Deadly Obsession (13 page)

A
my hadn't seen
Grant Wilson after he'd stormed out of the restaurant at the hotel. She had waited for him the next morning to see if he passed through reception but there was no sign. Amy enquired with the concierge as to his whereabouts but was informed that Grant had checked out with the rest of the TV crew at the crack of dawn that morning. He'd obviously headed off for filming.

For a while Amy considered trying to get back onto the set. She needed to speak to Grant, to tell him about the letter. The rendezvous the night before had not gone at all to plan. The only thing that was clear was that she could now add Grant to the ever-lengthening list of people who would lose no sleep at the thought of Riley meeting his maker. Boyhood rivalries had obviously run scarily deep between the two men.

Unable to fathom her next move, Amy had returned to her London flat. She needed to clear her head. It was staring her in the face that she would have to return to the increasingly complex world of Manchester as soon as possible to try and talk to Adam Rich. There was also unfinished business with Genevieve too. Call it a woman's intuition but she was hiding something from Amy.

Sinking into the comfort of her front room sofa, Amy looked at the photo of herself and Riley staring out at her from the opposite wall. It had been taken at the club. His face was a picture of boyish innocence, but now Amy knew differently. How could one man hide so many secrets? Conceal so many lies? She had discovered so many in such a short space of time. If he was capable of that, then how many more were to come?

L
ily had spent
a good few hours in her room smoking weed. She'd needed it. The last few days had been a mind-fuck as far as she was concerned. Seeing Amy again had stirred up all sorts of thoughts about Riley. She'd never loved him, so why had she just spent the last half an hour sobbing pitiful tears into her pillow, which was now covered in a swirly rainbow mess of different make-up hues all smudged together. She'd been upset when Riley had died, of course she had. He was her boss and her lover. Good bosses were hard to find and skilled lovers even harder. She'd never felt sorry for Amy. She'd obviously not satisfied him sexually so it was down to Lily to fill in the gaps. He'd satisfied her everywhere. On the desk in Amy's office, in the DJ booth, even on the fire escape during a busy club night.

Getting up from the bed, Lily walked across to her full-length mirror and stared into it. Her eyes were red and glassy. She rubbed them, hoping to make the redness disappear. It made them worse.

She felt tired, really tired and contemplated going to bed. It was only early evening but she could feel her eyes dragging against her face, heavy and craving slumber. Lily was due to head out. She had supplies to collect and places to deal at. But that could wait. She needed to be alone with her thoughts about Riley. About a dead man. A dead man she loved. Or maybe she didn't. Maybe he was alive. And maybe he wasn't. Yes, no, yes, no ... Lily broke out into hysterical laughter and shouted across the room, not caring who heard, ‘I'm in love with a dead man!' Her mind felt clouded and mixed. Shaken like a mental snow globe. Her thoughts blended by the weed.

Her bedroom door opened and Adam walked in. The room stank of drugs, a fact not lost on him. His face was ominous like thunder. ‘Jesus wept, Lily, what the hell are you screaming about? You're in love with which dead man?'

Lily's mind raced. She was in love with Riley. And didn't little girls always tell their daddies about their crushes? It was time to share. ‘I'm in love with Riley Hart. I loved him and he loved me too. At least that's what he said before he dumped me.'

‘Dumped you, what are you talking about, you stupid girl? It's the drugs talking. Why do you smoke that stuff?' Adam was more than incensed.

‘I was having an affair with him, or at least I was until he told me to fuck off. He didn't want me anymore, Daddy. He broke my heart.'

The crestfallen look on Adam's face told even a drug-addled Lily that her admission had just broken her father's too.

I
f there was
one condition that Amy had permanently suffered over the last six months it was a broken heart. The loss of both her husband and her best friend would have been enough to crush even the strongest of hearts and there were times when Amy herself doubted how she'd found the inner strength to deal with it all. She liked to think it was the guidance of her guardian angel parents looking down on her from above. At least she'd always been able to rely on them. They had never let her down.

Picking up their photo from a small table alongside the sofa, Amy clutched it to her chest. If she held them close to her heart she could pretend that they could still hear its beating. To know that she had survived everything that life had hurled at her. It gave her comfort. It gave her a new burst of strength to carry on fighting. Even though she was so tired. More tired than she had ever been ...

Still clutching the photo to her chest, Amy drifted off into a deep sleep ...

She was awoken by a loud rap at her front door. She'd been immersed in a vivid dream about her and Laura – the pair of them dancing wildly underneath the stars. It had been an idyllic and beautiful image, transporting her away from the harsh reality of life. And it had obviously been a much-needed rest. It was almost dark around her and Amy guessed that she had been asleep for a while. Placing the photo of her parents back on the table Amy reached for the clock – it read 7.24pm. She had been asleep for the best part of five hours. The knock at the door sounded again.

‘I'm coming. Hang on a moment.' Amy checked her reflection in the mirror and ran her hands through her hair to make herself feel a little more presentable. She still felt she looked like shit.

Running to the door she reached down to pick up a pile of mail that was lying on the front door mat. Five or six envelopes, mostly junk mail. Clutching them in her hand she opened the door. She was greeted by a body, the face of which was hidden behind a mass of flowers. The flowers moved to one side revealing the smiling face of Grant Wilson.

‘I think I owe you a massive apology, don't you?' he offered. ‘Can I come in? I hope you don't mind but I grabbed your address from the hotel. You left it to secure the room. I had to do some serious flirting to persuade the woman behind Reception to give it to me but she was a fan of the show so to be honest it was pretty easy. An autograph and a quick selfie on her iPhone and she was happy. I hope you don't mind. '

Astounded, Amy opened the door wide to let him in. He stretched out his arms to give her the flowers. ‘I thought this was the least I could do after the utter idiot I made of myself last night.'

‘Um ... thanks. I'll just stick them in some water. As Amy walked to the kitchen she threw the pile of mail onto the work surface. It fanned out before her.

In the space of less than a second, she spotted the envelope hidden among the mail, recognised the handwriting and felt her legs buckle underneath her, sending the bouquet crashing to the floor.

It was from Riley.

‘
I
might be used
to women falling at my feet but not normally with quite such gusto.'

Grant attempted a laugh as he handed Amy a glass of brandy. It shook in her trembling hand as she tried to control her nerves. ‘I don't normally make a habit of hitting the deck in front of strange men.'

‘How are you feeling? That should help,' he said, as Amy started to sip at the drink. ‘I still can't believe what you've told me. You really think Riley might be alive?' The evidence at the club that night seemed pretty fucking conclusive to me. You saw Riley. His face had been blown to bits ...' Grant stopped, unsure how to continue, worried his words were coming across as heartless.

‘That's the whole point, I can't be sure now. He was unrecognisable, I was out of my mind with panic and I just assumed ... it looked like him. I can see it now ...' Amy shuddered at the thought obviously running through her brain and took a heftier slug of the brandy. ‘But the more I think about it, the more blurred it all becomes. I was certain about things until that letter, now nothing makes sense anymore.'

Amy had spent the last half an hour telling Grant about the letter. She didn't know whether spilling the beans to him was a wise move but she needed to share her thoughts with someone and Grant seemed to be her best option. His face had drained of colour when Amy told him that he was one of the ‘suspects' listed in Riley's letter. His first reaction had been to tell Amy to go to the police, despite what Riley had requested. She had refused point blank. ‘That is not what Riley wanted,' she stated. Wherever the letter had come from, if there was a chance that Riley was alive then Amy had to find out the truth for herself. Finding him was first and foremost in her mind.

‘So, what are you going to do about
that
?' asked Grant, indicating the still unopened letter that lay ominously on the coffee table in front of Amy. ‘Are you sure it's from him?'

‘It's his writing. I know it is,' she said, staring at the handwritten name and address on the front. ‘I have enough cards and love letters from Riley to recognise it. I'm just not sure if I can cope with what might be in there.'

Grant seated himself alongside Amy and took her hand in his. It was a comforting gesture, almost intimate, and Amy was glad to have him there. If she had been on her own she was sure she would have been a gibbering wreck. He squeezed her hand and smiled at her. She reciprocated without thinking, letting his hand stay there.

‘If you want me to stay with you while you open it then I'm more than happy to ... I am a doctor after all, even if it is a pretend one,' he offered, allowing a slight cheeky grin to paint his face.

Amy heard herself laugh. It was the first time she could remember doing so in months. She drained the brandy from the glass, placed it on the table and picked up the letter. ‘Okay, here goes ...' She began to tear at the envelope ...

W
hen Adam Rich
was angry there was only one person he would call. When he was horny he would call the same person. When his angriness and his horniness collided then that one person knew that she would have to be primed to embark on a sexually interesting if somewhat body bruising adventure. But thankfully it would also be a financially lucrative one. That person was, of course, Dolly Townsend.

Dolly could tell from the tone of his voice when he'd summoned her that he was majorly narked about something. ‘I need you now, get over here,' he'd barked. ‘And bring your toys.'

She'd seen him angry on countless occasions over the years she'd been ‘employed' by him, but there was something about his current state that definitely suggested a red mist unlike ones she'd encountered before. And when he demanded the toys then Dolly knew that Adam needed to offload some rage. And she would definitely be on the receiving end. But as long as she was on the receiving end of a tidy wad of notes as well then a little pain was worth a lot of gain.

Dolly was thinking of the money as she bit down on the silicone ball wedged in between her teeth. It was one of the many 'toys' she possessed. Nearly two decades of satisfying every kind of sexual kink had taught her to always be prepared. And if that meant spending some of her hard-earned cash on some tricks for her trade then so be it. The ball was attached by a thick leather strap on either side which wrapped itself right around her head. Dolly winced at the slight discomfort as the hard strap and metal buckles fixed to the ball rubbed against the soft skin on her cheeks. Unable to speak, she tried to swallow slightly to stop her mouth from drying out. It was not a sensation she overly enjoyed but when Adam wanted to play master to her slave then it was a role she would readily undertake if it meant being able to pay a few extra bills and purchase a new outfit or two.

There was no way she could attempt to remove the gag as her wrists and ankles were also housed in restraints, the Velcro cuffs held tightly, their connecting straps stretched and tied securely to the corners of the four poster bed she was recumbent across. It was the usual bed, the usual hotel room, the usual knowing glances from the Reception staff as she had arrived to meet Adam. When Adam wanted to ‘role play' then he would always choose to play away from home. He would never run the risk of one of his more vigorous and vocal sexual sessions being interrupted by a nosy daughter or, heaven forbid, the diva Caitlyn herself. No, Adam would always book the same place, a hotel where nobody would dare to interrupt or question him.

Dolly was unable to move her head more than a few inches due to the gag but she could just see Adam's bald dome located between her spread-eagled legs. She flinched as she felt the rough stubble of his chin grate against her pussy lips. It was one of his favourite tricks. He would rub against it, watching her thrash around in discomfort before burying his face in her mound, allowing his tongue to explore deeply inside her, grazing her fleshy walls to soreness before lifting his head triumphantly to grin at her, his face streaked with her wetness. Dolly actually enjoyed the sensation more than she revealed to Adam. After years of sexual experimentation, there wasn't much she hadn't succumbed to or enjoyed within the walls of a client's bedroom. She'd often joked to herself that she could write a book on pleasing men.

Adam reached up and placed his hands on her breasts, kneading them as he buried his head once more between her thighs. His position – leaning forward, arms outstretched, legs bent beneath his body as he feasted between her thighs – gave the impression he was worshipping some unknown deity. A goddess of sexual gratification. In Dolly's mind, that goddess was her. Despite her physical restrictions she still felt in control. She would always agree a 'stop-signal' with Adam before their sessions, even if it amounted to no more than the flick of a finger or the somewhat stifled cry. She knew he respected her, but hell, hadn't she earned it?

She had never seen Adam so transfixed. He had been ‘in the zone' from the moment she had arrived. His orders to her were clipped and brusque. Telling her where to lie, what to wear, to say nothing. He had gagged her straight away and tied her limbs. It was then that Dolly had realised that this was to be one of those sessions that only occurred once in a while. Adam was angry, preoccupied and tense. He needed pleasing and Dolly was the sexual slave to do so. When Adam was in this kind of mood, the last thing he would want was chit-chat or pleasantries.

Having satisfied his oral banquet of her pussy Adam reached across the bed and rooted through the toys Dolly had bought with her. A row of Venus Balls, a dildo the thickness of a coke can and the length of two and an anal probe. His erect penis bounced in front of him as he did so. He pulled them all out and lay them all on the bed beside him. Dolly knew that he was laying out his choices like a customer browsing a restaurant menu. And given Adam's mood she guessed that there could well be a starter, a main course and a dessert to deal with. And that meant a hefty pay out at the end of it. The idea made her smile inwardly, a vision of a trip to House Of Fraser already flashing through her thoughts.

More money to build a new life with, maybe? Dolly's mind continued to drift, contemplating the things she'd like to buy as Adam picked up the first of the toys and brought it towards her skin. Enough for a decent holiday or a car ...?

All thoughts of shift dresses, sandy beaches and leather interiors were suddenly erased as Adam stopped with the toy he was holding, a quizzical look spreading over his face.

It was clear to Dolly that he wanted something else. Adam moved off the bed and walked to the other side of the hotel room. Dolly's gaze followed him as much as the gag and the restraints would allow.
What was he up to?
Usually her toys were sufficient.

He opened a small leather case he had with him and delved into it, pulling out a small black tube of meshed material no longer than his finger. The end of it appeared to glisten in the half light of the hotel bedroom. At first Dolly was unsure what is was, doubtless some new toy Adam wanted to try, but it was unlike anything she'd ever seen before and Dolly thought that she had seen everything fetish there was. It was only when he presented it in front of her that she was able to see exactly how it was formed.

‘This is my new toy, Dolly. You're going to love it. It's my finger pin wheel.' Dolly watched uncomfortably as Adam slipped the mesh tube over his finger. The reason for the glistening became apparent. At one end of the sleeve was a small movable wheel of sharp metallic spikes. Tiny pin-prick needles which Adam rotated with his finger. Adam's cock twitched as he did so, the sensation obviously a turn on to himself as he felt the spikes against his skin.

He moved the wheel down and rolled it, gently at first, across her stomach. The sensation, a sweet cocktail of sharp pain and euphoric pleasure, caused Dolly to arch her back. The melange of sensations was better than Dolly had expected. She felt a ripple of desire wash through her pussy as Adam ran the wheel across her skin.

He moved the finger across her breasts, circling her nipples with the wheel. Adam was lost, deep in the sensuality of the situation, marvelling at the tiny red dots that formed across Dolly's skin. Not enough to break the flesh, he had no desire to do that, but he was pleased that his new toy appeared to have struck that beautiful fine line between inflicting harm and heightening pleasure. Dolly had experienced nothing like it before. The stabs against her skin were minute and rapid, one ending and the next beginning before her brain allowed her to rationalise just how it felt. All she knew was that it felt intoxicating. She longed for more.

Adam ran the wheel down her body, taking in every curve he could as he did so. The expectation of what was to come was ripe inside Dolly's mind. She knew where the wheel was heading. How would it feel? If her excitement so far was any indication, then she couldn't wait to find out.

Adam looped the wheel around Dolly's navel and started its descent towards the neat bush between Dolly's legs. The pricking felt exquisite against her skin.

If it hadn't been for the gag in her mouth, Dolly was sure that the cocktail of screaming pleasure and pain she attempted to release as Adam parted her pussy lips and rolled the wheel across the tender pink flesh he revealed there, would have been heard not just in the adjacent hotel room but also in the adjacent county.

A
my couldn't make
a sound as she stared at the words on the page of the letter. Why would Riley write to her again? Surely it wouldn't achieve anything but to force her mind to spiral off into yet another tempest of confusion.

Amy read the words laid out in front of her. There weren't many and they were brief and to the point, the handwriting frenzied and somewhat scratchy on the page.

‘Dear Amy. You're doing so well. Sorry for everything you've found out so far. Keep at it, as that's the only way we stand any hope of being together. You know that's what I want deep down. I hope you do too. So sorry again. Sorry a million times. I long to be with you. When you were there at Dirty Cash I wanted to reach out. I had to stop myself from running to you when that car nearly hit you near Eruption. It was more than I could bear. Stay strong. Stay safe. Stay mine. Riley x'

Amy could feel herself starting to shake again as she read the words for a second time and then a third. Riley knew where she'd been, he'd seen what had happened to her. He must be following her. He must be close. He'd been there when Lily had rescued her, he'd seen Amy head to the casino to see Tommy. He could be outside now for all she knew, watching her every move. He may have seen Grant arrive at her flat. What would he think? And why, if he was so close to her, did he not make contact? Use a mobile, email or a private app? There were so many choices but none were forthcoming.

Amy wasn't sure what any of it meant or how she felt about it. Confusion clouded her brain.
How could somebody who had once been so close now feel so far away?
She turned to face Grant who was sitting silently alongside her. It was only then that she realised that she was holding his hand again.