Free Destroy Me by Laura Bailey Page B

she didn’t even know how to use one; neither did she want to have to know. It was so alien to her culture. It just wasn’t how things were done in London, and yet she almost wished she had one now.
    She didn’t feel safe; she also didn’t understand the threat.
    She paced the floor. She called Damien again but there was no reply.
    If she had the money, she would have been tempted to get on a flight tonight out of here, back to London. But, until her old boss gave her the go ahead to return, and hopefully advanced her wages, she was stuck. She couldn’t even afford a hotel room.
    She ached for Damien to come and help her, to reassure her. Her head began to pound, the beginnings of a migraine, fear causing the tension in her head to grow. Perhaps she was over-reacting, misinterpreting Marc, getting carried away and being melodramatic. The last couple of weeks had been an emotional rollercoaster and maybe she was loosing her perspective on reality.
    She spent the rest of the night in a state of anxiety, confused and frightened, unable to go to bed and staying up in the lounge until it got light.
     
     
    Chapter Eleven
    Tara woke fully dressed on the couch. She must have fallen asleep at some point in the early morning. It was now gone ten am. As she remembered her encounter with Marc Chambers, she was relieved that she appeared to have made it through the night without an intruder.
    Reaching for her laptop, she was anxious to try to find out more about him. She found his company, Beaumont Security, but that revealed very little to her other than professional information. She found pictures of him at various Washington functions, but little else that would help her. She disliked the feeling of being under threat, especially when she had no idea why. She wanted to know how he knew where she lived.
    She had put off checking her phone but she grabbed hold of it now, and saw again that there had been no communication from Damien. She threw the phone across the room, hitting the wall.
    “Rot in hell Damien.” She shouted at the phone, lying now on the floor.
    “Fucking men.”
    She included Chambers and Mike in the sentiment. The sooner she got back to London and her old job the better.
    She went into the kitchen and put the kettle on to make a cup of tea. Opening the fridge she realised she had no milk. It would have to be black, like her mood.
     
     
    Damien’s mission had been pulled off without a hitch; smoothly, efficiently and effectively. The team had landed back in D.C. in the early hours, under the cover of night, without the knowledge of the good citizens of Washington. Suffice it to say, that particular terrorist group were no longer on the loose to carry out their threats to America or any other Nation. Damien knew that their actions, dangerous as they had been, were for the greater cause; no more lives would be lost by those particular men. For that reason, he was deeply satisfied.
    Collecting his car at the airport, he headed back into D.C., aching for a long hot shower and some much needed sleep. He had spent the last few nights on watch, sleeping only a few hours in the daytime. He would check his emails and messages in the morning. They could wait until he had got some rest. For now, he just needed his bed.
     
    Several hours later, he woke, rested and ready to return to the office. Showering quickly, he dressed and grabbed his phone. As he headed out to his car, he saw a series of missed calls and texts, all from Tara.
     
    Tara heard her ring tone and realised her phone was ringing. She rushed to pick it up where it lay face down on the floor against the wall. She’d thought she’d broken it.
    There was no caller ID.
    “Hello?”
    “Tara.”
Her heart began to pound furiously.
    “I see we had an appointment yesterday. Unfortunately, I was unavailable. I thought perhaps you would like to have that appointment this evening instead?”
    He would see her again. Just one more time. It would be the last