Glass Houses (27 page)

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Authors: Stella Cameron

Tags: #Police, #Photography, #General, #Romance, #Suspense, #NYC, #Erotica, #Fiction

BOOK: Glass Houses
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Eighteen

 

 

I
mprov theater was a great outlet for people who had difficulty communicating on a personal level. They learned to act out a scenario with little or no warning. A person could pretend they were someone else. That made it easier, distanced you. The classes Aiden had taken years ago also came in real handy when he needed an Oscar-winning performance to save his skin.

Tonight, putting on a convincing impersonation of an unconscious man had at least postponed the beating he knew Ryan and Fats would have enjoyed giving him. If things didn’t start looking up, there would be another opportunity for the gruesome duo to work him over.

“Watch him,” Ryan said. “I still think the cuffs should be behind him.”

“Oh, no such thing,” the woman said. She was obviously from England. “You’ve already put those things on his ankles, too. Where’s he going to go? Anyway, he’s been unconscious so long, it’s scary. Maybe he won’t ever wake up. He could have a seizure or something after you hitting him on the head like that. With his arms behind him, he’d probably break them. Then where would we be? You’ve already said you want to
keep him in one piece until you don’t need him anymore. Look at him lying there, poor man. White as the sheets. Does he look like someone who could do us any harm?”

“Fucking bleeding-hearts society,” Ryan muttered. “It’s a good thing I recognized him through the Halloween getup. He’s never gotten over his stint in narcotics. Thinks he’s still undercover as a punk. Okay, leave the cuffs in front. You keep your eyes on him, Fats. Anything happens to him before I’m ready, and you’re dead. Understand?”

“I understand,”
Fats said with his habit of letting his dislike show through a coat of spurious, insincere respect. “You don’t need to hang around here. Go lose that canine.”

“When I need you to give the orders, I’ll let you know.” Ryan was at his foul-tempered best. “Damn dog. I got hold of him by the collar while you were dragging Flynn out. Got him from behind. Look at my hands. That dog pulled so hard, his friggin’ collar took chunks out of my fingers. And my wrists. This is from the glass when I was reaching through from the front to grab him.”

“Sorry, Ryan,” Fats said. “We gotta think of a way to get Flynn to lead us to the woman. It’s turned out to be a good thing he met her and they took off.”

A pause before Ryan replied suggested Fats had hit an unpopular topic. “Olivia hooked up with Flynn. Fucking
,
bl
eedin’ amazing. How could I know the bastard would snoop around the way he did? As soon as I sensed something wrong, I went after her. I was too late. Again, nothing I could do about it. But everything’s gonna be fine. He’s gonna die. She’s gonna die. I’m gonna get what I want—everything. You want to keep on talking about this?

Fats swallowed so loudly, it sounded as if he’d cracked something. He said, “Nah.”

“Good. You’d better start praying those two clowns we’re stuck with remember to turn on the cell phone,” Ryan said.

Damn, but I hate dealing with civilian morons. And remember, you do not mention me to them. No reason to let them think
I’m close enough for them to use me as leverage to get what they want.”

Fats said, “What exactly do they want from you?” so offhandedly that Aiden came close to grinning. He risked slitting his eyes enough to see through his lashes.

“Just do as I tell you,” Ryan said. “Mess up, and you’ll go where I send the dog. I’d have nothing to lose anymore.”

Ryan took the keys to the truck, holstered his gun, and let himself out of the overly warm room. Aiden had seen that the place was called Sleep In Peace, but didn’t know where it was. He thought the name of the motel could turn out to be too appropriate.

All he could do for Boss was send good thoughts in his direction. Ryan might try to let the dog go, but if Boss made it too difficult, he’d buy himself a bullet.

Damn, his head ached. How could he have been so careless as to leave his flank vulnerable? He wondered where Olivia was. It would be just like her to try to find him, but she wouldn’t go far, particularly since she was likely to get hopelessly lost. He didn’t like thinking about her out there like that. She led with her heart—a bad idea in most situations. They’d met at the wrong time, in the wrong circumstances. Somewhere up there someone was laughing and thinking what Aiden already knew: he and Olivia had come together because he’d meddled in somebody else’s business, but he wouldn’t have met her at all otherwise.

“You think we ought to cuff him to the bed, too?” the woman, Kitty, said. “Ryan would be pleased we cared enough to do it, and we wouldn’t have to watch quite so closely. After all, no play makes boys and girls dull, and we’re not dull types, are we, Fats?”

Aiden swallowed distaste at Kitty’s suggestive tone. He’d assumed she was with Ryan exclusively. Evidently the lady liked to spread herself around.

“Where’s he going to go anyway?” Fats said in a voice that sounded thickened. “We cuff him to something and he’s
more likely to come to while we’re doing it and make a nuisance of himself.”

“And that would certainly be a shame,” she said. Aiden felt her breath on his face. The pressure of her lips on his and the sensation she caused when the tip of her tongue slid into his m
outh infuriated him. He’d have l
iked to bite that tongue and take the consequences. Only the thought of Olivia, alone somewhere out there, stopped him.

“Now this man’s got a mouth,” Kitty said. “And a body. Whoa, what a body.” She demonstrated what she thought of that body by running her hands all over him. Lying still on a bed had never taken such willpower.

Don’t you love tattoos on the kind of
muscles he’s got in his arms?”

Aiden heard a slap, followed by a yelp from Kitty. “What do you think you’re doing? Who do you think you’re pushing around? I don’t let men hit me, Fats. If that husband of mine does show up, he’ll tell you it’s not a g
ood idea to underestimate
me.

“I don’t give a shit about Rupert Fish,” Fats said. “Ryan says he’s a little asshole. How come you married a man like that?”

“I guess it’s because I’ve got a thing for little assholes, Fats.”

Aiden wanted to laugh. He was also struggling with the idea that Kitty was Mrs. Rupert Fish.

“You led me on, and I want what you promised,” Fats said, and if a pout was something you could hear, Aiden heard this one. “I don’t want you threatening me with your husband, and I don’t want to listen to you talkin’ nice to unconscious jerks.”

“You’re jealous,” she said, all coy. “I think that’s really lovely. I’m just one of those artsy types who appreciate beautiful people, and he’s beautiful. It’s only academic. He’s probably no good in bed.”

This was no time for Aiden to consider defending his male pride.

“I'm damn good in bed,

Fats said. “I know how to give a woman what she wants.”

“How long do you think Ryan will be gone?”


Maybe an hour. We can lock the door and put the chain on.” Aiden heard Fats slip on the chain. “There. That way if he does come back at an inconvenient moment, we’ll have time to recover.”

“Recover from what?” Little Miss Innocence asked.

“Take your clothes off,” Fats said. “Not too fast.”

“Ooh, I do love masterful men. Why should I undress for you?”

“Because you want to. You got off in that truck with all your clothes on and Ryan sitting on the other side of you. I don’t want anything between you and me but skin. And you owe me, so start paying back.”

Aiden didn’t want to listen to this, but his only hope of escape was tied to the lovebirds getting it on.

“What about him?” Kitty said, and Aiden didn’t need a map to figure out she was talking about him. “I don’t want him watching.”

“He’s not watchin’ anything,” Fats said. “C’mon, Kitty. I want you, baby. Come here. Come on, sweet thing. I’m going to do something really special for you.”

Throwing up now might be really inconvenient, Aiden thought.

“Okay,” Kitty said. “You wear a girl down.”

Aiden heard the sounds of passion-on-demand. Heavy breathing, smacking lips, forced keening from Kitty’s throat. Fabric rubbing together. He risked opening his eyes a crack again but immediately shut them. Yep, he still had good ears.

“Oh, baby,” Fats groaned. “These are really something. Did they have help, or did you grow them li
ke this all on your lonesome?”

The next hefty slap needed no imagination.

“I don’t have to take that from anyone,” Kitty squeaked. “The nerve. Take a real good look and tell me if you see anything you don’t like.”

Fats was sucking air through his teeth. “You don’t have to get violent. You know I don’t see anything I don’t like. Oh, man, no wonder Ryan brought you back to the States with him. He wasn’t about to leave these behind.”

As a mere mortal, Aiden struggled with an urge to check out these wonders. He’d always been a man of highly developed self-control.

Something came loudly unsnapped and unzipped.

Kitty said, “Oh, that feels so good. Oh, yes, yes.”

“Don’t hold yourself back,” Fats said, “I’m all yours too, sweet thing. Let me make things easier for you.”

More unsnapping and unzipping followed.

“Oh, Fats,” Kitty moaned. “Oh,
my.”

Fats laughed, “That’s what women always say. Surprised, huh? You didn’t expect this, did you?”

“Get back to what you were doing, dammit,” Kitty said. “Leaving a woman on the edge doesn’t make her give a damn
what you’ve got in your pants.”

Aiden longed to put a pillow over his head. That way, if he did make a mistake and laugh out loud, he'd have a chance of not being heard.

“You asked for it,” Fats said. “You’ve got it.”

A series of female yelps followed, punctuated by shuddering wails of ecstasy. “Oh,” Kitty said in only seconds. “Oh, yes. Oh, yesss. Oh, oh, oh. Don’t stop. Faster. Harder. Yes, yes, yes.” Her voice rose to a thin shriek before it fell away into sobbing gasps.

“My turn,” said Fats, Mr. Smooth, Lemon. “You’ve got the best tits, Kitty. Sheesh, what muscle tone. They don’t even jiggle
.

“You made me sore,” Kitty said. “You’re too rough.”

“And you love it.” Fats’s voice changed and Aiden knew he was hearing a man who would do whatever it took to get what he wanted now. “Kneel down.”

“Like hell,” Kitty said.

“Do you like it when a man gets really rough?”

“Hit me again, and
I’l
l tell Ryan you tried to rape me.”

“Real soon you’ll be able to say I did rape you.”

Kitty’s giggle sickened Aiden.

Not here,” she said. “Not with him on the bed. Come on.”

Aiden felt them pass him on the way to the bathroom. Their voices became more muted. Apparently modesty had kicked in, and they’d pushed the door all but shut.

This would be the only chance he got, and this one was like a ticking bomb. Aiden watched the bathroom door. The action on the other side slammed the door all the way shut. If he didn’t know otherwise, he’d think a platoon of Rangers was practicing maneuvers in there.

He swung his feet from the bed and scooted to sit on the edge. He doubted he could stand up without falling down. A lot of older motels had old-fashioned phones with dials. Aiden thanked his good fortune that the one on the bedside table was Touch-Tone.

His hands were numb. The cuffs had cut his wrists. To get to the phone, he’d have to stand up.

“Fatsy! Fatsy!”

You go to it, Fatsy.

Aiden put weight on his legs and wanted to yell at the pain in his ankles where the second set of cuffs ground into bone.

“We gotta be quick,” Fats said loudly. “He’ll get back. If he finds us like this, he’ll kill us.”

Don’t hurry.
Aiden managed to shuffle a few inches and bring himself near enough to bend forward and rest his forearms on the table. He felt faint.

“Sit on the loo,” Kitty said. “Oh, yes, I like playing horsey.”

Unbelievable, Aiden decided, but as long as they kept on having fun, regardless of the weird pictures they conjured in his mind, he was still alive and still had hope.

He got the receiver from the cradle and slid it into his left hand. Punching in numbers made sure he bled freely from his wrists.

Kitty screamed. “We’ve broken it. Fatsy, it’s come off!”

Aiden didn’t want to consider what they’d broken off. One
by one he depressed his own cell-phone numbers. Ringing started, and he dropped his face into his right hand, pressing the receiver to his left ear.

Three rings.
Please answer me, Olivia.
All he wanted to do was give her something she could pass along to Vanni. The name of this place would be better than nothing.

Four rings.

Answer me, Olivia.

“The party you’re trying to reach is unavailable. At the tone, please leave a message.”

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