Jessica Clare - Last Breath

“You’re quite the metrosexual, aren’t you?” She raises a foot toward me and wiggles her toes. The movement is provocative. My eyes arrow right down the black silk-clad foot toward her inner thigh and in the dim light of the taxi there are enticing shadows cast by the valley between her legs. The hide-and-seek nature of the shifting light begs me to reach down and explore...I force myself to turn away once again.

“I like nice things. Sue me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were taking me to the embassy?” She nudges me in the knee with her foot. Does she realize how flirtatious she is being? I mean, she’s fucking touching me with her foot. That’s intimate shit right there. It’s a good thing I’m wearing a suit coat. Jesus Hermione Christ.

“Would you have believed me?” I said evenly. Her foot drops away, and I swallow a groan with a heroic effort. Good job, Daniel. I give myself a little pat on the back. She has no idea what she’s doing because she’s thinking about freedom and escape and the good ol’ U.S. of A. I’m the dirt bag having dirty thoughts about a girl who I’ve just hauled away from a whorehouse where she was chained to the wall. And because I can’t be nice to her, I snap back, “You wouldn’t have fucking believed me.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Her attention is distracted and I see we’ve drawn up to the embassy.

“We’re here,” I say with relief, but she makes no effort to get out. “This is it.” I wave my hand out the window. “ Consulado General dos Estados Unido .”

Regan

HOPE FLARES IN MY HEART at the sight of the embassy. I am free. I am steps away from going home. Soon, all of this will be a bad memory and I can return to my previous life. Then, I want to laugh at the thought. I am a scholarship student; all of my grades will be torpedoed by my absence. I’ll have to figure something out. Maybe Mike will let me move in with him.

If he can stand to touch me after what I’ve been through. If he hasn’t already moved on and found another girlfriend after my absence. I like to think he’s waiting for me, but Mike has never been particularly emotional. I cling to him more than he clings to me. I have no illusions about our relationship.

I stare at the embassy through the dirty taxi window. Once I step out of this car, everything goes back to normal. I’ll return to the normal world, a slightly dirtier version of the girl who left it. For some reason, that scares me.

“There you go,” Daniel says at my side, voice dry with amusement. “I told you I’d take you to the embassy, and there it is. Don’t act so excited.”

I look over at him, hiding my uncertainty. “Thank you,” I say, hugging my jacket closer. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

“I can guess.”

I give him a faint smile, and I think for a moment that he’s a good-looking guy. I don’t know what he’s doing in Rio in whorehouses, but he’s saved me. Impulsively, I lean in and kiss his cheek, feeling the stubble under my lips. I want to recoil immediately at the touch, but I know it’s the right thing to do. He likes my touch. His sarcastic gaze softens as he looks at me and he nods. “You stay safe, okay?”

“Okay,” I breathe, and turn to the window again, my hand on the door. I can do this. I’ll introduce myself as Regan Porter. I’m an American who was taken from my home country, and a nice stranger rescued me from a brothel, and I’d really, really like to go home.

I tighten my grip on the handle and look out the window.

The breath dies in my throat.

There at the front of the embassy is the big bruiser. Mr. Freeze’s bodyguard. It’s dark outside, but he’s standing near the door, and I recognize that bald head and big shoulders. If it was light outside, I’d see those awful hooded eyes.

He knows I’m gone. Someone’s called and let Mr. Freeze know that his favorite dentally-perfect whore has flown the coop without his permission. I know as soon as I enter that embassy, I’ll be right back at the whorehouse.

I tremble, and then hate myself for it. He hasn’t seen the taxi yet. He doesn’t know that I’m here. I think for a minute and then turn back to Daniel, the nice-looking American man that has somehow, for some reason, tried to help me escape. I turn to him and give him a faint smile. “Can I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

His words remind me that Daniel is carrying guns. He killed two men tonight that tried to take me back to the brothel. Whoever he is, he’s not with Freeze. That automatically makes him safer. “Who sent you?” I asked this earlier and he’d danced around the question.

He gives me a serious look, then glances at the cab driver, as if to point out that this isn’t a safe place to talk. Then he looks me over again. “Mutual friend.”

I don’t know who he means. I can’t think of a single person who would know a killer who hangs out in Rio brothels. I glance up at the embassy doors again. The bruiser is gone, but I know I saw him. I know he’s there, waiting for me.

I look over at Daniel again. He’s trying not to look at my legs. Trying, and failing. He’s clearly attracted to me. I’ve seen appreciation flash across his face a few times, quickly hidden. He’s trying not to be, but it’s hard for him.

If he’s attracted to me, I can use that. Sex means nothing to me now. Whatever intimacy it might have meant before has been beaten out of me. I can have sex with this man. I can use him to keep me safe from Freeze. This man killed two men tonight. He’s dangerous.

“You said you won’t touch me unless I want you to,” I whisper in a low voice and then bite my lip in a deliberate manner. I notice his gaze flicks there, to my mouth. He’s definitely attracted. “Is that true?”

“I’m not a monster, sweetheart,” he tells me, and looks almost insulted at the question.

I slide a little closer to him in the car, and my fingers touch the front of his jacket. “Then . . . can I stay with you?”

Daniel looks surprised at my suggestion. No, shocked. His brows draw down, and he flicks a glance at the embassy. “You can’t stay with me. This is as far as I go. I’m dropping you off here. I have other work in Rio. Come on.” He reaches over my lap for the door handle. “They’ll be good to you in the embassy. You don’t have to worry.”

I press my body closer to his, letting the fear I feel tremble through me. It’s not faked; I’m terrified that if I get out of the car, I’m heading right back to the brothel. “Please, Daniel. Please let me stay with you for just a bit longer.” And I cling to the front of his jacket and look as helpless and lost as I can. When he still looks doubtful, I try a different tactic. “I don’t want to go there looking like this.”

He examines my outfit; his eyes narrow as he considers me, then glances out the door. He leans in close. “You scared of something, sweetheart?”

I nod, my eyes wide and pleading. I don’t want to say it aloud because the taxi driver is watching us in his rearview mirror. For all I know, he works for Mr. Freeze, too. If the bruiser can be at the embassy waiting for me, no one is safe.

Except maybe Daniel.

Daniel, who has guns on him. Maybe I can take one of them while he sleeps. Maybe I can seduce him into giving me one or showing me how to shoot them. But I need more answers from him. I want to know who sent him, so I can know if I’m truly safe or if I’ve jumped into more danger.

But Daniel is the devil I know at the moment, and he can’t be as bad as Mr. Freeze. He hasn’t looked at my teeth once, after all.

Daniel seems to consider my frightened snuggling. It’s hard for me to do because I don’t want a man touching me, but I fight back my bile and continue to try and look helpless and innocent. I paw at the front of his jacket. “I . . . can we go to a nice hotel room somewhere? I’d really like a bath and some real clothes. Then maybe we can go to the embassy tomorrow morning, okay? Once I feel human again.”