An hour later when the alarm went off, her body was sweaty, her heart racing.
“I’m not ready to go, Snowflake.” Dred stroked her face as he eased off her, slid out of her, leaving her feeling empty. He kissed her one more time and walked toward the en-suite bathroom. She heard the shower start and thought for a moment about joining him, but one look at the clock told her he needed to be leaving soon. He’d arranged for a car to pick him up outside the building.
Thirty minutes later, they were quietly standing by the door to the condo whispering their good-byes so as not to wake Lia.
“When will I see you again?”
“I don’t know, Pix. I’m more than willing to do this kind of thing again, or pay for you to come to me whenever you can. Even if it is only for the day. But I am definitely back here in less than two weeks to record the episode of the show.”
Inked, the TV show where the prize was a tattoo studio, was judged by Trent and Dred. A special episode where contestants were to tattoo over scars in honor of Trent and Harper’s story was being filmed at Second Circle.
“So, two weeks at a maximum.”
Dred brushed her lips with his. “Yeah, but I’m calling you to play. Be ready.” He stepped away from her and pulled the door open. “I’ll miss you, Pix.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” she whispered as the door closed. Pixie wandered back to bed, climbing into still-warm sheets that smelled of Dred. What would he think of her if she told him she’d been clean for six years, that the drugs she took, the ones her stepfather gave her, helped her through some of the most hellish experiences of her teenage years? Wrapping the blankets around her, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.
Hours later, the condo buzzer sounded and she answered it.
“Let me in Sarah-Jane.” Arnie.
“I’ll be right down.”
“No, you’ll let me in.”
Sickened at the idea of him tainting her home, she refused to buzz him up. “Give me a couple of minutes.”
Pixie ignored the repeated buzzing. She pulled on some clothes, grabbed the envelope, and hurried to the elevator, the sickening feeling growing in her stomach. He was going to be mad. But in reality, in among the fear that had her palms sweating, so was she. Her dreams of opening her business were in her hand. Five hundred dollars would buy a lot of fabric.
The elevator pinged and she stepped out of it confidently, even though her knees were shaking.
Arnie marched toward her, his face pissed. Desmond the concierge was in his usual spot. All it would take was one shout to him, and he’d be round the desk and on Arnie before he had any real chance to do anything. She held out the envelope to him, and he snatched it greedily.
“Let’s go. Call the elevator back.” His face was mottled red.
“No, Arnie. You aren’t setting foot in my home.”
“Is everything okay, Pixie?” Desmond shouted from across the reception area.
Pixie nodded. “It is, thank you. Arnie will be leaving shortly.”
Arnie moved to the left, where a large planter with tropical ferns provided the illusion of some privacy. “I brought you something, Sarah-Jane. A souvenir of sorts. Thought you might want it.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t want it. I gave you your money. Now go away. Leave me alone or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” He dropped the leopard-skin scarf into her hands, and Pixie, on automatic reflex, froze. Seeing the fabric so close to her wrists made her gag. It had been years since he’d tied her hands behind her back with it, but the memories hovered so close the surface.
“You see,” he said, lifting it back out of her hands, “you’ve forgotten. You enjoyed the things we did together. So you stop me from getting into your apartment again, and I’ll use this on you.” He stroked the hair back off her face, and Pixie shuddered.
“Two weeks. You’ll have another thousand, and be more . . . agreeable about it. And if that doesn’t work,” he added, “I’ll show your boss, your boyfriend, and the police, the picture of you killing Brewster.”
*
Maybe his lawyer was better than he’d initially given her credit for.
The previous evening, he’d received an email containing Amanda’s new address. A condo in Liberty Village, not too far from Exhibition Place. He was supposed to meet her there in the next hour.