “is nothing.”
“But, sir-"
“But nothing,” said Mario. He shook his empty glass. “Get me another one of these, get me my money, then get me the hell out of here.”
He placed his glass on the bar and stared at the guide.
“Sir,” Worth continued, his hands held up. “There’s more, so much more! This is just to relax you, to ease you in. We know what you want-and it’s all here. We just like to provide a few extra treats along the way.”
Mario pointed out to the crowd. The band had finished the song and burst into another heavier, faster number.
“This is no treat,” he said. “This is a joke. I told you to get me another drink, then I’m gone.”
Worth looked at the empty glass.
“Follow me,” said the guide. “We’ll get you another drink and if you want to leave…well…who am I to stop you?”
Without waiting for an answer, Worth turned and shuffled away. Mario wondered how he had moved through the crowd so easily. He chased after and found him further along the bar. Worth nodded to the barman and leaned back, facing Mario.
“How do you feel, sir?” he asked.
“How am I feeling? Bored and fucking annoyed,” said Mario. “Where’s that drink?”
“On its way, on its way. So you don’t feel a little…pleased?”
Pleased?
Mario glared. “Why should I?”
“Knowing that those people out there aren’t good enough to shine your shoes.”
Mario laughed, amused for the first time since entering the building.
“I don’t need to be told that. I know I’m better.”
Worth grinned. “Very good, sir.”
The barman returned with a filled glass. Mario took it and sipped the bubbly nectar. Again, the champagne tasted exquisite.
“That’s good,” he said. “Excellent even. You’re not having one?”
“Not on the job, sir.” Worth glanced left and right, scanning the busy chamber.
“Well, just remember, after this drink, I’m outta here. Right?” Mario enjoyed another delicious sip.
“As you wish,” said Worth and sighed. “Perhaps in the interim you won’t mind my company for a little longer?”
Mario snorted. “No one else I’m going to talk to. Besides, pissed off as I am, you’re an interesting character, Worth.”
“Thank you, sir. I think.”
Mario gestured at Worth with his drink. “You just…stick out here. I mean, you sound like a butler or something, but we’re stood in the middle of a rock concert. It’s weird.”
Worth smiled and nodded. “It’s true. I was a butler, a long time ago. I still am, I suppose. I serve, therefore I am.” Once again, he checked the groups to either side.
“Looking for someone?”
“Indeed. The person who was supposed to be your companion tonight.”
Mario frowned. “Companion? Olly never mentioned anything about a companion…”
Worth stepped away from the bar and rubbed his wrist. “Arthritis. Always gets me on these damp nights. Yes, a companion. We are quite busy here at the House and have to pair up our guests just to get them through. Don’t worry, sir. Should you have stayed, your partner would have been handpicked to perfectly compliment your needs.”
Mario laughed and drank some more. He’d nearly emptied the thin glass. “You think of everything,” he said, “but you know nothing.”
“Nothing, sir?”
“You don’t know me. You might know what I do and a little of my past…” He spat the word out. “But you don’t know my needs. No one knows my needs.”
Worth winked and leaned forward. “We do. If only you would stay and find out.” He glanced over Mario’s shoulder and his grin widened. “Ah, Miss Foster. Right on time.”
Mario turned.
A young woman stepped from the crowd and walked around a group of chatting girls. She stood at around five-foot-two with a sharp blonde bob. Mario imagined cutting his finger on such a defined edge of hair. Her suit was Armani, he believed. He almost smelt the stench of money radiating from her.
“Miss Foster,” said Worth, bowing. “So nice to see you again. Would one like a drink?”
“Yes,” she said, smirking. “One would. And it’s nice to see you again, Mr. Worth. The pleasure is all mine.”
The guide kissed her offered hand. She turned her head and glanced Mario up and down.
“This the chump they got lined up for me?”
Mario blinked.
Who is this bitch?
“Excuse me?” he said. “Chump?”
“My word, it speaks.” She received her drink from Worth and thanked him. “Last time I went around the place with a professional footballer. All grunts and knuckles dragging along the floor.” She studied him over the rim of the glass. “Let me guess. You’re too pretty to be a sportsman, too…groomed. You must be a pop star? Hang on, too old.”
Too old?
Heat flushed his face again.
“You have one hell of a nerve,” he said. “I’m an actor. A damn good one.”
She laughed.
Mario fought the urge to knock the grin from her face.
“An actor? I should have guessed with such a fiery temperament. Won any awards?”
Mario thought back to the Best New Cock award he had at home. “A few.”
“Oh, then well done you,” she said, flashing a razor blade smile. “I’m Kerry Foster, managing director at SM Pharmaceuticals. Charmed, I’m sure.”
She didn’t offer a hand to shake, and Mario doubted he’d accept it anyway.
“Now that we’re all here, maybe we can start the evening,” said Worth, and began to shuffle away.
“Hold on,” said Mario. “I told you. I’m leaving.”
Kerry chuckled.
“Chickening out already?” She shook her head. “My last partner tried to until he got into the swing of things. Good. Go. I’ll enjoy it more alone anyway.”
Mario squeezed his fists. Did they expect him to pay for this? He opened his mouth to retaliate, but something Kerry said sank in.
“Wait a minute,” said Mario. “If you’ve done this before?”
She smiled. “So?”
“Then you know what happens.”
“You forget. I’m still under oath. I can’t tell you anything, except…” She strode forwards and brought her lips to his ear. “It will change your life.”
Mario swallowed, wishing he still had drink left.
The band finished their song and informed the crowd of their imminent break. Already dancers headed for the bar.
“Intermission,” said Worth. “If we’re going, I suggest we go now. Mr. Mario?”
Mario turned to Kerry, expect
ing some smug glare. Instead, she stared at the approaching dancers with contempt. Her lips had curled up into a snarl. She looked like an angry little dog. Not big and mean enough to do any real damage, but snappy and willing to take a bite from your ankle.
Fuck her.
Mario turned back to Worth.
And fuck him, too. No one’s better than me.
“Then what are we waiting for?” he said. “Let’s see what all this fuss is about. But if this is any way a disappointment, Worth, old boy, I’m suing the arse off you.”
3
Another foot pounded on the thick carpet of the stairs.
Eight-year-old Mario gripped his duvet tighter and pulled it below his chin.
“Mar-io!”
A flicker of shadow on the landing. Mario gasped.
“Mario, my boy,” said the slurred voice from the head of the stairs. “Your dad, he worries about you. Are…” His father hacked. The cough sounded like his lungs had collapsed. “Are you sleeping, my boy…?”
Mario rolled onto his side, away from the open door, facing the wall. He held his duvet close as a shroud and closed his eyes.
Please leave me alone. Please!
His father staggered in with a heavy step, and Mario’s wooden bed wobbled slightly.
“Mario…” his father whispered. “Are you sleeping?”
Mario slowed his breathing and forced his quivering body to lay still. Tiny bolts of electricity seemed to shoot through his limbs.
I’m asleep. I’m asleep!
“My boy…”
His father walked deeper into the small bedroom.
The stench of beer, tobacco and stale sweat assailed Mario’s nostrils. He held his breath, imagining his father standing over him in a stained string vest and torn boxer shorts, leaning forward, reaching for the edge of the duvet…
“Mario,” his father hissed. “Are you sleeping…?”
*****
The man slipped back into the crowd, leaving Mario staring after him.
The wide, tanned face.
The needle-thin moustache.
The black, uncombed hair…
He shook his head. His father wasn’t here.
How could he be? He could never afford somewhere this exclusive. Not anymore.
“Sir?” Worth called back. He and Kerry had stopped several metres away. “Are you still coming?”
Mario looked away from the crowd. “Yeah. I…I thought I saw someone I knew.”
He shook the thought from his head and followed Worth and Kerry along the side of the room. They chatted like old friends. The spoilt brat buttering up her eccentric rich uncle.
What the hell have I got myself into here? Nothing I can’t handle. See it as…an exercise in patience.
Mario thought back to the drugs hell of several years ago. Being found in his dressing room, naked and spread-eagled on the floor. The runner had called in to take him on set. Kid thought he was dead.
A bit longer and I would have been.
Yeah, whatever Worth has in store, it’s not drugs. Olly promised. No more.
Worth and Kerry reached an elevator on the back wall. Mario joined them.
“Going up?” said Worth and chuckled. Kerry offered a polite smile. Mario guessed she grimaced behind it. The girl seemed good at using masks.
The lift emitted a chime and the door slid open. The three filed inside.
“To the first floor,” said Worth and pressed the corresponding button. “You have to be prepared.”
“Prepared?” asked Mario. “What are we doing? Going into space?”
Kerry sighed. “They like us to be relaxed,” she said. “That way, we can enjoy our experience more. We’re going to the pleasure room.”
“The pleasure room?” said Mario and leaned against the wall. “Sounds like a tacky bar.”
“It relaxes you in the best possible way,” said Kerry, and a ghost of a smile fluttered on her face. “Sex.”
“God,” said Mario. “And this is supposed to be my night off. Why sex?”
No ghost now. Kerry beamed.
“I’ve forgotten your name,” she said. “Sorry.”
“Mario.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Seriously? You Italian or something?”
“My…” He cleared his throat. “My father was Italian.”
Worth started to hum along with the piped in music, some classical score.
“Well then, Mario,” she said. “You know that feeling after a nice, hard fuck?”
“Every damn day.”
“Then you’ll know how relaxing it feels afterwards. Like you don’t have a care in the world.”
Mario laughed and turned to the guide. “I’m sorry, Worth. But I’m expected to…you know…with her?” He laughed. “No way.”
Worth stopped his humming. “I thought you of all people would have no problem making love with a stranger, Mr. Mario.”
“Well you got that wrong,” said Kerry. “I don’t make love. I fuck. No time for love.”
“Me neither,” said Mario and turned his attention back to Worth. “What kind of place is this? Rock concert downstairs and swingers on all other floors? Sounds like a teenager’s wet dream.”
“There’ll be no swinging,” said Worth.
“Yeah,” added Kerry. “Nothing as crude and…involving as that.”
Mario rolled his eyes.
The lift stopped its ascent, and the doors slid open.
“You’ll see,” said Worth. “It really is nothing to be concerned about. Nothing at all.”
They stepped into a lavishly decorated corridor with doors leading off each side. It reminded Mario of an exclusive hotel he’d stayed in for the adult movie awards a few years ago. The hotel lay in the heart of the city and was filled with expensive works of art. The dcor had been by some big name designer. He’d been shot the following year.
Funny what you remember.
Worth led the way.
“We don’t expect our guests to do anything they would normally refuse. All tastes have been catered for here. This next step is just a process, very impersonal.”
They stopped near the end of the corridor before one of the doors. A number was engraved on a small golden plaque: 924.
“Here we are,” said Worth. He reached into his jacket and fished out a small key on a string. It dangled from his hand like a glittering pendulum. “Shall we begin?”
The words sent a shock up Mario’s spine. He expected Worth to open the door and reveal an orgy, a sweaty tangle of limbs of Roman proportions. He’d done that before, both on and off the screen. The thought of another one did nothing for him. So why the nerves? Deep down, he believed Worth had something more sinister than an orgy lined up. All tastes have been catered for. Mario hoped this wasn’t going to be a whips, leather and chains affair. He could imagine Kerry getting off on all that, the power, the whole domination thing.
Worth grasped the key and shoved it into the lock. He swung the door open.
Mario peered inside.
It appeared to be a bathroom, or at least a men’s room. At the rear wall stood two cubicles, the doors open. A moulding, looking like a urinal, was stuck to the wall in each. The air smelt sweet, of sugar and cinnamon, as opposed to the sour tang of piss and bleach that Mario anticipated.
“Is this it?” he said. “All that money for a shit party and a walk to the bathroom?”
Worth arched an eyebrow. “Sir?”
Kerry shook her head. “Idiot. You need to open that puny mind of yours.” She strode inside.
“After you, sir.”
Mario shook his head and walked in. On the brighter side, the champagne had gone straight through him, and he welcomed the chance to relieve himself. Just why Worth had brought them both to a toilet was beyond him. He thought of the supposed, imminent sex. Things might be worse than whips and chains. One film he turned down involved certain bathroom activities…
“Sick bastards,” he muttered.
�
��What was that, sir?”
“Nothing. What are we in here for anyway?”
“This is the pleasure room,” said Worth. “Kindly enter your cubicle and insert yourself through the hole. Matters will be dealt with post-haste.”
“Post-haste?” said Mario. “Jesus Christ!” He walked into the cubicle on the left and examined the moulding. It seemed to grow from the wall in polished, pure marble and opened out into a funnel shape, like a rose in bloom. Mario examined it deeper. Just inside, a hole opened into the wall. Mario peered into the darkness.
“What’s in there?”
“Nothing to be worried about, sir. If you’ll just pop off your trousers-“
Mario held up a hand. “Just wait. There’s no way I’m going to stick my livelihood into some…weird thing with a hole in it! Anything could be on the other side of that wall.”
“Why would we do that?” asked Worth. “Indeed, you have paid for a life-changing night, but we aren’t going to injure you!”
Kerry emerged from the booth next door. “Don’t be such a pussy,” she said. “This is one of the highlights.”
Mario noticed she’d removed her suit jacket, revealing more of the blouse underneath. She wore no bra, and her nipples poked urgently against the fabric, two tiny dark blotches against the cream of the material. Mario smiled, wondering how many men at SM Pharmaceuticals would like to get an eyeful of that. As he watched, Kerry unclipped her skirt. It fell to the floor around her legs, and she stepped free. Her blouse hung low enough to cover her underwear, but Mario caught a glimpse of something black, lacy and tight.
“Get a move on,” she ordered. “I’ll be done in a few minutes and I’m keen to push on. I don’t have time to wait.”
She vanished around the side, and the door to the next cubicle clicked shut.
Worth peered around the other side. “I’ll give you some privacy, sir. If you need anything, just call. I’ll be in the corridor outside. Although…” He nodded towards the moulding and its hidden passage. “That should be all you need.”
Mario darted forward and grabbed Worth by the lapel. The jacket felt crusty between his fingers. “Just a minute,” he said. “You seriously think I’m going to do this? Like I said, anything can be through there.” An image flashed into his head from a few years ago. A co-star had taken him to a shady bar in the backstreets of the city. The place had been full of typical S&M weirdoes, dressed head to foot in leather or shiny PVC. Exposed skin was dotted with piercings, twinkling like stars in the darkness. The bar contained a wall full of holes and, should any drinker feel the urge, he could poke his cock inside where a mystery man would suck it dry. Mario shivered. “You might think I’m into all this…doing what I do…but I’m not.”
Come Into Darkness Page 2
