He'll Come Through - Chapter 4 - We gotta get out of this place

4 - We gotta get out of this place

Her head didn’t just hurt, it throbbed like hell. Lilah fought to open her eyes and felt as though she were blinded. In stages she opened first the easy right eyelid, then the heavy non-functional left one. She was slumped against Quinn, unless there was another huge wall of muscle in the same room. His head was on hers, and from the regular breath sounds, she figured he was asleep, though knowing that he was some sort of adult Boy Scout, he would have one eye open.

“Quinn?” she wriggled under him and he lifted his head from hers.

“You ok Blondie? I’m so glad you’re awake!” the relief on his face was genuine and her anger immediately softened.

The room was dark; a single shaft of moonlight cutting across the room from the window in front of them, despite that she could still make out his features.

                “I was worried girl; you’ve been out of it for ages.”

                “What time is it?” she tried to move, every inch of her body hurt she wanted to stretch her arms, her legs, never before had she had such a desire to just stand up. She swore if she got through this she’d not forget how restriction like this felt, that she’d never take her freedom both physical and mental for granted.

He shrugged, “I think it was about midnight when I fell asleep, though that wasn’t long ago.”

She dreaded asking questions as the possible answers scared her, but she had to know if they were getting out of here. “Have they been back? Is Gavin finding the money?!

He shook his head slowly, “seems lover boy is either jealous of you being with a man, or doesn’t give a shit!”

She at least had the decency to blush at his quip, but then the defence was there again, “he knows I’d be alone, he probably doesn’t believe it’s me. I expect they’ll make me talk to him tomorrow to make sure.”

Quinn shook his head, “if he had the slightest thought that you were kidnapped here, being held hostage in a place where people are recovering from such unrest, where it's dog eat dog, he’d NEVER leave you to them, there’d be no time for doubt. He should be here, now, sorting this.”

Lilah sighed, “You don’t know anything about him....” even she knew this was a weak line of defence.

                “Listen to yourself Delilah! We are tied to bloody chairs in the middle of nowhere because your prick boyfriend boss won’t pay a ransom because he’s probably jealous of you being with another man! If he loves you so much, where is he? Where are the helicopters? The police? The SAS? Someone, anyone!! You are so out of touch.”

They sat in silence for a while, arguing was pointless, but Quinn was right, if he antagonised her she seemed to pull herself together, angry was much better to handle than upset.

                “What are you doing?” she asked as she finally noticed he was wriggling, constantly.

                “If we’re going to get out of here then we need to at least get free. There’s only one guy here I think, the others have driven off. Our only chance to make a move is if there’s only one man here, we can try to overpower him. I just need to get these bloody ropes off my wrists.”

She watched as he wriggled and writhed, “so if you get the rope off what then?”

He paused and in a show of exasperation blew his hair out of his eyes, “recce the room, look for a weapon, we need a vehicle, a means of escape....”

Then with a grunt he actually felt the ropes at his wrist give after numerous hours of friction against the chair. Bringing his arms around, he tentatively wriggled his shoulders.

                “How did you....” he stopped her exclamation with a finger to her lips. She gasped at the touch, it seemed so surreal.

                “What happens next is vital. There was only one man left here earlier, and if that’s the case we can make a run for it. I can overpower one, but if there’s no car, no vehicle we can’t make it at night, it gets too cold...we’re miles from anywhere.”

                “I’ll go however you say, if we walk then that’s ok, I’ll manage. It won’t be too cold, I promise.”

Pausing he smiled at her bravery again, she meant what she said. Reaching down he untied his leg ropes then silently tiptoed to the window. Glancing out he sighed, then scoped the rest of the room, looking for weapons, tools, anything he could use. These guys weren’t the best he’d ever encountered, but they were still dangerous.

Finding a rusty knife under some sacking in the corner he slid it into a leg pocket. Back at the chairs he retied is leg ropes to the chair so that if he had to sit down he could slip his feet into the loops and appear to be restrained. Surprise was the only element he had.

Then he bent to untie her. First her hands, then he helped her loosen her shoulders, admiring the way she grimaced in pain yet didn’t complain. Then he untied her legs.

To Lilah it was like heaven, just being able to stand, take weight on her legs, stand and move. He repeated the same knots with her ropes and showed her how to slide her feet in.

                “We need to find out how many there are. If there’s only one then it’s game time, ok? There’s one car outside, the one they brought me in. We can take that.”

The thought of returning to her seat for even a minute was abhorrent, she wanted to take an axe to it and smash it into a million pieces. Noting her look of disgust he reached out and squeezed her hand.

               

                “We need to play the game Delilah, I know it’s hard but please, just try.”

With a groan she sat back down, slipped her feet into the rope rings and took her hands behind her back despite the protests from her stiff shoulders. When she looked across Quinn had done the same.

                “Arghhhh!” he screeched at full volume, his voice a strangled eerie noise. Her eyes widened with shock and she was glad that she knew this was all staged.

The door burst opened and a man stood there. “What?” he shouted before striding across the room.

He was the only one; Quinn glanced behind him into the poorly lit adjacent room and saw there was no one else there. Perfect. He groaned and moaned, writhing his head from side to side. The man was armed; he needed him close to get his one shot at this.

As the short stocky man stooped to reach for Quinn’s shoulder trying to assess what was happening, Quinn swung an arm and lashed out catching him flush on the side of the head. The gunman was completely unprepared, he’d entered the room thinking that they were both restrained, the move caught him completely off guard and he staggered. The gun clattered to the floor and the man followed closely behind. Before the man had chance to realise why he’d fallen, Quinn had lashed his hands together with rope and secured him to a chair leg.

He tried to question the man in his poor Arabic reverting to French and then English, but he responded to nothing. Searching his pockets he couldn’t find any keys, he’d have to hotwire the car. Once he was happy that the man was secure, he took the gun and held a hand out to Lilah, she was shaking, she’d anticipated that being a lot more dramatic and it was almost anticlimactic, taking a deep breath she followed Quinn into the second room. A TV blasted in the corner, and there was a small cupboard and a chair. Ransacking the cupboard he placed the half a dozen bottles of water and packets of some form of crackers into a cloth sack then led her out to the car.

It took less than a minute for him to start the engine, and Lilah didn’t breathe until the car started to move.

                “I’m presuming that north is a good move, that’s likely the coast. I’ve got some contacts. I just don’t know how far we need to go and how much fuel we have!” He scanned the night sky anxiously, “I just need some form of reference point!”

                “Even a few miles away from there seems like a saving grace.”

He nodded, “but this car’s really recognisable so we’re best off ditching it. The last thing we want is to drive into the path of the other three.”

                “Why did they leave only one to guard us? That seems stupid even to my untrained mind.”

He pulled onto the road and hit the gas hard flooring the vehicle into the dust, “you’re very right Blondie, it’s a mystery really. I think this is a personal thing. Since the unrest in this country there have been lot of attacks on foreigners, but they left those young boys on the bus. They wanted you, and I think lover boy is the key. He’s up to something, and we won’t know why this happened until we get to the bottom of that.”

She shook her head, “you’re wrong about Gavin Quinn, he’s a nice guy, a good man. He would do anything he could to help me.”

He turned so sharply to look at her that he almost pulled the car off the road, “you don’t get it do you? He’s done nothing. He could’ve dealt with this, I’m sure of that! Instead he’s left us to our own devices.”

 She squared up to him, “he works for a charity, spends his time helping people whose lives have been desecrated by disasters, how can you suggest that this is his fault?”

He turned his eyes back to the poor quality road, their sore and stiff joints feeling every bump and ditch, “you are SO gullible Blondie! But that comes from only seeing one side of every argument! There are so many people who use political unrest like this to their own advantage. You have NO idea!”

               

                “If I’m gullible it’s because I see the good in people, but even I’m struggling to see the good in you!”

Quinn huffed loudly, “after all I’ve done for you? I’m the bad guy? Well that figures. They say love is blind and a few screws with your boss seem to have given you rose tinted glasses! Maybe that’s why he did it! Sleep with you and you’ll only ever see the good side of him! A controlling tactic I’ve never thought of!”

Lilah slumped into her seat relaxing then grimacing at the jolt of pain the next pothole caused. “You are despicable Quinn, do you know that? And a bloody bully.”

Laughing he shook his head, “and you are far too innocent for your own good.”

With a scowl she turned to look out into the night, anything was better than this pigheaded man. The drive continued in silence, Quinn straining to make out anything on the horizon, but it was a dark night. Suddenly he started to mutter under his breath, a set of headlights were coming towards them.

                “Who is it?” she breathed, “do you think it’s them?”

He nodded, “this is a dead end road, the farm is the only place it leads I think. So the only car coming this way would be going there. If I’d seen them sooner I could’ve turned the lights off and pulled off the road, it’s dark enough that I doubt they’d see us. But it’s too late; we’ll just have to front it out! Put your seatbelt on and duck, if they see you they’ll know it’s us, there’s a chance they might not recognise me, and we’ll be far enough ahead that we can hide.”

She did as he suggested and crouched down below the window, her poor heart she thought, it was racing again. If they survived this she was moving into her parents home and never leaving it again!

                “They’ve slowed down....” he mumbled, “That’s not a good sign...”

Picking up speed he drove along the road heading for the oncoming headlights. He had to brazen this out, take them head on.

He'll Come Through - Chapter 3 - The plot thickens

3 - The plot thickens

After huddled conversations between the four still masked men, they eventually disappeared outside. It was still daylight but it seemed nearer dusk, a poorly timed rumble for her stomach only confirmed that it was late in the day. She dropped her head, struggling to keep tears at bay, how the hell had this happened? To her?

When she eventually looked up, Quinn was glaring at her, “you work out here?” When she nodded he added, “and this boss was happy for you to travel on the local bus service? There are so many hold ups at the moment. He should be shot himself for endangering you like that.”

She shrugged, “I’m an adult and I make my own decisions. Now can we concentrate on getting out of her rather than you abusing me?”

He laughed, “if you think this is me abusing you you’re not going to tolerate the next few days or however long they keep us holed up.”

Lilah didn’t respond to that comment, didn’t know how. She was hoping that she was some sort of machine, someone who could tolerate this kidnap and all it may ensue. As it was she was a wimp, fear made her shake, made her feel physically sick and she was trying SO hard to fight it, trying so hard not to think about the next ten minutes, let alone any longer. But the truth was she had no idea how long this would last, and also that Quinn was possibly her only way out of here. The arrogant stranger who’d thrown himself into this path with her. He was saying it was her fault, that the men wanted her, but he was translating, it could just as easily be him they were after. But he mentioned Gavin’s name. He couldn’t have guessed that.

She tried to think of nice things, nice thoughts. Anything to drag herself away from this hell. But tears rolled down her face, at memories of her mother the last time she’d seen. They’d been at the bus stop in the quaint sleepy village in Cornwall that was home to her parents.  Her mother, Rose had spent even the last few moments trying to convince Lilah not to leave. But Lilah always knew best! There was no real insight into why Rose felt that way, other than that her parents missed her when she’d travelled and now it’d had all ended up like this! She swore if she ever made it home, if she got out alive she’d listen to her mother every time.

                “I didn’t mean to upset you Blondie, you’ve got to hold it together to try and get through this.” His voice cut through her thoughts pulling her back harshly to reality.

                “Hold it together?” she turned as much as she could to rear in his face, “I’m tied to a bloody chair, my shoulders feel like they’re about to pop out of their sockets they’ve been behind my back for so long, there are four men with shotguns outside, and I’m pinning my hopes on a man who calls me Blondie! What the hell have I got to be stressed about?”

He smiled at the sarcasm, the bravado on her face, “but you are blonde!”

She shook her head, “what’s happening now do you think?”

“They’ll be contacting your boss, asking for money I presume. At least then we might get out of here if he pays up...”

“And if he doesn’t?” she asked at a half whisper. She dreaded the answer, but she needed to know.

“Then I’ll have to get us out, the harder option, but still doable!” He grinned but it was not the most convincing of looks, but as Lilah looked at him she realised he wasn’t bigging it up or boasting, he really believed he could do it. Whilst she knew that it was a long shot, the thought that he was this confident, gave her some hope. He was dressed in thick khaki combats with a same colour shirt and a grubby white t-shirt underneath, his heavy boots had seen many miles. He was the epitome of a desert soldier. She felt a little easier.

                “So what are you doing out here in Africa? You don’t look like you’re here on holiday.”

He smiled, “I consult I suppose you’d call it, for security firms, businesses. I’ve been in Morocco, Algeria and Mauritania for a few months trying to help certain groups out. I was on my way to the airport to fly to the Middle East to meet with a sheik there.”

                “Are you supposed to be telling me this information?”

Again he smiled, “if we get out of this alive then I’ll have to kill you!”

That was another comment that she believed. Considering how scary this situation was she was amazed at how calm they both were, despite it all.

                “So are you in the military or something?”

He nodded, “I was in Special Forces, part of the reconnaissance team, I usually rescue than be rescued! Got a taste for the lifestyle even once I ‘retired’!”

She could see him running around the desert, dropping out of aeroplanes and shooting terrorists. He had that rugged look about him, and a face that had seen a lot of action. His tan didn’t look contrived, it was purely from being outdoors, a lot.

                “What if he doesn’t come through Quinn? What if he can’t or won’t pay?”

Quinn turned to her, “he has to Lilah, otherwise we’re going to need hell of a lot of luck.”

                “But you said...”

                “Blondie, trying to get you out of here won’t be a walk in the park, but I’ve got out of bleaker places. We need to bank on that man paying for his mistake, because it’s his fault that you’re here, and you’re fault I’m here!”

Lilah saw red, “I didn’t ask you to put your life on the line like some superhero. You chose that Quinn, not me! So don’t lay your guilt at my door as it’s hard enough to deal with my own shit at the moment!”

She closed her eyes, turning her head away from him, would she find some solace in sleep? Dreams of the luxurious house she’d left that morning or cliff top walks with her father and their three spaniels? But if she slept would waking to this hell on earth be worse than it felt now.

                “Lean on me!” Quinn announced.

                “I’d rather die!” she spat spitefully.

He sighed, “look, if you fall asleep and lean away from me you might topple the chair, the way your hands are linked behind the chair back, you’re likely to break your arm, these guys won’t untie you if you do to even rest it, let alone think about first aid, and it’ll be hell. Lean against me and at least we can support each other.”

It made sense, and if she was stubborn, she wasn’t stupid. So she leaned to rest her head on his shoulder, his warm and rather muscular shoulder. And to her surprise she drifted off.

 

A romantic meal with Gavin; that was where she drifted, they were both sat on the veranda, cicadas chirruping over the gentle sounds of Cole Porter that emanated from the stereo inside the lounge. The food was all her favourite things, huge buttery langoustines with a fresh salad, perfect fillet steak that Gavin had tentatively cooked himself on the gas barbeque, rare, pink in the middle. The meat fell apart in her mouth, the potato loaded with sour cream was divine. As Gavin emerged from the house with a large passion fruit and raspberry pavlova, he dropped to one knee, and as she looked down embedded in the cream on top of the dessert was a beautiful diamond ring.

Gavin smiled and opened his mouth....

                “Wake up Delilah...Delilah...” the hiss had an urgency to it. For a few seconds she rubbed her head into the shoulder she was resting against. Wanting Gavin back with his ring, with that smile....then she realised it had been a dream. She was really....shit. She opened her eyes and the dark room, the sparse barren walls, the pain in her shoulders, and now her hands, her feet tied to the chair legs. Gavin had been the dream and this was the reality.

Uncontrollably she started to scream, a loud unrecognisable noise, she could barely believe the sound was coming from her own lips.

                “Delilah! Please stop, it was a dream, that’s all, just a dream!”

Before she could take a breath, even try to control herself the smallest of the three men came over and rammed the butt of his gun down onto her left temple.  She had a second to shout before everything became black.

Quinn was finding the not knowing the hardest. Of all the things he’d ever done, the hardest single thing was watching her slumped against him barely breathing. Every now and again a small warmth would hint that she’d exhaled onto his arm. But other than that she’d not moved in what he guessed was three hours.

The kidnappers were angry; all he’d been able to make out was that the wonderful and frankly overrated Gavin had refused to pay anything.  He’d heard them talking and this wonderful Gavin was either denying that they had Lilah because of him being with her, or refusing to pay because of him. By posing as her partner he may have endangered her further. But what sort of man was this Gavin that he denied her at this very moment? Either stupid or jealous.

And there it was! Of course he was more than a boss, why else would she be so defensive of him, and he act like this? It made him even more despicable, knowing what she might be going through....he glanced down at her, the blood had stopped flowing from her head, a congealed mass evident in her otherwise beautiful hair, the textbook definition of dirty. On the bus her hair had been tied up in some sort of knot, but en route it had come loose and now hung around her shoulder, perfect except for the parch knotted and darkened by blood.  In sleep her face was angelic, full dark lips, long eyelashes that fanned her pale cheeks. Oh yes, she was a looker Quinn had to admit, and she had no idea. He was more concerned about what these ‘men’ would do to her if the ransom request fell through. She was too delicate for these animals, and if the worst happened, he shuddered as visions of the four swarthy men holding her down and violating her flashed through his mind, and him being sat tied up, forced to watch it. She would wish she’d died anyway if that happened...and it shocked him to realise that he felt the same way.

No he had to keep her strong, now that he was here, involved it was his job to keep her alert, and he knew that winding her up, angering her was probably the best way, no complacency when she was at his throat. With a sigh he moved his hand slightly, since being put on this seat he’d been rubbing the rope at his wrists over a screw on the leg of the chair, he wasn’t sure if he was getting anywhere, but undoing these ropes would be a start.

He’d worked out in his head that they were at the rear of a house, from the window earlier he’d seen out buildings, so they were definitely on a farm of some description, but in the mountains, that said deserted like nothing else. The muted sounds of TV came through the door from next door, what had began as some sort of drama had, from the grunts and groans, descended to US made porn.  Quinn had clocked with relief that three of the men had left an hour earlier, that had happened regularly through the day, and it was patterns like this that would be their downfall. He was going to get them out of this, he had to. Then he’d deal with that bastard Gavin, whoever he was. No one should treat a woman like that.

He'll Come Through - Chapter 2 - What do you want?

2 - What do you want?

Lilah had loved the time she’d spent in the Smith household. Maria was everything you’d hope for in a little girl, bright, funny and SO endearing. She’d inherited warm brown skin and curly black hair from her mother Imelda, Gavin had met her when he’d been working in Zimbabwe ten years earlier. She already had malaria but had never told him, Maria was two when Imelda died. Lilah sensed a light had gone out in Gavin’s life then, his eyes seemed to gloss over whenever he mentioned her. And so Maria had become his everything, but despite that, she wasn’t a spoilt or overindulged child. She’d enjoyed doing things with Lilah; they’d worked through basic schooling, then celebrated with swims in the pool, TV, or walks around the secure compound. Another five families had adjacent homes, so they’d visited other children too. When Gavin was home he would take them out to dinner, but he wasn’t happy with them really being around the City, the recent unrest was still simmering and he was concerned that they may need to evacuate if things got any worse.

So why had he let her make her own way like this if things were so bad? Lilah was struggling to control the shaking in her legs, she’d never felt fear like this, never been this close to a gun, this close to death.

Quinn pulled her into his arms, his lips pressed to her head, but rather than a secure protective gesture, he was using this chance to talk to her.

                “I don’t think this is random, they’re looking for someone, something. Do you have anything to hide blondie?” the whisper seemed to vibrate against her scalp.

She shook her head, “typical you think it’s me. It may be you.”

                “Well it’s not the locals and the boys seem to have been given the once over already. Leaves me and you.” She looked across and saw that he was right; the men were making their way strategically through the group.

No sooner had he said that, the four assailants stood between the group and Lilah watched in dismay as the thirteen people got back on to the coach. No one knew who she was, no one could warn anyone.

                “It’s a good sign they’ve let the others go...” he whispered as the driver with an apologetic yet relieved look started the engine. “Shit!” He shook his head, “they’ve just told the driver we left our hotel without paying a thousand dollar bill!”

Lilah snapped her head to look up at him, “what?”

                “They’re making this seem justified, that this may be a little rough form of justice, but that’s not unusual here.”

                “I’ve not been to a hotel!”

He shook his head, “me neither blondie, but it seems that they want one or both of us, without raising any suspicion.”

At that moment, three of the gun wielders came towards them, “What do you want?” Quinn asked them, “we haven’t got much money...”

 The butt of a gun was embedded in his stomach and he doubled over trying to catch his breath.

A voice prattled in what she presumed was Arabic as she was separated from Quinn. The two men flanking her were the shorter two; they probably guessed she was ill equipped to defend herself. As they bundled her into the sports car, she looked back briefly at Quinn and her fear, the nausea, the panic eased a little as he mouthed, “We’ll be ok.”

In the car her hands were tied and some sort of coarse sack, stanching of petrol was tugged over her head. She slumped into the seat. She always thought she was a panicker, that at the first sign of trauma she’d collapse in a neurotic heap, but here she was actually wondering how she could escape, how she could get home.

The terrain was uneven and the car had little in the way of suspension, every bump pained her, and the petrol smell was starting to make her dizzy, the journey seemed interminably long, it could have been five minutes or three hours, she had no idea. So she started to log what she did know. It had been just after midday when the bus had stopped. She’d had a large breakfast ninety minutes before the bus, so hopefully hunger wouldn’t be an issue, though she was parched. Water sounded like heaven. She was dressed to handle the cool evening. Her long linen trousers and tunic weren’t as thin and insubstantial as they could’ve been.

Her bags were on the bus! All her belongings. At least they could trace her, they’d know she was missing, the bus driver could tell the police? The embassy? Would someone come looking for her? She’d not had chance to tell her family, her friends that she was coming home. So no one would be waiting for her. She phoned her mother most weekends, but today was Tuesday, she’d not be suspicious until Sunday, maybe Monday. That was a week. A lot could happen in a week. Then she remembered the kidnappers, because that’s what they were now, had told them she was a thief, would they believe armed men over her innocence?

She’d been brought up in such a novel way that she’d always felt she stood out in a crowd, Delilah Dawson was anything but a discreet name for a growing girl, and holidays at festivals and summers in gypsy caravans were, she was sure, desirable for some, but she’d longed for a week on a Costa in Spain like her friends. So she headed to Uni, conforming, being normal. But after toeing the line and being conscientious she found she was rebelling against the stiffness of the normality she’d craved for so long. Her trip to Australia via Asia evolved from a month to more than twelve. And even this job had been her chance to avoid entering the straight world of teaching.

Now she empathised with her parents, and appreciated every moment of her childhood. The way they’d followed their hearts, strived to live in a way they felt was natural and untainted. That was why she’d been surprised at their reticence over this job, this trip. Her parents were so un-conservative, and to think that a post unrest country would be such a bad choice of location to work was she thought out of character for them, but it seems as usual they were right. If she ever got out of here, out of this she would definitely listen to every word that her mother said.

Tears tracked down her face; stinging cheeks sore from the coarse sacking, how the hell had this happened? And where was Quinn? She laughed to herself ironically; this stranger was her only hope!

By the time the car stopped she had regained her composure. She responded to the single word instructions, “out”, “walk” and “step”, and the heat of the day gave over to coolness and dark, she could tell that despite the dense material over her head.

With a shove she was pushed down into a seat and the bag was pulled from her.  Blinking madly ignoring the pain from the chafing against her cheeks and forehead, she looked around. The four men were still masked, but on the chair a foot to the right of her was Quinn, but his journey appeared to have been more problematic than hers, blood leaked from his right temple, his jaw was bruised and his shirt torn.  Was it wrong in this precarious and dangerous position to note his rather toned physique? She smiled to herself despite it all and thought hell if this is the end of me I may as well enjoy the little things I can!

The four men gathered at the far side of the room and talked in hushed tones.

                “You ok?” Quinn asked turning to look at her. His eyes searching hers for signs that she’d been injured, damaged by these men.

She nodded, “better than you. That looks painful!”

                “I’ve had worse!”

Worse? She looked around the room. This was some sort of derelict house, open window frames had been secured with metal bars, the exposed brick, so modern in Europe was no fashion statement, this was primitive. She doubted there was even running water here.

                “Who are you Quinn? And if they’re after me why are you here?”

He laughed then winced, that jaw looked nasty, “let’s just say a leggy blonde like yourself in a country full of darker skinned women wouldn’t last ten minutes here.”

“I’m NOT a leggy blonde!” She interrupted her anger increasing as he laughed.

He shrugged, “you are from where I’m sitting! And you need help, and there’s a gentlemen in me who couldn’t resist helping!” She huffed, gentleman? Oh yes! “I understand Arabic, though they don’t know that. They’re talking about ransom or a political statement, or both. I have no one willing to pay a ransom for me. Do you?”

                “My parents run a pottery school in Cornwall, object to taxes and meat eating, and make their own clothes. Hardly an untapped source of gold, my boss...” she felt her eyes fill with tears at the thought of Gavin trying to find her, how Maria would miss her. “Won’t the government help?”

He shrugged, “depends if they find out, they’re talking about calling someone, I’m trying to hear who they mean.”

As he strained to listen she studied him, so different from Gavin. The older man had beautiful skin, groomed hair and an immaculate appearance, even his moustache was trimmed neatly. He had long delicate fingers with tidy nails. She imagined Quinn’s nails would be like the rest of him, dirty and rough. He hadn’t shaved in days; his blue eyes were the only clean part of him and shone out from the grubbiness of his face, his shirt was worn and tattered before these men had ripped it. Saying that he could be some multi millionaire in disguise, he could so easily be the one they were after.

She thought back to the day she’d arrived, the day Gavin and Maria had met her at the airport. She’d been so optimistic, so happy. Within days she felt as though she’d taken on a new life. She almost felt like Maria’s mother, and when she retold their day to Gavin each evening, she felt even more like part of the family.

It had become even more true to life a few days later when she was having a midnight swim, trying to beat the dry heat that was keeping her awake. As she swam a few lengths, she felt the disturbance in the water of someone joining her, and stopping she turned to see Gavin swimming towards her.

Their coming together had been instant, mutual and explosive. Within seconds of him kissing her she was clinging to him as he entered her strongly. That night....she still sighed at the memory, they’d made love so many times in so many places, Gavin admiring her, complimenting her, she so overwhelmed she could barely speak.

Since then their meets had been secretive and too far apart for Lilah’s liking. The lack of company, the lack of interesting activities meant she spent most of her days and nights fantasising about him. He was more evasive after the first night, worried that Maria would discover them in some form of tryst, trying to keep a distance but she wasn’t good at holding back and did initiate so many incidents. He’d not complained though, he enjoyed it as much as she did. But she knew he wasn’t thinking long term that he didn’t want another woman after Imelda.

Did he miss her? She was still stunned that he’d told her to leave without organising a safe route home, she had a waft of nausea at the sudden realisation that he left her to this, he made her vulnerable. He’d not looked after her. But then how was he to know?

                “Delilah?” a hissed whisper from her right caused her to snap around to Quinn. His jaw was even darker, the blood coursing down his forehead seemed to have eased a little, but he still looked dreadful, “Do you know someone called Gavin?”

With a heavy heart and more surges of fear and panic she nodded, “he’s my boss...” And lover!