wearing some old worn jeans, his brown leather boots and a black T-shirt, and he’s leaning over the desk by the window, hands braced on the sides. He looking down at the map, which is spread across the wood. I approach him quietly and stare down at the old piece of paper. It’s not just his part of the map, though. The missing piece that Mr H had hidden in his walking stick all this time is resting where it should be, filling the hole that’s been present for years. It’s glowing, like it’s happy to have been reunited with the rest of the map. And a handwritten note is set to the side. The deciphered code. ‘How did you figure it out?’ I ask.
Becker breathes out heavily. ‘These numbers here on the missing piece.’ He runs his delicate finger across the ancient paper. ‘Gramps thought it was a code. It isn’t.’
‘Then what?’
‘Coordinates, but they’ve been manipulated to look like a complex code. This map isn’t as old as I thought.’
‘How old did you think it was?’
‘Older than seventeenth century when coordinates were invented,’ he muses, his finger stopping over Rome. ‘There are eight columns on the face of the porch of the Pantheon, and if I’ve calculated it correctly, these coordinates indicate between the fourth and fifth columns, about six metres back.’
My astonishment is obvious in my small draw of breath. ‘That’s quite accurate.’
‘Almost too accurate,’ he muses, straightening. ‘But I guess I’ll find out soon enough if it’s a dead end.’ He glances across to me. ‘Ready?’
That feeling inside of me – the one I’ve concluded was excitement – has just soared. I nod and he smiles, taking my hand and pulling me into his chest. I could shout my happiness. He’s not mad with me any more. Cupping my cheeks, he flicks a frown up to my wig before he brings our mouths together, and all of the lust I’ve managed to keep at bay steams forward. ‘I’m still mad with you,’ he breathes, sealing our lips and kissing me softly as he takes my jeans from my hand and tosses them on the bed.
I don’t reply, rounding his shoulders with my arms. That was the most unconvincing I’m mad with you that I’ve ever heard. He lets out a deep growl, rolling his tongue, exploring my mouth carefully as he walks me back.
‘We can spare a few minutes,’ he says, taking me down to the bed and smothering me. ‘Just a few minutes.’
I grin to myself, accepting and delighted, feeling him taking my arms and pushing them to the headboard. ‘Hmm,’ I hum, lacing my fingers with his and squeezing. His kiss is deep and soft, his body heavy atop of mine. It feels so good. So right. As ever, I’m lost in my corrupt fiancé and his corrupt world.
‘Sorry, princess.’ He lifts and I hear the clanging of metal, my wrists suddenly trapped above my head.
‘What?’ I look up and see a pair of handcuffs securing me to the bed. ‘No!’ I wriggle and the metal cuts into my wrists harshly. ‘Becker!’ I feel the mattress move and shoot my eyes down to find him standing at the foot of the bed. ‘What are you doing?’ I shout incredulously.
‘Leaving you here where I know you’re safe, that’s what.’ He stalks across the room and hauls up a backpack from the floor, grabbing the map.
‘Becker, you can’t.’ I wrestle with my restraints, flipping and twisting on the mattress.
‘I fucking can,’ he says on a laugh, throwing the bag over his shoulder and making his way over to me. ‘Did you really think I’d take you with me?’
‘Yes!’ I shout. ‘This isn’t fair!’
He reaches for my hair and pulls off my wig, tossing it on the chair in the corner on a disgusted look. ‘That’s better.’
‘Becker.’
‘I love you.’
‘Fuck off!’
He smiles at me, his look, annoyingly, rampant with love. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ He stalks to the door and swings it open, looking over his shoulder at me. ‘And just so you know, I’m going to spank you stupid when I’m back.’ The door slams and he’s gone.
‘Becker!’ I hiss and spit all over the bed, throwing my body up violently for a few long, pointless minutes until I’m out of breath and my muscles ache. ‘You bastard!’ I scream. My anger is potent, my body buzzing with fury as I lay on the bed, restrained, with only my wild imagination to keep me company.