Heller's Girlfriend (11 page)

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Authors: JD Nixon

Tags: #romance, #adventure, #mystery, #relationships, #chick lit

BOOK: Heller's Girlfriend
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“You should have killed the
prick,” she said, almost with respect. She glanced at me in the
rear view mirror, before changing lanes without indicating and
cutting off another motorist. She drove on, seemingly oblivious to
the abuse that driver hurled at us.

“I wanted to,” I admitted.

“How’s the jaw?”

“Painful. Bruised. Used a trowel
to apply the concealer this morning.”

“Thought so.” She almost
sideswiped a cyclist and a parked car as she swerved dangerously to
avoid a turning car in front. “I have to give it to you. You have a
pair of balls, all right.”

“Thanks. I guess,” I said
without any enthusiasm, clutching the headrest of Patricia’s seat
with both hands in fear.

She barked out what I presumed
was meant to be a laugh. “Not such a compliment really, is it, when
you think about it?”

“Not really. I don’t want to be
more like a man. Especially that rude jerk-off.” I suddenly
remembered who I was with. “Oh sorry, Patricia. No offence.”

She laughed timidly. “No offence
to me, Tilly. I happen to agree with you.”

For once, Warburton was on time.
I didn’t want to admit to myself, but I was crossing my fingers and
toes that Bick would reappear and I could spend some more time
talking to him. But my hopes were crushed as soon as I saw the
walking mountain that preceded Warburton into the room. Select
Security had sent a different man along for protection this time. I
hid my disappointment and checked out the new guy. He was an ugly
brute with a mean face who glared at me with open hostility when he
clocked my
Heller’s
uniform. I could tell it was going to be
a long, chat-free session.

Warburton was on his best
behaviour that day and even held the door to the negotiation room
open for the two ladies to enter. I don’t know who he thought he
was impressing, because it wasn’t any of us. I eyeballed him right
up until the door closed, and he sneered at me in return the whole
time. I guess I wouldn’t be getting an invitation to his divorce
party.

There was complete silence in
the waiting room for the next two hours, except for the wheezy
breathing of the Select brute. He stared at me the whole time in an
unfriendly manner, which is quite a disconcerting experience, let
me tell you for free. I did my best to ignore him and stared at the
wall in front of me, avoiding all eye contact. He took a phone call
and grunted his way in monosyllables through the conversation
before hanging up. It was the most exciting thing that happened the
whole time we sat there together.

Until he spoke to me.

“Can’t believe Warburton needs
security to keep a pussy like you away from him,” he scorned, his
voice gravelly and rough.

I stared at him impassively. “I
have real bad breath.”

He grunted in contempt. “Got a
smart mouth on you too, I can see. Hate that in a bitch. Surprised
the Man would hire a smartarse pussy. Heard he had tough balls.
Guess not if he hires pussies like you.” I presumed ‘the Man’ was
Heller, and that ‘tough balls’ were a desirable feature for a man
to have. Sounded painful to me.

“You seem obsessed by pussies.
What’s up? Not getting enough?” I just couldn’t help myself. He was
asking for it.

“Fuck off, bitch.”

“Want me to take my pussy with
me? Or do you want to think about it for a bit longer?”

“Smart-mouthed piece of pussy,”
he spat out. He obviously didn’t possess a huge vocabulary.

“There you go again! Like I
said, you’re totally obsessed. You know you can pay women to show
you theirs, if you’re that desperate.”

“Fuck off, bitch.”

“You already said that. Run out
of small talk so soon? And I was really starting to enjoy our
conversation too.” I shook my head in mock-sorrow. He crossed his
arms and glared at me aggressively, and I knew that I’d just made
another friend for life with my winning personality. But it did the
trick. He shut up and I was grateful for small mercies. For a
little while anyway.

“Been doing much driving
lately?” he insinuated slyly. My hackles rose immediately.

“You know something about that?”
I demanded, dangerously quiet.

It had been staff from Select
Security who had shot Niq and me off the road in our car where we
smashed head-on into a concrete wall. We were both lucky to be
alive after that accident and had spent months in hospital
recovering. The operations I’d needed for internal bleeding had
stuffed up my ovaries so now there was no chance of me ever getting
pregnant. Needless to say, I had no sense of humour about that
incident at all.

He just laughed and gave me a
smirk that stayed on his face for the rest of our time together. I
wanted to kill him, choke the life out of him, right there and
then. I breathed in and out deeply, thinking about the good things
in my life, until the murderous impulses dissipated. Just in time
for the warring parties to exit the mediation room. Everyone seemed
much calmer today and the session hadn’t lasted as long as previous
days, but I could tell from their faces that they still hadn’t
reached a settlement.

“Same time tomorrow,” Corella
snapped to Gerry and the three of us stalked out of the building to
her car.

“No luck?” I asked
sympathetically, doing up my seatbelt, checking twice to make sure
it was secure.

“They’re playing hardball. But
that’s totally expected. We’re just going to have to play harder
than them. Warburton doesn’t have the patience to continue much
longer,” said Corella confidently.

Patricia sat quietly in front,
staring straight ahead, not contributing to the conversation. I was
starting to worry about her mental state. The whole divorce
settlement was proving a terrible strain on her – one with which
she didn’t seem to have the ability to cope.

I walked her to her room and saw
her safely deposited. She didn’t want me to stay at all. I
questioned the merits of that, concerned for her, but she insisted
and she was the client, after all. I complied with her directive
and left her to her own devices for the evening. I rang Heller and
he came to pick me up.

We stopped at a juice bar on the
way home for a fruit smoothie. I needed a sugar hit, and it was the
closest thing to a chocolate binge that Heller would let me have.
We sat in a booth close together, slurping our smoothies. I told
him about the charming Select man I’d spent the day with and his
scintillating conversation, especially his comments about Heller
hiring a woman.

“I’m ruining your reputation in
the sector as a hardarse with tough balls,” I said
remorsefully.

He laughed and slid his arm
around my shoulders, pulling me close to kiss me on the forehead.
“At the rate you beat up men, I would think that you’re enhancing
my reputation, my sweet.”

I laughed up at him and it was
then that I noticed Will standing at our booth, looking at us.
Shit!
Will had this uncanny ability to spring Heller and me
in an affectionate moment every time he saw us together in public.
He didn’t look very pleased.

“Hello Tilly. Heller,” he said,
grim-faced as he took in Heller’s arm still around my
shoulders.

“Hi Will,” I replied lightly.
Heller nodded at Will, but didn’t release his arm. In fact he
tightened it around my shoulders. I wasn’t going to start a blather
of explanations that would just make everything look worse than the
innocent scene it really was. “Want to join us?”

“I’m on my way home. Just
grabbing some milk. You free tonight?”

I nodded. “Sure, I’m not doing
anything.”

Heller shook his head. “Sorry
Matilda, but I need to go over some things with you tonight.”

“Really, Heller? It can’t
wait?”

“No.”

I didn’t bother to hide my
disappointment. “What about this weekend, Will? I’ll be free
then.”

It was his turn to look
disappointed. “I can’t, Tilly. The science head has asked me to
fill in for her at a teaching conference this weekend. Her
husband’s sick and she can’t go and there’s no refund, so she’s
asked me to go instead. It’s all weekend. Sorry, babe.”

“Me too,” I pouted. “One day
next week then?”

“Definitely.” And he ignored
Heller and leaned in to kiss me on the mouth. I kissed him back
eagerly, wishing that I could be with him tonight. We really didn’t
get to spend enough time together.

“I’m looking forward to it
already.”

“Me too. See you then,
gorgeous.” He walked off and I turned to Heller.

“What’s so important that I
can’t see Will tonight?”

“Nothing,” he said, without any
hint of guilt. “I just don’t want you out at night when you have to
work the next day.”


Heller!
You’re
such
a bastard sometimes!”

I shook off his arm angrily and
stood up, throwing my empty cup in the bin with passion. Then I
stalked out of the juice bar back to his vehicle, not waiting for
him. He caught up to me in no time. I refused to look at him.

“Don’t be angry with me,
Matilda. It’s for your own good. You need to be alert on this job,
not half-asleep because you stayed up all night with your
boyfriend.”

“Piss off, Heller! It’s all
right for you to screw all night, but I’m not allowed to? Is that
what you’re telling me? Nice lot of double standards you have going
there, isn’t it?” I hadn’t realised that I’d raised my voice until
I saw the curious stares from people around us. I blushed and
continued stalking towards the car.

He pulled up alongside me again
and grabbed my arm firmly in his hand, bringing me to a halt and
turning me around to look at him. I refused to though, keeping my
head lowered. He sighed mightily and cupped his hand under my chin,
forcing my head upwards. I didn’t give up without a fight though
and it took him a bit of effort to force me to make eye contact
with him. Then I scrunched my eyes closed so that I didn’t have to
look at him. I’m very mature like that. Next thing I knew, his lips
were pressing on mine in a very sensuous and intimate way, his
tongue making its presence known. That made my eyes fly open
immediately and I pushed against him furiously. He smiled at me in
triumph and I wanted to slap his face hard, but I knew better than
to raise my hand to Heller.

“I hate you!” I spat out
angrily.

He pulled a sad face. “You hurt
my feelings when you say that, Matilda.”

“Good! I’d rather hurt
you
right now, but your feelings will have to do
instead.”

“Such an infuriated young
woman,” he tutted disapprovingly. “I’m not sure I should employ
such a violent and angry person. You might ruin my reputation for
hiring pussies.”

Despite myself, my lips started
twitching. “Stop it,” I demanded crossly. “I’m trying to be angry
with you.”

“Imagine if anyone found out
that Heller employed someone,” and he lowered his voice to a
confidential whisper, and looked around to make sure no one could
overhear, “who wanted to
hurt
other people. Just imagine the
scandal.”

I punched him on the arm
lightly, and laughed unwillingly.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked.

“No.”

“What about if I organise a
treat for you tonight to make it up to you?”

“If by that you mean a booty
call from you, then forget it. I’m not interested.”

“I’ll be making a booty call
tonight, but not to you, my sweet. I have a date with the
delectable Vanessa. And I’m really looking forward to it.”

I stopped and stared at him,
furious again. “What the hell? I can’t see Will, but you’re off to
shag your little girlfriend all night? You’re such a
hypocrite.”

“It’s different for me,
Matilda.”

“How?” I shouted at him.

“I don’t have a man who is
trying to hurt me every day to contend with at the moment. You do.
He’s already injured you. I need you to be alert. It seems hard,
but it’s for the best. For you. Now I promise you’ll enjoy what I
arrange for you tonight.”

I threw myself into his
Mercedes, slamming the door hard enough to make the whole vehicle
shake, and sat with a stony face, staring straight ahead of me. He
sat in the driver’s seat and sighed.

“You’re not jealous because I’m
seeing Vanessa again tonight, are you?”

I turned to him in disbelief.
“No, Heller, I’m not
jealous
! I’m pissed off at you. Can’t
you tell the difference?”

He shook his head as if not
convinced, and we drove home in silence.

 

Chapter 8

 

I stalked off as soon as we
parked in the Warehouse and childishly stomped up every step to my
flat. I took a long, hot shower and was about to start making
dinner when there was a firm but unfamiliar knock on my door. For
obvious reasons, I didn’t receive random people coming to my door,
so I opened it curiously.

There was a man standing there,
same height as me, in his mid-thirties, flinty faced. He had a wiry
but very muscular build, close shaven dark hair, beautifully shaped
but grim mouth, and incredible hypnotic eyes of light gray with a
pronounced black ring around each iris. I recognised him as a man
I’d worked with briefly on a job involving an IT billionaire.

He was reasonably good-looking
in a rugged way, dressed casually in blue track pants and a black
muscle shirt, with tattoos covering his well-muscled upper arms and
shoulders. One of them was of the
Heller’s
logo – a tattoo
that the security men were only allowed to have done after a year’s
loyal service. That wasn’t Heller’s rule; it was something the
security men had imposed on themselves. I had inadvertently started
the tradition by having the logo discreetly tattooed on my inner
left ankle, and after that everyone had wanted one.

The man at my door looked me up
and down and didn’t appear too impressed with the results.

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