Tell Me (19 page)

Thea halted in the doorway, taking in the scene. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“Tony…?”

He looked at her. She had never seen him so angry.

“Sir..?”

He shook his head, turned away.

“It’s a forgery. Some sort of Photoshop thing. It must be…” Eric sounded bemused.

Tony’s reply was low, his voice little more than a growl. “The picture is genuine.”

“But, I don’t understand. It looks like you and…” Eric turned to face Thea, his expression one of shock, disbelief. But she detected sympathy there too.

“What’s happened? What looks like us?” She came into the room and placed the paper cup on her desk, staring from one man to the other.

“She needs to see it. She’ll see soon enough.” This from Eric, who appeared to be regaining his composure slightly.

“See what? What, Tony? What’s happened?” A solid lump of fear settled in the pit of Thea’s stomach. She stepped forward, approaching Tony. Surely he wasn’t angry with her? What had she done? She reached for him, placed her hand on his elbow.

He didn’t turn around, but neither did he shake off her touch. His tone was clipped as he spoke over his shoulder to his head of IT. “Eric, where did you find this?”

“In the car park. I was just leaving, and I spotted it tucked under my windscreen wiper. All the cars still there had them. I went round and gathered up the ones I could see, and brought them all here. I thought you’d better see it, straight away. But there’ll be others, people who left earlier…”

Tony nodded, and turned to face Thea. He reached for her and enfolded her in a hug. She was nearly faint with relief. He wasn’t angry with her then. But in that case, what?

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have seen this coming, prevented it somehow.” His voice was harsh, but she knew his displeasure was not directed at her.

“Seen what? Prevented what? Tony, you’re not making sense.”

“Are you two…? I mean, is this…?” Eric sounded baffled. Thea reflected that he was not the only one.

“A forgery? No.”

“I…see.” From his tone it was apparent that Eric didn’t see at all, but Thea directed her attention to Tony.

“Please, tell me what’s going on. What picture?”

Tony groaned, his arms loosened to release her. “This one, love.” He handed her the sheet of paper.

Thea gazed at it, disbelief washing over her, followed by revulsion. She might be sick. Correction, she was going to throw up. Now.

“Christ! Oh Jesus, how did this…? I mean, who…” She broke off to make a dash for the private loo in the corner of Tony’s office, where she deposited the remains of her lunch in the toilet. She flushed, rinsed her face, and finally emerged to find just Tony waiting for her. He was seated at his desk, the sheet of paper spread out in front of him. She averted her eyes from the image, grainy, photocopied, but unmistakable.

Her body, suspended from the ceiling in The Wicked Club dungeon, blindfolded and as near to naked as made no real difference. Tony was standing beside her in the picture, his whip hand raised, the tawse caught in sharp focus, its motion suspended in the air. Thea’s shoulders and buttocks were clearly visible and displayed the distinct marks of the whipping she had enjoyed, continued to enjoy if her near ecstatic expression was any indication. Which of course it was.

“Where’s Eric?” She started with the inconsequential. It gave her time to think.

“I sent him home.”

“I see.”

“He won't discuss this.”

“What does it matter? I suppose everyone’s seen that picture now.” She stood before Tony’s desk, her body shaking.

“We don't know how many staff returned to their cars before Eric left, but yes, it’s safe to assume it’s out there.”

Thea nodded, grateful at least that he made no attempt to dismiss the enormity of what had happened. At least she was spared that.

“I don't understand. Where did this picture come from? It’s us, the other night, isn’t it?”

It was Tony's turn to nod.

“But, how? Surely someone would have seen. The rules say no cameras. No one takes pictures.” She peered at him, hopeless. Despite her words, her disbelief, the reality of the situation was apparent. Someone had taken the picture, and what’s more they seemed intent on using it to humiliate both of them. Except, Tony didn't seem to care. At least, not for himself. And although he was shocked, and angry, through her haze of confused despair one fact emerged clear, strong, and utterly astonishing. He didn’t appear surprised.

“You knew. You knew about this, didn't you?”

He met her gaze, held it. Then he nodded again. “I suspected it, yes. I knew it was a possibility.”

“How? How did you know?”

“I saw the camera flash. While you were blindfolded.”

Thea doubled up as another wave of nausea washed through her. “Oh God, why didn't you tell me. If you knew…?”

“I saw the flash, but not who took the picture. I was concentrating on you at the time. I didn’t know what they took a picture of either. None of us did. We all saw the flash, and the dungeon staff did ask around. Not much, I know, but short of body searching everyone there I guess they did what they could.”

“They should have stopped it. Found the camera. They had no right…”

Tony stood and rounded the desk to enfold her in his arms again. “I know. Fuck, I know that. I spoke to the club owner afterwards, but it was too late by then. He told me that they had identified the culprit, and that the picture was a selfie. He also told me it had been deleted. They took his word for it. Clearly, they shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this. I wish I could have protected you.”

“But, why us? And what’s all this about anyway? These photocopies…?” She shoved at his chest to stand back, and looked up at him, alarmed. “Someone must have known who we were. Why else are those images here? In our car park? Oh God, they stuck that picture under every windscreen wiper. All our staff…”

Tony’s mouth flattened in a sympathetic grimace. “Seems like it.”

“It was targeted. At us. But why?”

“I don’t know. I intend to find out though.”

“How? And why bother? The damage is done now. Oh Christ, I can’t work here any more.”

“Sweetheart, you can. You have to. You can't just give in. That’s what they want.”

“What about what I want. My privacy? I knew I should never have let you mix it all up. This would never have happened if you hadn’t confused me, made me let down my guard.” In a sudden and overwhelming rush of violent anger Thea aimed her clenched fist at his chest. It connected and bounced off, useless. Impotent. Like her, like her rage. She struck out again, this time landing a punch to his jaw. His head tilted back, but he seemed oblivious to her attempts to do him grievous harm. That just fuelled her anger.

Thea screamed and laid into him, raining ferocious blows on his chest, his shoulders, his arms. Tony allowed it, absorbed her assault, waited until her temper and frustration were spent before wrapping his arms around her again.

“I know, love. I know. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise you that.”

“But what good will it do? We’ll never live this down. Everyone knows. Everything’s ruined.”

“Not ruined. We’re pissed off. And embarrassed maybe, but that’ll pass. There’ll be talk, a lot of talk for a few days, then everyone will move on.”

“They won't. It’ll never pass. I can't face anyone again after this. Neither can you.”

“I’ll survive. So will you. Nothing we’ve done is illegal, and if anyone thinks it's immoral then that’s a matter of opinion. People here will be surprised, amused. Some might even be offended but if they want to hang on to their jobs they’ll keep that view to themselves. This
will
blow over, Thea.”

She shook her head, her knees weak now that her violent tantrum was over. She wanted to sit down. Better still lie down. In the dark. The doors locked. She needed to hide.

“I want to go home.”

“Of course. Let’s get out of here.”

“No. My home. I want to go to my flat.”

“Okay.” Tony sounded less enthusiastic at that, but ready to do it her way.

“No. On my own. Just me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Another brief flash of anger flared within her. “Oh, and you’re such a great judge of what constitutes a good idea. I was fine until I started doing things your way.”

“Now Thea…”

His warning tone was lost on her. She whirled away from him, grabbing her coat from her desk where she’d deposited it when Eric first hurtled into the room a lifetime ago. She shouldered her bag and headed for the door.

“Thea! Wait.”

“Fuck off. This is all your fault.”

That’s no way to talk to your Dom.
The thought flittered uselessly among the tangle of emotions coursing through her as she slammed the door behind her.

“What have you been up to? I agreed to let you borrow Mrs Richmond, not whip her half to death.”

Tony groaned at hearing the familiar voice, on this occasion laced with a liberal dash of disapproval. “Hello Stephen.”

“Don’t hello me, lad. What’s been going on?”

“You know about our little problem then?” Tony had learnt long ago not to even think about hedging with his godfather.

“Some joker sent me a picture. To my home at that. What if Diana had seen it?”

Privately Tony thought Stephen’s wife was made of sterner stuff than her husband gave her credit for and would have likely survived the shock, but he didn’t share that opinion. He settled back on the sofa in his dining room, an untouched glass of whisky on the low table in front of him, and resigned himself to a difficult conversation.

“But she didn’t. Has Thea been in touch with you?”

“No. Does she know about this then? The picture I mean, not the, the…”

“Yes, she knows.”

“Shit! How did she take it?”

“Not well.”

“I’m not bloody surprised. For crying out loud, what is this? I mean, what were you playing at?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Tony failed to conceal the exasperation in his voice. It didn't go down well.

“Don’t take that tone with me lad. I know it's glaringly bloody obvious what you were up to. What I want to know is, why did you let someone take a photo of the pair of you? And then send copies to all and sundry? What you do for fun is your own concern, behind closed doors. That goes for Thea too. But couldn’t you have been a bit more discreet?”

“It’s a long story, Stephen.”

“And it’s not a story I particularly want to hear. Christ, Thea must be mortified. Is she there?”

“No. She went home.”

“And you just let her? On her own?”

“It wasn’t my preferred option, admitted.”

“So why? If you’re into all this, this control stuff, how come you didn’t stop her?”

Good question.
“It’s not that simple…”

“It’s every bit that simple. I’m going over there. She shouldn’t be alone right now. She needs to know who her friends are.”

Tony couldn’t argue with that. Neither was it lost on him that Thea appeared to be the exclusive object of his godfather’s sympathy. Whatever, he wasn’t about to let Stephen Kershaw take over his responsibilities.

“No need. I’ll go.” He realised he’d been planning to anyway, which explained why his whisky remained untouched after almost two hours

“You do what you like, lad. I’m going to see her. Now.”

“I’ll meet you over there then.”

The phone clicked as Stephen hung up. Tony had the distinct impression he’d just been manipulated.

He heard the banging even before he entered the converted mill where Thea had an apartment on the second floor. He could hear the din from outside. And above that Stephen’s voice, raised, demanding entry.

“Thea! I know you’re in there. It’s me. Let me in.” More thunderous knocking, then. “Thea! If I have to get a sledgehammer, I will. Open the bloody door.”

Tony jogged up the two flights of stairs to join Stephen on the landing on Thea’s floor. The older man raised his fist and hammered again on the solid wood.

“Here. Let me.” Tony tapped him on the shoulder.

Stephen rounded on him. “I can thump a door as well as you can.” His expression suggested he might not stop at attacking the door.

“I don't doubt it. Neither do any of Thea’s neighbours. Maybe it’s time for a more subtle approach though.”

“Right. If you’ve got a better idea feel free, bright spark.”

Tony fished a key out of his trouser pocket. “I’ll start with this.”

Stephen grunted and stepped aside. Tony slipped the key in the lock and opened the door.

The hallway was in darkness, the place silent.

“I thought you said she’d be here.”

“She is. Or she should be. She told me she wanted to come home, alone.” Tony advanced along the hallway. He hit the light switch and started opening doors. He hadn’t been here more than a couple of times, they preferred his house. It was bigger, more possibilities. Still, he remembered the layout and quickly eliminated the kitchen and living room. That only left the bathroom, which was off her bedroom. He opened the bedroom door and his heart stopped for a few seconds as he took in the scene.

The bottle of pills, opened on the bedside table, its contents scattered across the carpet beside the bed. A wet stain on the wall opposite the door, the shattered remains of what looked to be a wine glass on the floor. And in the bed, the shape of her body concealed under the duvet, lay Thea. Still, so still.

“Christ! Fucking hell, Stephen, call an ambulance.” Tony hurled himself across the room and ripped the duvet from the inert form on the bed. Stephen was right on his heels, digging in his pocket for his phone.

“What’s happened? What has she done?” The older man was dialling nine nine nine as he spoke, but Tony assumed the question was rhetorical anyway. He grabbed Thea and pulled her into a sitting position. She was fully dressed, apart from her shoes. She still had her coat on, the same one she had grabbed as she fled from their office earlier that day. Tony gave her a quick shake.

“Thea, speak to me. Thea!”

Her eyes were closed, and remained so, though he felt rather than saw the shudder which ran through her. She seemed to be conscious, trying to shake off Tony’s grip.