Chapter five page three

Stacie’s frantic voice rang in my ears.  “I have been calling and calling.  Where did you go last night?  You better not still be with that man.  Where are you?  I am coming to you right now.”

“Stacie, I am fine.  Please relax a little.”

“Relax?  How can I relax when you were threatened by gun point in a bar, with a strange man and then you disappear?”

“Well, I am fine now.  I am still at the same hotel, but I am not registered under my own name.”

“You’re not registered ... what?”

“Just come to the hotel.  Stop at the front desk and tell them your name and they will direct you to me.  Now, what are you wearing?”

“Wearing?  Are you insane?”

“No.  I need to tell the front desk who you are and I thought it would help if I described what you were wearing.”

“Cathie, this is so far past normal.  You know that right?  I have to register my outfit with your hotel before they will tell me which room you are in?”

“Stacie, listen carefully to me.  And please do not freak out.”  I took a deep breath knowing this might be a mistake.  “Those men with guns came back last night and broke into my hotel room.  They didn’t hurt me.  They just gave me a message for Quinn.”

“You were in the room when they broke in?”

“Well, yes, sort of.”

“What do you mean sort of?”

“I was in the shower.”  Opps.  I shouldn’t have said that.

“Oh my goodness Cathie!  Are you alright?  Where was Quinn?”

Think before you speak now!  “How about you tell me what you are wearing?  Then I can let the hotel staff direct you to my suite.  We can talk more then.  Okay?”

“Your suite?”

“Stacie!”

“Oh yes.  Sorry I am wearing a chartreuse blouse with a Cerulean skort.”

“A what?  Never mind, I will tell them yellow and blue.”

“Yellow and blue does not even come close!”

“See you soon Stac.”  I hung up the phone and retreated to the bathroom to clean up.  I couldn’t help wondering what has happened to me.  I was the one who taught her all the true names of colours.  Now it seemed so irrelevant and time wasting. 

After washing my face I went in search of an outfit for the day.  That’s when I realized I had neglected another tell-tale Cathie quirk.  My clothes were still folded in my suitcase.  That must be a first for me.  Usually I rescue my clothes from the tight-cramped space of my suitcase before I even check out the room. 

  

Pulling out a creased cotton blouse and a pair of denim capris I noticed how off kilter my whole existence was here in France.  Almost like I had done more than cross an Ocean, I had crossed into a different dimension of reality.  The things that would have messed me up and spoiled my mood were now inconsequential.  

Even my dream of Mitch, though it was disturbing at the time, held no entangling magic over me.  I felt free.  I felt safe.  I felt certain I would hear from Quinn tonight.

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chapter five page two

The knock at the suite door woke me from my sleep.  

There was a brief moment where I did not know where I was.  As I scanned the room, taking in all the rich, dark fabric flowing from the ceiling to the floor, I remembered.  It was like a bad dream as it flooded back to my mind.

However not the bad dream I had last night.  I dreamt of Mitch.  Nothing about that was out of the ordinary, but something was different this time.  Mitch didn’t look the same. 

Usually when I dream of him, he is dressed in his black jeans and his button down dress shirt.  The sleeves are rolled up a third of the way revealing a hint of the dark hair that covers his forearms.  His leather watch I gave him our first Christmas together rests perfectly on his left wrist.  Over his right shoulder is his computer satchel.  He is dressed the same as the last day I saw him.  He was heading out the door that morning to meet with a group of investors for a building he was proposing.  

Instead of wishing him luck I pointed out that he should put on a tie or a sport coat.  He kissed my forehead, ignoring my criticism and said 'je t'aime mon amour'.  Just the same as he did every morning. 

However, last night he was dressed in something more colourful.  I think it was yellow.  It was hard to see exactly what it was because he was fuzzy.  There was no definite outline of him.  He was just a blur.  I chased him all night trying to see him more clearly and hear his words again.  But when he spoke it was garbled and muffled somehow.  It frightened me to think I might forget the sound of his voice.  Or even forget the look in his blue eyes as he leaned towards me to kiss my forehead.  What if I never see that again?

Then the knock came again reminding what woke me.  I stumbled out of bed and grabbed the robe lying across the back of a winged-back chair.  When I reached the door I fiddled with my long hair throwing it quickly into a knot at the back of my head.

I opened the door and there in front of me was a silver cart covered with a white linen cover.  Officer Clemens came into view.  “Bonjour, Mademosielle.  Comment ca va?”

“Fine, um, bien.  Merci, et vous?”

“Bien, merci.”

I wheeled the cart inside and closed the door.  The curiosity was tugging at me.  I whipped off the linen cover to reveal a metal covered tray with steam markings on the top.  A single red rose lying across the top with a perfectly hand scripted note.

Instantly I fetched the note and the rose and went towards the triangle of couches in the room.  The rose rested just below my nose as I read the handwritten note. 

Good Morning My Darling (Ma Cherie).

Enjoy your day.  I will call you at your 

hotel tonight.  Don’t forget to call your 

     sister – as she   will not be able to reach            

you through the front desk.   J'adore.

       Quinn

For a moment the fairy tale became real again.  He sent me a rose, a note and breakfast.  What a sweet gesture.  I rose to my feet to check on what the meal was that smelled so wonderful, when the thought accosted me.  Stacie!

I ran for the phone.  Quinn was right.  She would have tried to call me through the hotel’s front desk, but I am no longer registered here under my own name.  In fact I do not even know who I am registered under.  All I know is that my sister will be having a cow.

The phone was answered on the second ring.  “Allo.”

It was Neale.  “Bonjour Neale.  This is Cathie.  How are you?”

“Cathie!   Where are you?  Stacie is frantic trying to locate you.  She has gone to the police already.”

Neale’s accent could not hide the worry in his voice.  “I am fine.  Can you reach her?”

“Yes, she has my cell phone with her.  I will call her.”

“Actually Neale, could you give me the number?  I will just call her myself.  She will want to hear my voice.  Besides it might calm her down better.”

“You are right about that, however I would not hold my breath on the calming down part.”  He chuckled.

I scribbled his cell number down on a pad of paper by the phone.  “Merci beaucoup Neale.  Au revoir.”

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Chapter five page one

I was completely overcome with the view in the room.  Straight across from where we entered was like a large production stage with a long flowing curtain.  I assumed behind it was a wall of windows, covered from ceiling to floor with plush burgundy fabrics.  As the ambassador pulled each of them aside it revealed I was right.  As well as an amazing view of the Paris city line below us.  It was breathtaking.  I walked right up and stared over the view unable to grasp the reality of the moment.  We must be at the top floor.  That would mean this is the ... penthouse.

As the thought planted in my mind I looked from side to side of me.  The room seemed to go on forever.  To my right was a large sitting area with three couches.  Count them – one, two three.  At home in Canada, I have one couch and an interesting, lumpy love seat that no one wants to sit in for very long.  But here, in France, I have three couches in my hotel room!  This must be a dream.

Behind the sitting area was a large painting of the Eiffel tower lit up at night.  It was eye-catching and mesmerizing in its beauty.  To the right of that was an open doorway and then a mirrored bar.  It had two high bar stools up against a marbled counter filled with a magnificent display of glassware.  

Lining the mirrored walls behind the bar was a shelf of antique coloured glass bottles in many different shapes and sizes.  The burgundy colour of the window fabrics was continued throughout with the bar stools coverings and the hand towels on the bar.

When I turned to my left I saw another open doorway and a hallway leading away from the room we stood in.  There was a closet along the hallway and many more painted art works.  I turned to Quinn, who stood at the doorway with the Ambassador, seemingly unmoved by the grandeur of where we were.

I had to remind myself that this man lives in the most amazing City in perhaps the World.  He isn’t from some hick little town like me.   I need to assume that this isn’t out of the norm for him. 

When he finished with the hotel staff he closed the double doors and turned towards me.  His hands slid silently into his pockets and he looked me over very carefully.  I was frozen in my spot under his scrutiny.  Speechless.

Slowly he sauntered closer to me.  “We have a conversation to complete.”  His voice rumbled with a low sultry sound.  It made my head spin.

“Really?  What would that be about?”

“You.  And me.”  By now he was standing toe-to-toe with me.  His eyes glistened with flecks of gold that made my heart dance.  “Now tell me, when and where did we meet?”

“I-I, um, am not sure exactly.”  It was hard to decipher which made me panic more – his closeness or his probing questions.

“You’re not sure, Cherie?”

I shook my head back and forth.

Quinn placed his finger under my chin lifting my face to a better angle.  “I do not remember you when I look at you.  But, I feel like I know you when I get close to you.”  He paused long enough to bend down and kiss my lips ever so gently.  “It makes me wish I did know you Cherie.”

My lips tingled from his.  The feeling rippled through my whole body.  It nearly made me go weak until he let me go and walked away from me towards the door.

“You’ll be safe here tonight.”  His all business voice shocked me back into reality.  “The Ambassador assured me there would be a security guard arriving soon.”  He opened the door and looked out.  “Come, Cherie.”  He said as he waved me towards him.

I couldn’t move.  Now more than before, I was lost and confused.  Nothing made sense.

“Cathie?”  Quinn stepped out of view behind the closed side of the double doors and then returned a second later followed by a uniformed guard.  He spoke French to the man who kept nodding his head in response.  “This is Officer Clemens.  He will be posted outside your door all night.”

The man offered his hand to me but I was still stuck in my place.  I nodded to him but refused to move anything else.  I think Quinn noticed my hesitation because he walked towards me.  “Cathie, if you need anything he will help you.  He understands English.  He can call me ...”.

That was the moment I woke up.  Quinn said ‘he’.  The man we both just met can call Quinn but he never mentioned anything about me calling him.  Suddenly my reverie ended.  My legs moved as my heart closed off.

“Merci, Monsieur Clemens.  Je m’appelle Cathie.”

Both men looked surprised at my French but I didn’t care.  After a gentlemanly handshake the Officer returned to his post and Quinn closed the door behind him.  “What’s wrong Cherie?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t call me that.”  Not really the truth, but a good decoy I hope.  “Nothing is wrong.  I am just feeling tired and jet-lagged.”

Quinn walked towards me and I backed up a step.  Understanding registered in his eyes.  He stopped approaching me.  “I need you to see this from my perspective.  I did not know you before tonight.  And since I met you, I-“.

I interrupted him again.  “You don’t have to explain.  I understand that you aren’t invested in this.”

“This?  What is ‘this’ exactly?”  He rubbed his eyes as if he was tired or frustrated.  Probably the latter.  “You didn’t let me finish my sentence.  Since I met you a few hours ago, your life has been threatened more than once.  I can’t stand that.”  He stepped closer slowly.  “I don’t live like this, Cher-uh, Cathie.  I am not some James Bond character in a movie.  I might not be able to protect you from Dean.”

“Maybe you don’t need to protect me.  Maybe, just maybe, I am here to protect you.”  I wanted to cry.  It would be so easy to let the tears flow hoping they would wash away the ache that was building.  But I can’t.  I won’t.

“You are like an Angel from heaven, aren’t you?”  Quinn said with a sexy smirk on his lips.

“This isn’t funny.”

“Non.  You are correct.  It is very serious and you are too involved.  Which, is why I must go.  Those guns were real and I don’t want you in any more danger.”

“Look, I agree – we should probably not get involved.  However those guns were for you.  Not me.  This room should be for your protection, not mine.”

“Don’t think for a second that Dean would not hurt you.”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know that?  Oh yes, I forgot.  You see visions.”  His mocking voice echoed in the room.  It bounced off the emptiness I was feeling.  How ludicrous this must all seem to him.  How much lenience would I offer to a crazy person spouting the future that suddenly entered my life?  None.  Quinn has been far more understanding and receptive than I would be if the tables were turned.

I offered my hand to him in a gesture of normalcy and decorum.  “Yes, well I haven’t seen anything new, so... it has been nice getting to know you Quinn.  Thank you for your help this evening.”

Quinn didn’t look like he bought my act, but he approached me with his hand extended to meet mine.  He gently took my hand in his, but instead of shaking it, he turned it over slightly and then raised it to his awaiting lips.  “En chante Cherie.  The pleasure has been all of mine.  I do hope I will have the honour of meeting up with you again under much better circumstances.”

He held my hand suspended at his mouth for a long second before his eyes met with mine.  “Please do not misunderstand my motivations.”  Then he released my hand and headed for the door.  Without any forewarning or hesitation he slipped out and let the double door close quietly behind him.

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Chapter four, page three

The bathroom door clicked shut before I allowed myself to breathe fully.  Then like a gate was opened the tears fell from my eyes.  The fear I should have felt in their presence finally arrived and I nearly lost all the strength in my legs.  Quinn’s arms slowly turned me into his chest and he held me, giving me all the strength I needed.

“Where did ...”.  Quinn started to speak but I shushed him.

I motioned for him to wait one minute.  I stepped out of the shower and wrapped up in a terry cloth robe from behind the door.  With caution I opened the bathroom door and stepped out for a quick look.  There was no sign of Dean or his men and the now battered hotel room door was closed again.

When I turned around Quinn was right behind me, looking rather gorgeous dripping wet.

“Cherie, uh ... I mean, Cathie, thank you.”  He pulled me to him again for another hug.

It was there in his arms that everything made sense.  I knew I had been here before.  I knew his touch and his mannerisms.  There was nothing unfamiliar about him to me.  How can that be?

Urgently I pushed away from his hold.  “Even Dean knew me.  Why don’t you know me?”

Quinn’s eyes moved with concern.  His hands dropped from my waist and he stepped back.  “I was going to mention that same thing.  Why does Dean know you?”

“I don’t care why he knows me I just can’t understand you.”

Quinn threw his arms up in the air.  “Understand me?”  The sudden anger in his voice filled my mind.  This isn't where I saw this conversation heading.

He turned around and headed for the bathroom.  When he returned he had a towel that he rubbed fiercely over his dirty-blonde hair.  He stepped towards me.  “This conversation is not over, but I have more important matters to attend to.  Go change into dry clothes.”

His voice was not angry, but it was not kind either.  I questioned my actions to see where I had upset him.  Dean’s suggestive manner did give the impression that we knew each other before.  And it didn’t really imply we were meeting for coffee dates.  However, I have no recollection of Dean in that way.  I only saw him in the pictures that filled my mind.  It was Quinn that was more than a picture.  He was very real to me in every sense.  It just doesn’t add up.

I found my suitcase by the door and grabbed a fresh set of clothes.  As I fixed myself up in the bathroom I couldn't hold at bay the fear that I had angered Quinn.  Yet, if he is telling the truth that he doesn’t know me, I shouldn't be surprised if he would want to get off this circus ride.  It didn’t feel real.  It was like the action movies Mitch would watch.  There were always too many guns and fights and not enough relationship in them for me.  That’s it ... I’m in my own bad version of a Hollywood Flick.

Suddenly I heard Quinn’s thick English accent roll off fluent French to someone.  It is enough to confuse even the clearest of minds.  I peeked out the bathroom door to see him standing across the room with his back to me dripping on the carpet while he talked on the room phone.  I could catch parts of his conversation, but there were several differences in the nuances of his French that I am accustomed to in Canada.

He spoke forcefully to the person on the other end of the line, but maintained a very calm and professional manner.  He was requesting a new room I think.  Pour sa sécurité.  For my safety.

Before long the room was swarming with hotel staff.  They checked out the broken door frame from being thrust open by Dean’s men.  Finally a very distinguished looking fellow approached Quinn, offering his hand to him.

“Bonjour, je suis Hans Fritzer.  I’m the hotel ambassador.  I would like to offer you a new room, compliments of the hotel.  Would you please follow me?  The bellman will bring your luggage.”

Quinn turned to me and offered his arm to me.  It was very debonair.  Of course I accepted without any hesitation.

Quinn chatted in French with the man all the way through the hallways and the elevator ride which seemed to last forever.  I paid little attention to them as I was so taken by the proximity to Quinn’s side.  His sleeve clung to his arm from the wetness but it didn't bother me.  He laid his hand atop of mine and gently stroked my fingers draping from his arm.  It consumed my concentration.

When the elevator finally reached the end of its travels we stepped out into a large atrium decorated with magnificent artwork and fine porcelain vases.  The opulence took my breath away.  

Quinn guided me along following the Ambassador towards a large Oak framed set of doors.  There was a uniformed man standing beside the doors who opened them inwards as soon as we reached him.  I overheard the Ambassador tell Quinn something about a security guard arriving within the hour.  Quinn squeezed my fingers and pressed my arm against his side.

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Chapter four, page two

Just then the bathroom door was thrust open with a large bang.  I spun around and pulled the shower curtain open enough to reveal my wet head and bare shoulders.

“Get out of here!”  I screamed as if I had no idea there would be men with guns standing in my hotel bathroom.

The pony-tail man stood aiming his gun at me.  He lowered it slightly as he took in what he probably assumed was a naked woman in a shower.  His eyebrows bobbed with his imagination.  “Someone wants to see you.”  He sputtered out in broken English.

The next voice that spoke did not come from our Pony-tail toting mobster.  It was a deeper voice; one that rang with elegance and sophistication.  “You are looking lovely as always, Cathie.” 

The pony-tail man stepped aside to allow Dean to enter the crowded bathroom.  Although in my mind I had seen Dean and I knew it was him, his appearance still caught me off guard.

He was a solid man with wide shoulders which seemed to be tightly packed inside a white silk shirt.  His dark eyes matched his almost black hair.  It was cut short but you could still see the tell tale signs of unruly curls.

“You have graced us with a visit again, Darling.”  His voice held many suggestive cues as he watched me with his penetrating eyes.

I felt naked.  I felt sick.  There must have been a sign as Quinn’s hand came and rested on my hip.  I was thankful he was there.

“I hadn’t included you on my itinerary.” 

Dean smiled a mischievous smirk.  “Well, we don’t always get what we want, now do we dear?”  Then he stepped closer.  “Unless you are me.  And what I want is your boyfriend.”  There was no joking in his voice or his eyes now.

I pretended to think for a second.  “Hmm, I’m afraid you will have to be more specific than that.”

“You know exactly who I am talking about.  The charming and devilishly handsome young man you entered the hotel lobby with tonight.  Besides, who else could I mean?  How many other men do you have stashed around here, my Dear?”

"Well, for starters I don’t have any men stashed around here.”  Oh, I hope that isn’t counted as a lie.  It is indirectly false.  After all, ‘stashed’ sounds more like hoarding something into a small tight hiding spot.  Quinn is almost in plain view.  Almost?

“Let’s not be coy, Darling.  You know what happens when I don’t get my way.  I want you to give your boyfriend a message from me.”  Dean began to speak out the message when I rudely cut him off.

“Sorry Dean.  I am not your personal secretary or his.”

Dean stepped right up to the shower curtain and every muscle in me tightened on high alert.  I felt Quinn’s hands squeeze tight around my waist as well.  It felt like he’d be prepared to remove me from my post if Dean reached out for the curtain.

“Cathie, Cathie.  You were always too bold for your own good.  Do not cross me Darling.  I prefer to keep our relationship fun and adventurous.  It would spoil my day if I had to teach you a lesson in manners.”  His eyes bore into mine with a deep passion.  However it wasn’t the kind a passion a woman would ever dream about.  It was a dark and twisted passion that revolved entirely around power and conquering.  At that moment, I hoped that I never had a past with this man as he did imply.

“Dean.  Say your message and then get out.  Though, I will not promise you that Quinn will get it.”

He didn’t move or speak.  He watched me with intensity.  Then his head bobbed very discreetly to the right.  Instantly Pony-tail man stepped into action walking towards me with his gun poised.  He came right to the side of Dean watching me over the barrel of his long hand gun.

I had never seen a real gun close up before.  You'd think it would fill me with fear.  I should have tossed the curtain back to reveal what they wanted to see in order to save my life.  But I didn’t.  I felt safe.  I felt secure.  Strangely I felt I knew exactly what I was doing.  I wasn’t going to die.  It was just an idle threat.

So I spoke with authority.  “Speak your message and then get out of my bathroom now.  And take your thugs with you.”

Dean and I stared at each other for a moment and then he released his henchmen with a slight nod of his head again and they all left the room.  At the doorway, Dean paused and turned to see me again.  His eyes softened slightly.  “Please tell Quinn to come find me.  Preferably before I find him.  On a nicer note, I hope I will see you again during your stay in our wonderful City.  Perhaps after this mess with Quinn is cleaned up, you will allow me to take you to dinner?”

Where he gets the audacity to ask me for a date, I do not know.   “Not likely”, was the nicest response I could think of.

He took one last seductive glance before turning to leave.  “Too bad, Darling.”

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Chapter four, page one

“Quinn!”  I shouted down the hall forgetting the late hour.  So then I lowered my voice to a loud whisper.  “Quinn, come here quickly.”

He bolted down the hall to the window where I stood.  By the time he reached me the men had disappeared from my view. 

“What is it?”  Quinn said.

I grabbed his wrist and pulled him quickly behind me to my hotel room door. 

“Tell me what is happening, Cathie.”

A heavy breath of worry escaped my lips before my words.  “Dean’s men are here.”  I fumbled for my room card-key.  “I saw them in the foyer.  Do you think they followed us?  You should hide.”  My rapid-fire responses came out with a fury.  My card would not register and my frustration grew.

Quinn’s hand covered mine to stop my frenzy and then he slowly slid the card out from my fingers.  Deftly he swiped the card and opened the door.

His slow movements were irritating me as I wanted to hide him quickly before the men saw him.  As I shoved on past him into the room, he grabbed my upper arm swinging me to a halt in front of him.

 “Cathie, you need to stop this.  I do not need a saviour.”

His words felt like a firm brick wall slammed into my face.  “Don’t say that!  Everyone needs a Saviour!”  I forced myself to calm down before I continued.  “Besides I am not your Saviour; I am your friend.”

Our eyes met and held each other for too long considering our newest dilemma.  However I was entranced.  There was love in his eyes; a glimmer of something like love anyway.  I couldn’t resist drinking it in.  The hint of gold in his topaz eyes seemed to dance and sparkle with hopeful yearning.  There was nowhere else I wanted to be at that moment.  That is until the ding of the elevator startled both of us.

Using my foot to close the hotel door behind us, I whispered for him to go hide in the bathroom.  He resisted me until the thump on the hotel door forced him into action.  As Quinn hurried off to the hotel bathroom I stole a moment to pray for God’s help.  As I closed my eyes a picture of Dean’s guys standing in the bathroom of my hotel waving a gun around filled my head.  Within the next second I found myself opening the bathroom door.

Quinn stood open-mouthed looking at me.  “What?”  He asked as the look of surprise washed over his white face.

I whispered loudly to him, “They are going to come in here.”  Pulling back the shower curtain with force, I motioned for him to get in.  When the idea finally registered he shook his head in protest.

“Non, non.  I will not put you in jeopardy to save my own skin.”  Quinn stepped towards the bathroom door.

I grabbed his arm just as the thump of the hotel room door being forced open reached us.

“Get in!”  I said.

He finally followed my direction and I crawled in after him.  Quickly I snapped the curtain closed around us.  I gave him a second’s notice before I pulled the water tap on to full and released the shower spray.

In order to play the scene well, I pulled my left arm through the neckline of my shirt.  Quinn couldn’t stay quiet any longer.  He grabbed for my last arm as I tried to pull it through.  “What are you doing?”  His voice was raised above a whisper to be heard over the pounding water of the shower.

“They are coming in here so I need to give you cover.  Don’t worry I am not fully undressing.”  I pushed my arm all the way through finally.  “Stand completely behind me.”  I turned to see his confused face.  “And no matter what they do or say, don’t let them know you are here.”

Quinn whirled me around to be face to face with him again.  The shower head had water tumbling down onto both of our shoulders which made errant drops of water bounce in every conceivable direction.  Through the crazy spray of water I saw determination building in his eyes.  His head shook from side to side with the tiniest of movements.

“I cannot let you put yourself in harm’s way for me.  It is not right.”  His voice sounded broken and I longed to heal it; to refresh him with my love.  

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Chapter three, page two

Quinn stepped back from the trunk like I had slapped him with a mighty force.  In fact, his face held much the same kind of expression as if I had.  His hands went up in mock surrender.

“Whoa.  I don’t know what is happening here but now it has gone too far.”  He continued to step back until he came up hard against the vehicle parked behind him.

“Quinn, listen.  Dean is coming and he plans on hurting you.  He won’t ...”

He stepped forward and interrupted my words with force.  “I want to know how you know all this!  Do you work for him, or something?”  All the decency and gentleness drained from his eyes as he demanded my answers.

“No” was all I could muster to say under his intense scrutiny.

He articulated each word with great force as he stepped into my space.  “How do you know he is coming here?  Or that he has a gun?  Or that he plans to hurt me?”

Just before any words could squeak their way out a red truck pulled up right beside us blocking any escape Quinn might have planned.  The truck came so close that even Stacie was unable to open her car door.  She squealed out the window demanding they move their truck.

“Well, well, well.  Look what we have here.  The Boss will be delighted to know that you both were waiting here patiently for us to arrive.”  The man’s voice was thick and taunting.  His long, black hair was pulled back into a tight pony-tail that hung slightly over his shoulder.  Quinn shuddered slightly as he turned to greet the man leaning from his pimped-up truck window.

“Evening, Mate” came Quinn’s strained welcome.  “We were just discussing Dean.  Is he with you?”

The man winked at Quinn and then pulled a small pistol up from his lap far enough that we could see.  “Dean was hoping you would join him tonight for a night cap.”  The sarcastic drip to his French voice sent shivers up my spine. 

Quinn must have sensed it because he instinctively pulled me close in behind him.  I leaned into his back and felt his strength and his courage roll over me like an ocean wave.

Quinn spoke in a hushed voice.  “Where would that be?”

“Once you and Cathie get into the truck then I will feel at liberty to share those details.”  Now his once smirking face morphed into a tight growl.  “So, get in!”

My mind was reeling.  How does he know my name when Quinn doesn’t?  ‘Lord I need help sorting all this out tonight.  Where are you?’

Then like a silent answer to my prayer came the words, ‘blue satchel’.  Immediately I dove into the trunk to retrieve it and was accosted by armed men that appeared out of the darkness like thieves.  Quinn jumped to protect me and was thumped on the back of the head with the butt of a gun.  I retreated with my hands in the air.

“Stop!  Wait!  I have a bag in the trunk for Dean.  It is blue.”  I gasped for a breath.  “It is the twenty-three Grand that Quinn still owes.”  Everybody froze in their position until the man at the truck window nodded for one of his men to grab the bag.

A tall, slender man on my right pushed me aside and retrieved the bag.  He cautiously opened the rope tied top and grinned from ear to ear as some money toppled out.  “Ohhh”, he said with a slight warble, “the Boss is going like this.”  Then he cinched it up tight and tossed it to the truck in one swift movement.

“Get in, Lovebirds!”  The pony-tailed man shouted and motioned towards the back door of the truck cab.

Quinn tightened everything and pulled me snug to his side again.  “No thanks, Mate.  Dean has his money now and I expect that means he'll be leaving me alone.  This isn’t a mob movie were in.”

My heart skipped a beat as the words rolled off his tongue without a hint of fear.  He has always been a gallant man.

Next I felt Quinn’s body pressed against mine as he took a step backwards, moving me along like his puppet.  He walked slow and precise until we were both on the sidewalk beside Stacie’s car.

He opened the door without taking his eyes off the man in the truck and then slid me into the car before he scooted in beside me.  Stacie’s car was still boxed in by the large red truck but Quinn directed her to start her engine anyway.  We all held our breath waiting for ‘Pony-tail’s’ next move.  Thankfully, the red truck revved loudly and sped off down the dark road.

There was a moment of stillness in the car until a small sniffle came from the front seat.  I reached over the seat back and hugged my sister to comfort her.

“Sorry”, she sniffled again, “I am really scared.”  Her sobs came stronger as her body rocked in my arms.

“It’s okay Stac, I’m really scared too.  Thank God no one was hurt.”  I fought back my own tears and turned my head slightly to be sure Quinn was still there.  He had been perfectly quiet since he crawled into the car behind me.  His eyes were misty and his face was ashen white.  Without a moment’s hesitation I released one of my arms from around Stacie and clasped Quinn’s hand in mine.

He turned his face away from me and stared out of the car window.  Finally Stacie started up the engine and slowly entered the flow of traffic away from the pub.  There wasn’t a single word spoken the whole way to my hotel.

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Chapter three, page one

Chapter Three

As we stepped off the curb to cross the street, I was flooded with fear.  The image of a red truck raised up on its axles came across my mind.  Then like a recorded message, played the words ‘get Quinn out’.  Wrenching my wrist from Stacie’s grip, I bolted back into the pub. 

It took me a few moments to locate him.  His smile was radiating against some skinny fake-blonde with way too much make-up and not enough clothing.  She was definitely not his type.  However she was being pulled in by his tractor beam smile and intoxicating accent.

“Quinn, sorry to interrupt,”  I offered my apology to both of them.  Then I lowered myself to his level.  “You need to come with me now.”

He blinked once and then again as he searched for words perhaps.  “Cherie, thank you but I am quite happy here.  Perhaps, you should rejoin ...”

Grabbing his wrist tightly I tried to pull him out of his chair.  “It isn’t safe for you here.  You must come with me.”  My eyes attempted to plead with him where my words failed.

He stood and I felt relieved for a moment until he turned to his ‘date’.  “Will you excuse me a moment.  I will be right back.”  His perfect tone and tenor made her bubble in her seat.  It wasn’t fair that he had the same effect on her.  She wasn’t his type – I was.

Quinn removed my grip from his wrist and clasped my hand tight in his.  Pulling me through the crowd, he made his way to the hallway of the washrooms.  He turned slowly to me with an odd expression on his face.  His eyes were downcast as he examined my hand that was interlaced with his.  He turned my hand over and studied each side of it.  The temperature in my hands rose from his attention and my heart swelled under his awareness of me.

“Cherie”, he spoke so soft I almost had to read his lips.  “You need to find your sister and let her take you to see a doctor.”

His words cut through me like a knife.  I snatched my hand from within his with lightening speed.  My eyes blurred with my own tears from his complete rejection. 

“Cherie, it is okay.  She will help you.”  He offered with a gentle and reassuring voice.

“My name is Cathie and I do not need a doctor.”  My intensity wore off quickly and I took a moment to gather my thoughts as I stared into his eyes, liquid with compassion.   A deep breath finally surfaced and I leaned into his ear.

“I know you don’t believe me.  I can’t truly explain it myself but please listen very carefully.  Dean is on his way here in his red truck.  He has a gun. ” I felt his shoulder stiffen beneath me.  “You may have no reason to believe me or trust me but I want to help you.”  I leaned back to my place and watched his eyes colour over in flecks of dark gold and his jaw muscle flex.

Once again he dug deep into my soul looking for answers.  “How do you know this stuff?”  His voice was soft and pensive.

“I don’t know.  I just do.”  I took his hand again and re-entered the chaos of the party scene.  We headed for the exit.  Once we were outside I saw Stacie leaning against her car hood across the street.  The rusty old car nearly looked sleek in the blackness of the night.  I could tell it was her as her angry eyes lit up the distance between us.

I pulled Quinn along behind me and she scowled even deeper and hung her head in disgust.  “He’s not coming home with you.”  She spoke through her hands that rubbed her eyes along the bridge of her nose.

“I know Stacie.  But can you pop the trunk for me?”

Her head shot up and her eyes scanned Quinn desperate for some answers.  I felt him shrug his shoulders behind me as I continued to drag him around the back of her four door car.  My fingers drummed on the rear hood as I impatiently hinted for her to comply.  In a noisy release of exasperation she popped open her trunk and then slid into the driver’s seat, closing the door behind her.

The blue satchel was right where I pictured it would be.  It was a nylon material that bulged out in so many different directions, ready to burst its contents.  When I reached for it there was a groan from my throat as it was heavier than I was prepared for.  

Quinn reached around me and pulled it closer to the edge of the trunk.  “What’s this Cherie?”  His accent dipped and swirled in his own curiosity.

“Cathie.”  It was upsetting me that he couldn’t get my name right.  “It is the money you need to pay back Dean.”

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