Page 9 of Blake

Chapter Four

Pax hung up the phone resisting the urge to scream in frustration. Everything had gone wrong today starting with her disastrous decision to ask Calvin Blake for help. What had she been thinking of, asking that playboy for help? He was conceited, arrogant, entirely too sure of himself, and though she didn’t like to admit it, played havoc with her libido.

Pax was a normal woman with normal sexual needs, and when faced with a pretty face and hot body, she responded to it in a completely normal way. That did not mean she had to act on it, and she’d had no intention of doing so. But now, now she wanted to kick and scream at the unfairness of it all.

She wasn’t a woman to feel sorry for herself—she had a good life, an excellent job and friends, and her upbringing had been to all intents and purposes, idyllic. That fact she’d been blind for most of that, to who her father was, didn’t distract from the fact she’d had it easy. So now fate, the miserable fucker, had found her and was going to play games.

Make her want a man she shouldn’t. Make her need his help because he was the most viable option. Then when she’d finally swallowed her pride and asked, have him turn her down. Well, fuck you, fate, and the horse you rode in on.

“Hey, Pax, you closing up soon?” Bebe walked from the back office towards her. Bebe was one of the Zenobi girls who regularly took on undercover work. Her background was sketchy and one she didn’t share with anyone.

“I have a client coming in twenty minutes to view the Renoir then I’m out. This day can go to hell.”

She sighed and Bebe laughed, the deep rich sound matching the deeply seductive mystery of the woman with her dark brown, almost rich chocolate, coloured hair and her big brown, almost black eyes, their slight almond shape showing her heritage. “Want me to stick around and keep you company?”

Pax could see she needed about three days of sleep and wasn’t going to keep her from her bed. “No. You look exhausted and this is hardly a high crime area.”

Hereford was on the border between England and Wales and while definitely still in England and the locals would gut you if you called them Welsh, it was still relatively safe.

“Okay. If you’re sure, I’ll head out. I have a large glass of wine and a hot bath with my name on it waiting for me.” Bebe smiled as she waved and slipped out the door.

Pax went back to the pick list in front of her. She had three girls out of the country that needed go bags put in safe places before midday tomorrow. She still couldn’t get hold of the new supplier for the discreet weapons she needed, and her feet were hurting. She wanted to go home, pour herself a gin and tonic, slip into shorts and a vest top, and read the new thriller on her kindle.

She knew that wasn’t going to happen though. She would go home and start researching a way into the Palace, study the skills she would need to get the nannies job for Princess Louisa without Blake’s help.

Pax looked at her watch and cursed. The client was late, not that it was unusual. People with money often thought they could come and go as they pleased without a thought for anyone else. Unfortunately for them, Athena Art Gallery didn’t work that way. She would give them ten minutes and then she would close up. Packing the paperwork away and locking the computer down, she moved to the gallery area and double checked the security on the paintings.

If there was one thing Zenobi did well, it was security. Nobody would get past and it was why they didn’t have security guards. That and the girls, which for all her lack in that area included her, were better trained than any security guard.

Checking her watch she noticed the ten minutes were up and with a shrug flipped the lights off in the gallery, leaving only the lights that illuminated the paintings themselves on.

She moved towards the desk to collect her bag when she heard a sound a split second before someone shoved her violently forward. Her face hit the edge of her desk, the pain sending her vision blurry for a second as warm blood trickled down her face. Grabbing the edge of the desk she used it to balance herself as she kicked back with her leg, catching her attacker on the side of his knee. He yelped in pain and Pax was surprised at how quickly he seemed to recover as she felt her hair being grabbed from behind. Twisting, Pax realised she was facing two men rather than just one, and it was the second that had her hair in his grip. She fought harder, fear mixing with adrenalin as the man holding her hair released it and grabbed her around her arms, securing her against his massive body. Pax tried to stay alert, to clamp down the fear that threatened to make her weak. Both men had ski masks on, and were big, well over six feet tall and muscular.

She struggled to try to loosen the grip the man had on her as the one she had kicked moved in closer. His hands balled into fists as she tried to get free, but she didn’t have the same skills as the others. A blow to the ribs made her lose her breath as pain radiated outwards. Another to the other side made her cry out and she saw the man smile.

A thousand thoughts went through her head as punch after punch landed on her body and face until she felt numb. Her left eye was closing, and she could barely breathe such was the pain throughout her body.

Finally the man holding her spoke. “Enough. It’s only a warning. We weren’t meant to kill her.” Pax immediately recognised his Boston accent.

“Let her go.”

The other man’s accent was less pronounced but still unmistakably American. She felt arms let her go and she fell to her knees as the man who had beat her caught her around the throat with his meaty hands.

Her hands flew to her neck, clawing at his hands as he squeezed. She felt her eyes go wide in terror as he began to choke her. Her vision started to go black as small dots danced in front of her. Seconds before she passed out, he released her, shoving her to the ground as she coughed and gasped, trying to get oxygen into her burning lungs which hurt like a bitch because of her damaged ribs.

“Stay away from things that don’t concern you, bitch. Daddy can’t protect you this time.” The man spat the words at her before he hauled back and kicked her in the stomach, making her lose her much-needed air.

She watched from the floor as the two men left, letting the door slam shut behind them. Pax absently heard the sound of a car as it screamed away from the curb. She lay on the floor letting the pain radiate through her as she caught her breath. She knew the cameras would have captured it all and felt humiliation bubble under her skin. None of the others would have allowed that to happen. She needed to delete the footage before they saw it. Dragging herself upright took longer than she anticipated, sweat beading her brow as she struggled through the pain her ribs and abdomen.

She would have horrendous bruises tomorrow and she didn’t even want to think what her face looked like. After what felt like a lifetime, she got to the door, closing and locking it behind her before slowly making her way to the back office, copying and then deleting the footage.

She didn’t want anyone else to see it, but she wasn’t stupid—she knew it was evidence and could hold clues. Once she had finished what felt like a herculean task, she considered how she would drive in such a state. But her options were limited. She would never walk it and a taxi driver would ask a thousand questions before demanding she go to the hospital. Driving was the only option.

Bending to nab her bag from the floor, she hissed in pain at the movement. Walking slowly to the exit, she bowed her head and avoided the camera as she locked up and went to her car. Pax drove home slowly thanking all the gods that she drove an automatic and had no need to keep changing gears. Even that minuscule movement hurt. Parking on the drive of her two-bedroom house, she cut the ignition and took a moment before hauling her body out of the car and ducking her head again so none of her neighbours would see her. The sky was dusky as the summer day gave way to the anonymity of night. Placing the key in the lock she let herself in and felt an instant sense of peace.

Her home was her sanctuary against everything that went on in her life. She had bought and paid for it with her inheritance from her grandmother on her mom’s side. Every item in the house was hers, earned with hard work and tears. The money her father tried to put in her bank account was refused every month. Eventually she’s started sending it straight to a charity she chose at random.

Pax moved forward, down the sleek wide hallway with cream walls and a blue-grey gloss on the woodwork, the floors a dark oak colour with a blue abstract patterned runner up the middle. That room led to the large kitchen diner with double doors out onto the lawn and deck area.