Refracted Crystal: Diamonds and Desire (13 page)

Kris was not really listening, but instead glancing towards the door. If she could just get to it, she would be able to attract attention: in her mind, she had already assessed the little man in front of her and she knew he would not stop her if there was any hint of real trouble. He was a coward—she could see that immediately.

Francis, however, was frowning as he looked at her. “Are you listening?” he asked tetchily. When she refused to reply, he reached out with one hand, still holding the glass in the other, and gripped her cheek, pulling her face towards him.

“I said, are you listening!” His own cheeks were starting to flush with anger.

“Fuck you,” Kris sneered, and with a feeling of utter contempt for him spat in his face. This stunned him enough for his fingers to twitch apart and she turned and ran towards the door...

...only to be caught by the other man. He was considerably stronger than Francis, and lifted her easily off her feet. As his arms had formed a prison over hers, she lashed out and kicked with her legs, trying to hurt him as Francis looked on and laughed.

“As I said, naughty naughty. A bit of spirit’s nice to break, but too much...” As he came nearer, she glared at him.

“Let me go!” she shouted. “Let me fucking go! I’ll call the police. When Daniel finds out about this—”

“He’ll do nothing. He wouldn’t dare.” Francis’s face was insufferable to look on, and Kris lashed out a couple of times but he remained out of reach of her legs. In any case, she was still trying to break free from Matthew’s grip.

“Let me tell you a few secrets about the world—and a few secrets about your husband, too.” Francis’s eyes were fixed upon her now. “People like me, we get what we want, when we want it. You, you’re one of the little people. Your opinion doesn’t count for shit, do you understand?”

Kris refused to indulge him. Her heart was beating more rapidly than ever before now, a mixture of fear and anger, but she struggled a little less, hoping that the other man would loosen his grip and allow her to escape.

“Daniel, Daniel Stone... I used to fucking hero-worship him, you know. When I was at college, Pop thought he was the best thing ever, treated him more like a son than he did me.” For a second, a trace of bitterness crossed Francis’s eyes and Kris understood entirely what this was about. “Well, I soon set out to show both of them: anything Daniel Stone could do, I could do better.”

Kris’s nostrils flared slightly at this. You’re nothing, she wanted to scream at him, but still she bided her time.

“I could never get it, how women seemed to want him, even though he treated them like shit. I mean, your husband is no fucking oil painting now, is he? Even you’ve got to admit that. But then I realised the truth. It was precisely because he
did
treat them like shit that he could get all the cunt he wanted. When I understood that, there was no looking back for me.”

“And you think Daniel treats everyone like shit, do you?” Kris’s words were measured, her anger held in check.

“Well, doesn’t he? I’ve heard stories, how he likes to push beautiful women around, how they let him do anything he wants. Well, you’re not exactly the youngest woman any more, and I’ve had... well, frankly, I’ve had more beautiful ones than you, but you should realise that I’m going to show you that how Daniel treats you is nothing compared to what I can do.”

As he leaned closer, Kris felt Matthew’s grip on her loosen slightly as he took a step backwards to allow his friend nearer. Kris clenched her mouth shut and waited.

“What’s more, when we fucking use you, you little bitch, you’ll like it, because that’s what you submissive types like, isn’t it. You like to be fucked hard.”

Now was her chance. With a fluid motion, Kris tugged her arm free and lifted it up, raking her nails down the side of Francis’s head, viciously so that she drew blood. Not wasting her breath, as Francis leaped back with a howl she twisted her whole body, slipping sideways out of Matthew’s grasp and running towards the door.

She was only a foot or two away when Matthew, recovering, grabbed hold of her hair. Until that moment she had been silent, concentrating on making her escape, but now she hissed in pain and struggled to break free as Francis came up and took hold of her arm, spinning her around.

“You fucking bitch!” he hissed in her face. “You’re going to pay for that.”

Matthew had taken hold of her from behind once more, lifting her up and carrying her back into the room. Now she did not hold on any more, but screamed at the top of her lungs, trying to attract attention—any attention, and lashing out with her feet and arms when she could.

As she was dropped onto the sofa, she kicked up with one bare foot and, more by luck than design, managed to connect with Francis’s crotch. He doubled up in pain and she began to rage with feet and fists, fighting with all her strength.

When Matthew leaned across, however, and punched her hard in the stomach, not only did she lose her breath but she was also immediately filled with terror. No! Not that, not there! she silently screamed. Don’t hurt me there!

Instinctively, her body froze for a moment and Matthew grabbed her legs, holding them still, as Francis, having flung his jacket from his shoulders, pushed her back onto the sofa and straddled her chest, looking down at her with fury etched into his features.

“Now that,” he told her, glaring at her, “wasn’t very clever. You’re going to have to pay for that.”

He cuffed her once, across the cheek, hard enough to make her head snap to one side and a bruise appear on her cheek. She attempted to kick again, but her legs were held down in a relentless grip now.

Because he could, Francis slapped her again from the other side, making her head fly in a different direction and causing a stabbing pain to shoot through her skull. Fear was taking over her now, and she found herself unable or unwilling to struggle as vehemently as before. Terrified, her thoughts were incoherent and she simply wished that Daniel or someone else—anyone—would come and help her now.

Smirking humourlessly, his eyes shining hatefully as he looked down at her, a droplet of blood already forming a scab on the right side of his face where she had scratched him, Francis leaned forward and took hold of her dress in his hands. Shuffling down so that he still pinned her arms by her side, but with her chest free now, he began to tear at the fabric. It took him several goes, but at last he was able to rip open the front of her dress, her breasts squashed down beneath his thighs and her bra.

“That’s more like it,” he whispered. His face was becoming redder and redder, and she could see the bulge in his trousers beginning to grow as a frenzied look entered his eyes. “Mind you, I don’t get what Stone fucking sees in you.” He was muttering to himself now, lost in a world of private revenge. “Fat if you ask me.”

“That’s what I thought,” Matthew interjected, overhearing him mutter to himself. “Not the type of prize that you’d imagine someone like Stone crowing about.”

Francis laughed at this, snapped out of his own universe for a moment. “Yeah,” he sneered. “But you know what they say. Fat bitches always try harder. I bet this one’s a real kinky fucking cunt. Let’s see what she’s willing to do, eh?”

As he pushed one hand roughly into her bra, forcing it down across her nipple so that he could pinch and pull at her flesh cruelly, Kris struggled once more, her breath coming thick and fast. When he bent forward, mouth open, teeth lined up to bite her, the sound of a key being turned in the door suddenly interrupted them all.

“You did lock it from the inside, didn’t you?” Francis whispered, pausing.

“Of course I did!” Matthew hissed back. “Who do you think it is? Room service?”

Francis shrugged. For a moment, his attention was directed towards his companion and Kris took this as an opportunity.

“Help me!” she howled as loudly as she could. “Please! Somebody help me!”

In shock, Francis looked back at her, as though surprised that she would consider doing anything like that. In the next instant he had slapped her again across the face, hitting her so hard that her cheek turned scarlet and livid.

“Kris!” All of them heard the muffled sound of Daniel’s voice on the other side of the door. “Are you alright?”

Ignoring the threat of violence, Kris screamed as loudly as her lungs would let her. “Daniel! Please! Help me!”

Furious, Francis placed a hand across her mouth, trying to force her into silence. Confused, Matthew had let go of her legs and begun to make his way to the door, allowing her to kick and thrash out as much as she could. Thrown off balance, Francis’s hand slipped slightly and she bit down as hard as she could, her own teeth slicing through flesh and hitting bone so that he began to howl.

Still he did not let her go, however, but as his hand came away so Kris began to scream as loudly as she could. Matthew was by the door now, checking the locks, when to his own horror and consternation the door began to reverberate, as though a massive weight was being thrown against it on the other side.

This made Francis stand up and Kris scrabbled away from him, almost falling off the sofa, her legs flailing against its side as she grabbed hold of the table and tried to pull herself up. Her assailant was staring towards the door which was making regular crashing noises, the sound of the frame beginning to splinter.

By the time she pulled herself to her knees she saw the door finally burst open and Daniel half-entered, half-fell into the room, staring grimly as he picked himself up. Francis remained on the far side of the sofa, dithering, but before Daniel could recover himself completely Matthew went for him, taking a swipe with his fist that careered off his back, a glancing blow that did not fully make contact with him.

Standing up straight, the scars on his face pale and etched against his skin which was beginning to flush with red anger, Daniel caught the next punch easily and returned the blow to Matthew’s face, forcing the shorter, younger man to stagger sideways. Without waiting to follow through, however, Daniel’s eyes immediately began to hunt around the room, widening as they caught sight of Kris, took in the bruises across her cheek, the torn fabric of her dress as she clutched it across her breast, her ruffled hair and smeared makeup.

His mouth snarled, but he said nothing. Instead, his attention was fully on Francis now, who staggered backwards, stumbling against the table and trying to put as much distance between himself and Daniel.

“Wait, you don’t understand,” Francis began to blather. “It’s okay, you know how it is, Daniel. You know the rule with property—all for one and one for all.”

“You bastard!” Daniel hissed and then launched forward. Coming to the sofa, he leaped over it easily, landing heavily on the other side and staggering slightly. At this, Francis began to run but Kris flailed out with a hand, catching hold of his trousers and holding to them tightly, being dragged sideways in the process.

When Daniel had recovered himself, he caught hold of Francis and spun him round with his left hand, using his right fist to punch him fully in the face. The blow was enormous, and Francis’s head snapped back as blood burst from his nose. That was not enough for Daniel, who still held on to his prey while he punched him once, then twice in the abdomen, causing the younger man to double up in pain.

In the meantime, however, Matthew had recovered. As Francis feebly attempted to ward off Daniel’s blows, his associate ran around behind the older man and grabbed him. Stronger than Francis, Matthew managed to pin Daniel’s arms by his side for a moment so that the sandy-haired youth could pull free. He launched a kick at Daniel’s crotch, catching him mid thigh, but as Daniel let out a ferocious roar of anger he ducked away.

Seeing Matthew holding onto Daniel with grim determination, Kris pulled herself upright, her fingers crawling across the table. As they did so, they felt something cool and hard and, when she managed to pull herself up at last, she swung her fist at the back of the other man’s head. The paperweight connected with his skull, making a dull, crunching noise, and Matthew screamed, immediately letting go of Daniel and staggering away, clutching at his own head.

Francis had already scrambled for the door and was running through it. Daniel, seeing the other man half bent over, aimed a blow with his foot at Matthew’s back, sending him sprawling. His own attention, however, was already diverted towards Kris, and as he turned to hold her, his hazel eyes searching her face, the twin, asymmetrical pupils running back and forth quickly as he read what damage had been done, Matthew half dragged himself up and ran towards the door after his companion in crime.

At last they were gone. Daniel pulled her close to his chest, his arms descending across her back, holding her so tightly that he actually squeezed the air out of her. She clung to him, however, only now in her relief able to allow the tears of anger, frustration and fear to fall like crystal from her eyes.

“We’ve to get you to a hospital,” Daniel said, bringing through a coffee and placing it before her on the table. Still shaking, a nervous after reaction rather than true fear, Kris nodded. She pulled the dressing gown he had fetched for her across her shoulders and gripped it tightly at the front. She still had not changed out of her torn dress, but now simply wished to cover herself while her body came to grips with the shocks it had endured.