Page 29 of His Sweet Torment
Beth smiled at her. “Sure, honey. Look, it’s dead in here today, why don’t you take off for the day?”
“Are you sure?”
“Very.” Beth came to hug Padme and Padme clung to her.
“Thank you, Beth. For everything. I mean it.”
Beth released her and frowned. “Pad…are you sure you’re okay?”
Padme felt her eyes fill with tears. “I’m not…but I will be. Thanks, Beth.”
Padme walked slowly down to the coffeehouse, feeling Ingles’s men following her. She wasn’t worried; they never came in, just waited for her outside. She pulled her baseball cap down over her eyes and went into the café. She ordered her usual – vanilla latte - and turned to find a table at the back and wait for Lisa’s signal.
To her horror, Frederick Ingles was behind her. He smiled at her. “Hello again, Padme. Would you join me?”
Oh fuck.Padme felt panic well up inside her, but she kept her face expressionless. “And what if I say I’d rather not.”
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Then I’d say I’d hate to ruin that pretty gray t-shirt you’re wearing.”
Padme felt him press something to her – she didn’t need to look down to see it was a knife. “Fine.”
They sat down, and he studied her. “You look tired. Beautiful, but tired.”
“What do you want, Ingles?”
“Just your company for a few minutes, my dear. Checking in, you know? Wanting to know how you’re spending your last days.”
She met his gaze. “Why not just kill me? I’m tired of all your empty threats, Ingles. Either kill me or leave me alone.”
Frederick chuckled. “I have to say the temptation to drive this knife into your exquisite body grows more acute every day, but I’m enjoying the anticipation. And there’s the risk that Toscano will disappear for good if he knows you’re already dead. No, I want him to be watching when I kill you.”
Padme was amazed she didn’t feel scared anymore, that she was growing immune to the horror of this man. “Answer me something. The testimony Enver gave…it put your operatives away, perhaps lost you some business, some government contracts. But I’ve done my research, Ingles, you may have lost face, but you’re still worth billions. Why not enjoy that and let it drop?”
Frederick’s eyes were alive with anger. “Honor.” His voice was crackling with dangerous energy. “Toscano thought he could takemedown?”
“He did… and, to be honest, he succeeded, didn’t he? What are you now, Ingles? Little more than a poor little rich boy acting out. Go home, Ingles. Live your life. This insane revenge plan will only end one way.”
He moved so quickly that no-one could have stopped him. He lunged for her and grabbed her throat. Padme heard the barista shout “Hey!” in alarm.
Frederick slammed Padme against the wall, his fingers squeezing her throat. “You little whore,” he spat, “What do you know about me? I am anIngles.”
She felt the tip of the knife press against her belly. “Do it,” she said in a low steady voice. “Kill me. Because I swear to you, Ingles, this will be your last chance.”
Ingles’ face was red with fury, and for a second, Padme thought he might go through with it. Then they both heard the click of a safety being flicked off.
“You will take your hands off of her, right now, Ingles, or I swear to god, your brains will decorate the wall.” Dale’s voice was hard, unflinching.
Slowly, Ingles released her and she slipped away from him. Frederick turned and faced Dale, whose gun was still aimed at is head. “Just a misunderstanding, Agent.”
Dale put his gun down, but didn’t holster it. “Pad, you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You want to press charges?”
Padme hesitated. “No. I thinkMr. Ingles got the message.” The last thing she needed right now was to go down to the field office to make a statement. She was already late for Lisa. “Have you got this? I need to go use the bathroom, straighten myself up.”
Dale nodded, throwing her a mile. “I got this.”
