Sarah sucked in a breath. Sure enough, it stung.
“Sorry.” Elsa smiled, and then blew gently onto Sarah’s palm. She couldn’t remember the last time a woman had been so nice and motherly toward her, not even her own mother. This beautiful woman didn’t appear to be much older than herself, but she had that motherly quality—maybe because she took care of her brother, but she didn’t know the full story on that, so she didn’t want to speculate. Still, it was nice. Sarah’s eyes welled up with tears.
“Here now. It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Elsa noticed the tears and instantly grew more concerned.
Still holding her hand, Sarah shook her head, feeling foolish. “No, not at all. It’s just, well, a lot has happened lately, and you’re being so kind.”
Elsa popped the top off of the antibiotic ointment and rubbed a little of the gel gently onto Sarah’s scraped palm. It was soothing, just like her demeanor.
“Hold still.” She grabbed a roll of gauze and wrapped up the hand.
“Now you are all good. Come. We will have a coffee and some girl talk, and you can tell me all about it.”
The tears flowed faster. Elsa stopped walking toward the kitchen and turned back to envelop Sarah in her arms.
“Shhh. It’s okay.” Sarah cried. All of her emotions burst past the flood gates—her mother’s illness and passing, her father’s at-will absence, and Anthony’s abandonment all tumbled out in a rush of tears and almost incomprehensible words over the next hour. Elsa listened with compassion and kept Sarah’s coffee cup filled. They sat together on the couch with legs drawn up beneath them. The sun had set, and night was upon them.
A key in the lock interrupted the ebbing of grief and intermittent hiccups.
“Anno, is that you? It’s about time! Where have you been?” Elsa sounded more like a mother than a sister.
“Geez, Elsa, I was only at Erik’s,” replied a voice down the entry hall. “Relax.”
A beautiful blond teenage boy rounded the corner into the living room and stopped. He looked at Sarah.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” He thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stood awkwardly, staring at the woman with the tear-stained face.
“This is Sarah. She’s visiting from America. Sarah, Anno. Anno, Sarah.”
Anno offered a small wave. “Hey.”
Sarah sniffed and laughed. “Hey. Nice to meet you, Anno.”
“So, what’s for dinner?” He walked to the kitchen.
“I don’t know. What are you cooking?” Elsa asked him and laughed at the horrified look on her brother’s face.
“Me? Why me? Elsa, I’m starving!” He opened the small refrigerator and looked at it like it might suddenly spit out a full meal.
Elsa followed and reached around him, pulling out the bags of food she’d picked up earlier at the restaurant.
Sarah stood up, preparing to leave.
“Where are you going, Sarah?”
“I should get back to my hotel. You guys need to eat, and it’s getting late.”
“What? No, no. You’re having dinner with us and then we’ll get you a taxi. Sit. Eat.”
Elsa wasn’t taking no for an answer. She heated up the pasta with chicken and vegetables and quickly put together a salad of cucumbers, tomatoes, and onions. Anno scarfed his down as if he were truly starving, and then went off to his room to play video games.
Sarah helped Elsa clean up. Afterwards, Elsa excused herself to change clothes and grab a duffel bag along with her purse.
“Anno. I’m going to take Sarah to her hotel and then I’m off to work. Stop playing those videos and do your homework. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”
She kissed the top of his head and walked out of his room as he threw a shoe at her saying. “Stop kissing me!”
Sarah smothered a laugh. The relationship these two had was obviously a loving one. She’d never had a sibling, so she didn’t know what it was like, but it looked nice.
On the way down the lift, Elsa explained. “Our parents were killed five years ago in an auto accident. I’ve been taking care of Anno ever since. I was only eighteen then. Anno was a surprise since he came along so late in my parents’ marriage, but he’s my special little man.”
“God, you were so young to be taking on that kind of responsibility. How did you do it? What do you do? Where do you work?” Sarah was full of questions.
Elsa opened the door to the courtyard, and they walked out into the night air, which had grown chilly.
“Wow. It sure gets cold after dark.” Sarah was unprepared, with only a thin sweater over her T-shirt. Elsa wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and together they walked to the street where she hailed a taxi.
As they slid into the backseat, she said, “I work in a sex club.”
Sarah’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.
“Where to?” Elsa asked.
“What?” Sarah couldn’t believe what she heard.
“Which hotel? Where are you staying?”
“Oh. At the Holiday Inn Express, just down the street.”
Elsa gave the direction to the driver. Sitting back, Sarah stared at her.
“What? You’re shocked? It’s honest work. I’m a dominatrix. I basically spank bad men for money. It pays well, and I can afford to keep a nice flat and take care of my brother.”
“It’s not that. You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Really? You spank men?” Sarah’s expression changed from shock to curiosity.
“Yes. I tie them up, whip them, degrade them, make them lick my boots, and spank their bottoms or whatever else they want spanked.”
The cab driver coughed and looked at them in the rearview mirror before quickly looking away.
“How fascinating.” Sarah was intrigued.
Elsa noted that Sarah wasn’t being judgmental at all, but rather, seemed like she wanted to know more. Realizing she didn’t need to defend herself, Elsa relaxed. “Would you like to come visit me at work? I could show you around later.”
“Yes!” Sarah didn’t hesitate. Elsa chuckled.
“I have a few appointments, and then some man from Amsterdam is coming by. He wants to recruit me for one of his uncle’s clubs. I’m not interested in moving, but maybe some of the other girls might be. A few of them will be showing off for him, so you might find that interesting. But after that, say around eleven-thirty, I could show you the dungeons and maybe you can watch what we do there. What do you think?”
“I think I need to know where to go and how to get there,” Sarah replied as they pulled up in front of her hotel.
“It’s best if you take a taxi since you don’t know your way around.” Elsa leaned forward to talk to the cab driver. “Can you come back and pick up my friend at eleven and take her to this address?” She wrote it down on a piece of paper, then wrote it again on another for Sarah just in case. “I’ll pay you in advance.”
“Oh, I can pay for the taxi,” said Sarah.
“I got it. No worries, as you say in America.” The cab driver told her he’d be back at the appointed time and then wrote it in his schedule book. The look on his face was inscrutable.
“Okay, I’ll see you later, Sarah.” Elsa hugged her and kissed her cheek.
Sarah got out and stood on the sidewalk. She waved as the cab pulled away. Turning to go inside, she began thinking about clothing. What does one wear to a sex club?
She had at least three hours to spare before she would be leaving again. She decided to take a nap for the first two hours and then get changed in the last hour. She set her travel clock to wake her at ten. Sarah fell asleep faster than she thought possible considering her level of excitement, but she had traveled most of the day, walked around the city, fallen down, and cried her heart out. All of it took a toll on her, and exhaustion hit hard. It was the best two-hour nap she’d had in a long time.
Chapter Ten
THE PINGING OF THE travel alarm woke her. Sarah lay in the dark, slowly co
ming to consciousness. For a moment, she forgot where she was, and then it all came flooding back. She was alone in a bed in Berlin. Not next to a warm, sexy man in Barcelona. The last thought was quickly suppressed.
Sarah shook herself and then got up, picking out a lavender sweater dress with three-quarter sleeves. It was a lightweight soft cashmere material. The length of it ended about two inches above her knees. Beneath it, she wore a darker purple thong but decided to skip the bra. It was a risky move because the material sliding over her nipples felt like a constant caress and they remained erect. She slid into thigh-high black leather boots and cinched a wide black leather belt with silver buckle around her waist. She left her hair down but added a few curls. Keeping her makeup simple, she added plum eye shadow and black eyeliner that made her brown eyes smoky, and a plum colored lip gloss. Standing back, she checked herself out in the bathroom mirror. A sexy stranger stared back at her; not the mousy librarian from Texas at all anymore. This was not a girl, but a woman. Her mother would not have approved, and somehow, that thought made Sarah smile. She’d suffered too long under Mary Brown’s strict rules and warped religious rantings. Had she seemed even remotely happy with her life, Sarah might have listened more to her mother, but she’d always been angry and miserable, never enjoying life. Mary Brown viewed being a woman as a horrendous burden, a trial by fire bestowed by God to test unworthy souls. It was all bullshit.
She was free of all of that now. There was nothing holding her back. The bounce in her step as she exited her room, purse in hand, told a story of a young woman confident that she looked her best. She may not fully believe it herself, yet, but like the caterpillar in its chrysalis, she was coming into her own. Men standing around the lobby waiting to check into their rooms noticed her as their heads craned around to watch her walk out. One man received a slap on the back of his head from his annoyed wife.
Outside, the taxi waited as promised. The driver did a double take as he looked at her. Gone was the girl next door from earlier and sliding into his backseat was a supermodel! He smiled and offered a slight nod of his head. They drove off to the club on the other side of town. She was excited to see what the night would bring. She wondered if Elsa might let her wield the whip once just to see what it was like to have that kind of control, that kind of power.
Better yet, she wondered what would it be like to be the one controlled? Illicit thoughts raced through Sarah’s head as the taxi passed the Galleria and sped over waterways lit up by lanterns. The night air was cool as it blew through the window, ruffling her hair. Almost there, she thought. Nervousness gripped her even as excitement coursed through her body, settling in her stomach like a swarm of butterflies eager to be freed.
NEW YORK CITY
Anthony awoke late in the afternoon to one hell of a hangover. He and Derek hit the shots a little hard the night before. He sort-of remembered spilling his guts about a certain young woman, and then he remembered Derek laughing at him and making whip cracking sounds. As he tumbled further into drunkenness and slurred speech, Derek managed to remain upright and coherent. Fucking Irish fuck! Derek could drink every day of the week and all day on Sunday and still pass a sobriety test. It was like he just pissed it out without it affecting him at all. Never trust a ginger. Those bastards can outdrink anyone.
He rubbed his face and groaned. His head was pounding like a jackhammer. He got up and walked carefully to the bathroom. Looking into the mirror on the medicine cabinet, he made a face. A shitty visage greeted him, almost snarling. He had exactly two 500mg Tylenol left. If I’m going to be drinking with D, I’ll need to buy the economy-size bottle.
He sighed, then popped the pills onto his tongue and leaned down to cup handfuls of water into his mouth to swallow them. A quick shower helped ease some of his torment, and a cup of coffee would fix the rest. Anthony dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and hiking boots, then headed out to the kitchen. He skipped the coffee maker and opted for instant. His head wasn’t up for any delays and he needed his caffeine ASAP.
Hot, black, and in hand, he walked to his desk sipping the brew. Each swallow seemed to bring him a little more back to the land of the living.
His desk looked like a hurricane had hit it. He barely remembered going through all his pictures again when he got home in the wee hours. Several of Sarah were still up on the screen. There she was, smiling, laughing, looking gorgeous. His notebook was out next to the keyboard and glaring at him from the open page was her email address.
“What the fuck was I doing last night?” Anthony suddenly felt sick. He sat down and opened his email. Maneuvering the mouse over his ‘SENT’ file, he clicked. The file opened.
“Shit!” Anthony’s hands reached behind his head as he leaned forward, chin to chest and eyes closed. He counted to ten.
He opened his eyes again, hoping he was just seeing things, that he was having some post-alcoholic delusion. But no. There it was. An email to Sarah with several of her photos attached. That wasn’t the worst part. It was the message, a drunken slur-typing by a complete ass.
I fucking miss you.
He hadn’t signed it, but with all the images attached and the email address of [email protected], it couldn’t be more obvious who it was from, who wrote those words.
“Sonofabitch!” He sat forward and read it again. He’d meant it, but to what purpose? What would he do with her besides the obvious? He wasn’t the guy who had committed relationships. He just wasn’t that guy!
There was no way he could recall the email, either. All he could do was wait, and if she answered, he’d explain that he’d been drunk, hoped she was doing well, and that she enjoyed the pictures. She was a smart woman. She’d get it. She’d understand the brush off.
Somewhere in the dark recesses of his brain, he seemed to recall Derek saying, “Just call her, man.” In his mind, he could see D’s face looking both concerned and annoyed at having to listen to him whine on and on about a woman. So it was D’s fault. He’d make sure to repay that favor later.
His email pinged and then showed a red number “1” in new mail. He cringed. Here we go, he thought. Anthony hesitated a moment longer, dreading having to say the necessary words to discourage any more contact even though he was the dumbass who’d initiated it, and also fighting a feeling of ...joy...over hearing from her. He clicked the mouse.
It was from his agent, Joe Wyznewski. He felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed. He read the letter.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
De Luca,
Amsterdam Canal Cruises has requested you to come take pictures of their city from the point of view of a canal cruise and do a guest write-up about their business for their website. They’ve offered all expenses paid, lodging, trips on all six of their fleet up and down the canals of Amsterdam, and a per diem. Additionally, they’ll feature your latest book and a link to your other books online. They’re offering payment of $3,000, your usual for a week. They’d like you to start right away. Interested?
Joe
“Hmmn, Amsterdam.” Anthony sat thinking. It might be a good idea to stay busy. Plus, it is a great paid gig. Who would turn down three thousand dollars and an all-expenses paid trip with a per diem? Not me!
He sat forward and began typing his reply.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Hey Joe,
Yes. Arrange my ticket and let me know when to leave.
Although he’d only just returned from Spain, he didn’t feel bad at all about taking off again. He could work on his book anywhere and working kept him from thinking about her. And he got paid, so it was a win-win.
“Red Light District, here I come,” he joked with himself as he got up and carried his coffee to the window, looking out over the street below. See? This is why I stay single. I couldn’t possibly just take off on a whim or a quick job with a girlfriend—especially a wife. Women just do
n’t understand that sort of thing. Anthony comforted himself that he was doing the right thing, but deep down inside, he wished he could take Sarah with him. She would love Amsterdam.
Chapter Eleven
THE ADDRESS WHERE THE taxi driver let Sarah out looked dark and seedy. In that moment, she felt apprehensive and began questioning both her sanity and her safety at agreeing so readily to come to the place. The cabbie pointed toward the stairs leading down to the entrance. Sarah took a deep breath and began her descent. As she stepped inside, she saw a small reception area with a door along one wall and an old-style ticket booth on the other. Behind the glass was a shirtless man wearing a studded leather collar. He was blond, muscular, and rugged. Just as she decided he looked intimidating, almost terrifying, he glanced up from his cell phone and a wide, friendly smile spread across his face. In the split second it took to change expressions, he now appeared approachable. Dimples peeked out on either side of his lips, and his blue eyes crinkled at the corners just a bit.
“And you are Sarah, Ja?” His German accent matched his looks.
Apparently, she was expected. Sarah let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Ja, I mean, yes. I’m Sarah.” She walked up to the counter.
“Elsa is expecting you. She told me all about her new, lovely American friend. I’m Hans. Hold on, liebling. I’ll be escorting you personally.”
Hans stepped out of the booth through an unnoticed side door and came into the reception room. He reached out and took Sarah’s hands in his own and leaned forward to kiss each cheek. His graceful stride indicated to Sarah that Hans preferred the company of men—just as she did.
Indeed, Hans seemed to have a better catwalk than most runway models which was out of sync with his warrior physique. And to think, for a minute, she’d thought him terrifying. He led her by the hand through a maze of hallways, past doorways from which both screams of pain and moans of pleasure could be heard. He seemed completely unaffected by it while Sarah’s curiosity was at a fever pitch, wanting to see what was happening behind each door.
The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set Page 9
