III

Reigh stood frozen in place, her eyes shooting left and right to try and see if the mention of Thomas’s name had pulled anyone else’s attention.

She knew the voice of the man behind her all too well, unfortunately. She’d been the reason it was raised more than once, most recently because she’d had to tell him off for harassing the personnel at a family barbeque with Thomas’ mother’s side of the family. Fun times.

“Paul!“, she finally managed to squeeze out, defrosting from her rigid stance to face him. ”What a coincidence, I hadn’t expected to see you here!”

There was no denying how fake her voice sounded even to her own ears, but if he did notice it he did not let her know. Instead he grinned, mentioning something about just how happy he was that she remembered him.

Remember him? She’d have to work a lifetime to forget all the drunken, drug-fueled episodes of his she’d had to suffer through in the past three years. His name was Paul fucking Benoit, as he often enjoyed to introduce himself, and he was a cousin of Thomas’s. He was also less formally known as the black sheep of the family, for reasons aforementioned.

An unsavory grin pulled at the man’s lips as he took Reigh in top to bottom.

“You look great”, he all but purred, those beady eyes glazed over by more than alcohol alone she knew. “I’m more surprised to see you. The future miss Picard! And working as a waitress, no less. Why, does Thomas know you’re here?”

To onlookers it might have seemed like an innocent enough question, but almost immediately alarm bells starting ringing in Reigh’s head. The way Paul’s eyebrows raised, in such a cocky manner...

Oh, he knew about her situation, alright.

“Can’t say he does, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

The response had left her lips before she’d given herself ample time to think, and for a moment Reigh’s fake-happy tone cracked to betray the icy feeling she’d been trying to hide underneath.

Perhaps snapping at him wasn’t the best way to go here - the way his lips pulled into a thin line certainly suggested so -, but not reigning him in could potentially prove to be lethal too. Paul had two personalities: either he was too high to give a damn, or he was all up in everyone’s business.

“Oh, I don’t know...” he drawled out the words slowly, seemingly pondering on them himself. “He is family, after all.”

Only now was she becoming aware of how large Paul actually had become. He wasn’t a pleasant man to be around when he stood a few feet away, but with the way his tall, broad figure loomed over her now she was mildly disgusted to say the least. She could actually smell his breath; an unfortunate cocktail of whiskey, smoke and heartburn.

“Are you aware that your soon to be husband is offering quite the finder’s fee to whoever can tell him where you are?”

Paul’s lips pulled into a chesire smile, and a short surge of panic caused the hairs on Reigh’s arms to raise in alarm. She took a measured step back, mentally fighting to keep herself steady and focused.

“I might just take him up on that offer. Unless you have a better one, of course”, he shrugged in a fake gesture of casualness. “I could be persuaded to keep my lips shut for the right price. Tell me, cherie, are you busy tonight?”

Ah. That was why he’d come to talk to her in the first place, then. To blackmail her. There seemed to be a lot of that going around today.

“What-” She coughed politely, trying to ease the tremble in her voice before making a second attempt. “What would that price be, exactly?”

Negotiating with a terrorist was a bad idea, but allowing him to blow everything to shit without even trying did not seem like a viable option either. As much as it sucked, she was going to have this conversation.

She just hoped he wasn’t going to want a payday from her broke ass.

“That.”

He clicked his tongue as he pointed at her.

“And that...”

This time his finger landed on her lips, earning himself a clear look of disgust as he momentarily tried to wriggle it into her mouth.

“And of course, that.”

It was the last droplet causing the bucket to overflow as Paul reached out with his hand, cupping Reigh’s breast in a room filled to the brim with people. The conversation in the sitting area next to them had come to an abrupt halt, everybody staring dumbfoundedly at what Paul was doing.

It took a moment for his real intentions to dawn on Reigh too, but when she did understand she slapped away his hand at once. Something that held the middle between a gasp and a sneer forced it’s way up from her chest. Her first instinct was to curse and tell him to drop dead, but she was well aware of the predicament she was in right now.

She was willing to go quite far to keep Thomas away, but this man had to be one fry short of a happy meal if he thought he could persuade her into fucking him to silence. This buffoon was the only thing standing between her and her freedom right now, though.

“Paul...“, She breathed out, realizing the disgusting act of begging was her only option now. “You can’t ask me to do that. I’ll give you anything you want to keep you from telling Thomas where I am, but you can’t force me to sleep with you. Please.”

Reigh hadn’t even noticed how quiet it’d gotten around them until the gasps of several people registered in her mind. When she did notice her own mistake, it was already too late. The cheeky grin on Paul’s face slowly morphed into a look so angry, it frightened her just a little.

“Force?”

His voice raised in pitch; starting low but heightening with every word.

“Who said anything about force? You know who I am, do you not? I would never force you to sleep with me. I’ve seen your dirty gazes. Sleeping with me would be a privilege to you!”

There, she’d done it. She’d caused a great fucking scene.

She was actively digging her own grave here.

Other guests and colleagues of Reigh’s had started to surround them and were trying to calm down the raging beast of a man in front of her, but none were having much luck.

“I should just tie you up and deliver you to that fucking pathetic excuse of a fiancé of yours, you know? It’s no secret that he has a different whore warming his bed every night. Force? Ha! You should be begging me to have you!”

At this point Paul’s arms were swinging around in grand gestures, and people were ducking rather than trying to help. He was portraying a textbook example of a coke user; manic as fuck and angry beyond reason.

A laugh that was close to derailed reverberated from his chest.

“Actually, that’s what I’m going to do. Come here cherie. I’m going to have some fun with you, and after that-”

For a split second Reigh thought she was going to have to physically defend herself. Her hands were already raised in an attempt to protect those parts of her that were most likely to be grabbed by Paul first - tits, apparently -, but someone managed to halt him before that.

“That’s quite enough, I’ll say.”

The voice that interrupted them was so calm, it was somehow infinitely more scary than Paul’s ranting had been. A bit taken aback Reigh turned her head, trying to discover where it had come from.

As he pushed himself through the small crowd that had gathered, she recognized his face in an instant. Aides Hasapis, the owner of this place.

Despite him being her boss she hadn’t actually been formally introduced to him yet, but she knew him from previous business events she’d visited with Thomas some time ago. He’d considered opening a restaurant chain on some of the Picard cruise ships, if she remembered correctly. At any rate they'd talked for a bit.

“I am sorry to say we will not be doing business tonight after all, mister Benoit. I’d like you to leave the premises now.”

A tightlipped smile remained perfectly in place as he uttered the words, but the rest of his expression was telling a different story altogether. Reigh could feel a shiver running down her spine at seeing those dark, ember eyes again. Even Thomas had visibly feltintimidated by that angry stare.

“Pardon you? I- We-”

Paul sputtered, having to actually look away and focus on Reigh for a moment before he could collect his marbles and feel righteous in his anger again.

After a few seconds he planted his feet firmly on the ground and huffed. “Suits me just fine”, he grumbled, his left hand forming a fist at his side. “I’ll leave, but the bitch comes with me.”

He seemed quite proud of his statement, but based on the gasps resonating from the people around them it was the wrong way to go. Reigh glared at the two alternately, feeling quite torn in her conviction herself.

She was infinitely thankful to mr Hasapis for coming to her aid, but his solution didn’t quite suite her either. Paul couldn’t leave. If Paul left he’d be free to give Thomas a call the second he was out of here, and if that happened she was effectively done for. A girl could only pull off a big escape so many times.

“I don’t think you quite understand how this is going to work”, Aides mused in that same low and icy tone that he had used before. “This woman here is one of my employees. She is going to stay. You are going to leave.”

As if on cue the bouncer that had stood guard at the entrance of the VIP-lounge earlier made an appearance to Paul’s right. The man was at least a head smaller than Paul, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in muscle. One step in his direction was all it took for Paul to freak out completely.

He lunged forward, away from the security’s guards grasp and right towards Reigh.

At first she thought he’d only bumped into her by accident, but when his meaty fists started to claw at her top to pull her with him she panicked. Going for the first and only defense move she mastered she pulled up her knee, aiming for the crown jewels.

Hell broke loose. Paul cursed as he doubled over, and the people around them jumped to get out of the way while Aides’ voice roared over the sound of the commotion. Reigh cursed loudly, trying to balance herself as she shot free of Paul’s grip.

She’d only just managed to keep herself upright and was looking left and right for someone to hide behind when she noticed that the people around her suddenly stood very still, their eyes focused on one common point.

The distinctive click didn’t register to her brain as familiar at first, but when she turned around to notice the gun that Paul had pulled from somewhere she realized just what it had meant.

The safety was off.

And the weapon was aimed right at her chest.

Fuck.