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"Next date night ....no popcorn and Superhero movie ...I wanna try that place," Michelle stated as they left the Moon on the Water bar and headed towards the underground Car Park.
"Are you paying?" he chuckled looking over at the waterside French Restaurant on the opposite side of the plaza "I've heard it's expens..."
"You can't even bring yourself to say it's expensive can you." Michelle jabbed him playfully in the ribs.
Parsons words lost as he looked back over his shoulder, certain that it was Rose Callaghan he saw being ushered into a taxi by a strangely familiar looking tall dark-haired male.
With the taxi instantly headed away in the opposite direction he couldn't be sure.
**********
There was almost a tension between them, something brooding something unspoken. Andrew's mood had not so much turned but had certainly grown distracted as the meal had progressed. It had always been the plan to head to here; the apartment he'd recently arranged to rent from a Manager at work who was in between long-term tenants. She dared not ask what, for fear of her Detectives instinct ruining an otherwise perfect night, yet as he turned the key in the lock of the door Callaghan felt a little uneasy.
"Is everything alright?" She softly couldn't help but enquire.
"Why shouldn't it be?" his response was almost a little too quick.
He led the way entering the vast apartment and turning on lights with a switch on the wall. A narrow hallway led to an open plan living area. The apartment was sparsely yet tastefully decorated, the kitchen and living area as one. As soon as she walked into the centre of the living room, she could see the mezzanine level accessed by a flight of stairs with a glass and metal banister to the side.
"Wow" Callaghan said as she slipped off her jacket in the dimly lit room and draped it over the back of a black leather sofa "Someone landed on their feet."
"Well, it was costing me a fortune booking all those hotels." His tone was lighter, sincere, as he approached her from behind his firm hands wrapping around her waist as he embraced her from behind. There was no tension in his body, either his mood had instantly lifted or perhaps she had imagined his perceived irritability.
"Am I not worth it" she chided gently.
"Very" he stated kissing the side of her neck "But when this place came up... given I can work from anywhere ...I thought why not."
"I like you're thinking."
"And it's conveniently placed on your way home," he offered and while she couldn't see his face, she knew a smirk was etched across it. "For all those nights you can't find excuses to stay away."
This represented a step forward in their relationship Callaghan knew this, quite literally bringing him closer to home. Making her more acutely aware of her need to address the ongoing personal conflict she felt with the increasing betrayal caused by her continued infidelity.
"Did the previous tenant have a dog?" she stated looking at the pet cage to the side of the longest sofa.
"No wonder you're a Detective," he chuckled from behind her.
His hands moved over her shoulders and she parked all her reservations and all her previous thoughts about this new place, about his mood, about her fiancé. Concentrating in that moment only on the simple touch of his strong hands as they slid from her shoulders down her arms. Slowly drawing her arms from her side behind her back. His right-hand gripping tightly over both her wrists while his left hand slipped around her stomach before pressing up between her breasts, up over her neck turning her head to him sharply as he kissed her passionately.
Breaking the kiss, he kept his hand dominantly around her neck and kept a hold of her wrists, squeezing them.
"Wanna play a trust game?"
She knew exactly what he meant, slowly biting her bottom lip, keeping her eyes locked on his she didn't say a word.
Rose Callaghan simply nodded.
**********
She stands before me facing the bed, blindfolded.
Fully clothed in the short tight burgundy dress
Hands clenched; wrists adorned with rose gold handcuffs on a short chain. Over her ankles sat matching rose gold cuffs with a slightly longer chain.
"Relax" I softly stare.
She doesn't question audibly, but I feel her body tense as I run the thick leather collar around her throat. She takes a deep breath slowly exhaling, calming herself as I fasten the little silver buckle of the collar at the back of her neck my hand brushing her tied back ponytail to one side as I do so.
"Who is he?" I ask as I step close behind her both my hands running down her hips to the hem of her skirt.
"Who?" Callaghan tentatively answered.
"At the restaurant when we were leaving...you seemed familiar" as I speak my hands pull the skirt up the back of her legs and I'm pleased to see the tops of black hold up stockings. I harshly grab and tear away the delicate lace G-string that dissects her ass, causing a grunt of indignation but nothing more.
"I... I don't know," there's a slight concern in her voice.
"Are you sure Rose?" My hands push her squarely between the shoulder blades her shins catching the edge of the low bed and given her restraint she falls heavily across the bed, face first.
"Fuck," she whispers as I unbutton my shirt. Despite being unable to see me she looks back at me, the concern of her voice now visible on the lower half of her face. "I swear he was ..., he was just being friendly."
"He wanted you" I say letting a slight smirk pass my lips.
She shakes her head.
"He did," I slip my trousers down and kneel over the backs of her bound legs pulling down the front of my black tight hipsters, already hard for her.
"Andrew your...."
"Mine" I cut her off as I lowered myself across her back, pulling apart her toned thighs as best I can I press forward and find her, entering her slowly.
I enter her harshly causing her to cry out with a pained little gasp, held effectively bound by the steel of two pairs of cuffs she does not protest though, she submits. Rose Callaghan lets me claim her.
I feel her tight wet warmth around me as a I swirl and press my hips; I don't intend to take my time with her. I intend to use her for my gratification not hers
"You're mine Rose Callaghan." I reiterate as my hand reaches to her collar and I start to fuck her.
**********
In her imposed darkness she gasped for breath.
His hand gripping the collar around her neck she let him take her hard, brutally hard.
His hard heavy thrusts into her prone body sated her, each deep thrust claimed her.
He'd said she was his and she knew she was his.
Wrists and ankles cuffed face rubbing against the soft cotton duvet beneath her. He felt so good as he now knelt behind her one hand under her waist holding her hip up, pressing her ass up against him.
"Are you mine?" He asked again on a heavy deep thrust.
She didn't answer.
"Are you mine" the next thrust drew only a grunt from her with its veracity.
"Are you mine?" He near demanded lifting her head of the mattress by the collar, near choking her as he thrust deep into her.
"Yes" Callaghan whispered "Yes Andrew .... Yes"
Holding her upper body he fucked her brutally his hips jack hammering as she gasped for breath under his control. His total control of her. She felt him climax, felt the warmth of his deposit in her and he let go of the collar immediately.
Callaghan lay there sweat coating her body from the fast brutal fuck, her chest rising and falling beneath her.
"You're what?" He leans forward and whispered in her left ear.
"I'm yours."
Chapter Four; Paralysis
Rose Callaghan much as she had in every interview to date knew they had young Jack Hughes on the ropes. She didn't even have to make eye contact with Detective Steve Parsons sat to her left to know he was thinking the same thing.
She didn't even need to raise brows at the lawyer sat opposite of her, Michael Entwistle. Already Entwistle's role had altered, with charges levied for sex with a minor he was looking to prove innocence he was looking to fight fires and to minimise the impact on his client. Lawyers being the compromised shadow dwellers in this position, a moral duty to defend their client even in the face of such horrendous accusations. Callaghan wondered how they had the morals to essentially lie day in and day out in order to defend their clients. A big fat pay check at the end of the month, a big house, maybe couple of exotic holidays a year all sweetened the bitter pills to swallow no doubt, but the moral conflict faced by the allegations of this case alone and its vile nature must make Lawyers consider their life choices at times. Callaghan knew which side of the desk she'd rather be, even for far less financial reward. Entwistle's job now was to cross examine every piece of evidence and every allegation that Callaghan and Parsons made on behalf of their team. Her job was to make that evidence indefensible in the eyes of Michael Entwistle.
"Jack..." Callaghan stated fixing her stare on the young man dressed once again in a custody issue grey sweatshirt and bottoms "We've already charged you with the assault of Daisy Grayson, coupled with Sex with a minor.... We have DNA evidence that links you to Stirchley Grange Mills.... we have your known association to Mica Wise who was discovered abducted at Stirchley Grange Mills .... you've known association to Sophie McAllister who was abducted at Stirchley Grange Mills.... when you were present ...and the alibi you've given for that evening Miss Sarah McAllister has not been available to confirm or deny you spent the whole evening in her company"
Callaghan continued to eyeball him as she paused to take a sip from her coffee.
"I suggest you start co-operating with us a little more."
"My client is under no obligation to comment on your speculation Detective Callaghan," Entwistle interrupted
She'd expected nothing less than this, she knew irrespective that she held the upper hand though and it was just a question of leverage, of pushing the confession from Jack Hughes that would bring down the house of cards that was his defence.
"Appreciated Mr Entwistle," Callaghan refrained from commenting further instead she turned to Parsons with a nod.
To her left from a sage green cardboard file Parsons removed a photograph and slid it across the table to Jack Hughes
"For the tape..." Parsons clearly stated, "I'm showing the accused photograph 217c ...Miss Henrietta Harding."
The flame haired pale girl with piercing green eyes was captured in the image smiling, part of a cropped family portrait that her Father had provided, the photo taken at a society function a little over three weeks ago, so Mark Harding had informed them. The most recent photo taken of his abducted 18year old daughter.
"Do you recognise the person in this picture?" Parsons enquires.
The right honourable Mark Harding had contacted Central Station four days ago, he and his family had deliberated in the threat to their youngest daughter for 24hours, scared for her and the ramifications. Driven mad with uncertainty after receiving a solitary 16 second video clip which they'd viewed over and over again for scant clues offered. With express permission the investigation and search for Henrietta had commenced out of the scrutiny of the public eye. They struggled to believe that Jack Hughes would have been as stupid to be released from custody and abducted Henrietta Harding, but perhaps there was something they were missing, an unknown connection within Jack Hughes web of deceit. They couldn't ignore that he could be innocent of any knowledge of Miss Harding but was there the possibility he wasn't operating alone, that he was operating in conjunction with another person or persons. The scale of Stirchley Grange alone suggested that the complexity of what they had discovered there may have been the vile work of more than one individual.
Equally though as an increasingly prominent and controversially outspoken Member of Parliament the investigating team could not rule out that Henrietta's abduction was not a standalone event either. They had no proof or evidence; they took a risk in associating the two investigations but sometimes the coincidences couldn't be ignored. Another abducted victim and a Prime Suspect, there was no harm in putting two and two together sometimes and seeing what came up.
"Who... Who's?" Callaghan watched as Entwistle's hand reaches over and took the photograph away from Jack Hughes. He studied the photo and looked over at Parsons with a blank expression, he was sterile, he was good at his job. Jack fell silent as if by some telepathic command.
"The picture is of Henrietta Harding..." Callaghan spoke first, providing no further background "Believed to have been abducted at some point between 11am on Sunday 24th October and 6am on Monday 25th October".
"My Client was in your custody during that time frame" Entwistle stated rather glibly with a sneer of a smile.
"Not at all of Sunday the 24th," Callaghan stated in response witnessing simultaneously the smile fade from Entwistle's face and that now familiar rabbit in headlight look develop in Jack Hughes eyes.
"I don't know anyone called Henrietta ...I don't know anyone called Henrietta" Hughes reiterated pulling at the neckline of his grey sweatshirt.
Entwistle cast him a glance that screamed shut the fuck up.
"In light of this new evidence I request time with my client."
"Absolutely" Callaghan stated rising from her seat. Knowing that Hughes would only be told not comment, his initial reaction across the table had seemed sincere. She would consult Parsons; she would review the video. She would let others, better trained than her in interpreting body language and responses review the video. She wouldn't rule Jack Hughes out of the disappearance of Henrietta Harding until she was positive, he had played no part. She didn't like Jack Hughes; she didn't trust Jack Hughes.
"Interview Terminated at 12:43" Parsons stated for the benefit of the tape.
**********
"You seem tense," I state lowering the zipper on the back of her dress.
"Stressful day." she replied as I slip the black dress from her shoulders.
"Not the prospect of what's to come then," I softly state as the dress slips from her hips to her ankles revealing black opaque lingerie and fine denier stockings that complimented the ensemble.
"Not at all," she states taking a slow long breathe "I place my trust in you."
"Good" I state and step back "Onto the bed then please... on your back."
She doesn't question, she doesn't pause as she lowers her lingerie clad frame down onto the mattress, covered in a black Egyptian cotton sheet. She lets me restrain her. Thick leather cuffs attached to black nylon ropes, held attached to each corner of the bed frame, wrap around her wrists and ankles as she lays there facing the ceiling, a thick black leather collar wrapped around her slender neck. The myriad of candles around the mezzanine level flicker in the slight breeze casting shadows and a dancing orange glow. Rose Callaghan takes another deep breath as I walk slowly around the room. Ready and willing to submit to me once again.
I draw my own deep breath, trusting in the hold I have over her. Trusting the chemistry that's been built over months that's intensified over recent weeks. Recent weeks in which I've lulled Rose Callaghan into a web of trust and a web of deceit. Whatever she thinks I have in mind, she simply cannot imagine what's about to play out.
I stand over her, looking up but not raising her head she makes eye contact.
"A spider in a web" I state.
"I am" she softly states.
"No .... I am" I grin "That's an easy mistake to make Rose.... In this instance you're the prey.... I'm in control... you're trapped... so I'm the Spider."
Rose clears her throat a little, "I guess you are."
"The Spider paralyses its prey before feasting."
"Uh huh" she barely flinches but I watch her wrists gently tug at their restraint. "Disconcerting."
"Don't worry Detective Callaghan I'm not going to physically paralyse you...your restraint should be sufficient."
Moving along the left-hand side of the bed I sit alongside of her prone body.
"My words might though"
Her face turns to me a look of concern knits her brow a little
"What ...what do you mean?" She asks.
"I've not been entirely honest with you Rose."
**********
He was right, his words chilled her very soul.
His words paralyse her, held stretched across the bed by the restraints she could barely process what Andrew Baxter was telling her.
Except for he wasn't Andrew Baxter. He claimed his name was Logan Hughes, he openly professed to being the father of Jack Hughes. The same Jack Hughes she's spent the majority of the week pressing for a confession or at the very least information in relation to Stirchley Grange Mills.
The name Logan Hughes reminiscent, in her confused state she could place how or where she'd heard that name before.
She'd listened intently, shocked, confused and scared as he spoke. He knew every detail of the case, he knew everything.
"You don't have to discuss details ...you won't be telling me anything that I'm not already aware of" he'd softly stated brushing her fringe away from her forehead.
Her mind can't cope with the revelation, she didn't focus on his admission. Her mind is still on his previous almost rehearsed monologue. His confession to her wasn't rushed, it was calculated. Clearly with a measured tone he'd spoken while he'd sat alongside of her. She didn't object to his words, didn't physically protest against the restraint in which he holds her.
He was right.
She's paralysed.
**********
"This should change nothing between us Rose," I state looking into her confused blue green eyes. Her face almost expressionless her failure to fully comprehend my admission.
"I regret..." I offer on a lie "...I regret not telling you any of this sooner."
Standing I cast my eye over her perfect body, before deliberately turning my head away from her.
"I never meant for us to develop .... I never meant to fall for you... I never meant to fall in love."
"Why?" She hesitantly whispers her first dry croaky words in over fifteen minutes, "Why me?"
"Coincidence nothing more.... the night I first met you I had no idea who you were... you were a beautiful stranger in a bar I happened to be in." Again, the lies I speak come easily to me, I deliberately targeted her from the moment I'd encountered her in the basement of the Mills earlier that same day.
"Why ... why would you introduce yourself... as ...as ...as Andrew Baxter" she took a deep breath yet again.
"Well Logan Hughes was a bit too well known by your colleagues .... Andrews a pseudonym I've used for several years...if I'm confessing ...I might as well confess everything to you... nearly 3 years ago I was in trouble, financial trouble and emotional trouble".
Her gaze fixes on me sincerely despite everything I've thrown at her in the last quarter of an hour. The story I tell her laced with elements of the truth so well known to me now, so well-rehearsed that even I feel as though it's the truth these days.
"I made mistakes ...so many mistakes. I owed money I was caught up with unsavoury characters ...I had to disappear ...I had to walk away, and I did... I moved away... far away. I moved away living in the South of France a meagre simple existence only keeping in touch with one person... one person who I'd confided in and had trust in."
I shake my head "I only came back when I heard...when I heard about what Jack was getting involved with ...the company he was keeping ...the trouble he was involved with."
