CHAPTER 67 - RED
CHAPTER
Red
“ I ’M TELLING YOU the truth!” Tom Slater howls through his broken teeth, his nails ripped to the beds from clinging onto the door frame. “You have to believe me.”
“I don’t have to believe anything, Slater,” I snarl, my eyes black fiery pits of hate against this thieving piece of shit who I’ve trusted for far too long.
He’s taken a further pasting and looks a fucking state, but I’ve reined myself in now.
I must finish the job, otherwise his injuries will never pass as self-inflicted, no matter how many ledges the cunt whacks on the way down.
“Come on, you bastard!” Liam roars, his patience blown as much as mine from listening to Slater’s whining. “No one wants to hear any more of your crap.” He then looks at me. “Where’s Oscar?”
I force Slater through the double doors onto the balcony and smile, hearing a rib snap as I shove him against the iron railings.
“Best to keep one of us at the event so it doesn’t look suspicious.
” I raise my voice to be heard over Slater’s howling.
“It’s not like we can’t deal with this, is it?
I left the door on the latch though in case Oscar needs to alert us to anything. ”
Like impromptu visits from Galvatore or Bristoni...
Just thinking of the latest threat in the form of a heart riles me. It’s a good job there’s someone to take my anger out on. And I reckon this bastard here has fueled the lot!
I look over the railing to the balcony of Room Twelve directly below - the room booked for Tom Slater. Everything is lined up perfectly .
“Now, you cunt!” I bark in Slater’s face. “You’re going on a little trip...”
“No! NOOOOO! You can’t!” Slater screams. “Please don’t do this, I beg you! It wasn’t my fault. What I said about my house was true, but there’s more...”
“Shut it, Slater. You’re giving me a fucking headache.” Liam pulls Slater half over the balcony rails.
“ Please !” Slater stares into my eyes, his own streaming with pain and fright. His broken fingers claw at my jacket. He’d best not get blood on my shirt, otherwise I’ll kill him twice.
“Listen, please listen! You’re right that there’s traitors in your firm, but it’s not me.
It was them forcing me to skim. But I never gave any information to anyone.
I-I just needed the money.” Slater’s pain-ridden eyes still beseech me, but I’m not looking.
I’ve had enough of lies. Had enough of bullshit.
I’m done with it, and I’m done with him .
It takes little strength to hoist my side of Slater up onto the rails.
“I know you’ll kill me,” Slater blathers. “I understand I let you down, but you need to know who’s behind this... You need to know who’s working against you!” His eyes track to Liam and then back to me. “Even though it won’t save me, it’s the last thing I can do to make amends.”
I falter only for a second. “Forget it! We both know it’s you.”
“No! Those people... they’re close to you. Too close! You...”
“Fuck this for a game of soldiers!” Liam roars, dragging Slater further over the rails. He stares at me in disbelief. “You’re not thinking about listening to this twat, are you?”
“Please! Please ...”
My head swims, my anger mixing with distrust. This bastard howling down my ear isn’t helping. Why is Liam so desperate to hurry this along? Prickles of unease about my brothers - Liam especially, prod yet again. But then Slater jolts me from my thoughts by tugging at my arm.
“I’ve got nothing to lose now, Mr Bateman! The man, the men who are working against you, they...”
“COME ON!” Liam screams. “Let’s finish this! We’ve been gone ages!”
I snap back to my senses. Liam’s not hurrying this along for any other reason other than he’s right - we have been gone ages. Slater is the one and only, lying thief of a mole.
I heave the rest of the man over the rail. “Nothing can make amends for what you’ve done, so fuck off!” I let go of Slater’s ankle at the exact time Liam does. We work well together when singing from the same sheet.
Slater’s piercing scream fades, ending with a dull thunk from below. A couple of seconds pass before shouts rise from pavement level.
“Best get away from this balcony in case we’re spotted.” Hurrying back into the room, making sure Liam is behind me, I glance at the tarpaulin. “Right, get this folded up and let’s...”
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
My head snaps around, my heart lurching at the sight of Arianna in the room. “What the hell are you doing here?” I scream. “Get back to the event now !”
Arianna’s expression is not one I want to see. It’s pure horror. And it’s horror at me .
“You... you killed him!” she gasps, her eyes darting between me and Liam. “I saw... you both threw him over... over the...” Leaning forward, she retches.
“For fuck’s sake! Why did you tell her we were here?” Liam bundles up the tarpaulin. “We need to get out of here now!”
“I didn’t tell her anything! I don’t understand how sh...”
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” Arianna’s hands twist in her hair, her eyes darting to her weekend case on the luggage stand in the corner. She stares at me like I’m an alien. “This is our room? You did this in our room?”
I move forward to reach for her hand. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave.”
“Don’t! Don’t touch me!” She yanks her arm out of my reach. “I don’t want you anywhere near me!”
“For God’s sake!” Liam mutters. “A hysterical woman. Just what we need...”
Grabbing Arianna’s hand, I pull her towards the door, turning back to check there’s nothing out of place in my suite. “I’ll explain later, but please let’s go. We must return to the event.” And I want to know who told her which room. Oscar?
“You want me to go back to that party?” Arianna shrieks. “With you? After what you’ve just done?”
“You ain’t got any choice about it, sweetheart.” I drag her towards the lift, already hearing approaching sirens. “Liam, time to plant the note in Room Twelve. Put it in prime position on a coffee table or something.”
Arianna tugs my arm. “What note? Whose is Room Twelve?” She looks back over her shoulder at Room One .
“You ask too many questions.” I slap the “call lift” button as Liam disappears down the stairs to the floor below.
Fuck . If this lift doesn’t hurry up, it will be quicker to take the stairs ourselves.
“You killed a man in our room... Why did...”
“We haven’t got fucking time to deliberate,” I bark, punching the brass plaque containing the lift buttons. “I just need this bastard lift to hurry!”
“But...”
“Calm down! I’ll explain later,” I hiss, wondering how to quell her hysterics in the time it takes to travel one floor to the conference suite.
Despite the excellent soundproofing hotels offer, I can hear the muffled commotion of sirens and people outside.
It won’t be long before the place is up in arms. All three of us need to be back within the event before that happens.
Just at the point when I’m about to drag Arianna up however many flights of stairs there are to reach the fucking conference suite, I sigh with relief as the green light above the lift illuminates and the doors open with a “ding”.
“Finally!” Pulling Arianna into the lift, I slap the button for the uppermost floor. This lift better go up before it goes down.
Arianna yanks her hand from mine and stares at me wide-eyed, her breaths ragged.
“Look,” I say, frantically pushing the conference suite floor button again. “I didn’t want you to see that, but there’s a good reason for what happened.”
She says nothing, just stares; her horror and disappointment are impossible to ignore. I hate how uncomfortable it makes me feel.
No one makes me feel uncomfortable, but she is succeeding.
As the lift door begins to slide closed, I can at least relax. Going up one floor won’t take long.
Well, I could relax if, when there were all but a few inches left before the lift doors completely shut, Arianna didn’t squeeze through them.
“ARIANNA!” I smash my body into the lift doors. I prize my fingers between the two shiny gold halves, but mocking me, they remain tightly shut.
“Fuck!” I bellow, slapping the “open door” button to no avail.
And as the lift begins its treacherously slow ascent to the conference suite, I can do nothing but wait while my wife bolts away to God knows where.