Tell Me to Go

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Tell Me to Go Page 8

by Charlotte Byrd


  But what about the people that he has supposedly killed. Did he do it or are those just rumors?

  “I have to go back to Boston,” I say definitively.

  Nicholas doesn’t reply.

  “I have to testify on my brother’s behalf. He’s all I have.”

  Again, Nicholas doesn’t reply.

  “If I don’t go and he doesn’t get out, I will never forgive myself.”

  He doesn’t say a word.

  “Are you listening to me?” I ask.

  “I can’t let you go,” he says after a moment. There’s that possessiveness rearing its ugly head.

  “I don’t need your permission,” I remind him.

  “You do, if you want to get paid. If you want to stick to the terms of our arrangement.”

  I sit up.

  I feel tears of frustration and anger welling up in my eyes.

  I had just quit my job.

  The money he’s offering me is more money than I will ever make in a lifetime. But is he really going to make me choose between all of that and my brother?

  “I don’t understand why you’re making this so difficult. I can fly there and fly back right away. I will only stay there for the hearing.”

  Nicholas says nothing. His face is expressionless and empty. He continues to lie on his back staring at the ceiling. I touch his arm to try to shake him out of his trance, but again he doesn’t respond.

  “Why? Why can’t I go? Our arrangement will remain the same. This is just a two day trip on a personal matter.”

  “You don’t have the option to take personal days,” Nicholas says slowly. “This isn’t a normal job. If it were, then you would be paid normal money.”

  I get off the bed and take the sheet with me.

  It slides off his naked body but he remains motionless. The muscles in his stomach move up and down with each breath. His legs lay slightly apart, relaxed.

  His calmness makes me even more agitated. When it reaches a boiling point, I grab my pillow and toss it in his direction.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demand to know. “Why are you such a robot?”

  Nicholas turns his head only slightly in my direction.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I’m going to Boston,” I say.

  “Fine. Go.”

  He rises out of the bed and pulls on his trousers.

  “What does that mean?” I ask, as he buckles the belt.

  “It means we’re done,” he says. “I will buy you your ticket home and you will never hear from me again.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because I don’t need you,” he says harshly. His words are like a knife through my heart. My body trembles.

  “But what about…the offer? Why did you even ask me here?”

  He puts on his shirt. His hands are slow and meticulous, pushing every button through its designated loop.

  “I thought we could help each other out,” he says, finally meeting my eyes. “I thought we could have fun doing it. But I see now that you were never committed to me.”

  Still grasping onto my sheet, I walk up to him and grab him by his shoulders.

  “I am committed. To you. To this deal. I just need a day. He’s my brother and he has been in prison for years. This is his chance and if there’s anything I can do to help him get parole…I have to do it.”

  “If it means giving up a million dollars?” Nicholas challenges me.

  “I will do everything you want. Why do I have to?” I plead.

  “Because I said so,” he says.

  21

  When I have to make a choice…

  Hot tears start to stream down my face. I can barely see a thing through them. Nicholas doesn’t put his arm around me. He doesn’t comfort me in any way. The man that created so much heat inside of me now fills me with nothing but ice.

  How could he do this?

  Who is he?

  Why is he doing this?

  What is the big deal with me taking this short trip? Why is he being so unreasonable? The questions keep coming but the answers stay away.

  “You have to make a choice, Olive,” Nicholas says, walking up to me. He touches my chin and pulls it up to his eyes. “It’s either Owen or me.”

  “Don’t you see how ridiculous this is?” I ask. “I don’t need to make a choice, you are making me. Why? Why are you being so…unreasonable?”

  “I have my reasons,” Nicholas says.

  “Please,” I beg. “You wanted me to plead, you wanted me to demean myself, to beg. I’m begging you now.”

  “I never wanted you to do anything you didn’t want to do,” he corrects me. “It’s offensive that you think I wanted you to demean yourself.”

  I don’t say a word.

  Even though he is trying to remain calm, I see anger building up within him. I have finally gotten through.

  He takes a deep breath.

  His icy demeanor returns.

  He only gave me a glimpse, but now it’s gone.

  He walks toward the door. I run after him and trip over my feet. I let go of the sheet that’s wrapped around me but it’s too late. The fabric is taut and it pulls me down to the floor.

  “Nicholas, please,” I say. I rise up to my feet and stand before him naked and totally vulnerable. “Can we talk about this?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” he says.

  “I want to spend the year with you. I want to go with you wherever you want to take me.”

  “But?” he finishes my thought.

  “There is no but. That’s the end of the sentence.”

  “What about Boston?”

  I shrug. He knows my answer to that.

  “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” I ask. “I don’t want this offer to be off.”

  Nicholas is about to say something but then he shakes his head. I can see that something is on the tip of his tongue, but what?

  His lips open again and then purse shut.

  “What? What is it?”

  “It’s…too dangerous.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “You should go back to Boston and our relationship is over.”

  “You have to tell me,” I say, putting my hands on my hips.

  I have never been so naked and felt so clothed before. It’s like my nudity no longer exists.

  This is who I am and this is what I look like. You can take it or leave it.

  “If there’s anything I can do, please tell me,” I ask again.

  He looks me up and down, I freeze.

  But then I realize that he’s not really scrutinizing me. Instead, he’s gazing somewhere past me at nothing in particular. Thinking.

  Am I really getting through to him?

  “I have a job to complete. There’s a dangerous man that I am after who has taken something very dear from me.”

  I nod.

  “He was supposed to be at the party when we ran into Sydney and James.”

  A wave of relief starts to sweep over me.

  I don’t know where this story is going or what it will require me to do but at least we are talking.

  At least, me going to testify at Owen’s hearing is now a possibility.

  “He is staying on the island tonight. He called a number to ask for an escort to be sent to his room,” Nicholas explains.

  My throat cinches up. I rub my index finger on my hip bone but remain motionless. He cannot see fear in my eyes. Then he will never let me do it.

  “I’ve intercepted the call and I know that he’s expecting her there at eight.”

  “What do you want me to do?” I ask, raising my chin in the air.

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “This is a bad idea. I will just have to track him down and try again. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’m fine with dangerous,” I say as bravely as I can. “Anything I can do to help.” What I really mean is that I wi
ll do anything to prove to you that I’m in.

  He hesitates.

  I watch him think, analyze, assess the situation.

  “If you do this, then I will take you to the prison to testify. But you have to stay by my side the whole time. You will not leave my side and you will not question my decisions.”

  I furrow my brow. He tilts his head toward mine waiting for an answer. I’m not sure I can get anything more out of this negotiation so I agree.

  Without another word, he walks back to the front door, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, unsure as to what to do.

  “Get dressed and come with me,” Nicholas says. “I need to make sure you know what you’re getting into before you agree to do this.”

  I swallow hard and put on my clothes.

  I follow him to the main house and into one of the guest rooms.

  Nicholas opens the large armoire and pulls out a hanger.

  “You will have to wear this,” he says.

  To say that it’s a bra and a pair of underwear would be a grave understatement. The cups are cut out completely, leaving nothing but straps. The panties are low rise bikini bottoms but also missing that ever important area that covers the crotch.

  “Can you wear this?” Nicholas asks.

  22

  When we make a plan…

  I take the lingerie into my hands and examine it closely. The lace and the stitching is exquisite and expensive. The back of the panties is nothing but a long string.

  “Why this?” I ask.

  “He requested that the escort show up wearing this.”

  “So…you want me to have sex with him?” I ask, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.

  “No. Absolutely not,” he says quickly. “I don’t want him within a mile of you let alone touching you.”

  My heart swells a bit.

  He does care about me.

  Nicholas sits down on the bed.

  I find a spot next to him.

  “What is this? You have to talk to me,” I say.

  “No, this is a very bad idea,” he says after a moment. “I can’t let you do this.”

  “Why?”

  “This guy is not anyone you want to mess with. He has killed a lot of people.”

  “What do you need to get back from him?” I ask.

  “Something valuable.”

  I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t.

  “You’re not going to tell me anything more than that?” I push.

  “Not now.”

  When Nicholas gets up to pace around the room, I pick up the hanger with the lingerie and stare at it. There are lace and straps but to call it a complete outfit would be a grave understatement.

  Still, if this is the only way I can get back to Owen and keep my end of the deal, it’s worth it.

  I quit my job.

  After just two weeks of this, I’ll get almost forty-two thousand dollars in cash. After a month, I’ll have over eighty-three thousand. That’s more than I would have made at my old job in a year.

  And if I’m still with him for three hundred and sixty-five days, I’ll have a million dollars. Cash.

  That’s enough to set me up for life. It’s not about never working again, of course I will work. I love working. But it’s about doing something that I’m really passionate about. Maybe I’ll finally get that Masters or PhD in mathematics, anything other than write assessment items.

  It’s also about never worrying about bills again. So, if that requires me to wear this for one evening and not have sex with this guy…why not?

  “What’s the plan, Nicholas?” I ask. “I need to know what I have to do.”

  Nicholas stops mid-step and looks back at me.

  “You show up in his hotel room. You distract him, make small talk. That will give me the opportunity to let myself in and take what I need. He’s staying in the suite so you can lead him to the bedroom. What I’m looking for should be on the desk in the living room.”

  “Should I leave the door open for you?” I ask. What if I can’t, I think to myself.

  “You won’t have to, I have the master key.”

  “You really planned this out.”

  “For bigger jobs like these, there are a lot of moving parts. On the back end.”

  I bite the inside of my mouth. There is so much I don’t know about him and his line of work. But I’m kind of eager to find out.

  “What happens then?” I ask. “After you take what you need to take?”

  “I leave,” Nicholas says.

  “What about me?”

  “You will receive a call and then make an excuse and leave as well.”

  “It sounds too easy,” I say.

  “It won’t be,” Nicholas assures me. “You will have to play a role. You will have to read him. Put him at ease. Then let yourself out without hurting his pride or his ego.”

  “And what if something goes wrong?” I ask.

  “That’s when we go to plan B. I really don’t want to do plan B.”

  Again, I wait for him to explain but talking to him about this is like pulling teeth. He gives me the bare minimum of information and that’s nowhere near enough.

  Whenever I did my previous jobs, I always made sure that I thought of at least five escape plans; things I would say and things I would do in case A, B, C, D, and E happened.

  This isn’t how I operate.

  I’m going into this blind and it doesn’t feel safe.

  But I don’t have much of a bargaining position if I want to hold on to the deal we made. I can see him hesitating about getting me involved. He wants this thing that he took but he’s wondering if the risk is too great.

  “Nicholas, I need to know more. I need to know what his suite looks like. What he’s like. I need to know what I’m getting myself into so I can protect myself against him in case anything happens.”

  Nicholas swallows hard.

  “If anything happens, you won’t be able to protect yourself. That is the fucking problem. That’s why this is such a bad idea.”

  He starts to pace again.

  His body makes short, jerky movements.

  He rubs the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he takes a calming breath and turns to face me.

  “No,” he says after a moment. “This isn’t a good idea. Too many things can go wrong.”

  “But you had everything planned out.”

  “I don’t. You are right. I don’t know the layout of that hotel room. I don’t know anything about him but his first name. Jobs are only successful when you are prepared. I was prepared back there in the club. I had intel that he was going to bring the laptop with him and leave it in his locker. He always felt safe there.”

  Laptop.

  The word slips out of his mouth before he realizes what he’s saying. Nicholas and I make eye contact.

  No, it wasn’t a slip.

  Nothing with him is by accident.

  He wanted to tell me so he did.

  “This is a good plan. I’ll distract him while you go in and take the computer,” I insist. “You were planning on switching it? You already have a replica, right? A laptop that’s identical in every way except one.”

  I want to ask him what’s on it but that’s not important now. What’s vital is to go through with the plan so I can get back for the parole hearing.

  “It doesn’t look like it but I’m good with people. Small talk, that kind of thing. I’ll put him at ease,” I lie. “I’ll take him to the bedroom, everything will be fine.”

  I’m so positive and confident that I manage to convince myself that this job is going to be no different from walking into a department store and taking a dress off the rack.

  I ask Nicholas to lay out all of the details.

  He shows me the laptop.

  He tells me the name of the hotel. The guy’s room number.

  I already know the time that I’m supposed to be there.

  It sounds like he’s starting to ease in
to this plan. It sounds like he is starting to believe that it’s, in fact, possible for us to get away with it. But then he throws a bombshell.

  “No, absolutely not,” Nicholas says. “I’m not letting you do this.”

  23

  When the plan changes…

  I try to change his mind for a bit longer but then give up. There’s no use. He has made his final decision.

  Angry and upset, I go back to my cottage.

  It’s seven o’clock. I only have one hour before the deal is officially off. My mind starts to race.

  I’m in free fall and my adrenaline is on high. A nagging thought keeps popping up in the back of my mind. What if I do this by myself?

  I don’t need Nicholas’ permission. I have done plenty of jobs entirely only my own. Now, he knows only a little bit about my past but he doesn’t trust me.

  If I were to do this and get the laptop to him then it will take our professional relationship to a whole new level.

  I sneak back to the main house.

  I hear falling water and I know he’s taking a shower. I open the drawer where he keeps the laptop and place it into my backpack.

  Tiptoeing into the guest bedroom, I grab the lingerie off the hanger and stuff it into my pockets. The shower stops and I freeze for a moment, holding my breath.

  Snap out of it, I say to myself, forcing myself to focus. The worst thing you can do in a situation like this is to do nothing.

  On the console table near the front door, in a porcelain bowl, I see five pairs of car keys.

  The door creaks.

  There’s no time left. I grab the first one and carefully turn the knob so that it makes the least amount of sound possible. Once I’m on the other side, I close it with the same meticulousness.

  I slip down the stairs.

  Running my fingers along the house and sticking as close as possible to the siding, I make my way to the garage.

  Luckily, it’s open and there are a number of cars parked right in the front. I click the button on the key chain, pointing to one car at a time.

  A silver Mercedes responds.

 

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