Sweet Seduction Shadow (13 page)

And that thought led to the one thought I should have been having but hadn't let back in through the weightless bubble Ben had created. Who had hired Ben and what did they want?

Something must have shown on my face, because Ben scowled. Ben was handsome with his placid face. He was gorgeous when in the throes of bliss. But an angry Ben, was surprisingly delicious too. I smiled up at him, unable to stop my reaction to this man.

He huffed out a breath and leaned in to lay a kiss against my lips; light, simple, but meaning so much.

"You're stayin' in my bed today," he announced, decision made.

I nodded, still smiling.

"Phone your boss, let her know you're OK," he said, voice low. "Then I want you back here, in between the sheets. I've not had my fill of you yet."

Oh God, I'd barely had a taste of him and wanted so much more. Thinking he felt the same way as me, was an unbelievable sensation. Another first to add to the many Ben was introducing me to.

He let me up off the bed and I fetched my cellphone. It wasn't a nice feeling lying to Angela. And not only did guilt assuage me, but mixed in amongst it was a sense of confusion, because I'd never thought twice about my lies before. But she was so upset with my sudden disappearance, as though she hadn't slept a wink, since I failed to show for work, due to fear. Fear that something bad had happened to me.

I spent a good ten minutes fabricating a story about falling ill and crashing at an old friend's place and promising to be at work tomorrow when the last of my "illness" was sure to wear off.

A hollowness filled me up inside when I returned my phone to my bag and moved to the bed Ben was still lying back on. He'd watched the entire conversation, no doubt heard Angela's side of it too. And no doubt seen the look of utter pain on my face.

He didn't say anything, just held his hand for me to grasp and pulled me close against his chest. Then he just held me. Guilt, confusion... and now amazement that this man could read me, could see what I needed and gave it without a second thought. What would my life be like if I didn't need to run anymore? Would it involve a man like Ben Tamati? I couldn't imagine another man like him. He was unique. He mirrored me in so many ways. He was perfect.

Just then his cellphone buzzed on the night stand beside his bed. He reached over, keeping me in the protective cocoon of his arm and then once settled back against the pillows, swiped the screen with his thumb. Watching his thumb move had me thinking of delicious and extremely naughty things.

"Yeah," he announced gruffly into the mouthpiece of the phone.

I heard the male voice on the other end of the line easily, the speaker on his phone, at his ear, was crisp and clear. I'm not sure he realised that.

"Where the fuck have you been?" the caller asked.

"Workin'," Ben replied with one of his succinct answers.

"Her tracker's gone off grid. Blocked maybe."

"Yeah, I know. It's all in hand," Ben replied, an ever so slight stiffness entering his frame. He didn't pull away though, if anything he held me tighter, as though the caller was a threat he wanted to protect me from.

"Ben," the voice said, an echo of something in his tone I didn't get. "It disappeared in Cook Street."

"Like I said," Ben answered. "It's all in hand."

"Ben, my man," the caller persisted. "Cook Street," he said again, and I realised, having seen that motorway sign outside Ben's garage door, that we were close to Cook Street, if not still on it. I wasn't sure, my knowledge of inner Auckland roads was not sound, but Ben's street did run parallel to the motorway and looked like it could head down to the Cook Street off-ramp as well.

"Nick, I got it, OK?" Ben pushed back, an edge to his tone that clearly meant,
fuck off!
I couldn't help being surprised at Ben's continued defiance of this "Nick" person, who undoubtedly was his boss. The man who sent him to shadow me.

But Ben wasn't giving anything away. More importantly, he wasn't giving me away. Another small part of my heart broke open, letting a little more of this man inside.

"I fucking hope so,
e hoa
," the caller said, his voice as hard as ice.

"I'll be in to give a report tomorrow," Ben said, voice low, but not as if he was trying to hide what he was saying from me. Although, I got the distinct impression he
was
hiding from the caller right then.

"Make sure you do." The dial tone sounded loud after those final words.

Ben sat still for several seconds, then reached forward and slipped his phone onto the side table with purpose. He turned his body back to me. His face was impassive. No emotions, no hint of what was going on underneath. But I could see through that mask now. I could see the man he really was beneath that hide.

And at that moment, I
knew
that no matter what life threw at us, I wanted to be in this man's world. Because he was breaking all the rules for me, because he was standing between me and the monsters knocking on the door.

Ben Tamati was my giant... and I was not going to let him slip away.

"Where the hell have you been?" Kelly's demanding voice hit me before the door to Sweet Seduction swung closed at my back. Shit. I'd forgotten to phone her yesterday, when I rang Angela with my pathetic illness excuse.

"Um, I was sick. While visiting an old friend. Out west." My words were coming in short sentences; abrupt, not thought out, telling. "And couldn't get up off the bed to phone anyone." I almost didn't manage to hide my cringe at those pathetically spoken and untruthful words. My reaction to lying was becoming ridiculous. It felt more than just a falsehood now. It felt more and more like a killing blow instead.

"Oh," Kelly said, all bluster gone at my untrue words. "Are you better?"

I nodded numbly, unable to make a sound for fear it would be a sob. And with sudden clarity, I knew I wanted to tell her everything. For the first time in my life, I wanted to cleanse my soul, put it all out there. Start all over again with this woman, who had fast become a friend.

"And what have you done to your hair?" she asked, cocking her head slightly and squinting her eyes at the shorter length.

I had dyed it ginger again late last night. Ben had watched the entire episode with a contained inquisitiveness. I could tell he wanted to comment, but he held his tongue and simply looked on.

"And are those beads?" she asked, walking closer, an incredulous note in her voice.

I rattled them with a shake of my head, unable to hide a small smile at the crisp clinking sound they made. When I had popped out last night to pick up a hair dye, I'd also invested in some Abi Merchant appropriate beads. These ones were delicate and made of glass, in shades of blue to complement my eyes.

Which led to Kelly's next disbelieving discovery. "Are your eyes blue? Hold on a minute. Who are you and what have you done with Abi?"

My smile fell on those words, because how more truthful could they be? I had always been playing at being Abi. I wasn't really her, and she wasn't really me.

"OK, I get it," Kelly said, fingering my beads. "You weren't sick at all. You got drunk, cut off your hair and decided to have a mini make-over instead. I understand, I've been through a similar phase  myself, but mine involved a surfer, board-shorts and sun-kissed dreads. It was not a pretty sight."

My smile returned.

"Your new look, on the other hand, suits you. Although I never would have picked you for a redhead with blue eyes," she said, turning to swipe up some empty plates and cups from a nearby table.

"I'm actually a pale blonde. The blue eyes are natural though."

Holy shit, where did that come from?

Kelly slowly rose from her crouched position picking up dishes, she worked on settling the pile of stacked plates and cups in her arms for a moment, and then lifted her big blue eyes up to meet mine.

"You wanna talk about it?" she said, no hint of demand, just an open offer to listen.

I sucked in a breath feeling like I was standing on a precipice and any moment now something would come along and push me over the edge into the dark abyss. But Kelly wasn't dangerous, she wasn't who and what I had been hiding from for so long. She was the first person to make it through my rigid barriers, the first person I have considered a friend. I wasn't one hundred percent sure, but part of me was willing to bet, that Kelly Quayle would listen to my story and not even bat an eyelid.

She may not have been the danger I was trying to avoid, but that didn't mean telling her wasn't dangerous. For her. I wasn't quite sure if I was ready to open up to that degree, to risk a friend when they didn't need to be at risk. Roan could use her, could harm her. I'm uncertain how exactly, but he was creative when it came to getting what he wanted. For now she was safer not knowing too much.

But, I
was
sick of the lies and recently lying to Kelly, to someone I liked and respected, felt
wrong
. So, a version of the truth.

Or a stall. I'm uncertain which.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about it, but you'd be the first I'd sit down with a bottle of wine and tell my secrets to."

She stared at me for so long I thought perhaps I'd made a mistake and then she just nodded.

"OK, sweet pea. Whenever you're ready, I'll provide the wine."

I smiled gratefully at her. "For now I'd settle for our usual morning coffees. And you better throw a chocolate treat in there for Angela, I'm buttering her up."

"That I can do," she said, stashing her dirty dishes in the bin behind the counter, to be hauled out back. She gave Lucas my order and bagged up a couple of
I ♥ U
heart shaped morsels, choosing the perfect bribe chocolate without having to be asked.

Grabbing up my stash, I promised to be home for dinner that evening and headed across the street to Pennyworth's. The doors were still locked, as it was before 9am, but upon seeing me, Angela jumped up and sashayed to the front of shop. Her perfectly styled grey hair bobbing at her ears as she moved, her elegant fingers sifting through a set of keys in her hand. They rattled as she swung the door open.

"Oh, I
love
that look on you, Abi," she exclaimed, taking in my new hair colour and then pausing slightly on the colour of my eyes. She shook her head gently, a small smile on her face, but chose to ignore the obvious question my new look posed. Instead she said, "How're you feeling, dear?"

I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent a repeat of my earlier performance at Sweet Seduction with her, and offered a wan smile instead. New make-over aside, I had to stick to my original excuse for missing work two days in a row.

"Still a little shaky, but ten times better than yesterday." Lies, lies and more lies. I was drowning in them and a part of me was quite happy to go under, because then I'd surely feel no more guilt.

"You poor thing," she said in her most motherly tone, which seemed incongruous with her short tailored deep red skirt suit. The suit matched the colour of her nail polish which complemented her lip gloss to a T. Angela was one of the most well put-together people I had ever met. Abi Merchant modelled herself on her. "Take it easy today, sweetie. I don't expect we'll be rushed off our feet."

Mid-week on High Street was our quietest time, not that the foremost fashion strip in Auckland was ever really devoid of clientèle, it just seemed to slow a little on Wednesdays. Those were the days Angela usually sent me on errands. Dropping off repairs around Queen Street, picking up whatever bits and bobs she needed around town.

I slipped back into the routine with ease, enjoying Angela's bubbly conversation and the slower, but regular pace of work in the store. By Lunchtime I felt back on an even keel, almost stable enough to forget the paranoia of the past few days. Then just after the lunch rush died, Angela gave me my first errand to run. I must have started to look and act like the real Abi Merchant in her eyes by then, making her feel able to send me trotting lower downtown to a business in Fort Street I hadn't been to before.

I relished a bit of fresh air and set out at a fast pace, taking in the vibrancy that is Auckland City - my adopted home - in the middle of a working week.

The address on the parcel Angela had given me led to a steel door, nothing on it other than the number on the street. No name of what the establishment was. I wondered if it was an upscale massage parlour or brothel, as Fort Street was inundated with them. And to the left and right I could see those types of establishments open, but this one seemed wedged between all the excitement and deprivation of the sex industry, and instead was anything but enticing in the way the others were.

On my fourth knock the door was finally swung open and a man the size of a small mountain looked me up and down. His eyes seemed too close together, but that could have been because his face was twice as wide as any human's should be, due to either a thick skull or fat. The rest of him was bulky, but I didn't get a chance to register anything else.

I glanced down at the parcel quickly, confused and trying to find meaning where there was none, but his meaty fist suddenly came out and wrapped around my blouse, hauling me straight through the open door.

"We've been expectin' you," he said gruffly, then promptly released my blouse and slammed the door shut at my back.

"Shit," was all I managed to get out under my breath, my mind frantically assessing escape routes. The door had clicked loudly as it shut behind us, so I was guessing it was locked. But trying it out seemed like a very good idea, even if the action would prove futile.

I spun back to the door searching for a handle and came up blank.

"This way," the guy said over my shoulder. I turned in time to see him disappearing around a bend in the brightly lit hallway. My brows furrowed as I took in my predicament.

This was not good.

My mind was trying to tell me the huge guy's behaviour was not bizarre. My heart told my something else.

Shit.

I took one small step toward the end of the hallway, then stopped. My heart was already doing incredibly ridiculous things inside my chest, but it had nothing on my blood pressure. I could hear my breaths as they rushed out past my lips. I could feel tingling in my fingertips that told me I was breathing way too quickly and had been for some time now. Sweat coated a fine layer across my forehead. I licked my lips, wanting moisture in my mouth, but my tongue was bone dry.

My hands shook, just as my head shook back and forward with utter shock. This had been well planned out and a part of me was impressed. It was only a very small part, too much of me was shit scared. But I had to admit Roan had grown some balls
and
some brain cells it seemed.

The mountain-man still hadn't come back for me and I'd been standing here for quite some time. No matter what I tried to think of, nothing in my head could offer up an out. I was stuck behind a solid impenetrable door. I glanced back at it to be sure. Still no door handle. No keypad. Nothing. Just reinforced steel and little else. I turned my attention back to the end of the corridor where the guy had disappeared. The hallway was well lit, not dark and foreboding.

Tell that to my nervous system.

I sucked in a few deep breaths and found what little courage I had left in my frame. If Roan McLaren waited for me around that corner, I'd not face him a blubbering mess. Shoulders back, head held high, I slowed my breathing down with a concerted effort and straightened my skirt.

Maybe that itch between my shoulder blades hadn't been because of Ben shadowing me. Maybe my freak-o-meter had been right all along. I should have left Auckland the night before last, then I wouldn't be facing my worst fears right now.

The sound of my heels on the polished concrete floor beneath my feet echoed as I walked with renewed purpose towards the end of the hall. Whoever waited knew I'd been finding my courage, but I was damned if I was going to let them think I was beaten just yet. I was unarmed, true, but I was not going down without a fight. They'd have to get me out of this building. They'd have to get me into a car to move me down south. There'd be a chance of escape, I was certain.

Or there'd be an opportunity to die trying.

A lump formed in my throat on that last thought just as I rounded the corner and came out into a weirdly shaped room. It was long and thin, entirely shut off. The only way out was back down the hallway I'd just spent five long minutes panicking in. A small area at the far end of the room had a desk and security screens on it, covering that entire wall. A man sat there watching the hallway I'd just come from, as well as outside the reinforced no-handle door and various other spots around town. A couch sat along one wall, opposite an enormous fish tank on the other. Tropical fish swam lazily in between brightly coloured coral. A loop pile rug lay on the floor between the couch and the tank. Black to match the settee and the suit-clad man sitting on it. The mountain-dude stood beside the fish tank, and even though it was the largest indoor aquarium I'd ever laid eyes on, he dwarfed it.

That made three men in the room and me.

The dark skinned man in his equally dark coloured suit stood up off the couch, the whites of his eyes were all I my panic-stricken mind could focus on for a moment. And then he smiled, and the white of his teeth took the award for focus for several seconds. They were big and very white.

My breath stalled.

"Sarah Monaghan, I presume," he said in an accent that threw me for a minute. Not Kiwi, but something I was not used to either. It didn't matter, because it was irrelevant. I wasn't here to deliver a repair. He knew
me
. The old me. I'd just had my worst fears confirmed.

No one had called me Sarah Monaghan for five years.

"Who are you?" I asked abruptly, the breath I'd been holding leaving me in a rush on those words. I threw the useless parcel in my hand onto the couch at his side. I was trying to make a point. I think it failed. He ignored the box and continued to smile his creepy white smile.

"Let's just say we have a mutual acquaintance," he replied, lacing his fingers together before him and rocking back on his expensively clad heels.

I folded my arms over my chest, trying to hide the shaking that had started up in my hands, and stared at him. I think it was a pretty good stare under the circumstances, I was throwing all of my contempt into that one look. I was pulling on all of my reserves, everything my father had taught me, and looking the devil in the eye, trying to not back the fuck down.