Chad holds her hand. âYou don't have to do this for me, Jenny.â
âI want to. I owe it.â
âJenny, you don't owe me a debt.â
âNot you. Everyone here.â
*****
Richard I offer my beautiful wife a glass. âIâm sorry, my Love, this isnât what I hoped for, today of all days.â
âMaster, weâre together. Charlotteâs back with Michael and James. Thatâs all that matters. Everything is fine. More than fine.â
She tilts her glass, tapping it against mine with the softest of chimes, then, watching me from under her lashes, sips Bucks Fizz in celebration of the day.
What did I do to deserve you?
Brushing my lips over hers, âYouâre right of course. Thatâs all that matters.â And as we touch, her pupils enlarge, their black heart almost swallowing the sea-green of the irises. The scent of her assails me.
I breathe close by her, âDo you want to go back to bed?â
âMmmmâ¦. yes, Master. I do.â
I pull her in tight, controlling her, pressing myself against her as I nibble at an ear lobe, my swelling shaft pressuring my pants. âIâm going to massage you, run my hands all over that naked body of yours.â
Her giggle is quick and lively. âMaster, I have to tell you, thatâs not your hands Iâm feeling.â
âCome on then,â I laugh. My palm flat between her shoulders, I push her towards the bedroom. âAnd take that bottle with you.â
There is a shudder. It rumbles through the floor, vibrating through the soles of my feet and rattling the bottle musically against the ice in the bucket.
What the fuck was that?
Thunder?
Earthquake?
Here?
Elizabeth is looking wildly from side to side, her fear visible, pupils now pin-pricks.
The shudder repeats.
I tap into the intercom. âFrancis? Whatâs going on?â
Silenceâ¦.
Fuckâ¦. Of course sheâs not thereâ¦. Not todayâ¦.
Snapping open my laptop, I mutter to myself while the machine flickers to life, jabbing at keys to bring up the security cameras, then curse at what I see.
âElizabeth, go up to the Penthouse, right now.â
âRichardâ¦. Masterâ¦. What is it?â
The sheer panic on her face ricochets through me.
âThe building is under attack. Do as I say. Go upstairs. Stay close to Charlotte.â
âCan't I stay here with you?â
âNo!â Then I calm my tone. âI can't think straight, my Love, if you're here and I'm worrying about you.
You'll be as safe with Charlotte as it's possible to be. Her sense of survival is very finely honed.â
Looking unhappy, she nods, turning to the hallway.
âDonât use the elevator. Use the stairs.â
Even from here, the sheen of her white-faced fear is obvious.
My Loveâ¦.
I stride across, wrap my arms around her, kiss the top of her head. âIt will be alright. You'll see. But do as I say and stay with Charlotte.â
Her fingers are clinging into my shoulders and carefully, I prise her loose.
âGo. Find Charlotte.â
*****
James Despite my hopes, the situation between Michael and Charlotte has not improved.
The only people who can really hurt you, are those you love the mostâ¦.
Michael sits on the couch, pretending to watch old movies. Charlotte is reading, but sheâs standing up to do it. I sit with my laptop, trying to muster up the will to do some work, but finding myself constantly distracted by the cool looks the other two award each other.
Thereâs a shudder and a rumble, as though of distant thunder or crashing traffic. We all look up and around.
âWhat the hell was that?â I mutter.
Trouble?
I meet eyes with Michael, and as one we stand to look out and down. Thereâs nothing unusual to be seen, but perhaps there shouldnât be. The noise sounded - felt - internal to the building.
Charlotte has snapped open her laptop and is busily mousing and clickingâ¦.
Whatâs she doing?
Her face heats as she sees me looking. âUm, the security camerasâ¦.â She tenses again.
She shouldnât be looking at those, and well she knows itâ¦.
Handy that you hacked the security system as wellâ¦.
At any other time, Iâd see the funny side, although Iâm not sure if Richard would, but right nowâ¦.
âForgiven,â I say. âWhat can you see?â
The cursor darts around the screen, âLooking now,â she says, bending to her work. The screen flicks between one area after another; the lobby, conference rooms, corridors, before, abruptly, down at the parking levels, she freezes at the image on-screen.
Men dressed in black, faceless and masked, firing weapons. The shriek of bullets. Smoke billowingâ¦.
She explodes to a stand. âThe buildingâs under attack!â
âCome on,â I shout, sprinting for the door. Michael follows me, turning back at the last moment to say something to Charlotte, but I donât pick out the words.
In the hall, I head by reflex for the elevator, then pull myself up short and turn for the stairwell instead.
Michael nods agreement. âNot a good idea,â he mutters, nodding at the lift doors.
Who wants to step out to find themselves facing a gun?
âWhere are we heading?â he asks.
âFifth floor. Thatâs where weâll find Richard and Beth.â
As we race downwards, a thin stream of people are heading down with us; janitors and cleaners most of them, the odd office worker.
Where are they all?
Maybe theyâre all using the other stairsâ¦.
Alarms blare deafeningly around us. At first, I think it just the general alarm, but then the air turns foul, chimneying upwards. And climbing up the stairs against the flow of people, are suited firefighters, carrying the scent of smoke with them.
Christ Jesus!
Weâre on fire?
Michael stumbles to a halt by me, turning to look back up the stairwell, standing back against the wall and out of the way of men and women heading downwards at speed.
Charlotte wonât be caught out that easilyâ¦.
âDonât worry,â I say. âYou can be sure sheâs getting the hell out as fast as she can. Sheâll not sit helplessly by.â
His face contorts. âBut she wonâtâ¦â
I almost reverse on myself as I screech to a halt in my headlong plunge down. âWhat? Why not?â
His eyes are wild, his chest heaving. âI told her to stay put. And I made her promise to obey. I think sheâll try to keep the promiseâ¦â
Oh, for fuckâs sakeâ¦.
âJeez. What a time to disable herâ¦.â
You bloody moronâ¦.
ââ¦. and you accuse me of treating her as a subâ¦â
Call herâ¦.
â¦. warn herâ¦.
I shufti through my pockets for my mobileâ¦.
Fuck!
âDamn! No phone. Got yours on you?â
His eyes widen. âNo. I just ran from the apartment.â
âSo, sheâs promised to stay put, in a burning building, and we canât contact her?â
âYes.â
I donât know what my face says, but Michaelâs is ashen. I turn, heading upwards, taking the steps two at a time, but within only two flights we are met again by the fire-fighters, this time descending âGet moving downward,â one yells, arms outstretched to herd us back down. âThe floor above hereâs on fire. The whole buildingâs coming apart. You canât go that way.â
Around us smoke billows, blackening and now chimneying upwards. The heated air rushes by with a whistle and above are the sounds of crashing and collapse.
And my Jade-Eyes has been told by the man she loves, to remain where she is.
*****