Sweet Seduction Sacrifice (21 page)

I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath in.

"I'm OK," I said with conviction.

"The more you say that, the less likely I'm to believe a word," Wayne commented quietly, almost as though to himself. Then he smiled, deciding it would seem, to humour me. "How about you make me and Edward a couple of Vanilla Lattes to go. I'm on a mission the expand that man's horizons."

"Well," I answered, a hint of sarcasm coming back into my tone at last, "if it's horizons you want to expand, steer clear of vanilla, he's already tried that." I gave his lilly white skin a deliberate sweep of my eyes. "How about a Chocolate Dalmatian?"

"Now that sounds interesting, sweetie. Set me up."

I slipped in behind the counter and gave Jane a brief hug, brushing off her and Karla's concerned looks at my face, but feeling more and more myself as the world returned to a semi-normal state. Jane's been my weekend manager since I opened, even in the days I worked almost 24/7 it seemed. She's trustworthy, dedicated and a coffee addict. Chocolate Dalmatians made it onto our espresso menu because of her. She's also a stunner. Short spiky brown hair in an elf-like cut, makes her petite facial features stand out, drawing the eye to her cupids bow lips and perky upturned nose. She wears the Sweet Seduction uniform, but always adds a twist. Today it was several strings of beads in a multitude of colours around her neck, all clattering as she moved and swayed to the music.

After sending her on a much needed break, I slipped in beside Karla and started on Wayne's drinks. Our espresso machine is a beast, big enough for two people to operate side by side without issue. Karla was singing the last lines of
Welcome to the Jungle
as I rubbed shoulders in greeting.

"Howzit?" she sang between song lyrics. "Wondered if you'd turn up today."

Karla's been with me for just on twelve months. She's studying at Auckland University during the week and spends her weekends in the shop earning enough to pay her tuition fees - and probably her social habits as well, I don't ask. She's what I'd call a typical laid back student. I often wondered why she didn't go to Otago, down south - she had that Scarfie look to her. Grunge dress style, blonde dreadlocks tied back in multi coloured intertwined strands, a stud in her nose and eyebrow, and about six in one ear. She wore the uniform too, but only under duress.

"Thought I'd catch up on some work," I replied before the next song, Dexy's Midnight Runners'
Come On Eileen
really got going. Karla nodded to the music, but it could have been a nod of acknowledgement as well. It was hard to tell.

"Brett came in a little while ago," she said as she pushed a take-away cup across the bench and then proceeded to yell at the top of her lungs, "Skinny Hazelnut Latte to go!"

I just about dropped the cup I was wedging under the portafilter nozzle. He'd been here. I was right. If the place was being watched, he would have been picked up as he came in. It also meant he expected me to show. I flicked a glance at the door half expecting to see him saunter in, but there was just a group of young teenagers, laden down with designer shopping bags.

"Did he say anything?" I asked, leaning over so I didn't have to shout.

"Nah, just swept his gaze over the joint and then shot out the door as though his butt was on fire."

Hmm, OK he was playing it safe. I wasn't here, he didn't stick around. But that didn't mean he wasn't watching from outside and already knew I had turned up. My palms began to sweat with anticipation and for the first time that day I wondered if I had made a mistake. If I shouldn't have been trying to do this alone. To fix my problem by myself. And then I cursed inwardly, told myself to harden the fuck up, and finished off the Chocolate Dalmatians to hand over to Wayne.

"Hey, Wayno!" Karla shouted above
Come On Eileen's
chorus.

"Hey, Karla baby," Wayne replied with his usual come back, reaching for the cups I had just lidded. "Behaving yourself, sweetie?"

"Never. You?" she replied with a bang of her portafilter.

"What would be the fun in that?"

Normally their banter would make me smile, but my stomach had started churning with the prospect of facing Brett again. Of doing what I needed to do to end this once and for all. I knew I had made the right decision, that I really had no choice or all would be lost, but for some reason I felt a chill of unease seep into my bones. As though my body was trying to tell me something my brain hadn't cottoned on to yet.

I gave Wayne a kiss on the cheek, repeated that I was OK when he frowned at my face, and hustled him out the door. He didn't need to see me selling my soul to the devil. For now I'd minimise the fallout if I could, which was why it had to be today, on the weekend, when Jane and Karla were here. I loved them both, but I wasn't as close to them as I was to Kelly, or even Lucas for that matter. Lucas would keep mum, he rarely offers unsolicited advice, but Kelly would interfere. She'd proven she could by phoning my brother and getting him involved. Which was the second reason why it had to be today. Jason would be on the streets tonight, along with ASI and the police no doubt, because that would be when they would think finding Brett had the greatest chance. I had to get to Brett before they did, before they had a chance to stuff things up and lose me my dream.

Not to mention I needed to fix this myself, if I was ever to be a bona fide adult and stand on my own two feet.

Half an hour later and still no sign of Brett. I'd given Karla a brief break as well and now found myself simply sorting LPs and CDs out the back, with my eye on the front of the shop and ears open for any sign of my loser ex-boyfriend. The longer it took for him to show, the more uptight I became. Every time the door jangled as it opened, my chest would squeeze and my heart would leap up into my throat. It was an instant reaction which took several minutes to subside. If I kept this up for the rest of the day I'd be a nervous wreck by four, when the shop closed.

Willing myself to relax, which was not entirely successful, but I was giving it my best shot, the door clanged open an hour after I had arrived. I felt the tension in the air change immediately and flicked my gaze up to see who had arrived. The door was closed again and no one stood out as having just entered the store. I shrugged, grateful my heart hadn't leapt into my throat that time, my mental exercises finally paying off and returned my attention to the 'R' section of CDs I was alphabetising. REM, Radio Flyer, Rage Against the Machine, Bonnie Raitt, Jimmy Ray - we have an eclectic mix and they're all kind of grouped together, makes for an interesting browse every time - and had finally made it to The Red Hot Chilli Peppers when I felt a heat at my back. No sound, no flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye - and he would have had to approach on an angle that announced his presence, so how I didn't see a flicker is beyond me - just a heat down my back and the sure knowledge that I was no longer alone in the dungeon.

I swung around, Red Hot Chilli Peppers out and ready to do damage and met the amused chocolate brown eyes of Ben Tamati - ASI bodyguard and resident bad-ass, bad boy, hottie.

He plucked the CD out of my hand and gave it a quick perusal. "Like me some Chillies," he said in a drawl, then reached past me and placed it in the exact spot that it needed to go, between Red Flag and Red Radio Flyer. He pulled back and looked at me, amusement all gone from those incredibly tasty looking eyes. My mouth was obviously open in shock, because he said, "Hello, Princess. Were you expectin' someone else?"

I shook my head, forcing my mouth to close and trying to effect a casual stance. His eyes grazed over my body. I say grazed, because he took his sweet time coming back up to my face. I refused to cross my arms over my chest in defence, I was doing nothing wrong and I was not going to show it.

"Dom wants you back," he stated, as if it was obvious and quite an acceptable request.

"I'm working," I shot back, tossing my hair over my shoulder. Ben's gaze came up and watched the movement with fascination.

"Not a good move, Princess," he replied, still eyeing my hair.

I bristled. "It's my shop, I can be here if I want to." God that sounded mature.

He huffed a laugh out and crossed his arms. "Brett Elliott was spotted here this morning." Oh hell, they knew and more alarmingly, they'd been watching the shop. "The only reason Nick allowed you to stay here so long, was because we were on his tail and knew he was nowhere near here when you arrived. But now Dominic is getting antsy, he wants you back home and safe. You've had your moment to spread your wings, it's time to fly home, Princess, and be a good girl."

He did
not
just tell me to
be a good girl
.

"Thanks, but I'm fine," I said returning to my CDs.

"I will carry you out of here if you resist," he said calmly over my shoulder making me swing back round to glare at him accusingly - and probably a little sceptically.

"Like hell!"

"No skin off my nose, Princess. Been a while since I wrapped my arms around one as fine as you, no sweat to me either way. Just sayin'."

"You're crazy," I declared.

"Just doin' my job," he shot back.

"Which is to manhandle me and kidnap me from my store."

"Ain't kidnappin' if it's for your own good."

"That's a crock of shit and you know it. Whose to say your idea of my good is the right one."

"Dominic and Nicholas Anscombe, that's who."

"And who the hell are they to me!" My voice had risen significantly, luckily - or not - Blondie's
Call Me
was covering our little argument well.

"Nick has made you his business, and you're Dominic's woman. Not much else to say to that."

"I am not Dominic's woman," I said through gritted teeth.

"Ah, yeah, you are."

"Am not!" This was getting worse, I was now a kindergartener.

"Listen, Princess. Elliott slipped the net, he may be mental enough to back track to here." This was good news, I needed to speak to him to sort this all out once and for all, but getting this overzealous bodyguard extraodinaire off my back was going to be tricky. "Times up, gotta get you somewhere safe."

"I don't want to go," I said, hoping outright refusal would do the trick, but deep down knowing I'd have be a little more clever than that.

"Irrelevant. Now are you gonna walk out under your own steam, or do I carry ya?"

"You have got to be kidding," I muttered. Then sighed, dramatically for effect. "Let me go get my bag."

I started walking towards the office out back where I'd stashed my handbag, but the heat behind me didn't dissipate.

"You can stay here," I remarked over my shoulder.

"Not in this lifetime, Princess." Shit, I needed to get away from him. I needed to think of a plan B. I didn't have a plan B. Plan A was thrown together whilst not in full control of my faculties and under an enormous amount of stress. The situation had escalated and now hopes of thinking up a plan B were practically non-existent.

"Well, I gotta pee before we go," I tried.

"The more you throw at me the more determined I am to sling you over my shoulder and haul your fine arse out of this shop. Capiche?"

I glared at him.

"Just sayin'. You got a fine arse." He smirked as his eyes swept down to my rear. I think I growled as my teeth ground together.

I grabbed my handbag in the mother of all hissy fits and stomped out towards the front of shop. Ben's smirk never left his face. By the time we got out the doors I was fuming. Damn Dominic Anscombe and his Neanderthal tendencies and damn his brother and his bunch of hot guy bodyguards. And shit damn Brett for getting me into this mess. For once I'd have liked to have had my plan go according to... well, plan. But between all the men in my life I was outnumbered, out gunned, out manoeuvred and sure as hell out testosteroned.

At least I wasn't being hauled out over Ben's shoulders, that would have taken the proverbial cake.

I came to a halt on the footpath waiting for Ben to indicate where his car was parked, but before I got a breath out to complain - or whine, I was getting good at that - his gun was in his hand, his body was shielding mine and the sound of gunshots rang out in the air.

I've never been in a gun fight before, I never want to be again. The sound was so loud it was deafening. Not just a blast or a sharp retort in the air, but a roar of noise that seemed endless. One loud clap, then another and another, but not singularly, they overlapped, they crowded each other in my ears, they slammed against my eardrums and threatened to make me go deaf.

I froze. I'm not sure if it was the surprise, the danger, or the noise. All of it maybe, but it was enough to make me freeze. I didn't even duck or shield my head. I just became stone on the footpath in the middle of the O.K. Corral. The glass shattering at my back finally made me move. I jumped about a foot off the pavement and screamed. Then realised it was
my
shop they were shattering, so I started yelling obscenities at the top of my lungs.

Not that anyone could hear me over the noise of gunfire and breaking windows and other people's screams. But I tried to get my decidedly angry word across, all the while trying to determine who was shooting at my dream.