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Stuck by a Drummer- The Adventure Continues
Turning my head, I saw Steve, dressed in black from head to toe, racing toward us, his speed only broken by the maze of parked cars he had to weave through.
Brent swore under his breath and shoved me so hard I fell to the pavement. He also threw my suitcase, and if I hadn't rolled quickly to the side it would have hit me. Dazed, I watched as he leaped into his van, backed out of the parking spot with a screech of tires, and tore out of sight.
I was still lying there when Steve thundered up. When he knelt beside me, and started helping me to my feet, I burst into tears. Silently I cursed myself; I'd never been much of one for crying from infancy onward, and the past week and a half, I'd bawled at least once a day. I couldn't help it; the near brush with kidnapping or death or whatever that Brent character had represented killed my resolution. I buried my face into Steve's cloth jacket, inhaling his scent, and sobbed as he stroked my back and hair and said nothing.
"What the hell just happened," I choked when my breathing became normal again.
"KC, this is totally fucked," Steve said with his jaw clenched. "I called a cab to take me to the airport to pick you up. As we were rounding the corner from my house, this black van- the one you were about to climb into- came hurtling through the intersection and ran the cab into a mailbox. I'm fine, and thank God the driver wasn't hurt either. I got a good look at the bloke driving the van, and imagine the way I felt when I saw you about to drive off with him."
"What the FUCK?" I gasped. "That guy said his name was Brent and that you sent him to pick me up."
"Yeah, whatever," Steve's face was grim. "I'd have been here sooner but the police arrived and the driver and I had to make statements, etc. I get the strongest feeling that someone didn't want me to pick you up today."
"But WHO? I don't know anyone in England but you."
"It could be someone with a grudge against me. Who knows. But I'm not taking any chances." Gently he let me go, and bent down to pick up my suitcase. "Let's go back into the terminal. I'm going to book a couple of hotel rooms and then ring Pete and Lynne and get them to join us. It's obvious the house is being watched, and until I find out by whom, we're taking some precautions."
We walked in silence to the main aiport building. But the moment we stepped through the automated doors, Steve dropped my bag, swept me in his arms, and brought his lips down on mine. The touch inflamed my own passion. When he lifted me up and darted his tongue in my mouth, not caring that we had more spectators than a good-sized concert hall, I clasped his waist between my thighs. A few onlookers laughed and clapped and a couple of raver kid types asked us if we needed a bed.
"I missed you," I whispered when we came up for air.
"You too, babe." He lowered me to the ground once more. "You must be a witch- you've sure done something to me."
I leaned my head on his arm, happy once again. Despite the recent shake-up, I felt safe now.
Steve found a payphone and dialed a hotel to reserve two rooms. Then he called home and spoke to Lynne, Pete's wife, outlining the morning's events and asking her to pack, grab Pete and the cats, and meet him at the "hotel where we had our New Year's Eve party" in two hours.
"Two hours should give us time," he said to me after hanging up and picking up my bags.
"To get into London?" I was confused. "Does it take that long?"
"No." His smile was mischievous. "To punish you."
"Punish me?" I laughed as we emerged outside.
"Yes. You were about to get in a van with a stranger. Obviously you didn't listen to your mum's warnings about talking to strangers."
"Well, these days it's my job to interview them."
"Don't try to talk your way out of it," he said airily as he signaled a cab. I just smiled and rolled my eyes as we got into the vehicle. After giving the driver directions to a hotel in Earl's Court, Steve reached into his coat pocket and took out a bandana similar to the one on his head. After making sure that the driver's eyes were only on the road, Steve grasped my wrists in one strong hand and bound them securely. He removed his jacket and draped it so that his work of bondage was hidden.
"Be a doll and hold my coat?" was all he said.
"Okay," was all I could say.
More soon, folks!!
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