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Stockholm Surrender Page 4
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I shucked away my knickers, clicked off the bedside lamp and slipped beneath my duvet.
It was some time before sleep enveloped me. My thoughts were full of the two men who had barged into my life without invitation. But finally I drifted into a world where I could be with Ty, where his smell and his taste and his gritty determination filled my mind and flooded my senses.
Bliss.
*
Bangs and heavy footsteps woke me in the dead of the night as the girls stumbled back into their rooms. There were guys’ voices too, mixed in with their giggles. Deep and gruff, laughing like booming drums.
I groaned and turned over, annoyed at being disturbed from my dreams.
Just as I was drifting back to sleep, something began knocking at the wall. Tara’s room was next to mine and she’d clearly gotten lucky, and not just with one guy but two, both giving her a wonderful time from the groans and calls of delight rumbling through to my room.
“Oh god, yes, like that.”
“Harder, fuck me harder.”
“Ah, babes, your tongue, ah, ah, ah.”
I tried not to listen but it was impossible not to. Soon my frustrated mind wandered to fantasies, the fantasy of having Ty in my bed again, the fantasy of having “two” Tys in my bed. That wasn’t possible, but hearing Tara enjoying a ménage added to the pit of despair I was wallowing in and further served to remind me that I hadn’t gotten lucky in any shape or form.
“Please, stop, ah, no, no, give me more, both of you.” Tara’s voice.
I buried my head beneath my pillow. Images of what she was asking to stop and then continue flooded my mind. Was she giving one guy oral sex while the other fucked her? Was she taking them both at the same time, one in her pussy, one in her ass?
A tremble of excitement shimmied over me at the thought of anal sex. I’d never tried it, never been comfortable enough with any of my past boyfriends. But the thought of what I’d always considered the most private part of my body being invaded, used as entry and not just exit, was a real turn-on.
Would I ever do that with Ty? Could I ever trust him enough?
I didn’t know.
It was a long time before Tara went quiet and even longer until I fell back to sleep.
*
“Fuck, Penny, what the hell have you done?” Nat froze and widened her eyes, her knife hovering above a slice of burned toast.
Self-consciously, I rubbed my stubbled patch and berated myself for not pulling on a hat before I stumbled from my room into the kitchen. But I was not at my best in the morning, not until I’d guzzled at least two mugs of coffee. And the fact that I’d had considerably less sleep than I needed because of Tara’s antics hadn’t helped.
“I, er, had a bit of an accident,” I said.
“No kidding.” She dropped the knife onto the breadboard, stepped up and stroked the tip of her finger over the bristles. “How did you do it?”
“Um, it was the straighteners. They must have had a short circuit or something, overheated.”
“What and burned your hair?”
“Yes, it was terrible—smoke, sizzling, even a flame at one point.”
“Bloody hell, did it burn your skin?”
“No, no, just my hair, thank goodness. But I had to chop off the scalded bit, it was black and crispy.”
“You poor thing, that’s awful. It will take weeks to grow back.” She frowned. “I didn’t think you used straighteners.”
“I don’t, not really. I was just trying a new style. You know, for next time I go out.”
“You should have come with us last night. Thirst was heaving with hot guys. Tara pulled two.” She giggled. “She couldn’t choose between them so took them both, greedy cow.”
“Mmm, I heard.”
“Oh, sorry, did we wake you?”
“No, I was up anyway, you know, trying to sort this out.” I pointed to my hair.
“I’ve got just the thing,” she said, giving a sympathetic smile.
She dashed into her room and by the time I’d used the bathroom she was back in the kitchen holding out a small, purple beret. “This will go with your style and if you sit it like this,” she rested it on my head at a jaunty angle, “no one will be any the wiser.”
I studied my reflection in a windowpane, my face crisscrossed by the strips of lead. The hat was cute and it was kind of my style. “Er, thanks, that’s great. Do you mind if I borrow it then?”
“Go ahead, your needs are greater than mine.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh shit, is that the time? I have to dash. Catch you later. I have to hand in that nutrition assignment by eight or Professor Darlington will have a stroke.”
I flicked on the kettle. “Good luck.”
“Yeah, I need it.” She scooped up a large bag bulging with folders, grabbed her toast and dashed off. The door at the end of the corridor slammed.
*
The first lecture of the morning was a discussion on criminal liability and within five minutes I knew it would give me brain ache. The lecturer’s voice didn’t help. She had a whiny, high-pitched squeaking tone and adjusted the round glasses on the bridge of her nose every thirty seconds.
Yawning, I copied down the details of actus reus. My focus was blurred and even my writing looked tired.
The professor started to drone on about “beyond reasonable doubt” and I fingered my beret, hoping it was still in position. It was. I glanced around the lecture theater. There must have been over sixty students all sitting at the tiered benches, but I didn’t know any of them. The girls on my corridor were doing different courses than me.
Everyone around me had their heads down and their pens scratching furiously across paper. The air of concentration was palpable. The silent, studied focus that I normally found soothing was oppressive today.
Perhaps I would just Google “reasonable doubt” later. That way I could drop my head in my hands and get a bit of sneaky shuteye. Catch up on some of the sleep I’d missed because of what Ty had stirred up in me and the sound of Tara’s conquests. I couldn’t walk out. I had another hour of this before there would be any chance of release. I was trapped in this lecture, held hostage—unfortunately not in a good way.
There was a sudden bang and the old oak door in the corner of the lecture room swung open. All pens stopped as everyone’s attention was directed toward the two policemen striding in. They wore stiff, dark uniforms and peaked hats. Each had an expression of grim determination.
“Er, can I help you?” the professor asked, poking at her glasses then twisting her hands around each other.
“I hope so,” the taller of the two policemen said, strolling toward the professor’s desk. His heavy black boots clicked on the wooden floor and the set of his shoulders oozed purpose. He took off his hat and sent his keen gaze over the sea of faces staring his way. “We’re looking for Penelope Tipping.”
My heart pounded.
Shit!
Ty must have delivered the lock of hair to my father already. Fast work. I was planning on calling Dad later and letting him know I was okay and not to panic if a piece of me was delivered. I’d wanted to keep a lid on his anxieties about my safety, not least because it would ease the way for a conversation about James’ case.
But it seemed Ty had beaten me to it. It wouldn’t go in his favor and now I felt like a truly terrible daughter.
The policeman folded his arms and widened his stance. “Miss Penelope Tipping,” he said again, more firmly this time.
“Yes, over here.” I flipped shut my notebook and stood. What choice did I have?
“Miss Tipping?” he asked, tilting his chin.
Nodding resignedly, I packed up my belongings, threw my rucksack over my shoulder and made my way down the central column of steps. Everyone was staring. I bet they were all wondering what criminal offense I’d committed. Was it certain beyond “reasonable doubt”? Would I be sent to jail? Could they follow my case? A murmuring hum of conversation began to build.
r /> “Miss Tipping,” the policeman said when I reached him. “Your father sent us to ensure your safety and deliver you to him. I hope it’s not too inconvenient.”
“Well, it’s not terribly convenient. As you can see I am in the middle of a lecture.” I knew I should feel grateful that my father cared so much that he sent in the cavalry, all guns blazing, but I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, and in turn angry.
The policeman pulled a sympathetic face. “I’m sorry about that, but the foreign secretary is expecting you within the hour.”
“And what the foreign secretary wants the foreign secretary gets.”
“Yes, miss, that’s how it goes.”
I rolled my eyes and looked over to my lecturer. “I’m so sorry for the disturbance.”
“No problem, Penny. Let me know if there is anything I can do.” She fidgeted from one foot to the other.
I smiled my thanks. Unless she could persuade my father not to blow a gasket when he saw me or convince him to race to Thailand to free the best friend of the man I was obsessing about, I didn’t think she could be much help.
“This way,” the second policeman said, holding open the door and gesturing for me to go through it.
Pushing my shoulders down and holding my head high, I stepped out of the lecture theater, flanked between the two burly officers. The din of excited conversation followed me like a sonic boom. Clearly I’d created quite a talking point.
A sudden lump grew in my throat and I wished Trinny was at my side. She understood what it was like to be me better than anyone. She’d seen my father’s political career grow over the years we’d spent at school together. Our parents were good friends and she always managed to say the right thing when I was struggling with being the daughter of a public figure. Trouble was, she was four hundred miles away at university in Edinburgh.
“Are you unharmed?” one policeman asked as we stepped from the building.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I snapped. It was that or cry. How had it come to this?
“We’ll have to take a statement from you.”
“Later. Once I’ve spoken to my father.”
“Of course.”
Without another word, they escorted me to a waiting car, fortunately unmarked, and within minutes we were zipping through the traffic toward London. My heart felt swollen and my gut clenched. It was happening all over again. My life was out of control. My parents were upset and worried and I was on my own, wanting and waiting for someone I couldn’t have and shouldn’t want to have.
*
“Penny, Jesus, what the hell do you think you’re playing at?” Dad jumped to his feet and leaned over his wide desk. He pressed his knuckles down on piles of paperwork and narrowed his eyes. He reminded me of a forest gorilla getting ready to bang his chest or charge, all anger and aggression. “Have you any idea what terror your actions have caused your mother and I? I can’t believe you would do this, Penny, really I can’t.”
“Hi, Dad.” I shut the door of his study and breathed in the heavy beeswax polish used on the mahogany paneling.
“Don’t hi Dad me. I want to know why you didn’t call me, why you didn’t call the police as soon as this sick bastard made contact with you again. Damn it, Penny. What is the matter with you?”
For the hundredth time I cursed myself for not picking up the phone to him last night. I really should have pushed my problems aside and thought of my parents. But I hadn’t, and it was impossible to turn back time no matter how much I wanted to.
I stepped onto the plush, bottle-green carpet. “I was going to call later today. I know how busy you always are first thing in the morning catching up with overnight emails.”
“You really think any of that is important when he has been near you again?” Dad raised a clenched fist and banged it down on the table. Coffee sloshed over the rim of his mug. “For crying out loud, he took a piece of your hair and sent it to me, told me next time it would be flesh coming through the post. Flesh, bone and blood. What kind of sick, depraved bastard would do that?”
The finger and toe comment Ty had made in the library rose in my mind. I gulped. Surely he wouldn’t. He wasn’t a bad guy, he was one of the good ones. He was trying to get his best friend out of jail, for heaven’s sake.
“I’ve been beside myself with worry,” Dad was saying, “the thought of him in the UK and near you. How the hell did he find out where you were? I thought you’d been careful not to make any remarks online about where you’re studying.” His cheeks were flushed and spots of moisture sat above his top lip. He looked as though he might pop. “And this,” he said, a wobble invading his voice, “was what greeted me in the mailbox this morning.” He held up the small zipped bag containing the chunk of my fringe. “It would have been nice to be forewarned, to know that you were okay before I had to see it and wonder if it had been chopped from a corpse.”
I stared at my hair squashed flat in the bag. Last time I’d seen it Ty had held it. Then my heart had been pounding and my body craving the hot man before me—lust had consumed me. He’d made me feel alive, alive and vibrant and ready to reach out for everything life had to offer whether it was good or bad, right or wrong. I felt my eyes sting with tears, little puddles collected on my lower lids and blurred my vision.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Dad said, softening his voice and stepping around the desk. “We’ll nail the bastard this time. No more cock-ups in the forensic department like there were in Australia. This has already been tested for fingerprints.” He tossed the bag containing my hair onto his desk.
I swallowed tightly and swiped at a tear that had broken free and was running down my cheek. “Did you find any?” I remembered Ty’s gloved hands, sliding around my neck, cupping my breasts. Surely he hadn’t been careless when handling and posting the bag.
“Well, no, unfortunately not, but if you give the police all the details then we’ll find the piece of evidence the dumb git has left. There’s bound to be something.” He passed me a white handkerchief from his pocket and rested a hand on my shoulder.
“No, it’s no use.” I shook my head and blotted my eyes.
“Why ever not?”
“He grabbed me in an alley behind the university. I can’t even remember which one. It all happened so quickly.”
Dad’s face crumpled into a pained frown. He reached for my other shoulder, studied me intently. “It was definitely the same man though?”
“Yes, I couldn’t forget him if I tried.” But not for the reasons Dad was thinking. I would never forget the way he kissed me, the texture of his golden skin or the steely hardness of his cock as it ground against me, rammed into me.
“He must have been pretty damn close with the scissors.” Fear flashed in his eyes.
I shook my head. “Not scissors.” As soon as I said it I regretted it. I really shouldn’t scare him any more than he was.
He reached for my beret and slid it off. Tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth as he traced his fingertip over my stubbly patch of skin. “A knife?” he whispered.
I took hold of my beret and nodded.
“Jesus, darling, thank goodness he didn’t…” In a sudden flurry he dragged me against his chest, tucking my head beneath his chin and holding me tight the way he used to when I was a little girl. “We’ll get him, Penny. I promise. I’ll hunt him down myself if I have to, and I’ll rip the limbs from his body. By the time I’ve finished with him he’ll wish he were dead, because anyone who harms even a hair on my baby’s head has just unleashed my wrath.”
“I’m okay,” I said, breathing in the wonderfully comforting scent of his old-fashioned aftershave. Dad always made me feel safe and protected. The experience of being loved by him was a wonderful part of my life, even if his protective streak was off the mark this time. But who could blame him? We were hardly an ordinary family and this was an extraordinary situation. Now I felt even more awful for being so irritated at his sending the police to collect me. I’d frightened hi
m terribly by not contacting him last night. “Really, Dad, I’m okay.” I hugged him a little tighter by way of apology.
“You’re okay this time, but what about the next?” he said onto the top of my head. “What about when he comes for you again? I’m afraid you will have to stay here, where I have police surveillance outside the house 24/7.”
I pushed from his hold and looked into his face. “But I need to be in Oxford studying, I have my first set of exams soon.”
He shook his head in the resolute way he always did when he wouldn’t change his mind.
“Dad, no, please.”
“Penny, this is how it has to be until this madman is caught. I won’t have you at risk. I’ll have all your professors contacted, they can email your notes and lectures and you can work from here. I’ll pay for a private tutor if we need to.”
“No, seriously, that is not going to work for me.” I twisted from his embrace and walked to the window, looked through the net curtain at the front garden and the high cream walls surrounding our London house. Although I could understand Dad’s point of view, that didn’t change the fact that I had to be in Oxford. There was no way Ty could get to me here. It would be impossible for him to penetrate this level of security.
“Penny, I don’t know why you are being so stubborn. This is for your own good.”
“I’m not being stubborn. I just don’t see why I should let some…some moron dictate where I live my life.” I repositioned my beret and turned back to face the center of the room. Part of me wished I could tell him the truth so he would stop looking at me as though he didn’t know me. But that couldn’t happen; the truth had to be kept locked up inside me, even if it hurt.
Dad shoved his hands in the pockets of his neat, charcoal-colored pants and set his jaw. “It’s not like it’s forever. The British police will soon have him cornered.”
“But what if they don’t? He’s clever, he’s sly and he’s always one step ahead.” I paused as my brain sifted through my options. “The only way to really protect me is to look into the case in Thailand he’s always on about. James Hill. He wants him freed. It must be his…his son or nephew or something.”