Page 5 of His to Keep
His palm rested on her shoulder. “Straight to the end of the hall. Let’s go.”
She padded over the chequered floor, her gaze drawn to every detail. She navigated the long hallway with his finger prodding her in the back repeatedly, pushing her forward like cattle.
The space smelt stale and musty, like it hadn’t been aired in days. She hesitated at a single framed picture of Carl and a younger woman with golden, shoulder-length hair.
“Where is she?” Lana dared to ask as they reached the kitchen.
His body tensed. “She said I had an addiction to sex with strangers and left me…the bitch,” he said sharply. “Can you believe she moved in with a guy from Belfast. She chose a dick like him, over me!” He blew a puff of air from his nostrils and his hands balled. “Let’s not talk about Lorraine. I have you now, Lana.”
She chose to stay silent as he escorted her through the large kitchen with walnut units and sombre putty coloured walls. A circular glass table sat beneath a low hung crystal chandelier and the surrounding chocolate velvet chairs looked like they had never been sat on.
Several vases filled with dead flowers were dotted around the eerie space.
Leading her out the back door, they crossed a paved yard to the standalone garage. True to his word, it was moderately equipped with a screened toilet and sink.
Along the back wall sat a long, well-used sofa that could double as a bed. Under the steel-framed window were several drawers, neatly labelled for garden implements.
Carl shoved Lana down onto a shaggy brown rug, and she fell to her knees. With her arms still tied behind her back, her landing was awkward, but she managed not to topple over. As she knelt on the floor, she scoured the room for a way to escape.
Crouching down on his hunkers in front of her, he balanced in silence. A slight smile crept over his cheeks, but he said nothing. Moments passed and still his eyes burned into her trembling body.
“What are you staring for?” Her tone was high pitched, slashing into the uncomfortable silence.
Carl hummed in the back of his throat. “I’m so glad you’re finally here with me, Lana. Everything has fallen into place, just as it should.” The smile turned to a sly grin as his palms rubbed together. His unyielding scrutiny held her in place for a few more minutes, then he stood.
“I have some pressing things to take care of in the house. When I come back we can talk about why you left me high and dry and discuss how you can make it up to me. Until then, I can’t risk someone taking you away from me again.”
He rummaged through one of the drawers and pulled out a dirty rag, covered in oily black stains. Shaking it out, he proceeded to roll it up like a cigar.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered.
Lana looked up at him, clenching her jaw so tightly that it ached. The second of a pause caused him to forcefully slap her left cheek, jolting her head to the side.
The sound cracked through the stillness and the sting brought a glitter of tears.
His breathing quickened and he grabbed her shoulder. “DON’T make me hurt you, Lana,” he yelled. “I don’t want to argue anymore. Please, behave yourself. I know you want me, so don’t fight this.” He pressed his fist to his lips and took a step back. “You do want me, don’t you?”
She tore her gaze away from his face. “Okay, maybe not after I hurt you, I understand. I’ll treat you better from now on, sweetheart.”
Lana kept her mouth shut.
“I don’t really want to slap you again, but I will, if you don’t play nice,” he said flatly. “Is that how you want to play? Do you like it rough?” The corners of his mouth widened to meet his ears. “Now, open your mouth, please.”
She gave in to a muted sob and her chin wobbled uncontrollably as tears stung the blazing slap mark. Her lips parted and she surrendered to his request, a small defeat for the sake of protecting herself from further immediate harm.
“Good girl. I have a treat for you, sweetheart. You and I are going on a road trip in one of my big trucks. It’s waiting for us at the harbour. We’ll get away from here and away from the memories of her…and finally enjoy each other’s company.” A broad grin stretched across his cheeks as if this was all he wanted in the world.
4
“She did what?” Marcus yelled into the receiver. “Tell me you’re not serious, Freddy?”
“I’m sorry, Marcus, I’ve called her phone loads, but she hasn’t picked up.”
Marcus slammed the phone down and buried his face in his palms. “Fuck!” he growled.
She had broken her promise to stay in Fermanagh, and now she was driving head first into danger. Keeping the secret about Rory was a mistake.
A murder in his hotel was a major headache, and the fact that Lana’s ex-fiancé was the only suspect, made it even worse. He hadn’t expected Rory, the guy who snuffed out his bit on the side, to ask Lana for help, or that she’d run back to him.
