Chapter 4 Where Am I? In Hell?

• There’s a roaring in my ears, for I have not had a thing since breakfast, which was just a sandwich.
• My breath catches in my throat as I gulp, knowing that I have to say something, have to plead with the man in front of me, to help me to pay off my poor Dad’s bills.
• For Liam O’Grady and Finn St Just are the realtor giants who are buying every property in sight, turning them into fancy housing estates for the elite. Lavish bungalows in gated societies, with pools huge gyms, movie theatres, and restaurants…the works.
• And they are also loan sharks…
• So I want to get them to loan me the money to get out of Dean Nelson’s clutches…
• It’s become an obsession with me and I have been planning and plotting over the months for this one encounter.
• Only, with one thing and another, I could not come over.
• First the oven at the bakery malfunctioned. Then the twins came down with fever…
• But now, I’m here, finally.
• And I’m not going away till I get the men to agree to help me.
• I look up, way up, into the cold tawny eyes for the man is tall, towering over me. He is handsome, with mussed-up hair that verges on a beaten gold kind of blonde, and that’s an understatement. His clothes; that’s what I notice. An expensive white silk shirt, the sleeves rolled up carelessly, the trousers clinging to his strong thighs. L feel his eyes on me and look up startled, and my gaze focuses on the cruelty in his mouth.
• Instinctively, I know that he is a man who will extract a price for everything he does. Nothing will come free.
• I will have to pay if I ask him for help. But…
• My stomach churns as I begin to understand what I am letting myself into…
• I swallow and open my mouth to speak, for the man is watching me, his face shuttered, only his golden eyes alive and curious.
• His expression is disinterested, almost pitying as he studies me in silence and I feel as though the world has been shut out. The look he gives is one of neutral speculation. Like a man watching a particularly uninspiring show on TV.
• I swallow again, my throat tight as I manage to get the words out.
• “Uhhh…I wanted…I wanted to …”
• But he’s already turning away, dismissing me, his expression bored.
• ‘Melanie,’ he says in that smoker’s voice, addressing the blonde who looks like she’s going to fall onto her knees and worship him,
• “I…”
• But I pounce, grabbing his sleeve in desperation and hear the worshipful Melanie gasp in outrage.
• ‘Please Sir,” I stammer and his eyes, widen slightly before they narrow to slits.
• “What?’ he growls and I hear my heart hammering. Surely everyone can hear it too?
• Something has changed between us; it’s in the air, a sizzle of chemistry?
• It feels like static and I step a little away. But his gaze, gold and intent, is now on me. I have his entire attention and I’m not sure I can handle it.
• He nods at Melaine the blonde, a hand snaking out to grip my elbow.
• Firm, not painful.
• “I’ll find out what his young lady wants.”
• And before I know it, he’s propelling me out of the room.
• Just as I stumble away, I notice a door at the end of a corridor.
• A door with the legend,
• FINN ST JUST written in gold.
• But the man who is leading me, strides away from it, into the bowels of the building, away from the buzz of the front office, deeper inside…
• I have followed Finn St Just like a little puppy, down the hall, deeper into the shadows, away from the controlled chaos of the front rooms. There is a staircase, I notice as I trot, trying to keep up with the man as he takes me down the hall which is strangely deserted. Doors flank the hall but all of them are closed, like lips sealed tight, holding their secrets within themselves.
• When he opens the door at the end of the hall, I just have time to see that it is a thick wooden door, and beyond that, is a room, dimly lit, all cherrywood and cut crystal, bottles gleaming with their golden contents, and heavy drapes, dark maroon in color. Leather and smoke seem to fill the sir and I stop, hesitating for a minute. I can see men, with dark, curious eyes and dark suits. And I feel the panic rising up in me. What have I done? Where have I let myself?
• The man shuts the door behind me, shutting out the sounds of the office behind us, the mechanical and smooth everyday murmurs of employees going about their daily tasks before leaving for their warm houses, away from the evening dark, the light rain.
• I turn to him blindly, the only refuge in this room where I can feel eyes stripping me of my poor weathered old hoodie, and I gasp,
• ‘I…think…I want to leave.”
• The hard set to the golden-eyed man’s mouth tells me the answer even before he speaks. I am dimly aware of the broad strength of his shoulders but I plead anyway.
• “Please Sir.”
• The golden eyes; can they be called tawny? I wonder hysterically, flickering over me, with a sudden flash of something that is quickly gone, even before I can comprehend it.
• Now I look up into the unflinching golden gaze that seemed to strip me, to see into my very soul.
• But somehow, for some bizarre reason. I want to hide behind the man, behind his wide, tall body. From somewhere, I realize that his hands are large, so large, they could wrap around my waist, plump though I am. Finn St Just’s like a giant before me, a giant hewn of stone. And as hard as one, I think, my mouth falling open slightly. His tawny gaze lands on my mouth and stays there.
• I hear an impatient chuckle behind me and I turn, trembling.
• “What have you brought in, Finn?’ growls a bored, gravelly voice that makes my insides turn to jelly.
• Dear God, I think, clasping my hands before me, wringing them unconsciously. Where am I? In Hell?