Paying Her Debt (5 page)

“You are feeling guilty then?” George asked.

“Maybe, I don’t now.” Alex paced again, unable to explain to
George the thoughts tumbling through his mind. The girl was getting under his
skin, something, and he didn’t know what, pulling his thoughts back to her over
and over again.
If only I hadn’t dreamt of her!
“Guilty perhaps for the
hastiness of my actions,” Alex said slowly. “For not giving her more chance to
explain. And there’s something…something I can’t put my finger on with her.”

“You say you don’t want her though. So what the hell is it?”
George prompted.

Alex walked over to the window and looked across the street. He
could see, even from this distance, the peak of his store several blocks away.
He waited for the familiar jolt of pride, but none came. He appraised the whole
area, grimacing slightly when he found  St. Paul’s. He’d built in Bristol because the area was swimming in money, old and new. But like all places there was
a seedier side, the rich and the poor, separated by a mere handful of
buildings. Alex found himself hoping Miss Jones did not live in St. Paul’s. He did not like the idea of her being prey to the criminals who skulked there.

“I don’t know George,” he said eventually. “But there’s something,
and I can’t ignore it. The wallet situation is the perfect reason for me to
find out what the hell is going on.”

“You’re going to go find her?”

“That I am, and once I do, I’ll get to the bottom of this little
mystery.”

“The mystery that is sleeping beauty?”

“The mystery that is Miss Jones.”

Chapter
Seven

Andy couldn’t understand why she was so bloody exhausted. She’d
only worked for six hours yet it felt like sixty. Her whole body shook with it,
her eyes gritty and her head spinning. She’d worked nearly a year at this pace
so why the hell was she feeling like this?
Maybe it’s all catching up?

Andy grimaced. Well, she wouldn’t fucking let it get to her. She
had no time for nonsense such as tiredness. She needed another job. The manager
at the hotel had no extra hours going spare. Without the Finest Foods paycheck,
Andy calculated she’d only just make her rent and utilities, with a tiny amount
leftover for food. There’d be nothing to put towards the debts, but she
had
to pay them! People were counting on her to do so.

She crossed the empty street and considered her options. It was
time to hit the job market again, and Andy had no choice but to do it with a
vengeance. She’d go home, get cleaned up, and start looking. There had to be
something! Andy wasn’t proud, not anymore. She’d take whatever she could get. Cleaning,
waitressing, stacking shelves, whatever was on offer she’d grab it and be
grateful—hell, she’d strip if she have to. Smiling a little, she thought of her
tiny breasts and flat ass. They probably wouldn’t even take her on.

 
If only I hadn’t fallen asleep….
The words repeated, as
they had throughout the night. Every time Andy scrubbed a toilet or Hoovered a
carpet, the enormity of the situation hit her. She wished over and over again
that Iannou hadn’t come visiting. On any other day she’d have been in her
aisle, sleep kept at bay by the non-stop customers asking for help or needing
to be waited on.
Damn it.

Thinking of Iannou brought her mind around to the other issue.
The wallet sat snuggly in her bag. She had to return it, and soon, before her
nerves, or the strange jitters, failed her. Rick would know where he was
staying. It would be a simple matter of going to the hotel and asking to see
him. She could just drop it in his hands and leave without too much fuss.

She crossed another street and once again his face filled her
mind and once again Andy was shocked by the fission of lust that shot through
her, the hardening of her nipples and the twinge of her pussy. It was
ridiculous, stupid—she couldn’t understand it. Ever since Pete she’d sworn
never to allow a man to touch her again. After all it was due to him and her
foolish heart that she found herself in such a shitty situation. Men were
bastards. It was as simple as that. Andy would never allow one to have her in
his power.
Never again.

Besides, if truth be told, as much as Andy loved Pete she’d never
been overly impressed with their sex life. She’d always felt something was
missing, like she couldn’t really be the woman she wanted to be with him. Andy shuddered
as she remembered her suggestions to Pete. He’d been shocked, almost outraged.
Okay, maybe some of it was a little odd. Like the fact that she’d wanted him to
fuck her mouth, to bend her over, and pound her into submission…. But others were
things Andy knew other people did all the time. Such as riding him, and having
him lick her clit. She sighed, her body heating up at the thoughts… only it
wasn’t Pete doing them to her. It was Iannou….

A car shot past, pulling her from her filthy thoughts, and Andy
swallowed down the lump in her throat. Silly really, but cars still made her
nervous, even now. But then being trapped in one for over twenty-four hours
would do that to a person. She shivered as the memories of that night intruded.
Maybe because she was so tired, or maybe because she couldn’t stop them, Andy
let the memories wash over her. Replaying them like a horror movie you don’t
want to watch but end up doing so anyway, then regretting after the fact.

It had started like any other. She’d left work late, set off to
their home in the hills—the nicer part of town—and thought about what to cook
for dinner. Everything seemed so normal. Andy had no idea how quickly her life
was about to change. But then she hadn’t counted on a drunk driver plowing into
the side of her little hatchback and sending her over the side of the hill.
Straight to the bottom, where she’d waited, trapped, for over a day.

Her back ached, almost in remembrance of those hours. Andy had
been lucky, any longer, and she might have ended up with irreparable spinal
damage. She’d spent a month in the hospital recovering, believing it to be the
worst month of her life. If only she’d known the worst was yet to come.

Crossing through one of the side alleys, Andy made her way into the
shitty part of town. The part the locals—the rich locals—liked to pretend
didn’t exist. Andy hadn’t really known about it either until circumstances
dropped her into it. After living in one of the apartments deep in the heart of
the southern district Andy was well used to it. Whores, drug addicts,
pimps—she’d seen it all, and only her determination to get away one day made it
bearable.

 Home, Iannou, job hunting. She called the little list to mind as
she ducked around a side street.
Maybe I’ll find something today. Then it
won’t matter that I’ve been fired. I’ll still be able to eat….

Andy became aware of a sound behind her, and the skin along her arms
prickled. If only she’d had enough money for the bus! It stopped directly
outside her apartment, saving her the trouble of dodging through the crazy maze
of little streets necessary to make her way home as quickly as possible. But
the meager change left in her pocket had to be hoarded. Who knew when she’d
next earn more?

Another sound, like the thud of a footstep, and Andy’s heart
raced. It was still early in the morning. The streets still quiet. Too early
surely for the sort of scum who wouldn’t think twice about harassing her at
night time?

Hurrying onwards, Andy shot out of the alley onto one of the main
streets. Though deserted, Andy knew it was better than walking through the
alleys—despite the fact they’d get her home sooner. Parents would start taking
kids to school soon. People that bothered worked would start setting off. She’d
be fine.

Another sound and Andy knew what it was. Footsteps… speeding up.
Fuck,
fuck, fuck.
Adrenaline flooded her, and she turned swiftly, but it wasn’t
swift enough. The blow hit her on the side of her face before she knew what was
happening, and pain exploded. She dropped to the concrete floor, unable to do
anything else. Her back screamed at her from the jarring motion. Her vision
blurred.

Awareness filled her mind, and Andy knew she needed to get away. She
tried to stand up, ready to flee but another blow, this one to her ribs,
knocked the breath out of her, and Andy hunched in on herself as pain tore
through her body. Her assailant kicked her, the bastard, whoever he was, and
she felt herself retching against it, trying to draw breath.

Hands were over her, along her body, and Andy sucked in air
before striking out, desperate to get those hands off her. Another blow, this
one to her stomach, and Andy’s whole body clenched in pain, a sob erupting.

“Stay still, bitch.”

The words were said with a snarl, and her vision began to return,
making out the shape of a man bent over her. Andy screamed, as loud as she
could, and he smacked her around the face, cutting the scream off and leaving
her head ringing.

His hands grabbed the bag, pulling it from her and Andy tried
desperately to hold on.
Not the bag!
Please not the bag.
But she
didn’t have the strength to hold it, and her attacker ripped it from her numb
grip, before kicking her once more—in the exact same spot. She vomited. The scanty
contents of her stomach falling onto the floor next to her. Pain lashed through
her. Dizziness descended. 

It was only when she felt the blood dripping into her mouth, and
the blackness claimed her that Andy remembered.

Iannou’s wallet was in that bag.

Chapter
Eight

“There’s someone here to see you, Alex.”

Alex looked up from his pile of papers. “I’ve got to get through
this lot, George. Can’t you deal with them?”

“Not sure to be honest,
Vre.
He asked directly for you.”

Alex cast his friend a dark look. “You know what my plans are
once I’ve gone over these accounts.”

George nodded. “Off to hunt out sleeping beauty, no?”

“The longer it takes me to go through them….”

George shrugged. “Sure, but is occurs to me that the man waiting
downstairs is one you’ll want to see. It’s that manager from the store. Rick
was it? He seemed to know plenty about Miss Jones. He was concerned about her
if I remember correctly. I did wonder if they were involved but he wasn’t
vehement enough for that. Likely he’s been sniffing around her though. He had
that sort of vibe to him.”

“You think I should pump him for information? Seems a little
underhand, George. I’ll find out whatever I want to know from the waif
herself.” And he would. As soon as he was finished with the accounts, Alex had
every intention of finding Miss Jones. What he was planning to do once he found
her he didn’t know. He’d think about that later.
Don’t forget the wallet.
Yes,
the wallet, the main reason for tracking her down.
Yep, you tell yourself
that.

“You need to know where she lives,” George said, interrupting
Alex’s internal argument. “He’ll know.”

Alex nodded, struck by the truth. “I’m a little disappointed,” he
confessed. “That she hasn’t come by with the wallet.”

“It’s only been a day. She’s probably working.”

“I fired her George. Or she fired herself, damn. You know what I
mean!”

“I meant her maid job.”

Running a hand through his hair, Alex tried to understand what
the hell was going through his own mind. Every time a knock sounded on the door,
or the phone rung, he’s thought it might be her—and to his shock his cock
hardened in anticipation. Worse, his heart raced and he was almost… excited to
see her? Dream or not, protestations to George or not, it might be time to
re-evaluate the effect a mere hour in Miss Jones’s company seemed to have had
on him. The more he knew. The better prepared he’d be.

“Send him up.”

A few minutes later, Rick came into the suite. He pulled at his
neck tie and seemed to be sweating slightly. Alex eyed him carefully, wondering
just what part this man played in the waif’s life.

“What is Miss Jones’s given name?” he asked before he even knew
he was going to.

Rick flushed and fidgeted, clearly nervous. “Andy, well Andrea,
but we all call her Andy.”

Shock slammed Alex like a blow to his body. The coincidence was
beyond bizarre, and he clenched his fists, unsure what to make of it. “That’s a
Greek name,” he said slowly. His
Yiayia’s
name, in fact. The woman who sent
him to this town in the first place.

“I want you to tell me everything you know about her,” Alex
demanded. And almost winced as he saw George, from the corner of his vision,
smiling broadly.

“Well, sir,” Rick replied. “That’s why I’m here.”

“You’ve come to plead for her job again, no? There’s no need man.
I will take care of Miss. Jones.”

His assistant manager shook his head. “No sir, it’s not that.”

The man was so deferential it was painful, and Alex had no time
for beating about the bush. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. “Then
why are you here?”

“It
is
about Andy,” Rick replied, swallowing visibly. “She
asked me not to tell you, begged in fact, but I’m not sure what else to do. She
won’t take any help from me, and up until yesterday you were her employer, so….”
He stiffened. “I figured the least you could do was help her out.”

A strange sort of feeling slithered down Alex’s spine, and he
knew. He just knew that he was not going to like whatever his assistant manager
had to say. “Spit it out then, man.”

Rick sniffed, his moment of bravado fading, and he wiped away the
beads of sweat on his forehead, before answering. “Andy was attacked on her way
home from work this morning, from her job cleaning at the Haversham. The
hospital phoned me because I’m down as her emergency contact. She doesn’t have
anyone else, you see.”