Christopher Smith - Fifth Avenue

“Yes, you are,” Eric said. “Now, come on. Let me show you how crazy I can be.”

Spocatti waited until he was certain they had left the room before he pushed back the chair, stood and tucked the gun in his holster. As he smoothed his gloved hands down the front of his black dinner jacket, it occurred to him that that was twice this evening that Leana Redman had nearly blown his cover. He stretched his neck, tried to ease a cramp.

Payback, he thought as he eased out of the room and stepped into the hall, is a bitch.

In the lobby, Spocatti stepped out of the elevator, looked for Celina Redman, found her near the buffet talking to a man, and approached them.

"Celina Redman?" he asked.

They both turned to look at him. "Yes?" she said.

He showed her his security card. “May I have a word with you in private?"

The elevator doors opened and Celina stepped into her parent's penthouse. Why had Leana asked to meet here? What couldn't be discussed in the lobby? She had promised Jack a dance and she wanted to get back to him.

She could hear the sound of voices at the end of the hall.

Celina moved in their direction, finally coming to a stop beside one of the bedroom doors. Although she could hear only pieces of what was being said, she recognized the voice as Leana’s and knew at once that she should not be standing here, that something was wrong. Still, she listened. Now the voice was clearer. “Please don’t be embarrassed. It happens sometimes. You’ve just had to much to drink.”

Celina moved closer to the door. “Look,” Leana said. “Why don’t you just lie down? You can sleep here tonight. Mom and Dad won’t mind, and I promise they won’t know that I was here with you. Neither will Celina. It’ll be our secret.”

At that moment, Celina stepped into the bedroom. Leana was sitting at the edge of the bed in a thin silk kimono and she turned away from Eric to face her. While Celina noticed that her sister was naked beneath the kimono’s brightly colored fabric, she didn't see the genuine flash of surprise in Leana’s eyes.

She shut the door behind her. “I got your message, Leana. Your friend from security gave it to me.”

Startled, Eric sat up in bed. He looked from Celina to Leana, then realized he was naked and drew a sheet to cover himself. “What message?”

Celina’s face was composed, but inside, she was furious. She leveled Eric with a look. “I don’t want to hear a word from you,” she said. “Not one word.”

“It’s not what you think,” Eric said.

“It’s exactly what I think,” Celina said. “And I don’t want to see you again. What we had is over.” She looked at Leana, who was standing now, holding the kimono shut with tightly clenched hands. “I just want to know one thing before I leave-what did I ever do to you to deserve this? Why did you tell that man to meet you here?”

Leana shook her head. She felt confused, embarrassed and ashamed. Never had she wanted this to happen. And yet it had. But how?

“Answer me,” Celina said. “I have a right to know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leana said. “I never gave anyone a message.”

The silence stretched between them like a dangerously fraying thread. Celina turned to leave. “I never expected you to tell me the truth,” she said. “You always were a liar, Leana. And a coward.”

Hand trembling, she opened the door and was about to step through when she stopped and faced her sister a last time. “You can pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, but I know you planned this. I know you told that man to have me meet you here. I think you’ve been waiting years for this moment. To see me hurt.”

Before Leana could say anything more, Celina was gone.

In the silence that passed, Eric looked across the room at Leana. She was dressing. Behind her, Manhattan pushed up a glittering wall of glass and concrete.

“Where are you’re going?” he asked.

“After her, of course.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” He slid off the bed.

“I’ve done nothing, Eric. That’s the point.”

He looked at her incredulously. “You call having Celina catch us in bed together nothing? Are you fucking out of your mind?”

“If what she said is true, I call it being set up.” She slipped into her dress. There was a tiny rip in the back near the zipper. Earlier, Eric had torn it in haste.

“You know you’ve ruined whatever chance I might have with her, don’t you?”

Leana shot him a fierce warning look. “This was not my doing, Eric. I’ve told you that. Now, drop it.” She stepped into her shoes, walked past him to the dressing table and fixed her hair. She had to speak to Celina, she had to find out who had given her that message, she had to clear her name.

A thought occurred to her while she brushed her hair. Leana always had wanted to see her sister hurt-but never like this.

“I’m sorry,” Eric said. “I know you had nothing to do with this. It’s just that-”

“Apology accepted,” Leana interrupted. He was drunk. She didn’t want to hear him talk. She just wanted to leave this room and find Celina. Quickly.

“Who told her? Who knew we were here?”

She looked at his reflection in the dressing table’s mirror. “I’m not sure who told her. But I intend to find out.” She turned in front of the mirror, thankful that her hair covered the rip in the back of her dress.

“I’ll come with you,” Eric said, and Leana noticed as she faced him that he had put on his pants. The rest of his clothes were still on the chair beside him.

“You need to stay here,” she said. “Celina can’t handle seeing us both right now.”

She began to step past him. And as she did so, Eric pulled back his hand and struck her hard across the face with the belt he'd been hiding behind his back.

The blow took Leana by surprise and she fell to the floor, blood spraying from her nose and mouth, spotting the beige carpet. Before she could defend herself, before she even knew what was happening, Eric was straddling her, swinging the belt, raining blows on her thighs, shoulders, face and breasts.

Her dress ripped from the strain of their struggling. Her cries of pain and help echoed hollowly in the room.

“You fucking bitch!” he shouted. “You knew what she meant to me! You’ve ruined everything Celina and I could have had together!” He pulled back the belt and struck her once more across the face, leaving her cheek hot and swollen. A dusting of red stars flowered before Leana’s eyes as she skated closer to the gray edges of unconsciousness. Somewhere, far in the dark corners of her mind, she realized the blows could kill her.

And then Eric punched her. Hard. In the mouth.

Leana forced herself to think through the daze. If she tried to resist him, he would hurt her worse than he already had. She tried to move her arms, but they were pinned beneath his knees. And then her mind froze. Eric was forcing her legs apart. She felt his hand race up her dress and tear at her underwear. His fingers clawed and searched.

Leana struggled and was about to scream when Eric clamped an open hand over her mouth. She felt wetness and smelled a heady mixture of Scotch and blood. Her blood.

Eric pressed his mouth against her ear. “Just remember,” he said, as he ground his hips into hers, “you wanted this.”

And then Leana unexpectedly relaxed against him. Eric looked at her with such surprise that he involuntarily relaxed with her.

It was then that she made her move.

She bit hard into his hand and shoved him off her when he recoiled. Her heart thundering, her sense of direction shattered, Leana stumbled to her feet. The door was across the room, a million miles away. She ran for it.