Page 38 of Kissing Games
There was a knock at the door and her breath quickened. He was here. They were going out. Together. At night. To drink alcohol. A nervous laugh burst out. She took a long, slow breath in, counted to ten, put her jacket over her shoulders and opened the door.
‘Valentina,’ oozed Vlad, his eyes flicking up and down her body like a lizard’s tongue. Bile rose into her throat. ‘You’re looking extremely…’ His mouth opened slowly in an approximation of a smile, his thin lips stretching over his yellow teeth ‘…succulent this evening.’
She zipped up her jacket and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Dark memories twisted inside her, crawling upwards. ‘Can I help you?’
Vlad looked over her shoulder into her room. ‘Why don’t we go inside and discuss this in more comfort.’
She pulled the door half closed, looking at him through the gap. ‘I’m about to leave. What do you want?’
Vlad inclined his head to the side and gave a little huff, as if laughing at his own joke. ‘I wanted to discuss the earth meal I am planning with Kirsten. I’d like you to play a bigger part.’
She gritted her teeth. Her co-star, Kirsten, was a nightmare of a narcissist. She was organising a meal for the most important people of the shoot, the menu based on whatever fad diet she was currently championing. Valentina wished she had a way to get out of it without offending Brad.
Vlad’s face filled the gap between the door and frame. ‘The spirits tell me your primaeval essence is needed.’
‘Really? According to you, the “spirits” said I spent my past lives as slaves and prostitutes.’
Vlad’s eyes gleamed and he swallowed. ‘Indeed. We need this sensual energy to ground the spiritual aspects of the meal. Your yang to our yin.’
Vlad suddenly disappeared from view.
She pulled the door open to see Charlie standing behind Vlad, pulling his arm up behind his back.
‘Hey, Valentina,’ Charlie said. ‘I found this outside your door. Is it bothering you?’
‘He was just leaving,’ she replied, her voice wobbling.
Charlie’s face hardened and he spun Vlad around. He whispered something in his ear, then released his arm.
‘Off you fuck,’ he said in a voice laced with steel.
Vlad turned to look back at her, but she ducked inside the room and sat on the end of the bed, breathing heavily.
A few seconds later, Charlie poked his head around the door. ‘You okay?’
She started shaking.
He rushed in and knelt in front of her, holding her hands. ‘Hey, hey, it’s okay, love, he’s gone,’ he said softly, kneading her palms with the pads of his thumbs.
‘Malparido, hijo de puta, gonorrea, huevón!’ she hissed, her body shuddering.
Charlie bracketed her legs with his forearms, holding her tightly. ‘You can’t call him huevón, sweetheart. You’re only allowed to call one man a dickhead, and that’s me.’
She let out a short laugh. ‘I hate him. I want to kill him.’
He squeezed her hands. ‘That’s my job. You can’t have all the fun.’
She saw the concern in his eyes. She was safe with him. She let her body relax.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
She shook her head as she welled up.
He frowned. ‘Has he ever…?’
She shook her head more violently and tears ran down her cheeks.
‘Do you want him to die slowly and painfully or very slowly and extremely painfully?’
