wasn’t going to get killed my first day in a foreign country and become a statistic so easily. No, I was going to at least make him bleed. I shot up off the floor like I’d been launched from a catapult, and he took a fast step back. But not fast enough. My upper cut caught him on the chin, snapping his head back. The pain blossomed in my hand as if I’d hit a brick wall. I’d never hit anyone before and the satisfaction was gratifying in the face of my determination.
“Bloody hell, woman.” He recovered before I could do more than turn to make a break for the door, and he grabbed me from behind. His arms were like steel bands wrapping around me and lifting me up off the floor. I’m no petite wallflower, so his strength was evident. I struggled, cursing him as actively, violently and creatively as I could. I kicked and struggled, but it was no use. He held me as if I were no more than a big load of laundry. It was humiliating.
“Stop,” he commanded in a cajoling voice, and for a moment I felt like obeying him. Yeah, that passed pretty quickly.
“Up yours.” I kicked some more, managing to wiggle an arm free, and I swung it down and back as hard as I could. Contact. He dropped me like a bag of grain, going to his knees and cupping his groin protectively, knocking the chair over as he went down. He bellowed with rage and was already getting up as I got away.
I sprinted across the room and went straight to the first open door I saw, the bathroom. I locked myself in and, breathing like a racehorse, I sank to the floor.
“Damn it all to hell, this is not happening,” I said, gasping for breath. There was nothing in the bathroom to shove under the door handle, so I turned around and set my back against the door itself, bracing my feet against the marble floor. I grabbed the telephone and called down to the front desk.
“Guest services. How may I help you?” came a pleasant voice over the receiver.
“Call security. There’s a strange man in my room and I’m afraid he’s—”
“Open the damned door, Maddy. Now,” Bahlin yelled.
“Ma’am? Do you require assistance?” asked the voice, now concerned, on the other end of the line.
“Screw you, Bahlin,” I screamed at him, panting. “I’m calling for security.”
He laughed, a dark and threatening sound. “Good luck with that, Maddy. Open the door, girl, or I’ll be in there with you in a heartbeat.”
“Ma’am? I’m sorry. I can’t call security on Bahlin. I can only assure you that, unless provoked, he won’t hurt you. Thank you for choosing the Pemberton. Have a nice evening.” And the cultured front desk voice hung up on me.
What the freaking hell? What kind of hotel had I checked into?
I dialed back, and the same voice answered.
“Send security now you coward. You better get someone up here before I come down there and—” Click. He hung up on me.
I threw the phone across the bathroom only to have it careen back when the cord drew tight. Now I felt like the idiot. I sat there breathing hard and thought about what the front desk clerk had said. I wondered if punching Bahlin in the ’nads counted as provoking him? I was going to go out on a limb and say yes. And since I’d been advised he wouldn’t hurt me unless provoked, and I had deduced he’d been provoked by my person, I was in deep shit.
“I’ll ask yeh one last time, woman,” Bahlin growled through the door. Uh oh. The heavy brogue was back.
Stalling, I called out, “What about the note? What’s in it?”
The answer was an extended silence, and then I could hear him moving about the room.
“Where have you hidden the damned thing?” he muttered. It sounded like he was going through my things. “Ah ha. Here we are. What’s this?” I heard him pull the chair back into its upright position. He groaned when he sat down. “I doubt I’ll be able to function properly for a week.” There was the rustling of heavy paper, then total quiet.
I sat with my back to the bathroom door, listening to him first mumble to himself and then sit in silence. How had this happened to me? First the recurring nightmares, then my delusional experiences at the stones, then the notes left in my car and