Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
THE MAN’S FOOTSTEPS receded into the distance, and I resisted the urge to walk faster. Instead, I maintained the brisk-yet-casual pace expected of a woman out walking on her own at that late hour.
I must have been a couple of hundred yards down the road when a prickling of the hairs on the back of my neck told me something was wrong. The road curved to the right, and in the window of a clothes shop ahead of me, I saw the guy whose wallet I’d just liberated following me. Why had he turned around? He was close enough for me to see his eyes focused in my direction as his reflection floated eerily among the mannequins dressed up in evening wear.
My heart sped up as I considered my options.
Walking at my current pace, I could be mistaken for innocent. Maybe the guy changed direction because he was lost? If so, he’d have to find someone else to help with directions. Or perhaps he was an axe murderer? Oh, that was so much more comforting, but I could carry on walking and hope for the best.
Or I could run.
If he’d noticed the wallet was missing, running would make me look pretty guilty. If I ditched it, would he still come after me? Was he the forgiving type?
Another glimpse, this time in a car mirror. He’d gained on me, still walking, but he looked to be about Jimmy’s height and his legs were a lot longer than mine. Could I outrun him? I wouldn’t win gold at the Olympics, but I’d had plenty of practice.
I risked a glance around.
You know that little sentence they print on wing mirrors? That objects in the reflection may be closer than they appear? Well, it was absolutely right. He was thirty yards behind me, and as I turned, his eyes locked on mine.
Oh, Jiminy Cricket. He knew.
I ran.
I hoped that as I was from the area and knew it well and he, being from the States hopefully didn’t, I’d be able to give him the slip. The slap of his leather-soled shoes on the paving slabs told me he’d broken into a run, and that spurred me to sprint faster. What kind of shape was he in? Which of us would run out of steam first?
JJ’s was a mile away, and I cursed myself for saving money by walking. Why hadn’t I taken the Tube or a cab like a normal person? Oh, yeah, because it was harder to steal wallets while riding in a cab.
Silly me.
His footsteps got louder and I realised I had no chance of making it back to JJ’s ahead of him, so I ducked left into a side street. The end was blocked, if I remembered rightly, by a fence with a small hole in it. A hole that should fit me but not him, and barbed wire topped the chain link, which was probably why some enterprising soul had cut the hole in the first place.
The road was narrow, little more than an alley, and with the high buildings either side, little moonlight got in. As I skidded to a halt at the end, a string of spluttered four-letter words spilled past my lips. The place had morphed into a building site. The fence I remembered had been replaced by a barrier of smooth wooden boards, at least eight feet high. Dim pictures pinned to it showed what the area would look like if the builders stopped drinking tea long enough to do any work.
I jumped at it and hooked my arms over the rough timber at the top. My ungainly scramble failed to get me over it, and I fell back to the ground, swearing again as I landed on one knee.
I glanced back.
The guy was almost on me, still moving fast. I didn’t have time for another run-up.
Curses flew from my mouth. Why had I been so stupid as to get myself into this mess? I promised the big man upstairs that if I got out of this, I’d never steal a wallet again. Not unless the mark was clearly too unfit to run, anyway.
Despite the fact I’d never been to church in my life, I looked to the heavens, praying for divine intervention.
And got it.
Scaffolding stretched skywards, covering the facade of the building next to me. A yellow sign told me to Keep off! Danger of death!
Well, I’d never been one for authority, had I?
I went up.
Luckily, pole dancing had formed a big part of my repertoire at Silk, which meant I knew how to shin up one pretty quickly. I could spin around and hang upside down too, although I appreciated those skills weren’t the most valuable in this particular situation. I shot up the scaffolding like I had a flamethrower behind me, hearing a muttered, “Are you insane?” from below as the man began climbing too.
And flipping heck, he was quick. He caught up with me by the sixth story, and as I heaved myself over the splintered edge onto the wooden platform, his hot breath washed across my neck. I rolled onto my back, feeling a fiery pain as something sharp ripped into my side. Ouch! As he crawled forwards over me, his dark eyes fixed on mine, and I did the only thing I could—swung at him with a vicious right hook while saying a silent “thank you” to JJ’s and all who trained there.
There was a satisfying crunch as the cartilage in his nose gave way, and he reeled back, grabbing onto a protruding piece of scaffold as he narrowly saved himself from going over the edge. I sprang up and ran to the other end of the platform, cursing the dead end where it butted against a wall. Should I go up or down? Even running on adrenaline, I didn’t have much strength left.
I hesitated too long.
He’d somehow recovered, and his arms snaked around me from behind and squeezed. Was the man part boa constrictor? I twisted in his grasp, bringing my right knee up, hard, and feeling it make a good, solid contact. The guy’s eyes bulged slightly and even started to water a bit, but his grip got tighter and he backed me into the wall, blocking my legs with his so I couldn’t try the same trick again.
What was wrong with him? Did he feel no pain? Was he even human?
He grinned, and without further warning, my legs were swept out from underneath me and I found myself lying on my back, my wrists pinned down either side of my head by his hands. He squashed my legs against the dirty boards as he sat on me, panting, blood dripping from his nose and landing on my face and chest.
What would it be this time? Murder or have him take what little innocence I had left? Having tried the latter twice, I’d almost have preferred to die. I had the idea that I should speak, start begging or something, but no words came out. Instead, I simply lay there, trying to burn through him with my glare.
He met my eyes. “So,” he started, “you are one mad little brat.”
“Are you going to kill me?” I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer.
“Well, I wasn’t, but I’m reconsidering now you’ve broken my nose.”
“If I said I was sorry, would that make a difference?”
“Would you mean it?”
I tried to shrug, but I couldn’t quite manage it. “Probably not.”
“At least you’re honest.” He actually laughed. “What I really want is my wallet back. Where is it?”
“Left-hand pocket,” I admitted.
He looked down, and I saw my coat had come open in the struggle. As well as the now-tattered fishnets, I was wearing a skirt so short Donnie called it a belt, a white shirt, also ripped undone, and a push-up bra. Thankfully, I’d taken off the tie and left it at the club, so at least the dude couldn’t strangle me with that.
He stifled a laugh. “What on earth are you wearing?”
“Would you believe my school uniform?”
“Not a chance. You’re a stripper?”
“Yeah, so? We can’t all have city jobs, you know. And there’s only a market for what I do because men like you want to get their rocks off.”
Even though I didn’t like my occupation, I still felt a bizarre need to defend it.
“You think I’m a city boy? Couldn’t be further from the truth, sweetheart. And schoolgirls don’t do it for me.”
“You’re not going to, well, you know, then?”
His eyes widened in genuine shock. “Of course not. I’m not a monster.”
“You are lying on top of me.”
“Only because you nearly shoved me off the sixth storey of a block of scaffolding. What’s wrong with you, woman? Do you have no fear?”
“Hey, don’t ask me what my problem is. Anyone would do the same if you started chasing them.”
“I can honestly say this is the first time I’ve been in this position with a female. Usually, they’re the ones chasing me.”
“Ooh, arrogant much? And would you stop bleeding all over me? It’s not pleasant.”
“Demanding little thing, aren’t you? If I move, are you going to try running off again?”
“Um…” I wasn’t sure I wanted to commit to that.
“Because if you do, I’ll come after you again, and I will catch you. And if that happens, our next stop will be the nearest police station.”
My legs had been jelly before he sat on them, and now they’d gone numb as well. He was absolutely right—he would catch me.
“Okay, okay. Since you put it like that, I promise.”
He let me up, and I clambered to my feet, trying not to show how much I was shaking. Standing close, the man was even bigger than I first thought. I didn’t even reach his shoulder.
“Hey, you’re bleeding too,” he said, peering down at my side.
“I think I caught myself on a nail or something. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m taking you to get cleaned up.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he reminded me, “It’s come with me or pay a visit to the cops.”
“Fine.”
I folded my arms and stared at him. If he planned to do something really nasty to me, surely he’d have done it by now? Or did he just want to get me somewhere it would be easier to hide my body?
Oh, heck. I didn’t have much choice, did I? Maybe I could figure out a way to escape on the way to wherever he was taking me.
The builders had removed all the ladders away from the scaffolding, probably to stop people from climbing up it, so we had no choice but to climb down the outside again. I did my coat up and wiped my hands on it, trying to clean off the blood and sweat, then lowered myself over the edge. By the time I got to the bottom, the guy was already there, and as my feet touched the ground, he hung up his phone.
“There’s a car coming for us. It’s not a good idea to try taking a cab looking like this.” He gestured at his nose and my side.
I looked down at myself and had to concede he’d made a good point—I did look as if I’d escaped from a slaughterhouse. But good point or not, I lagged behind as he took a few steps towards the end of the road because I really didn’t want to go with him.
“Come on, Diamond,” he said.
“Diamond?”
“You’re pretty to look at and hard to scratch.”
Diamond it was. I’d been called worse. I gave in and followed him, and two minutes later, a black limousine pulled up beside us. He opened the back door and ushered me inside, then with a click, the door closed, leaving my old world far behind.