Betrayed (2 page)

CHAPTER
2

Rick’s heart was still racing, and his mind was completely numb with shock. He had trudged back home and sat by the window looking at the lights outside, through the crack the vase had made last night. Though it was almost five in the morning now, it was still dark and silent outside. The heavy weather was keeping the people in deep slumber. Rick hadn’t had a wink of sleep, and all he could do was stare at the street lights. When the lights went out and the world around started to stir, Rick could feel the numbness fade, being replaced with rage and anxiety. He began to curse himself for not being able to corral the money when a voice inside him taunted at his folly of getting money from dangerous people in the first place. He let out a cry of frustration and kicked the wall, regretting it the next moment. He limped into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. He needed his brain to work, and coffee was a good beginning.

The first sip made him feel better instantly.
He picked up his cellphone from the mantel shelf and fished out Steven’s number. He did not have a choice anymore; he had to get hold of the money. The Green brothers had clearly told him that they would let Tracy free only when he brought them the money. They gave him three days, after which - Rick did not want to think about it.

“Hello?” the voice cracked through the phone.

“Steven? Hey, Rick here. Are you free?” asked Rick.

“Rick! How are you? Yes, I’m good. I just flew back in.”

Rick requested Steven meet him at the Blue Café but he refused to travel again, being pretty jetlagged. He asked Rick to come by his place if it was really urgent. After a quick change of clothes, Rick hailed another cab to Steven’s apartment. He had parked the Mercedes outside his house and covered it up with a sheet. He didn’t want his neighbors questioning him about the broken glass.

Rick was certain he would lose his job if he didn’t turn up at the office today. He made a plan in his head. First
, he would quickly explain the story to Steven, and Steven would get the money in an hour. He would then go to West Care which was a five minute drive from Steven’s apartment, give them the money, get Tracy, put her safely in a cab and head to his office on the other side of town. He would get there by ten, just in time. The plan was straight and simple. Being confident, he closed his eyes to take a short nap. Before drifting off to sleep, he day- dreamed about quitting his job and being given the position of managing director in a bigger company.

***

The sudden brake and blare of music jerked him from his thoughts. They had just entered the North side, and the cab was stuck behind a flash mob of some sort.

“They are good, aren’t t
hey? It’s for the election. Nice to see the kids involving themselves in something productive, eh?” said the cab driver.

“By dancing in the middle of the road and wasting our t
ime? Yes, productive indeed,” Rick mocked in annoyance. The cab driver raised his eyebrows at him through the rear mirror but talked no more. Rick looked through the window at the opposite road. They were parked right outside the most popular and expensive hotel in Chicago, the Grand Turn. It was seventy six story’s tall and celebrities, millionaires and other famous people regularly checked in. As he moved his eyes into the spacious lobby inside, he spotted a familiar face seated on the sofa. He narrowed his eyes and recognized her as Regan Solinski, the congressman’s daughter. The red-streaked hair was unmistakable. She was a beautiful woman, in her mid-twenties. She was kind-hearted and known for helping charities by giving them both her money and time. She stood by her father’s side and was mostly seen around Chicago going to parties and press conferences with him. It was surprising to see her seated at the Grand Turn all by herself.

“That was great! Well, we can move on
now,” the cab driver said.

“Please drive faster
,” Rick mumbled, looking at his watch.

***

The door was opened by a man in pajamas with a coffee mug in his hand. He was five-foot-seven and well-built with an overestimated French beard embellishing his round face.

“Rick! How are you? It’s been a long time
,” he said, ushering Rick inside.

“I need your help, Steve. I have no time left
, and Tracy is in trouble.”

After yet another hasty explanation, Rick desperately looked at Steven who
stared back at him with a shocked expression on his face.

“The Green brothers? Were you out of your mind Rick? They are the worst!” he exclaimed.

“I know, I know! Please, Steve, you have to help me.”

“That’s an awful lot of money, Rick. I can get you about
$25,000 but anything more than that will take me almost a week and that will be too late.”

“What am I going to do?” Rick
asked sitting down, color draining from his face.

“
Hey, I’ll think of something, alright? Here, drink some scotch. I’ll be right back with the money,” he said, handing him a bottle of scotch from the kitchen cabinet. He put his coat on and grabbed his car keys. “The bank is right around the corner. I’ll be back in twenty. Don’t worry, Rick, everything will work out.”

Rick opened the bottle and
poured himself a shot of scotch then turned on the television to take his mind off of the mess he had gotten himself into. The weather forecast was on, indicating a huge snowstorm was heading their way. Rick groaned in frustration and hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as the weatherman predicted it to be. He surfed the channels twice but nothing seemed to distract or remotely interest him. He switched the TV off and poured himself another shot of scotch. Feeling dizzy, he placed the bottle on the table, noticing a photograph peeping out of a folder of documents. All he could see was part of a woman with an arm around her shoulder, and the red streaked hair cajoled his curiosity. He pulled out the photograph - Regan and her father, the congressman, stood smiling at him. It was a photograph taken at the press conference held last week. He opened the document, and his eyes focused immediately on a few words - congressman, affair and Ms. Shirley Cannigan.

The door clicked open
, and Steven looked startled after seeing the document in Rick’s hand. He quickly walked over to Rick and pulled it out of his hands, replacing it with money.

“
What the hell, Rick? That’s top secret. If that gets out, especially to the media, it will cause chaos at the election - not to mention my job. Can I trust you to keep it to yourself?” he asked Rick, annoyed and visibly upset.

“Yeah. Yes
, of course. I should get going.”

“Thank you. I’ll try and arrange for the rest of the money
,” he said, leading Rick to the door.

Unstead
y and his head swarming with thoughts of the congressman giving him a suitcase full of cash, Rick left the apartment. The weather had gotten worse, and Rick could hardly stand straight. After a lot of struggle, he got into a cab. His mind rushed to the idea of the congressman giving him money to keep him quiet. That
was
blackmailing, and he debated with himself if he really had to do it. He could wait for Steven to arrange for the rest of the money or he could go to the congressman right now. It was a foolish idea but the congressman wouldn’t want to risk his name, power and position for a few thousand dollars, he rationalized, talking it through in his head.

“Stop
. Stop!” he shouted at the cab driver as they passed by the Grand Turn hotel.

The
cab screeched to a halt, and Rick stumbled out after throwing a few dollars at the cab driver. The wind was stinging cold and strong. The snow pellets felt like stones as they rained over him. The roads were already covered with a thick layer, and he slowly trudged to the entrance of the Grand Turn hotel.

His inside
s churned with nervousness. The huge reception and waiting area with its high ceiling did not help him. He was dizzy with the enormity of the lobby. His eyes searched for Regan but he couldn’t find her.

“Excuse me sir, can I help you?”
the receptionist called out. Rick was just a foot from the counter.

“Yes. I am looking for Ms. Regan Solinski. I was told she was here. Um, I’m a friend. She was supposed to have been waiting for me here at the lobby, half an hour ago. Was she here?” he asked, taking the chance.

“Oh, yes, of course, sir. She was certainly waiting for someone but then she went to the bar. It’s down the hall, to the left.”

“Thank you so much. I shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer
,” Rick said and quickly walked away. He smiled at people as he walked past them but they paid no attention to him. He wondered how Tracy was holding up as he spotted Regan.

“One more, please
,” she told the bartender.

“
It’s nine in the morning and that’s your fourth shot, Miss. Are you sure?” he asked with genuine concern.

“Yes
, I am. Keep it coming.”

“Well, alright, as you wish
,” he said, shaking his head as he placed another shot of tequila in front of her.

She gulped it down and waited for the pain to be washed away. When nothing happened and the pain only got worse, she asked for another shot. It had been the worst day of her life
, and all she wanted to do was forget about it for a moment. A man came up to the counter and asked for a glass of vodka. She looked him over. He was wearing blue jeans and a white shirt with a blue blazer over it. She presumed him to be in his late twenties. A few creases on his forehead and the combed style of his bronze hair told her that. He was sexy, and she found herself being drawn to him. His blue eyes met hers, and he gave her a polite, nervous smile.

“Hello,
how are you?” she asked, her voice ringing in her head, the alcohol making her head spin.

“Hi. I’m fine. How are you?” he asked.

He seemed pretty nervous and drunk. She stood watching him without an answer. The bartender came over with their drinks, placing each in front of them. They gulped down the contents at the same time and smacked their glasses on the table.

“You are obviously nervous about something
,” she said with a wink.

“And you are obviously trying to forget something
,” he said.

“Touché. I had the worst day of my life. But I can’t let you in on it
,” she said, signaling for another shot.

“I bet I know what
’s on your mind,” Rick said slowly, looking into her eyes as if deciding on something.

“Oh, yes? Can you r
ead my mind? Go ahead. Tell me what I’m thinking right now,” she said, smiling mischievously. She pushed herself forward and saw his eyes move down to check out her cleavage. She was wearing a low necked, tight black dress which hugged her figure. It was a little above her knees and rode up to her upper thighs showing off her bare legs. She smirked and beckoned him to speak.

“How about a dance first?” he asked

“Sounds good. But I’m not sure if I can stand,” she said, trying to get up. She swayed, and his strong hands kept her from falling.

They moved to the dance floor and danced for a while. There was hardly a
nyone on the dance floor as it was quite early in the morning.

“I think I’m gonna throw up
,” she shouted over the music. She ran out to the end of the bar where a sign indicated the women’s restroom. She banged the door open, went straight to the first cubicle and hurled. She felt a hand touch her back, rubbing it.

“Ugh, go away.” She tried to push him away.

“It’s alright,” he resisted and continued to rub her back.

When she felt better and rinsed her mouth, t
hey walked back to the bar, and she pulled him towards the exit.

“I haven’t paid
. . .” Rick said, looking at the bartender who was looking at them.

“Don’t worry. He
’ll put it on my tab,” she cut him off and signaled the bartender who nodded at her.

“I think I should get going. It was nice meeting you
,” she said, smiling, as they walked down the hall.

“Don’t go yet. I need to ask you something
,” he said quickly.

“What is it?”

He seemed to be fighting for words. She stood waiting, and he stared at her - unable to speak. He looked even worse than before, and the alcohol seemed to have drained out of his system. Running his hand over his tousled hair, he shut his eyes and ground his teeth.

“I- You- What’s your name?”
he stammered.

“Oh! I’m Regan. You?”

“I’m Rick. Hi!” he said, looking defeated.” Can I walk you to your car? Are you sure you can drive?”

“
Yea, come on. Well, I have a driver waiting so it won’t be a problem. Moreover, I’m feeling fine now. That’s one good thing about puking,” Regan said, laughing.

“Good!” Rick
said, laughing.

They walked towards the reception
area but were stopped short by a crowd of people apparently having an argument with the manager. They turned towards the door and were surprised by what they saw outside - white snow and a raging snowstorm. The snow was almost a foot above the ground.