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Authors: Rebecca Heap,Victoria

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BOOK: Behind the Facade
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She lay down on the bed, resting her chin on her hand. “If you
come to your senses and dump that crazy bitch in a ditch where she belongs, you
know where I am. Otherwise, if she’s still here when I wake up, I’ll be doing
what I should have done in the first place and ringing the cops.”

 
Sean returned to the guest bedroom. The girl was still curled up
miserably against the headboard. Her hair had fallen over her face and she
peered out from between the smooth strands, her eyes like those of a small
animal caught in a trap. For a moment he couldn’t help wanting to take that
awful hunted look off her face. He felt a wild urge to reach out and comfort
her. What kind of an eejit was he? He scolded himself. She’d reject any such
advance with extreme hostility. He was the root of her terror. He had never had
a problem attracting the opposite sex so it must be that his male ego simply
couldn’t cope with her being so repulsed by him.

 
Raking a hand through his hair he sighed. What a mess he was in.
He was as captive as she. Two beautiful women, one after the other, had put him
in an impossible situation. And was he any nearer to finding out the truth
about his sister? No. Damn the sex. They were nothing but trouble. Hadn’t he
learnt that a long time ago?

 
Breaking into his frustrated musings, he heard her ask, “Why did
you think I could help you? What is it that you want?”

 
It was only then that he realised he’d unconsciously moved to
sit on the bed next to her. He lifted his head to look at her. “I just want
answers,” he stated.

“What about?”

He didn’t
immediately respond, unsure how much to reveal.

 “You
asked about my father,” she prompted. “Is this about him?”

 He narrowed his
eyes and asked,
“Do you really know your
father? He’s a powerful man, but is he a good man?”
 

“Yes, of
course he is,” she said.

 
He stared hard at her. This wasn’t exactly a glowing endorsement.
“Is he capable of killing and abducting someone?”


What,
like you?”

This
both shamed and
infuriated him; his pupils dilated violently, eclipsing the colour of his irises.
He suddenly reached over and pushed her on to her back. She yelped in surprise
and stared up at him with wide, shocked eyes. He raised his hand and she closed
her eyes in anticipation of the blow.

The blow
never came. Before he even realised what he was doing he gripped her shoulder
instead and planted his mouth on hers, kissing her fiercely. When he felt her
struggling, he released her, breathing hard, his face almost as stunned as
hers. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d rejected a woman who wanted him
and was now forcing himself on his unwilling captive. He stood up quickly,
backing away and dragging a hand over his face as if to wipe away the devil
that had suddenly possessed him.

 
Kate felt numb with shock and disbelief. She pressed a hand to
her burning lips, tears welling in her eyes. Hadn’t she known something like
this would happen? Hadn’t her desperate attempts to escape really been rooted
in this knowledge? He must have had sex with that other woman. She had clearly
been giving him the come on earlier. So why was he so obviously unable to
control his urges towards her? What if next time he hadn’t already been
satiated and he gave them full rein? She trembled.

 
Sean sat on the adjacent bed and listened to her weeping. Shit,
he couldn’t stand it! Every part of him yearned to console her. But his
consolation would be her torment. He was fooling himself where she was
concerned; he knew that now, now after just one taste of her. He wanted her. It
wasn’t that her looks were particularly astonishing, he’d had his fair share of
beautiful women,
it
was her nature and spirit that
seemed to have cut through his defences. He couldn’t cope with having her
around any longer. The time to part ways was very definitely upon them.

 
He almost didn’t trust himself to go near her again but they had
to get moving. He quickly approached her. Without fuss and in one motion he
released the handcuff from the bed and locked it firmly around his own wrist,
pulling her brusquely to her feet as he did.

As she
came off the bed she staggered. He pulled her unsympathetically upright again,
ordering her to be quiet, and half walked, half hauled her to the bedroom door
and down the stairs.

 
Outside it was freezing cold but clear. It was past dawn and the
winter sun glinted between the trees, pale and bright but offering little
warmth.

 
Kate had nothing on her feet and so her progress was slow. She
walked awkwardly but bit down on the automatic urge to voice a complaint, not
wanting to antagonise him. Sean pulled at the handcuff, glancing at her in
irritation. Noticing her feet were bare without warning he lifted her into his
arms. He tried not to notice how satisfying it felt to have her up next to him
again.

 
Kate hated being so close to this monster but he gripped her so
firmly she could do nothing to resist and she was now more afraid of him than
ever. Fear of death had been superseded by a personal fear, much greater in
magnitude. She thought she understood now why he’d taken her: he wanted to rape
her. It was nothing more complicated, nor more horrifying, than that.

 
They arrived at the car
and Sean bundled Kate inside, quickly and expertly unfastening the cuff that
linked her to him, only to secure it to the inner door handle. Once in the
driver’s seat he didn’t start the engine but chose instead to release the
handbrake, letting the car slowly glide backwards down the driveway to ensure
their departure was as silent as possible. Once they reached the entryway he
turned to Kate and passed her the sunglasses, demanding that she put them on.
He then turned the ignition, flipped the car around and accelerated away.

 
Sean turned the car in the direction of the west coast. Both of
them remained silent and lost in their own ruminations. Sean had in mind to
dump her at a service station and then get back home, before the alarm was
raised and there was any watch on the airports.

“Stop!”
This cry from Kate
surprised Sean so much he lost concentration and the car suffered a momentary
wobble to the left. He turned to Kate with considerable annoyance in his eyes
but this did nothing to deter her from acting even more surprisingly, removing
the sunglasses and tugging on his left arm, urging him again to “Please, stop!”

 
At this, for sheer safety’s sake, he pulled over to the hard
shoulder at the side of the road, sharply applying the brakes. His frustration
with the whole situation re-ignited and fused with his mortification over what
had happened in the bedroom. Whilst his rage had been directed at himself for
losing his usual self-control, it now turned to direct itself at Kate. Wasn’t
she the reason everything had derailed and he’d lost his focus?

 
“What do you want?!” he roared. “Why do you keep being so
fuckin
’ difficult?”

 
She now shrank from the fury she saw in his face but found
enough courage to speak again. “Please,” she implored, “please, just listen.”

 
He glowered at her. The explicit entreaty he saw in her eyes
gave him pause but he just assumed she was going to beg for his mercy. “Do you
know how easy this could have been if you’d just gone along quietly? I am not
going to kill you or rape you, if that’s what you’re
thinkin
!”

She
interrupted his diatribe with, “We need to go back! Now! Please!”

“What?”
he exclaimed, completely taken aback. “What the hell do you mean?
Back to Angela’s?”

 
She nodded. “Please, please! I’m begging you.” She sobbed and
lowered her head, overcome by emotion.

 
Sean stared at her, utterly thrown by this request. He leaned
forward and shook her. “Explain to me. Why? Why do you want to go back there?”

 
She raised her head then and he could see that tears were
flowing down her face and she was shaking with distress. This alarmed him. He
let go of her and gave her time to compose herself.

 
She finally looked up, tears still looming in her eyes, and said
softly “I don’t expect you to understand. I’ve lost something…..something
incredibly dear to me.
A locket.
It belonged to my
mother.” She choked back more sobs on this last word. “The mother I barely
remember.” She put a hand to her throat, “It’s gone. It must have come loose
somehow. It must be back there, at the house.”

 
He regarded her scornfully. “Going back is not a good idea,” he
stated. “You’ll just have to live without it.”

 
She knew she had to do something, anything, to convince him otherwise.
In desperation she promised, “I’ll not cause you any more trouble. I’ll do
everything you ask!”

 
He regarded her contemplatively. Perhaps she was still playing
games – was there a hidden ploy in all this? But then what advantage would she
gain in returning to the house? He dragged his eyes from her anguished gaze
with difficulty, trying to look at this logically. If she was telling the truth
about the lost locket and he did not recover it, it might be found. It sounded
like a unique item and so might identify her and place her at Angela's. At this
point nobody, not even Kate, knew where they'd been. Once discovered Angela
could also be connected to him and might report it to the police. There was a
risk in doing nothing and it would only take half an hour to drive back. What
difference could this make?

CHAPTER
5

Brenna emitted a small moan of bliss
as she sank into the warm embrace of the hot tub. The water bubbled up to greet
her, matching the fizzing excitement of her heart that hadn’t quite recovered
from recent events. She was still sure they’d chosen the wrong person and any
minute now someone would come in to brand her as an imposter and force her off
the premises. She glanced towards the door. No sign yet of being disturbed.
Grinning she sank back under the water. Better get on with enjoying herself.
Gazing up at the stars above her she thanked her lucky star, whichever one that
was, for guiding her here.

It was certainly good luck that she’d
had an argument with her mother, one in an endless round lately, which had
resulted in her decision to bunk off college and go into town. Not that her
mother really cared what she was doing. All she cared about was herself and her
current boyfriend- the one that apparently loved her too much to ever try it on
with her own daughter. How dare she even suggest such a thing? Why would he
want her anyway? She was nothing. She was an ugly, skinny, carrot-top and
always would be.

How she hated her! She’d longed to get
out from under her but her brother had insisted she get her qualifications
first. It was easy for him to say this, not so easy to live it when her mother
was such a bitch and her live-in lover was little short of a paedophile. Not
that she’d mentioned the last part to Sean. She didn’t want him getting himself
all in a sweat. 

Why was she dwelling on this now? What
had happened since proved she was beautiful, at least in someone’s eyes.
‘Exceptional’ they’d called her. She didn’t need college anymore and she
definitely didn’t need her mother.  As her body began to relax and her
heart finally slowed, she took her mind back over the past few hours to see if
reflection would make it any more believable. She’d never even considered modelling
before; she’d never thought herself photogenic. But that man had obviously seen
something in her and he’d been right!
Because here she was.

At first she’d thought he was just
making a play for her. Smiling, she remembered how flattered she’d been. He’d
been gorgeous after all. Ebony hair, olive skin, with such a sexy angel tattoo
on his right, incredibly
toned,
bicep. She’d been
sitting by herself, cradling a cup of coffee when he’d taken the chair
opposite. But she wasn’t stupid. She knew she looked vulnerable and had
instantly dismissed the idea he was truly interested in her. She’d even steeled
herself to get rid of him.

But then he’d surprised her by
slipping out a card and saying, “Don’t take this the wrong way but I think
you’re exactly what we’ve been looking for. There isn’t much time, but you
could still make the interview.”

She’d frowned.

He’d continued. “There’s my business
card. We’re a legitimate agency. I’ve written the time and place on the
back.  We don’t normally operate this way, so forgive my intrusion. But
please give it some thought. There’ll be other girls but I think you have a
real chance. No harm in giving it a go, right?” He’d smiled - and what a killer
smile!
Squeezed her arm and left.

It was only when he’d gone and she’d picked
up the card that she’d even realised what he was on about. “Sebastian
Sethos
,” it had declared.
“Business
Agent.
Faces of the Future Modelling Agency.”
She’d flipped it over. The address on the back was somewhere she could vaguely
place. One of the new shiny office blocks on Queen Street, she thought, and the
interview time was only an hour away. She’d been cautious of course. This could
just be a trick of some kind.  Then she’d shaken her head. She’d read too
many thrillers lately. This was real life. But nothing like this ever happened
to her in real life!  In the end, the safest thing to do, she’d decided,
was to take her friend Stacey with her as back-up.

She’d turned up with a giggling Stacey
in tow, who’d had to miss her last class but had been more than willing to
share the adventure. The man at the front desk had directed them to the fifth
floor. There they had found other girls sitting on a line of chairs in the
corridor.  This had both reassured and frightened Brenna. So much
competition! She had no chance. They’d all looked immaculately made-up and had
what looked like portfolios on their knees. She’d nearly turned away.

But then an efficient looking,
matronly woman with a clipboard had addressed her, asking for her name. Brenna
hadn’t given it and, blushing with embarrassment, instead she’d said, “I think
there’s been some mistake. You won’t have my name. I don’t think I should be
here.”

Raising her eyebrows, the woman had
retorted, “I’ll be the judge of that. Now why are you here? Did someone invite
you?”

Brenna had stuttered something like,
“I think I’ll just go. I’m sorry to have troubled you…” as she’d backed towards
the lift.

It was then the woman had spotted the card
clutched in her hand. She’d prised it from her and nodded. “This is your
invitation. Good.” Taking her arm and taking control, she’d admonished, “Don’t
be shy. Come with me,” giving Brenna no choice but to acquiesce.

Stacey had made to accompany her but
had been stopped. “No, no. Not you. You must leave.”

Stacey had looked disgruntled but
Brenna had mouthed, “Don’t worry. It all looks OK. Speak later.” She had been
led swiftly past the other girls, who had fired daggers at her because of her
special VIP,
  jump
the queue treatment.

 At the end of the corridor
there’d been some double-doors. She’d been ushered through into an open,
well-lit room before a long desk with three extremely serious looking, suited
people behind it. A large man sat in the middle with two very attractive,
well-groomed women on either side of him, one blonde the other dark-haired. All
of them had immediately focused on her, eyes all different in colour but no
different in intensity. Feeling like a contestant on one of those wannabe pop
star shows, she’d made an attempt to flatten her awry hair and had looked
pleadingly at her chaperon for rescue.

Smiling, her escort had said to the
waiting audience, “This is…” and leaning down had quietly asked Brenna her
name, before finishing off her introduction. 

Then the man on the panel had said,
“Welcome Brenna.” He’d stood and held out his hand. His smile had looked odd as
though not suited to his face, which was rather pug-like, but it had seemed
genuine enough. “I’m Harry, and this is Hilary and Margot.” He’d gestured first
to his right then his left, introducing the two chicly dressed women.

“Hi,” replied Brenna nervously as
she’d instinctively moved forwards and taken his hand. His grip had been firm,
his large hand completely engulfing her small one. He’d held on to her, turning
her fingers over in his and studying the nails and skin. He’d then looked up
and scrutinised her face. Brenna had swallowed, uncomfortable. His dark eyes
had felt like ants scurrying over her skin. She shivered at the memory. 

She’d been relieved when he’d released
her hand but he’d not released his gaze. Examining a lock of her hair he’d
asked abruptly, “Is this your true colour?”

Brenna had simply
nodded,
her mouth too dry to form words. Apparently satisfied, he’d then dismissed her
with a flick of his hand, instructing her to return to the middle of the room.
He’d sat back down and perused some papers on his desk for a minute, a minute
that felt like forever to Brenna, as she’d stood there feeling like an insect
under a microscope.

Then the questions had begun.
Strangely this had put her more at ease. She had expected questions.

 “We don’t have much detail on
you, I’m afraid. May I ask you your age?”

“Sixteen,” she’d responded truthfully.

He’d seemed troubled by this, his face
creasing a little. “Not still in school are you?”     
She’d vigorously shaken her head.  He’d nodded in satisfaction. Then after
a brief conversation with his two colleagues, he’d asked. “Could you turn around
for us? Slowly please.”  

As she’d revolved, feeling very
self-conscious, Brenna had become convinced this was a candid camera show and
any minute someone would jump out and surprise her. 

Then Hilary, the blonde, had risen
from her seat and walked towards her, carrying out a quick, but concentrated
appraisal of her. Wishing she was wearing something a lot more flattering than
her skinny jeans and favourite but well-worn top, Brenna had thought if this
wasn’t a wind up, then it must be some kind of weird dream. Hilary returned to
her seat and all three of them debated intensely between themselves.

What came next had come completely out
of the blue. “We’re prepared to make you an offer,” Harry had said.
“Subject, of course, to age verification and parental approval.”

Despair had quickly followed on the
heels of elation. “Parental approval?” she’d queried. Her mother would
positively revel in denying her such an opportunity. “My mother will never
approve of this.”

“Father?”

She’d shaken her head. 

“Do you have an appropriate adult who
might stand in for them
?“

She’d thought of her brother but
quickly dismissed the idea of asking him. He’d definitely want her to
finish college first.

“This isn’t going to happen, is it? I
don’t even have a portfolio.” She was sure this would be the nail in the
coffin.

 “Oh, don’t worry about that,
honey,” Margot had piped up. “We don’t put much store in pre-produced
portfolios. Once you’re with us, we like to design our own around our concept
of your unique selling points.”

Harry interjected.  “Look, we
like you. We think you have potential. But we need you to sign a contract with
us so we can act as your agent and promote you.  Because you’re under 18,
in the absence of parental consent, there’ll have to be a disclaimer as well,
confirming you understand the agreement and have waived the right to parental
consultation. You ok with that?”

“Absolutely!” she’d confirmed without
hesitation, her hopes reignited.

“Great.”

Margot had then shuffled some papers
and produced a two-page document that she’d handed to Brenna with a pen,
offering up her chair and saying, “Please sit down, whilst you read through
it.”

At least it wasn’t some mammoth
agreement with lots of small print. This comforted her but she’d taken her time
examining it. Her brother had always counselled her to read any legal document
carefully. It had looked OK to her. It talked about promoting and marketing
with something about a 15% share in her income and a finder’s fee once a
contract was secured. She appreciated they needed their cut.  Still she
hadn’t been sure, though. Maybe she should speak to her brother or get some
legal advice first?

 “Is there a problem?” Margot had
asked,
when she’d deliberated over it for a while.

 “Do I need to sign this right
now?”

 
“Not at all.
Take it away if you like.” She’d shrugged but then continued, “Although there’s
no guarantee we’ll still want you if you wait. We have a lot more interviews to
get through.”

At these words she’d thought what the
hell? What was the worst that could happen? She had nothing to lose.

With the agreement signed and stowed
away, the other two had then risen from their chairs. Brenna naturally followed
suit but was left rather flummoxed.  “That’s it?”

 “Yes. We’re absolutely delighted
to have you with us.”

Brenna shook her head. “But what does
that mean?”

“It means you’re officially ours now,
dependent on medical checks. Don’t look so surprised. You don’t have any hidden
scars or birth marks we should know about do you?” Amusement had permeated her
voice.

 Brenna had shaken her head, numb
with astonishment. “So, what happens now?”

“Go home.
Pack.”

“Pack?”

“Yes.  We like our model
prospects to live on site, as stipulated in the agreement. Oh, and make sure to
include some swimwear.” Brenna half recalled seeing some note about location
but hadn’t fully appreciated what it meant.

“Gives us the opportunity to polish
you, refine you and create your portfolio,” she’d expanded. A car will pick you
up in say,” she consulted her watch, “an hour. That give you time enough to
pack and say your goodbyes?”

“No kidding?” Brenna had asked, her
whole body buzzing with nervous excitement.

“No kidding.”

That had been the start of this
amazing adventure. She put a hand to her mouth remembering with glee just how
much satisfaction she’d got in telling her Mum where she could stick it and
just what she thought of her. Happily letting the resulting tirade wash over
her, the words no longer having the power to hurt, she’d quickly packed,
dashing out of the house as soon as she’d heard the car pull up. Her mother had
had it coming for a long time. Wrenching her at 6 years old away from her
brother – the only proper family she’d ever known - just because she could.

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