Two Weddings and a Fugitive (The Chanel Series Book 4) (17 page)

I couldn’t see his face but I could hear a smile in his voice. ‘Ahh Chanel, I’d love to take you out there before you leave. The feel of the wind rushing over your skin, the salt spray invigorating you, blue everywhere you look.’ His arm crept around my shoulders. ‘Well there’s nothing quite like it.’

I lifted my glass, surprised to find it was empty.

‘Here.’ He walked over to the table and brought back the bucket, taking out the bottle to fill up my glass again.

I shook my head. ‘I can’t. I should be….’ It was the darndest thing. I was having trouble remembering exactly what I should have been doing.

‘Nonsense.’ Alex pressed the glass back into my hand and helped me lift it to my lips.

‘What were we talking about?’ The alcohol had stormed my brain. I
really
needed to stop. But for some reason I didn’t resist as Alex lifted the glass again.

‘There you are,’ he said. ‘Be a good girl and drink it all up.’

‘No.’ I shook my head and then wished I hadn’t. Shadows and lights blurred in front of my eyes.

‘That’s all right.’ Alex’s voice was a contented rumble. ‘I think you’ve had enough.’

I stumbled as I turned towards him. ‘Enough for what?’ My words sounded as if they were coming from another room.

‘Enough to let me do what I want.’

I expected him to kiss me when he bent his head. But instead, he tucked it under my arm and heaved me up onto his shoulder.

‘Stop,’ I mumbled. ‘What are you doing?’ Blackness swirled around me, and motion left my limbs.

‘Taking you to meet a friend.’

Drool ran out of my mouth as I stared down at the ground. I tried to scream. I tried to fight. But moving at all was impossible. Fog pressed in around the edges of my vision. I tried to blink it away, but once they had closed, my eyes refused to re-open.

The last thing I heard before all consciousness fled, was Alex whistling Chopin’s Funeral March.

A giant hand rocked my cradle. I swayed gently in time with a slapping sound. The rhythm slowed and the swaying decreased till I was once again still.

I didn’t know how long I had lain there, but suddenly I was
aware
I was lying there. Then the sound of seagulls filled my ears and the scent of salt filled my nostrils and I knew where I was. The Marina.

I stared at a white wall while I blinked my eyes a few times and then I tried to sit up.

‘Chanel.’

‘Nick?’ I’d never been so glad to hear the little man’s voice.

There was a shuffling sound and then I felt the weight of his body against my back. ‘You okay?’

‘I think so.’ My head hurt like a bitch. ‘What happened?’

‘That bastard jumped me.’

I tried to sit up again but my hands were tied behind my back. I looked down. I was still wearing my dress from the night before. I had been at the rehearsal dinner. How had I gotten here?

I’d gone outside and Billy had wanted to tell me something. Urghhh – I pushed
that
thought aside. Billy and Sal. That was going to take a bit of getting used to. But, what had happened after that?

I’d walked over to the shadows and….

‘Alex,’ I said. ‘He…he…Oh my God. That bastard
drugged
me.’

‘He hit
me
over the head.’

We were silent for a moment, both of us mulling over the depth of Alex’s betrayal.

‘They’ll find us.’ I said it more to reassure myself than Nick.

He let out a sigh. ‘I’m not so sure.’

‘Billy knows he’s in the Marina.’

‘We’re on the The Babushka.’

I squeezed my eyes shut. I remembered the name but couldn’t…. ‘Oh,’ I said. The Babushka was the permanent boat owned by a local Russian. We’d already given that one the all clear.

Nick let out a sigh. ‘Well, it explains one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Why some of the guys at work called Alex, Rusky. I thought it was because he liked dried biscuits.’

So Alex was Russian? More food for thought. But right now I think there was a call for less thought and more action. ‘Have you tried yelling for help?’

He shook his head. ‘They told me they would shoot me if they heard even a peep out of me.’ He pulled a face. ‘I believed them.’

I believed them too.

‘Vere is she?’

I gasped. Even though I was hearing it through the wall, Boris’s voice was unmistakeable.

‘Close your eyes.’ Nick’s weight shifted off me and I heard him scuffling backwards. ‘Pretend you’re asleep.’

I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on regulating my breathing. The door rattled and then squeaked and I let my body relax.

‘What did you do to her?’ Nick said. ‘She won’t wake up.’

A hand grabbed my shoulder and shook me till I flopped over onto my back. It was all I could do to not start shrieking in terror.

‘Leave her alone,’ Nick yelled.

I heard the sound of flesh smacking flesh.

‘Shut up, freak,’ Alex said.

It was only the knowledge that Boris was there that allowed me to lie still.

‘Ve should have taken them and gone,’ Boris said.

‘We’ve been over this,’ Alex said. ‘If we’d left, they would have been all over us.’

‘And if ve vait, they vill find us.’

‘Soon,’ Alex said. ‘After sunset.’

‘Excellent.’ Boris laughed. ‘I am looking forward to gutting her.’

I may have flinched at that point, but they didn’t notice.

‘Nooooo,’ Nick yelled. I heard him move and then felt his body beside mine again. ‘You leave her alone, or I’ll, I’ll….’

I knew that if Boris wanted to gut me there was nothing Nick or I could do about it, but I loved the little man for trying.

Boris knew it too. ‘Vat are you going to do, Dwarf? Gnaw at my ankles?’ He let out a guffaw. ‘You’re nothing but a circus freak.’

There was a smacking sound and Nick let out an, ‘Oooooff,’ as his body jerked into mine.

‘Come on,’ Alex said. ‘You can use him as a punching bag when we get out to sea.’

I could feel Nick’s body quivering against mine but it wasn’t until the door had closed that I realised he was crying.

‘Hey,’ I whispered. ‘Are you hurt?’ I wiggled around so I was looking at him.

‘Not really.’ He sniffled and blinked his eyes.

‘Well what’s wrong? I mean, apart from the obvious?’

‘He’s right.’

‘Don’t be silly.’ It was hard to console someone when your hands were tied behind your back.

‘I
am
just a circus freak.’

‘They’re just words. Sticks and stones and all that.’

He shook his head. ‘Dad was the ringmaster. My Mum was one of the midget clowns.’ Tears streamed down his face, cascading off his cheeks and onto his shirt.

‘But…you’re tall enough to be in The Force.’ I was clutching at straws.

He let out another sob. ‘I lied.’

‘You’re not a policeman?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I lied about my height, and they never checked.’ His crying got louder. ‘I’m only four foot six,’ he howled.

‘But you look much taller.’ I leaned over and nudged him with my shoulder but he wasn’t to be cheered up.

‘I only had one job and I failed.’

‘That’s not true. Matt is still safe.’ I didn’t know if
our
getting killed instead of him would be considered a successful mission.

He shook his head so rapidly that a few of his tears flicked off his face and smacked into mine. ‘My job was to protect
you
. Not Matt.’

I heard my breath leave me in a whoosh.

‘Billy chose me to look after you. And I failed.’

I lay there while his crying reduced to sniffling. I didn’t know how I felt about his revelation. All this time I had thought of myself as Billy’s partner. The girl he had faith in. Now I found out that he hadn’t even trusted me to look after myself.

Nick’s crying finally stopped and he rolled and wiped his face on my skirt. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘For the crying, or for leaving a snail trail on my party dress?’

‘For the trail.’ He squinted at my skirt. ‘A good dry cleaner should get that off.’

‘Yes, well, if we don’t think of something it’s going to be my
blood
they’re trying to get off.’

‘Why you?’ Nick asked. ‘Why not Matt? He got the intel that brought Boris down.’

I pulled a face. ‘I’ve been wondering the same thing. All I can think of is that it was me that brought in the clowns.’

The look on his face hardened.

‘Oh please,’ I said, ‘I’m not having a crack at you.’
Sensitive much?
‘They kidnapped Mum, Harry and Martine, and I rescued them. But Mum’s twin sister caught us and….’ I sighed. ‘It’s a long story.’

‘Got a little time on my hands,’ he said.

‘And I’ll tell it to you,
after
we escape.’

‘In case you haven’t noticed, our hands are Duct taped behind our backs.’

‘Hmmmmm,’ I said.

‘What?’

‘Oh nothing.’

He wobbled over onto his knees and shuffled closer. ‘What?’

‘Well, it’s just that I’m pretty sure the door’s not locked.’

He rolled his eyes and spoke slowly, as if to a mentally-challenged person. ‘Our hands….’

‘Yes, yes. Duct tape.’ I squirmed until I was on my knees and said, ‘Turn around.’

‘What are you doing?’ He wiggled around till I could see his hands. They hadn’t been shy with the tape.

‘Stay still.’ The aim was to bite the edge of the tape, but at the last second I lost my balance, jolting forwards so that one of his fingers ended up in my mouth.

‘Really?’ He turned and looked over his shoulder at me. ‘You could have had a piece of Nick Junior anytime over the last few days but you wait till now? I’ve got to tell you, I don’t know if I can get him to perform under these circumstances. It’ll be a real tough gig. But for you, I’m willing to give it a shot.’

‘Oh puulleease.’ I sat back up. ‘I aimed for the tape. I missed. Now shut up and let me work.’ I bent again, this time latching onto the tape with my teeth.

‘Ohhhhh,’ Nick said.

He flexed his wrists to tighten the tape, but even with that, I was unable to part the tough material.

‘It’s not working.’ It was a major bummer. Plan B was much more complicated and, quite frankly, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to balance him on my back and get up without hands.

‘We need something sharp.’ Nick looked around the cabin. Apart from us, it was empty.

‘Don’t suppose you brought a knife with you? Or something else metallic?’

‘Of course I didn’t…wait a minute.’ His eyes went from lost to hopeful. ‘My teeth,’ he yelped.

‘I just tried that, I couldn’t….’

‘No,’ he said. ‘
My
teeth.’

I stared at him for a second before I remembered what I had seen floating in the glass of water. The back edge of his false teeth had been all metal. ‘Ooooohh. Do you think they’ll cut the tape?’

‘Only one way to find out.’ He pursed his lips and puffed his cheeks out till his eyes bulged in their sockets.

‘Oh wait,’ I said. ‘Don’t tell me. I’ve got this one. You’re a puffer fish.’

He stopped and rolled his eyes. ‘I’m trying to get my teeth out. My dentist says they’ve got excellent retention.’

I was happy for him and his dentist but it wasn’t getting us any closer to freedom.

He took a deep breath and repeated his previous performance, his face turning bright red with his efforts. ‘It’s no good,’ he panted. ‘You’re going to have to get it.’

I stared at him for a second, waiting for him to burst out laughing and tell me he was joking. He didn’t.

‘Come on Princess,’ he said. ‘Don’t tell me you’d rather get gutted by Boris than put your fingers in my mouth.

‘Right,’ I said as I shuffled around on my knees. ‘Put your mouth over my hand.’

He let out a chuckle. ‘Bet you never thought you’d be saying
that
to me.’

‘Just do it.’

‘Niké.’

I groaned and wiggled my fingers at him.

I’ve never felt a dead fish before, but I was betting it felt like this. Except for the fact that it was warm, and I could feel Nick’s breath flowing over my palm – okay, so it probably felt
nothing
like a dead fish, but it had to have been as disgusting.

Soft, slimy, hard – there it was. I wrapped my finger and thumb around the denture and pulled. Nick’s dentist was right about the retention.

He spat out my hand and said, ‘You need to get your fingertips up to the top edge and pull down,’ and then he slimed all over me again.

This time I got my fingers up to the top of the ridge and pulled. The denture let go with a sucking pop and fell into my hand.

‘Eeeeekkk,’ I squealed. ‘It’s slimy.’

‘Don’t you drop it,’ he growled. ‘Here.’ I heard him turn around. ‘Give it to me.’

I pressed the denture into his hand and a second later felt him start to saw at bindings.

‘Don’t you dare bite me,’ I said.

He let out a grunt and a few seconds later I felt the tape giving.

‘It’s working.’ I flexed my wrists and didn’t even flinch when the metal of his plate cut into the skin on my wrist. ‘Nearly there,’ I said, and a second later my hands sprung apart. I ripped the tape off my wrists, turned around and grabbed the denture out of his. All of a sudden, I didn’t care how slimy it was – we were minutes away from freedom.

It didn’t take me long to cut through the tape on Nick’s wrists. He winced as he wiggled his fingers and then took his teeth back from me.

He flipped them into his mouth and gave me a big grin. ‘Nice work partner.’ He held his fist out and I bumped it with my own. ‘What do we do now?’

I looked at the closed door. ‘We escape.’ I reached for the door latch.

‘Wait, we need a plan.’

What we need,’ I said, ‘is a weapon. It’s daylight, we only need to get to the deck.’

He nodded. ‘They won’t be able to create a big scene.’

‘People will be around the Marina. We’ll be able to get help.’

We stared at each other for a few moments and then I said, ‘We can do this. We
have
to do this.’ I really didn’t feel like ending the day the way Boris had it planned.

‘No guts. No glory.’ Nick held up his fist again.

‘Did you really have to say guts?’

He flashed me a grin and then reached out and slowly turned the handle on the door. I had been right. It wasn’t locked. He stopped and looked at me, no doubt wondering the same thing I was. Had they left it open on purpose so they could kill us as we tried to escape, or had they done it out of sheer, bloody arrogance?

We were about to find out.

We crept out of the room and into a small hallway.

‘That way,’ Nick whispered pointing to the right.

The hall emptied into a room big enough for about six people to lounge comfortably. A couple of magazines and a book lay discarded on the coffee table. At the far end of the room was a galley kitchen.

‘Excellent,’ Nick said.

I watched as he opened a small drawer and pulled out a couple of knives. He balanced one of them on a finger and then flipped it up, snatching it out of the air with the ease of an expert. ‘They’ll do,’ he said.

He held one out to me but I shook my head. I just couldn’t make myself do knives. The frying pan sitting on the cooktop, however, looked perfect. I saw Nick tuck knives up his sleeves and behind his belt as I picked up the frying pan. Cast iron. It should pack quite a punch.

‘Going to give them a bit of my circus magic.’ He wiggled his fingers at me.

A picture of him throwing those golf balls popped into my head. ‘You can throw knives?’

‘Mum made sure I learnt.’ He let out a sigh. ‘She never could understand my wanting a different life.’

Wielding our weapons of choice, we slowly climbed the stairs to the deck. Where were they? Were they both still there? Those were questions I would have preferred to have answers to, but it seemed I was going to have to deal with it the way I normally did. Just stumble in and hope for the best.

Nick reached up towards the hatch but I whispered, ‘Let me do it.’

He glared back at me and I shrugged my shoulders. ‘Oh come
on
. Your arms aren’t long enough and you know it.’