The Power Trip
‘How is that possible?’
‘Who knows? But whatever it takes, I’m going to figure it out. What did you do with the photos you were sent?’
‘I destroyed them.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I did – and you know something else? Whoever sent them knew that’s what we’d do.’
‘You think?’
‘I know, ’cause here’s the deal: they must’ve been fakes.’
‘You were in the photos, Flynn. I saw them.’
‘So were you, sweetheart. With several guys. Want to address that?’
‘It’s impossible.’
‘And in one of them you were with Ham . . .’
As soon as he said Hammond’s name, it suddenly all became clear. Ham had always been jealous of his relationship with Sierra; he’d often claimed that since he’d seen Sierra first, she should’ve been with him. When that logic didn’t get him anywhere, he’d taken to speaking badly about her at any opportunity, calling her all kind of sick names. It was college guys’ shit, but Flynn had made sure it had never gotten back to her.
Then when he’d left for London, Hammond had obviously moved right in and seized his opportunity, lying to her that Flynn had asked him to watch out for her. What a lowdown sneaky son of a bitch.
‘You’re not going to like this,’ Flynn said, trying to keep his anger under control, ‘but I think I’ve figured out exactly what happened.’
‘You have?’ she said tentatively. ‘Please share.’
‘You and I were taken for one big ride. And you know who was manipulating it all?’
‘Who?’
‘Your future husband.’
Sierra felt her heart accelerate. Hammond was responsible? Could this possibly be true?
She could only come up with one answer.
Yes. For Hammond had proved that he was capable of anything.
Chapter Fifty-Four
‘It’s time to move,’ Cruz announced over breakfast in Acapulco.
‘Move where?’ asked Ina, channelling her best Salma Hayek in a form-fitting turquoise dress, her overly large breasts spilling out, nipples permanently erect – the result of her breast enlargement surgery.
‘Nothin’ to do with you,’ Sergei said, slurping strong black coffee from a ceramic mug. ‘Me and your brother got business to conduct. You stay out of it.’
Ina frowned. If it wasn’t for her, Sergei would never have met Cruz. She knew for a fact that they’d done many a deal together, so shouldn’t she be getting commission? Or at the very least shouldn’t Sergei be dumping the American puta he kept stashed in his Mexico City apartment and start thinking of marrying her? It wasn’t right. She felt insulted.
Now her brother and Sergei were planning something big, and they didn’t care to tell her what it was, which infuriated her.
Fortunately she’d learned the art of spying from her brother, and she knew their plan had something to do with a yacht they were about to hi-jack and hold for ransom. A yacht that was cruising the Sea of Cortez. A little off Cruz’s regular beat, but she supposed he knew what he was doing. Her brother had cojones the size of Cuba.
Ina had always had a bit of a crush on Cruz, although he’d never paid her much attention. Her brother was more exciting than Sergei, who had a vicious temper and wasn’t that adventurous in bed. Sergei had never gone down on her, and several of Cruz’s conquests had confided in the past that her brother was a master in that department.
Truth was that if Cruz wasn’t her brother, she would’ve definitely had the hots for him. Too bad they were related.
Forbidden love. Why was it forbidden when it seemed so right?
‘We leave tonight,’ Cruz said.
‘About time,’ Sergei said.
‘Where we goin’?’ Ina enquired.
Both men ignored her.
* * *
Sergei had arranged to rent a villa on a very large private estate outside Cabo: a sprawling villa off the beaten track, with beach access and no neighbours. Cruz’s team of misfits had already taken up residence, busily preparing for their strike against The Bianca, making sure they had everything they needed. Two powerful speedboats, supplies, rifles, guns.
Cruz had trained them well. His men were Somalians who spoke no English, but they sure as hell understood exactly what he wanted. Over the last few years he’d made them richer than they could ever have imagined. He was their boss, and they did whatever they were instructed to do.
Sergei was unknown to them. However, if Cruz indicated he was the man, as long as there was money to be made, they were prepared to work for him too.
Sergei brought several of his personal bodyguards to the villa. Stoic men of Russian descent, they did not mix with the Somalians, considering themselves far superior.
The plan had not included bringing Ina with them too, although, since she apparently knew more than she should, Sergei had finally agreed that it would be better if she came.
Cruz had not objected. What did he care? His sister could make herself useful; she could keep Sergei busy in the bedroom and out of his way.
When taking over a boat, everyone had to know what they were doing. Gaining control was a fast and furious thing – there could be no mistakes. The day they hit The Bianca, Cruz did not relish the thought of taking Sergei along on the ride. Sergei wasn’t a professional hijacker, which meant he could well turn out to be a liability. Unfortunately, Sergei had insisted he be present. ‘I want to watch Aleksandr Kasianenko’s fuckin’ face when we take over his yacht,’ he’d growled. ‘That bastard is responsible for my brother’s death, and now I will see that he pays.’
The details of exactly how Aleksandr would pay were still milling around in Sergei’s head.
It would be long and painful. Of that he was sure.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Lori was basking in her time with Luca, because even though he was a huge star and world-famous, he was so down to earth and so much fun. She couldn’t help wondering what he was doing with the crusty uptight Englishman who had practically ignored her all through last night’s dinner. What could Luca possibly see in Jeromy Milton-Gold? Jeromy was not even attractive, with his long thin nose and small squinty eyes. And judging from the previous evening, he certainly wasn’t loaded with charm.
The island was such an idyllic paradise, Lori kept on wishing that Cliff had come with her. It was an experience not to be missed. On the other hand, Luca seemed quite happy that his significant other had failed to make the effort, and she could understand why.
‘Jeromy’s not like us,’ Luca confided. ‘He’s more into indoor activities, if you get what I mean.’
‘Sex?’ Lori questioned, tilting her head.
‘Not my kind of sex,’ Luca retorted, grimacing.
‘You’re gay,’ Lori said boldly. ‘Doesn’t that mean you’re up for anything?’
‘Not me,’ Luca said quickly. ‘I’m a one-on-one kinda guy.’
‘Yet the one you’ve chosen is Jeromy.’
‘Here’s the situation,’ Luca explained. ‘I fell straight out of the closet into his arms. He kind of took me over.’ A meaningful pause. ‘Lately I’ve been thinking it might be time to break away.’
‘Why?’ she asked curiously. ‘Have you met someone else?’
‘No, but Jeromy’s life-style’s not for me.’
‘And you’ve only just realized this?’
‘Y’know, Lori,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘sometimes things take a while to figure out.’
She nodded, feeling immensely flattered that Luca felt free to reveal his true feelings to her. They barely knew each other, and it wasn’t like she was famous or anything. Obviously he liked her, and that made her feel as if she belonged. This trip was turning out to be better than she’d expected.
‘I guess being away from everything is the perfect time to think things through,’ she offered.
Luca ran his hand through his mop of thick blond hair. ‘Right,’ he agreed. ‘An’ that?
??s exactly what I’m doing.’
‘Then I hope for your sake that you reach the right conclusion.’
‘Oh, I will,’ he said, nodding to himself. ‘And you, Lori,’ he added, ‘what’s up with you and Cliff Baxter?’
‘Uh . . . well,’ she answered hesitantly. ‘We’ve been together a year.’
‘Where’s it going? Or should I ask – where do you want it to go?’
‘I don’t know, I’m not sure,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s complicated.’
‘Marriage? Children?’ Luca persisted.
‘Cliff’s not the marrying kind,’ she said.
‘That doesn’t mean you can’t change his mind.’ Luca paused for a moment, ‘Is it something you want?’
Before she could answer, Hammond came lumbering up to them, his T-shirt drenched in sweat, his face pink from the heat, brown hair plastered to his forehead.
Lori was relieved to be off the hook; their conversation was getting a little too personal for her liking.
‘Goddamm it!’ Hammond complained, swatting at a flying bug. ‘I need to throw myself in the ocean. Isn’t it time we turned back?’
* * *
Jeromy was bored. He hadn’t come on this voyage to sit by himself in solitary splendour while his boyfriend ran off to an island with most of the other guests.
Jeromy did not sunbathe. His skin and the sun did not mix, so instead of becoming a sun-burnished god like Luca, he usually ended up resembling a dried-up old lobster. Not an attractive look, and one he planned to avoid.
Mercedes, the feisty stewardess, was attentive – offering him drinks and snacks whenever he felt like it. The problem was that food and drink did not alleviate boredom.
Mercedes. What kind of a name was that anyway? A Mexican girl named after a German car. How ridiculous. It was exactly the sort of moronic name movie stars bestowed on their offspring.
Thinking of movie stars, Jeromy wondered where Cliff Baxter had vanished to. Earlier they’d enjoyed a most cordial chat, surely there was more to come? Perhaps Cliff had a house in L.A. that needed redecorating. Or a New York penthouse ready for renovation. Or maybe he could use his persuasive powers to talk Cliff into purchasing a London townhouse.
Jeromy Milton-Gold, designer to the stars. It had a nice ring to it.
Mercedes appeared again. There was something about the girl that was annoying. Perhaps she wasn’t subservient enough for his liking. Or perhaps she was just plain cheap. He wondered if she screwed the passengers on the side. He wouldn’t put it past her – she had that dirty girl air about her. Maybe she’d even had a go at the movie star while his redheaded girlfriend was cavorting somewhere on the island with Luca.
‘Where is Mr Baxter?’ Jeromy enquired, peering down his long nose at her.
‘Ah, you mean Señor Cliff,’ Mercedes said, purposely irritating him.
‘No, I mean Mr Baxter,’ Jeromy said sternly, putting her in her place. ‘You should never call guests by their first names, it’s extremely rude.’
Mercedes stifled a strong urge to tell him to piss off. Her time would come, and when it did she planned to clean this one out, and maybe shove a plunger up his bony ass for good measure. Only this particular hijo de puta would probably enjoy it.
‘Señor Cliff asked me to use his first name,’ she said innocently.
‘I don’t care what he asked you,’ Jeromy admonished. ‘It is simply not done. You are in service here. Learn, dear – it is to your advantage.’
Come mierda, Mercedes thought as she smiled sweetly at Jeromy, deciding that his expensive watch might make a nice birthday present for her next conquest.
* * *
Being on the island was making Taye randier than ever. Getting Ashley out of London and away from it all had worked wonders. She wasn’t all Miss Design Queen and mummy to the twins, she was more like the girl he’d fallen in love with, the free spirit who got off on sexual adventures and was never adverse to giving a blow-job or two. Taye had to admit that getting oral sex from his wife was his favourite activity. He relished the thought of shoving Mammoth into Ashley’s delicate mouth, and holding her head in place while she sucked the life out of him. Before marriage it had been a daily occurrence. After marriage it had become a special treat. And for the last few months it hadn’t happened at all, until last night, when Ashley had excelled at doing what she did better than any other girl he’d been with.
Now he wanted more, and the island seemed like the perfect set-up for a quick bit of sex. Ashley looked so great in her cover-up T-shirt, her big tits sticking out, long legs on parade. Last night he’d made love to her for as long as she could take it, then he’d gone down on her and she’d moaned her appreciation. Frankly he couldn’t keep his hands off his wife.
‘Hey, toots,’ he whispered, grabbing her hand. ‘Follow me. Just saw somethin’ you wouldn’t wanna miss.’
‘What?’ Ashley said, marvelling at a pair of giant turtles crawling along in front of them; it was quite a sight.
‘Back here,’ Taye said, steering her away from the others – pulling her towards a cluster of tall swaying palm trees.
‘What?’ Ashley repeated, slightly irritated.
Taye didn’t give her time to think. He went for her nipples, playing with them in a way that never failed to turn her on.
‘Taye!’ she objected. ‘Not here.’
‘Why not?’ he said, squeezing and twirling.
‘’Cause the others might see.’ Two seconds and then – ‘Oh . . . my . . . God!’
He had her. Quick as a flash he whipped out Mammoth, still keeping up the tit action.
‘Go for it, baby,’ he encouraged, pushing her to her knees.
‘Taye . . .’ she began.
He stifled her objections with Mammoth, and within two delicious minutes he’d achieved a memorable orgasm, leaving Ashley wanting more. Which was fine with him, because he’d be happy to finish the job of satisfying her later.
As far as Taye was concerned, this was turning out to be the perfect trip.
* * *
After skimming through two scripts – both of them disappointing – Cliff realized that he did indeed miss Lori. It was his loss not to have gone on the island trip. Every day shouldn’t be about work, and reading scripts was actually work. Before leaving L.A. he’d had his agent, his manager and Enid all on his case about all the scripts he should read.
‘We need to make decisions,’ his manager had informed him.
‘I think you should seriously consider the spy movie,’ his agent had said.
‘You’ll be bored with Lori before you know it,’ Enid had lectured. ‘See if you can make a dent in those scripts you’ve got piling up. I’ve packed them all for you.’
Wasn’t he supposed to be on vacation with his girlfriend? Why not relax and enjoy it? To hell with work.
Cliff decided that for the next few days he was going to lie back and let himself go with the flow.
* * *
‘What are we going to do?’ Sierra asked Flynn.
Flynn loved the fact that she was referring to them as ‘we’. He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what your situation is with Ham. You’ve been married a long time.’ He paused for a moment, then gazed at her intently. ‘Are you happy?’
‘So!’ she exclaimed, refusing to meet his eyes. ‘Just like that, we’ve gone from not talking for years to am I happy. I’m confused, that’s what I am.’
‘You’re not answering my question.’
‘Are you happy, Flynn?’ she said pointedly, finally looking at him. ‘I guess you must be. Your girlfriend seems smart enough and pretty.’
‘Xuan is not my girlfriend,’ he muttered.
‘You’re sharing a cabin,’ she was quick to remind him.
‘It’s a long story,’ he said, ridiculously pleased that she sounded jealous.
Sierra was now staring at him, unsure of what to say. Should she admit that she was miserable? Should she tell him the truth?
Oh God
, she felt so vulnerable. Too much time had passed, they were both grown ups now. Could she trust Flynn? What if the whole fake photos thing was merely a fantasy, a convenient story he’d made up to explain the way he’d treated her?
Was Hammond responsible? At first she’d had no doubts, but why would he do such a thing? How could he? She realized that she would have to confront him. It was the only way to get to the real truth.
‘I’m kind of tired,’ she said at last. ‘I need to spend some time alone thinking things through.’
‘I understand,’ Flynn said, realizing that pushing her was not a good idea. ‘It’s a lot to take in. For both of us.’
‘Yes, it is,’ she answered quietly.
And where do we go from here? he felt like asking. Just friends, lovers no more? What’s the deal, Sierra? Is there a future for us?
Was he experiencing an urge to go back in time, rekindle the feelings they’d once had for each other?
Did he still want her?
His heart said yes.
His head said no.
Whether the photos were fake or not, still didn’t explain the fact that she’d been pregnant with Ham’s baby when she and Ham were involved in a car accident. She’d told him that they were merely platonic friends, so how come the pregnancy? Obviously she had no idea he knew.
Jesus Christ! Why was this happening? Why was Sierra back in his life? Just when he’d gotten together with Mai in Paris and thought that maybe he was finally over Sierra, this had to happen.
Too fucking bad. He could deal with it.
He had no choice.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Muttering under his breath, Manuel led the rich ones back to the beach and the tenders that awaited them. He considered his current group of affluent tourists a bunch of lowlife animals, although animals would never behave in such a disrespectful and lustful way.
Did the tall black man think that nobody noticed when he pulled the large-breasted blonde behind the palm trees and made her do something to him that only putas indulged in?
And the big Russian man having sex with the dark girl under the waterfall. Disgraceful. Couldn’t they wait until they were home and it was nighttime, like normal people?