Refracted Crystal: Diamonds and Desire Page 10

  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 war
d 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.

  Chapter Eleven

  “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.

  Daniel placed his arms around her, comforting her as her head sank into the warmth of his chest. Before her, steam curled and danced from the dark surface of the coffee cup, and grimly she noticed a smear of blood—whether her own or Francis’s, she could not tell—on the shining surface of the table.

  Hospital, yes. She had to get there. Her face stung but that was trivial. She could still feel the imprint of a fist on her abdomen, and when she thought of the damage he might have done her anxieties rose into her mouth, leaving a bitter taste as they mixed with her anger. Yes, she would have to go to hospital, but there was something else that she needed to attend to also.

  “We have to call the police,” she said quietly.

  To her surprise, Daniel said nothing and she felt the muscles in his arms tense ever so slightly. Lifting her hands, she placed them gently against his chest, the diamond of her engagement ring and the gold of her wedding band shining in the mid-day light. She pushed back, softly but firmly, against him so that his arms opened and let her free.

  Looking up into his face, she saw a slight tic appear in his cheek, causing the scar to fluctuate like a creature on his skin. “We have to call the police,” she repeated.

  He nodded, a terse gesture. “Yes, of course,” he replied at last.

  She frowned at him and his strange eyes flickered away from her. What was this? She had seen many things cross Daniel Stone’s face, but never fear, not like this. Never weakness.

  Her heart beat a little more quickly, a sense of rising anger blooming beneath her skin. Trying to control herself, her voice became steely.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He hesitated. “Nothing. You’re right. But... perhaps I should try to speak to Maximilian first.”

  “Oh, because he’s been so helpful in dealing with you so far. Yeah, that will help.” She realised her sarcasm was unfair, but she couldn’t help herself: in the light of the violence she had suffered Daniel’s failure to stand with her now opened a fresh wound.

  His eyes flickered back to hers then moved away again. “He wasn’t there. I found out from one of his staff that he had no intention of him seeing me. As soon as I realised Francis had lied to me...” His voice trailed away as he realised what could have been.

  Kris, however, was relentless. Her hand still rested on his chest, but her muscles had frozen so that she seemed to become a statue. “Daniel,” she said, her voice as rigid as her body, “they were going to rape me.”

  He clenched his jaw at this, his teeth grinding together. Anger flared across his eyes and his nostrils flared. “I’ll kill him,” he muttered.

  “No, no you won’t. We’ll go to the police, report it as a crime. He won’t get away with this.”

  Now Daniel’s face returned to hers, his eyes full of pain once more. “Won’t he?” he asked, then laughed, hollowly.

  At this, she let her hand fall from his chest and pulled herself away, resisting his attempts to hold his arms in place around her. Though she only sat a few inches further away from him now it felt as though a gulf had opened up between them.

  “Before, after Victor’s, I let you talk me out of doing anything.” She shrugged, but she could feel her skin prickling beneath her ripped dress and the gown she wore over it. “I didn’t actually know what was going on, but I think you had a good idea, and yet you did nothing.”

  His jaw moved back and forth, teeth grinding as she spoke, but he remained silent.

  “You did nothing, Daniel. That could have been me—it nearly was me. A man like Francis Roth can’t be allowed to get away with that.”

  Now Daniel’s head dipped down and he refused to accept her gaze. Her own anger was becoming clearer now: part of her was still furious with him, but she was more certain where her own real fury lay. Nonetheless, she felt a little something inside her wither when she realised that this man, her husband, almost her idol, had a weakness which should not have been allowed to endure.

  “It may be a cliché, but bad men can do good things when good men do nothing.”

  He lifted his head back up, not looking at her but gazing off with eyes filled with pain. He shook his head. “If only it were that simple,” he said. “You don’t understand.”

  She snarled at this, for a second directing her anger at him, pure and clean. “Don’t give me that! I understand precisely what he was going to do, him and that piece of filth he called his business associate.”

  Daniel took a deep breath. “No, not that,” he tried to explain. “In a court case, they’ll murder you... they’ll murder us...”

  “Is this what this is about? Your fucking reputation? Fuck you, Daniel! Your wife can be raped, but all you care about is how you’ll appear in the eyes of a scumbag like Francis Roth.”

  His own eyes flashed with anger as he glared at her, but he restrained himself. “That’s not what I mean. Maximilian Roth can hire the best lawyers there are—a whole army of them, long after I’ve been drained dry. And they’ll scour every aspect of your life, every detail—they won’t be content for you to lose any claim you bring against Francis. They’ll destroy everything you own, everything you want, everything you care about.”

  At this, her hands dropped unconsciously to her belly. She looked at him for a moment, her eyes hard, determined.

  “It’s not right, Daniel,” she said at last. “He can’t be allowed to get away with this. How long till the next time?”

  Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know...” he started to say, but Kris pushed on.

  “How long till he actually rapes a pregnant woman?”

  The question threw him and he stared at her uncomprehendingly. Then, at last, he noticed her hand, defensive on her abdomen. His eyes widened, and a small gasp escaped from his mouth.

  “You... you...” He couldn’t speak, but Kris nodded, her face softening a little.

  “Yes, me,” she replied. at last. “I’m pregnant.”

  “How long... how long have you known?”

  “Only since yesterday. I was going to wait till we retur
ned to London, till I could see a doctor, before telling you.” Her voice was hard now, but not unkind. Still, however, she held Daniel in her gaze while he stared down at her belly, barely comprehending. In his eyes there was a light mixed with the pain that was engraved on his features.

  “But how... but how did it happen?”

  Her face darkened at this. “For God’s sake, Daniel! If I have to explain that to you, there’s no hope for us.”

  “No, please.” He shook his head, looking confused. “I mean, I thought you were on the pill.”

  She looked somewhat crestfallen, even embarrassed by this. Through her mind flashed all the accusations she could have launched against herself, that although they had not spoken much about this it was to have been something they would have planned together. “So did I. But, when I was preparing for the exhibition, we were travelling around so much...” Her excuses sounded lame to her, but also irrelevant. “It happened, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting it, but that’s how it is.”

  For a while she said nothing, simply watching the turmoil on his face, the mixture of love and anger, a sudden storm that had come from nowhere. “Come on,” she said at last, her voice soft and almost breaking with grief. “We better get to the hospital”.

  When she had been admitted the nurses had viewed Daniel suspiciously as soon as they glimpsed Kris’s bruises across her face. Kris had deflected their attention, redirecting it to the main task and telling them, briefly, that she had been mugged and wanted to check the condition of a suspected pregnancy.

  After a battery of questions and tests, they ran an ultrasound on her. On the screen, amid the ghostly, grey shadows, a black shape grew and pulsated, the amniotic sac of the foetus that beat in time with its heart.

  “You’re very lucky,” the nurse told her. “There seems to be no trauma whatsoever.”

  “Is it a boy or girl?” Daniel asked, watching the monitor with a look of wonder on his face.