Stepping into the townhouse in Paris, Amelia was doing her best not to feel overwhelmed. Walking into the large open planned living area straight from the street, she could see that nothing had changed. Everything had been where he had left it. Moving further into the space, she trod over the intricate wooden floor, leaving her case and bag by the door. Helmut loitered there, closing the door and locking it behind them.
He watched as Amelia moved to the kitchen, fingers skimming over the dark marble island worktop. The space wasn't all that big, but it was located in central Paris, which meant that a small space still cost a fortune. The kitchen was vast, however, with a large workspace and an island. There were all the modern appliances in stainless steel. There were leather stools at the other end of the island, letting it act as a breakfast bar. The spotlights were dimmed quite low, Amelia playing with a button by the door to the utility room and brightening them.
Helmut peeled his coat off of his body and hung it over a dining chair. The table was black metal, the chairs around it leather and high backed. The living area also had leather seating, a large L-shaped sofa with two armchairs either side of it angled at a large TV on the wall, a sideboard underneath it. The staircase was positioned to the front of the house, a spiral staircase that led upstairs to two bedrooms and a bathroom.
Looking around the space, it was most certainly Lukas's space. It was filled with the most expensive gadgets that he didn't need, but enjoyed playing with. His taste was expensive, the metals and leathers only the finest he could find to decorate the space. But there were some homely touches that Amelia had insisted on. Helmut remembered Lukas mock complaining about how she had taken over.
There was a bookshelf against the wall behind the armchair and large folding doors led onto an intimate courtyard she had decorated with plotted pants and bought an iron bench for, claiming that it would be perfect for summer evenings so they could sit out and stargaze. Helmut noticed other small things, like photo frames hung up with pictures of them instead of expensive artwork. Candles were also dotted around and there were throws and cushions on the sofa and armchairs.
"You've been here before, right?" Amelia asked from Helmut, peeling her light blue coat from her arms and setting it over the island as she moved to the sitting area, perching on the back of the couch.
"Many years ago," Helmut said to her. "It…well…it looks different."
"Not too different, I hope?" Amelia asked from him and he shook his head.
"More homely," he told her.
"Yeah," she said sadly. "That was what I had been going for."
He wondered if he had overstepped, but Amelia was back to moving around the room, pulling open the folding doors to let some air into the place. It felt stuffier than usual, but she supposed that's what happened when you didn't live in a house. Stepping into the courtyard, she could see that most of the plants she had bought had died. Frowning, she pulled at the dead head of a peony and twirled it in her fingers.
"I'll go out and buy some food," Helmut suddenly called from inside.
Dropping the flower to the ground, Amelia turned back to the house. Standing in the doorway, she saw him reach for his coat again and she wondered if he needed to get out. He probably felt overwhelmed like she did. Nodding her head, she forced herself to smile over in his direction, the motion not meeting her eyes like he knew it sometimes could.
"You going to be alright?"
"Perfectly fine," Helmut said. "I'll cook us dinner tonight. You stay here and relax. I saw you drifting to sleep on the flight so I imagine you must be tired."
"Alright," Amelia said and she didn't fight him for once.
He picked up the keys and left her alone in the house. She wanted some alone space if she had to be honest. She just needed time to be on her own in the house. She carried her suitcase up the spiral staircase and along the narrow hallway with a red and green striped runner down it. She entered the master bedroom and looked at it. Heading to the curtains, she pulled them open and looked out over the quiet, cobbled street. She opened the window again and checked the bedding. It seemed to be fresh judging by how it smelt like his familiar laundry detergent.
There was a dark blue throw at the bottom of the crisp white duvet. The headboard was the entire length of the wall in a colour that matched the throw. The bedside cabinets were grey, with a matching chest of drawers. There was a small walk in wardrobe hidden behind a sliding mirror. Amelia remembered the first time she had visited him, twirling around in the wardrobe and telling him how she could only dream of such a thing.
Three months later he had cleared half of it for her things.
Smiling, she looked at the photo of the two of them in Sokovia on her bedside table. It was from one of his friend's wedding and he was beaming down at her as she looked at him. Picking it up, she ran her finger over his chiselled jaw and closed her eyes for a moment.
"Please don't hate me for what I've done…what I'm doing…" she pleaded with him. "I'm just doing what I need to do…what I have to do."
Looking at the image once more, she placed it back down and then spotted the horrible dog statue he had bought on the floating shelves against the wall opposite the window. She laughed once at the sight of it, shaking her head and remembering how he had tried to persuade her to let him take it back to their new apartment in Norfolk.
Moving over to the walk-in wardrobe, she pushed the mirror to the side and looked into the room. Turning the light on, she saw that it was practically empty. There were only some of Lukas's clothes that he kept there. Stepping into it, she found a white shirt and picked it up, holding it in the air and admiring it before slipping it off the hanger. Screwing it up, she cradled it to her chest and sank down to the floor, wallowing in memories while she was on her own.
…
Helmut knew that Amelia had been crying. He had returned home from finding food in the local market and had locked the door once more behind him. He heard her come down the steps as he set the bags down on the island. He could see that her eyes were red and her cheeks also stained a crimson colour. She sniffed and tucked her hair behind her ears as she moved forwards, looking at the floor and hoping that he didn't notice.
"How was it?" Amelia wondered from him.
He didn't question why she had been crying, knowing that it was none of his business. He shrugged out of his coat once more and left it over a stool at the island. Rolling the sleeves up to his black jumper, he nodded and began unpacking.
"I found fresh salmon…vegetables…and, most importantly, wine," Helmut said, picking up the bottle as Amelia smiled at the sight of it. "I also found things for breakfast tomorrow considering we will be here for a while…orange juice…eggs…bacon, plus, I got you these."
Amelia didn't have a chance to ask what it was as he threw the packets towards her and she caught them in her hands. It was four bars of her favourite chocolate. She looked down onto them and Helmut watched for her reaction. He saw her smile and nod once, sniffing and then looking to him.
"Thanks," she said.
"You're welcome," he replied. "So, I was thinking that I might make a start on dinner. I know it is early, but I suspect after what happened in Madrid we could use an early night."
Amelia agreed with him on that point. "Do you need any help?"
"No," he told her. "You cook all the time when we're at your apartment so permit me to cook tonight. I can figure out where everything is."
"If you're certain?" Amelia asked.
He pulled down two wine glasses from the shelves on the long wall with the worktop running beneath it. Opening the lid, he watched the liquid chug out and he slid a glass across to Amelia. "Go and do what you want to do. Dinner won't be for a while."
"In that case, I'm taking this up for a bath," she said to him. "Thanks, Helmut."
Nodding once, he poured his own wine as he watched her retreat back up the stairs. He placed the rim of the glass to his lips and let it sit there as she finally disappeared from view. It was strange to think that what had happened in Madrid had only been the day before. There had been the pregnancy scare, followed by the incident with Rosie. And then there had been that night. They had gone to the bar and talked outside, Amelia telling him how she was worried to be with him again. But then they had drank more wine and somehow, he had ended up with her pressed against the wall in the darkened street and they had kissed as though they had no other worry in the world.
They hadn't slept with each other that night, but Helmut knew why that had been and he didn't say anything on the matter. He knew what had happened had been a scare for both of them. His mind had gone over all possibilities when he thought that she might be pregnant, but it had reached only one logical conclusion. He didn't want them to have another fright like that again, but at the same time he suspected that neither one of them wanted to stop, especially when there seemed to be a mutual attraction that they couldn't deny.
But, as Helmut cut potatoes, he knew that it was more than primal attraction. He knew that he felt something deeper for Amelia. She was easy to talk to. She was intelligent and not afraid to speak her mind. He admired her tremendously and she made him laugh with her dry wit. He tried to stop thinking those things whenever he caught himself watching her without realising it. But it was becoming increasingly difficult. Yet, he knew that he had a job to do. That came first.
He chopped and peeled vegetables with ease, letting the smells of his cooking float into his nostrils. He couldn't remember the last time he had really cooked and not just thrown something together very quickly. He was steady, however, taking his time and sipping wine as he moved around the kitchen.
Amelia came back down just as he was wrapping the salmon in asparagus and she moved over the wooden floor towards the kitchen, an empty wine glass in her hand. "That smells amazing."
"Salmon in asparagus parcels…with a side of carrots and parsnips and potatoes in a herb butter."
"This is like Michelin star treatment," Amelia said and Helmut chuckled, looking over to her.
She was wearing her pyjamas already, a silk light pink robe around her with the sash tied in the middle. He suspected it was something she had left her. She had piled her hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. She'd removed her makeup completely and smelled of rose and geranium. Sitting down on the stool at the island, she watched as Helmut took her glass that she had set down and refilled it.
"I don't think it is quite Michelin star," he said to her. "But I hope that it makes a change to us always eating and rushing meals."
"I'm sure it will. Let me set the table…do you want to eat here or at the dining table?"
"You pick."
Amelia opted for the island, grabbing sets of knives and forks and laying them down on the marble worktop by two placemats. She sat back down and watched as Helmut served up the food with precision. He set the two plates down on the mats and Amelia took in a whiff of the food up close.
"You should have cooked more often," she said to him and he sat down next to her.
"There's nothing wrong with your cooking."
"My cooking is a mess," Amelia said, picking up her knife and fork. "This looks like something I should take a picture of so that I can remember it."
He chuckled once more. "I think you might be exaggerating, but I will take the compliment. I only hope that it tastes as good as you seem to think it looks."
She placed a piece of salmon into her mouth and moaned lowly, Helmut watching her for confirmation. Nodding ferociously, she picked her wine glass up after setting her knife and fork down.
"You need to tell me how you cooked this salmon. Mine always comes out nothing like this," she commented. "And if this is main course then I can't wait to see what you've come up with for dessert."
"Ah, I have to confess that I did not think that far ahead."
"Well, I guess I can share my chocolate with you," she said, teasing him.
"That's very generous of you."
"What can I say? I think they'll be nominating me for the Peace Prize next," she said and he laughed at hearing her, lips turning upwards as she watched him. It was rare that he looked so carefree, but she liked seeing him like that. She loved seeing him look so relaxed because it never happened and, in some sense, she was happy that it was her who could make him look like that.
"I think that might be out of reach now, Amelia," he said to her.
Nodding, she popped a piece of carrot into her mouth and chewed down on it delicately. "True, I guess I'll just have to be content with the fact that I like you enough to share," she responded and watched him from the corner of her eye as he smiled and she picked her wine up once more, preparing for a long week ahead.
…
Standing in front of the mirror, Amelia felt completely ridiculous. She was tugging at the clingy material she was wearing and doing her best not to feel like she was suffocating. She hadn't been convinced on it in the shop when she had tried it on, but the sales assistant had persuaded her that it looked lovely on her. She had frowned, not sure, but in the end she'd taken it. As she looked in the mirror outside of the walk-in wardrobe, she was most certainly convinced it wasn't her.
"Amelia, are you almost ready?"
She sighed and shook her head. "No," she called back out to Helmut.
"Can I come in?"
Always so respectful, Amelia thought. "Alright," she called out to him and he pushed the door open.
Helmut adjusted the cufflinks he wore and Amelia looked at him in the mirror. He was wearing a new tuxedo, the black material of his trousers fitting him perfectly. The white shirt sat nicely on his body and he had a jacket over it, the buttons glistening in the light. He had the bowtie loose around his neck, the collar turned upwards.
Amelia swore she hadn't seen him look so dressed up in a long time. She did her best not to let her gaze linger too much on him as she moved her own eyes back to her reflection in the mirror. Helmut let his eyes move over her then too, seeing the way the red material hugged her body. The evening dress was tighter than her usual outfits, coming down to her ankles with a slit up the side of one thigh to just above her knee. The dress had a square neckline, sleeves sitting off her shoulders and meeting it.
"You look…" he trailed off.
"Like an idiot?" Amelia suggested.
"No, stunning," Helmut said, unable to stop himself as she turned around to look at him. "You look stunning, Amelia."
He couldn't help but think how different she looked compared to the woman Lukas had brought to Sokovia. She had stood out like a sore thumb with her fake confidence that couldn't mask her nerves. But now she was dressed in something that made her look like she would fit in perfectly, holding herself confidently and assuredly. She had changed. Helmut was unable to deny that. She was not the same Amelia he had first met, but then again, he wasn't the same Helmut.
"I…I feel like an idiot," Amelia said and Helmut shook his head as she moved to the smaller mirror on top of the chest of drawers. She pushed a hand into her hair and fluffed it up, grabbing the hairspray and spraying it against the long curls.
"You look anything but an idiot," he told her. "Trust me."
And she supposed that she did. She remained silent as Helmut began adjusting his bowtie, checking it in the large mirror that she had just left. He moved a strand of hair from his forehead, slicking it back and ensuring he looked clean cut.
"You know the plan tonight, don't you?" he checked with her.
"Get Edgington alone. Take care of him. Get out," Amelia said. That was the basics of the plan. "I know who we're pretending to be…Rosie's niece. Do you think they will buy that?"
"I looked into her and she did have an estranged sister who has a daughter," Helmut promised Amelia. "I think it only makes sense that you are her niece. Edgington knew Rosie. She was invited to this party. It only makes sense that he would believe it."
"And I got in touch because I suddenly started to see the light and believe everything about HYDRA was good," Amelia blanched at the thought, applying bronzer to her cheeks over her foundation. "Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? I told you I'm a terrible actor."
"You just need to be convincing for this party," Helmut told her. "And you've done a good job so far."
"I guess," Amelia agreed with him and finished off with the brush, laying it down on the surface and moving to the bed. She bent down and picked up the long white gloves that went with the dress. Slipping them onto her fingers, she looked to Helmut and nodded. "Ready."
…
Entering the party, Amelia did her best not to feel overly anxious. She had her arm inside of Helmut's. He was pretending to be her husband, attending the party with her. There were people who Amelia recognised from the HYDRA files they had deciphered. She did her best not to appear too worried. There were other people there as well, people she had never met and had no intention of getting to know.
The venue for the party was some large hotel that Edgington appeared to have booked out. It had an almost romantic feel to it with a grand sweeping staircase and walls lined with artwork that depicted, mainly, floral arrangements. The chandelier was also grand, hanging down from the ceiling and casting soft shadows on the floral patterned wallpaper. People were dressed in tuxedos and beautiful gowns. The whiff of expensive cologne and perfume wafted through the air. Amelia did her best not to let it overcome her, knowing that she was completely out of place.
Helmut handed someone on the door their invitation that they had taken from Rosie's house. The man checking it nodded once, but Helmut noted him turn around to talk to someone behind him. They had clearly been clocked as someone to watch. Moving across the foyer, they entered a large ballroom. There were three chandeliers spanning the room, the floor an old wood and a long table lined up on the other side of the room with a number of champagne glasses on it. A string quartet sat at the other end of the room, their soft melodies filling the room as people drank and joked.
"Drink, Madame?"
Amelia nodded at the passing waiter and took a glass from the tray. He offered Helmut a glass and he also took one. They held the champagne flutes in their fingers as Amelia looked around. Helmut shook his head softly and moved his free hand to her cheek, pressing on it softly and bringing her gaze back to him, thumb roaming over her cheekbone as he played the role of affectionate husband very well.
"Stop looking anxious," he urged from her.
"Sorry," she said. "I just need time to adjust."
"Understandable," Helmut promised her, lowering his hand from her cheek. "Come on, let's take a walk."
He held his hand out towards her and she took hold of it, her fingers lacing into his. He ran his thumb over her knuckles as her simple black heels clicked on the floor and they did a sweep of the perimeter, smiling at people as they walked by. Helmut clocked that there were about eighty people in that room and none of them had looked at Amelia and him with suspicion. Clearly, they didn't know them, but they had no reason to doubt them. They came to the end of the room by the open patio doors and Helmut felt the cool air from the night. He couldn't see the lawn that rolled beyond the ballroom, but he noted how Amelia's arms formed with goosebumps from the cold.
"He's here," Helmut said and Amelia took a sip of her champagne.
Looking to the main door, they spotted Edgington walking in. He was a tall man with broad shoulders. He had a pointed jaw that was covered in a well-trimmed beard. He was wearing a tuxedo with purple trimmed detailing; his black hair came down to the nape of his neck and had been slicked back. He looked quite handsome, Amelia couldn't deny that. He had a broad smile and glimmering blue eyes, but the issue was that he knew he was handsome. Amelia groaned into her champagne as he held his arms out, clearly indicating that he had arrived. People cheered and clapped, moving to greet him and no doubt fawn over him.
"He's certainly popular," Helmut commented.
"Or an arsehole?" Amelia mumbled into his ear and he chuckled, looking down to her and nodding.
"Perhaps more so," he commented. "He'll have been told about us having Rosie's invite. We'll wait for him to come to us: we're not going to him. It might do his ego some good to realise not everyone is falling over him."
"Good plan," Amelia said to him, finishing her champagne and placing the glass on a passing tray that a waiter was carrying, thanking him profusely.
"Come on," Helmut said, placing his glass down too. He held his hand out to her and she shook her head as he clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes. "I promise that you won't look like a fool. We're trying to blend in, so come on."
"You know I can't dance," she told him.
"You're not horrendous," he said.
"What a compliment," Amelia said and he smirked slyly. But she relented. She took hold of his hand and he walked to the middle of the ballroom floor. Falling into place amongst the other couples that were dancing, he took hold of her waist as she laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked around as he led her around, moving in slow circles as he kept one hand inside of hers.
"You know…you're really not that bad," Helmut said to her.
"You don't need to humour me. You've never danced with me before."
"That's not entirely true, is it?" he retorted. "Christmas at the care home, do you remember that?"
Amelia chuckled, nodding her head. "I do," she told him. "I remember my grandmother meddling and insisting we dance, but I don't think we were really moving…just stepping side to side."
"Well, we didn't want to get in anyone else's way," he said, remembering how her grandmother had told him that no one would get out of their way quick enough even if she could dance like she used to be able to. "Besides, I seem to remember you not complaining at the time."
"Nor did you," Amelia retorted.
"Touché," he retorted. It was that very same night when things had intensified in their relationship. "And I hate to break up our reminiscing, but we have Edgington approaching us. Just try and act calm. Look at me, Amelia," he urged and her gaze found his as his hand on her waist tightened. "I won't let anything happen to you."
But he didn't know if he had to tell her that because she seemed quite capable handling herself.
"Ms White, is it?"
Amelia turned her head over her shoulder to see Edgington stood there. He was looking at her with a wide smile and she tried to act indifferent as Helmut allowed her to turn around, escaping his grip. Holding her hand out, she acted every inch the confident person she was pretending to be.
"Mrs Roberts," she responded and he shook her hand slowly. "White was my mother's maiden name."
"I do apologise," he responded. "And this must be your husband?"
"Frank," Helmut said, holding his own hand out.
"Well, a pleasure to meet you both. Rosie never told me that her niece had joined the cause," he responded, a hand then going to his hair and pushing it back once more. "How is she? I know she lived like a recluse, but I sent her an invite anyway."
So he hadn't heard. Perhaps news had yet to travel. "She's well," Amelia lied to him. "She's not entirely social anymore, but she told me about the party and insisted I come and meet you, Mr Edgington."
"How kind of her," William said. He must have been told about them using Rosie's invitation. How else would he guess who they were? "Rosie did tell me that she had an older sister and a niece, but she never saw them."
"Well, my mother did not entirely appreciate HYDRA's aims," Amelia said to him. "However, I recognise them entirely. Frank and I…let's just say that we understand the need for control in the world after what has happened in recent years."
William's lips arched. "I'm glad to hear that," he said. "Any friend of Rosie's is a friend of mine. Say, Frank, would you mind if I stole your wife here for a dance?"
"Not at all," Helmut said, a hand going to the small of Amelia's back as he hoped she would be alright. He watched as she placed her hand into William's and he led her back to the middle of the floor as Helmut roamed to the edge, grabbing hold of another glass of champagne. He sipped on it slowly as he saw William smiling down at Amelia.
She returned the smile, but Helmut could see it was forced. He noted the way the man's fingers splayed over her back, pressing her against him and closer than Helmut wanted to see. His grip on the champagne glass tightened as the song finished and William placed a kiss to the back of Amelia's hand. She smiled at watching him go and kept that smile fixed in place until she was in front of Helmut.
"He wants to talk to me at nine," she said to him. "He knows about the Winter Soldier program. He told me he can tell me more."
"How did you get onto that conversation?"
"He asked if I knew what it was Rosie did. I told him I did…hopefully it made him trust me when I told him I am who I am," Amelia shrugged her shoulders. "So, until then we just have another half an hour before we can get what we need and get out of here."
"Well, I suppose this is much more convenient than having to wait until the end of the night to get him alone," Helmut concurred. He picked up another glass of champagne and handed it to her as they walked through the room once more and kept an eye on the time.
When it finally came to nine, Amelia left the ballroom with Helmut by her side. They moved up the staircase and towards the library on the first floor where he had told her to meet him. Coming down the carpeted corridor, the wood panelled walls seemed to close in until they saw three men stood by the door, clearly guarding it.
"We're here to speak with Mr Edgington," Amelia said to them.
"Only you, Mrs Roberts," one of them said.
They were all tall and muscular, guns clearly concealed in holsters hidden underneath their dinner jackets. Helmut shook his head slowly as Amelia shrugged her shoulders. Looking to him, she placed a hand to his shoulder and went to kiss him on the cheek, whispering in his ear.
"We need this," she said to him.
"Five minutes," Helmut responded to her. "I will be there in five minutes."
Nodding her head, she agreed. She could do that. She could buy five minutes. She pretended to say goodbye to him, knowing the three men couldn't hear them whispering. Kissing him once more on the cheek, they pushed the door open and Amelia walked in. Closing it behind her, Amelia looked around the grand library. There was a large mahogany desk sat against one wall and the walls were lined with bookshelves. Amelia would have marvelled at them had she not been here on business.
But William clearly picked up on her looking. "Impressive, isn't it?" he spoke.
He had been sat on the leather sofa by the wood-burning fireplace surrounding by intricate mantelpiece, a clock sat on top of it. Amelia noted the time and realised she just had to buy five minutes. She could do that.
"I take it these aren't all yours?" Amelia asked, moving to look at the collections.
He stood up and carried his small glass of whiskey with him. "No," he confessed. "This is the hotel's private library…they reserve it for only the most prestigious of guests."
"I should consider myself honoured then," Amelia said, finger skimming over a spine of a book.
"You should," he agreed with her and she knew he was closing in on her. She moved around the room once more, her footsteps light and steady as she let her finger dust over the edge of the bookshelves. William stood still lounging against a shelf, one hand in his pocket as he watched her. He took another sip of his whiskey before settling it down on the shelf next to him. "And you, Mrs Roberts, what is it that you do?"
"I had been working as a financial analyst," she said to him. "But it wasn't exactly thrilling."
"And is that what you want? You want the thrill?"
She tried not to balk at his words. Acting calm, she turned her head over her shoulder and looked back to him. "I want change," she decided on saying. "I want to do something significant…make the world a better place."
"Big aspirations."
"Is there any point in trying to achieve things if you don't have big aspirations?" she responded. "That's why you're trying to recreate the serum, right? The idea of reinstating the Winter Soldier program."
He chuckled. "How much has Rosie told you about that?"
Amelia shrugged. "Not much," she confessed. "Just that they almost had the serum, but it didn't work how they had hoped it would."
"Because Stark wasn't the expert," he scoffed. "He was intelligent, there is no denying that. But he didn't have the missing ingredient and his serum…well…it was nothing like Erskine's."
"And you do have the serum?" Amelia questioned.
There it was. There was a link between Stark's serum and the Winter Soldier program. She was silent as she stood where she was, pretending to observe the books in the case in front of her. Focusing more on those than William, she just wanted him to tell her what he knew. Looking at the clock, she saw that five minutes had gone by. Glancing to the door, she wondered where Helmut was. He had told her that he would be five minutes and she had seen him despatch men with more weapons than those three outside. Had something happened to him? Had they hurt him?
Amelia began to fret, needing to get out and get back to him. But William was stood behind her, his finger running down her spine and stopping dangerously low as she stiffened under his touch and he leant forwards, whispering hotly into her ear.
"It depends whose asking," he said. "Because I know you're not Rosie's niece."
Amelia felt her breath catch in her throat as his finger ran back up, pausing at the nape of her neck and then he moved his hands down her shoulders. "I don't know who you are," William told her. "But my men searched for Rosie's niece as soon as you told me who you were. They found her easily enough. People need to check their Facebook privacy settings a lot more."
Amelia turned and tried to move, but William grabbed hold of her by the throat, keeping her pinned against the shelves behind her. She tried to knee him in the groin, but he stepped up close to her, keeping her stuck between his body and the shelves.
"And I imagine that man out there…he might not be your husband…he might be…I don't know and I don't care. All I care about is finding out who you are," he said to her and moved his hand over her cheek, brushing his fingers into her hair that hung loose around her shoulders. "So we can do this the easy way or the hard way."
Amelia gathered as much moisture as possible before she spat at him in the face, hoping to take him off guard. She didn't get a chance as he reacted quicker, moving his hand and slapping her across the face, causing her to tumble to the ground. She tried to crawl away, stumbling to her feet as he wiped the spit from his face. He quickly stopped her from getting up, grabbing her hair and throwing her face down onto the floor by the fireplace.
"Have it your way, bitch," he seethed as she felt him straddle her waist and keep her face pressed to the floor, his hand holding the back of her head down as her cheek scratched against the carpet. She continued fighting him as she felt his hands reach for the dress against her thighs and pull it upwards.
…
Helmut had waited five minutes like he had promised her. He had gone back to the corridor and had despatched the three men quickly. What he hadn't anticipated was the fact that they had called back up. Before he could get away, he had found himself having to duck the punches and blows of three more men. He disarmed them as quickly as he could, shooting them cleanly in the head and then turning to the door. He grabbed the handle, but he couldn't turn it.
It had been locked. The key wasn't on the outside. Helmut shot at the door, hoping that would be enough to weaken the lock and he could kick the wood in. He knew that he had been longer than five minutes. Things hadn't gone to plan, but he had done his best to get into the room. He barged the wood with his shoulder, pushing against it as he heard yells from inside the room, following by sobs.
His heart pounded in his chest. He gritted his teeth and groaned out in frustration as he continued forcing the door open. He had to get in there. He had to find Amelia. He finally fell forwards, stumbling into the room and looking around. He gasped for breath and his stomach churned at what he witnessed.
Amelia was curled into a ball in the corner, a bronze statue of a man sat on a bench next to her. But the statue was covered in blood. Amelia's face was white, her red dress splattered with darker shades of red that Helmut realised were blood. The tips of her hair were also matted with it and tears from where she had been crying. And then Helmut looked to the man on the floor. William was there, but he was hardly recognisable. His face was contorted. Blood pooled from his head and Helmut noticed that his trousers were loose, his fly undone.
Looking back to Amelia, he noted how her own dress was hiked up her thighs, the sleeves that sat off her shoulder were pulled further down her arm, one of them completely ripped.
"You said five minutes!" Amelia spat at him, her eyes wide and wet as she shook back and forth, rocking in the ball she was settled in. "Where were you?"
Helmut shook his head as he moved towards her, ignoring William as he knelt down in front of her. He moved a hand to the back of her head, cradling it tenderly in his palm, but she pushed at his arms and chest. It wasn't enough to move him, but it was enough to make his own chest ache with horror.
"You said five minutes…you…where…" she couldn't form a coherent sentence as she began crying openly again and Helmut feared the worst as he brought her closer to him and she burrowed her face against his shoulder and he shook his head, chin pressed against her unkempt curls.
"I've got you," he promised her in a soft whisper. "Amelia, I've got you."
She continued crying as he realised that he had to get her out of there. Looking around the room, he saw that she was still wearing her gloves and there was nothing else of hers in the room.
"Come on," Helmut said. "Amelia, I need to get you out of here. Come on…please…"
He somehow managed to get her onto her feet, but she was unsteady. He unbuttoned his dinner jacket and slipped it from his arms. Quickly, he draped it over her shoulders and helped her to shrug her arms into it. He pulled it tightly around her, trying to hide the fact she was covered in blood. She was shaky on her legs, adrenaline coursing through her still. Helmut wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her from the room and keeping his body tight against hers as she somehow moved in a daze, completely unaware of where they were going.
They moved down the corridor and Helmut noticed the fire escape. He pushed the door open, hoping it wasn't alarmed as they left through a back staircase and he kept looking over his shoulder as they went towards the car park at the back of the hotel. He found where they had parked the car and unlocked the rental, holding the door open for Amelia to slip into the passenger seat.
Climbing into the driver's side, he turned the ignition on and backed it out of the bay. He drove away from the hotel, knowing that they would have found the bodies by now. He kept his foot steady on the accelerator, looking over to Amelia as she stared straight ahead and the light from the passing lampposts lit up her face, casting shadows over her features. Helmut knew what he had to say. He knew what he had to ask, but he didn't want the answer.
"Amelia…he…did he…" he couldn't even ask it, his hands on the steering wheel tight as he looked straight ahead.
"I hit him before he could," Amelia whispered and Helmut nodded once, not even able to imagine how scared she had been. Why had he let her go in there alone? Why did he not just drag her away and back with him? Why did he say he would give her five minutes to get the information?
"He tried," Amelia whispered into the eerie silence of the car. "He…he…"
"Shhh," Helmut whispered softly as he heard her voice grow louder with fear. "It's alright, Amelia. You don't need to tell me. You don't need to put yourself through that again. It's alright," he assured her and grabbed hold of her hand for a moment, squeezing it tightly as she nodded.
She could still feel his warm breath against her neck as his hands pushed her dress up to her waist and she pushed at his shoulders. She could feel his hands grabbing at her thighs, forcing them apart as she squirmed beneath him and tried to get him off of her. She had looked around as he continued pawing at her and she had seen the statue on the edge of the mantelpiece. She'd reached for it, grabbing it as quickly as possible before bringing it down over his head, doing what she had to do to get him off of her.
Closing her eyes, she blinked back the tears as she looked to Helmut once more and she knew she shouldn't blame him. It wasn't his fault. She had agreed to go in there. He wasn't to know. Neither of them were to know. It took her a moment to gather her breath as she looked out the window once again and they finally arrived back at the house.
Helmut unlocked the door to the townhouse and led her inside, a hand on the small of her back as she looked to the staircase. "I'm going to shower," she said to him and he nodded. He watched her move up the staircase and he went to grab the bottle of whiskey he had bought earlier in the week.
Picking out two glasses, he carried them upstairs and to his own room. He poured his own glass and shot the alcohol in seconds, letting it burn the back of his mouth pleasantly. This wasn't what he had wanted. This wasn't what was supposed to have happened. He couldn't risk Amelia again and he couldn't stand the thought of almost seeing her hurt again. He wanted to go back to that hotel and he wanted to kill William all over again for even thinking he could lay a hand on her.
He took another glass of whiskey to his lips, downing it once more as he realised that no noise had come from the bathroom. He moved cautiously towards it, knocking on the wood.
"Amelia, are you alright?" he questioned.
But there was no response. He began worrying and knocked again, but she still didn't respond. He turned the handle and peered around the corner, grateful she hadn't locked the door. He kept his gaze lowered, giving her privacy. But then he saw her stood in front of the mirror, simply staring at her reflection as she looked at the blood on her dress.
"Amelia," he whispered her name and she turned to look to him, lips parted slightly as she then looked back to the mirror.
"I…I just saw it," she said to him. "And I…I was just staring…thinking…"
"It's alright," he promised her once more. "I'll deal with them for you, don't worry."
She nodded her head and looked to him once more. "I know…I know what we are," she promised him and he wondered if he had ever seen her look so vulnerable before. She almost looked broken, like a bird without a wing. "But just…just tonight…I need…"
Helmut nodded his head at her, wondering what she was asking from him and he stepped closer to her. He was tentative, not wanting to overcrowd her or make her feel uncomfortable. He wanted her to be the one to tell him what she needed. But he suspected he knew what she needed. She needed someone just to be with her. She didn't want to be alone.
And that was true. She didn't want to be alone that night. She just wanted him there because he was the only one in the entire world who she trusted at that moment in time. She began to pull her gloves from her fingers before shrugging out of his jacket. She dropped them onto the floor, not caring about them in the slightest as she reached for the side of her dress and found the concealed zip. Helmut turned around.
"I'll give you a moment."
"It's alright," she promised him, reaching for his wrist. "I don't want you to go."
Helmut nodded and didn't look as she slipped out of the dress, dropping it to the ground along with her underwear. She watched as he just stood there and she sighed. "It's fine," she promised him. "Just…I want you to stay. Please."
Nodding his head, he looked her in the eye and reached his hand out to brush against her cheek softly. There was nothing sensual about any of this and he knew that. This was simply comfort. This was simply him looking after her and her needing him. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt as Amelia turned to the wall and stepped into the large walk-in shower that hid behind it. Helmut heard the running of water as he finished undressing, following close behind her and seeing her stood underneath the water.
He kept his distance, the spray only hitting him as he let Amelia wash. He watched as the dried blood from her arms stained the water red, falling down the plughole and leaving no evidence of what had happened. She turned around to face him, handing him the shower gel he used before she lathered her hair with shampoo. He showered behind her and then glanced down, noting the purple bruises on her legs. He inhaled sharply and shook his head, dropping the bottle to the ground.
"Amelia…" he whispered her name and she turned to look at him once more, the water dropping down her face and off her chin.
She looked down and noted the bruises as well, shaking her head. "He didn't do anything," Amelia promised Helmut. She kept telling herself that. She kept telling herself that she had escaped. She had gotten away from him before he could hurt her. But the thought was still there.
"I should never have left you with him," Helmut shook his head firmly. "We should never have gone…I should…this is my fault…if he…he hurt you…he hurt you…my…"
He knew that it should be him comforting her, but it was Amelia who took his cheeks into her hands, stepping closer to him and shaking her head. She brought his face down to hers, his forehead brushing hers as she spoke.
"It's not your fault," she said firmly to him. "You weren't to know."
"I still should never have left you."
"I went on my own," she responded. "I've told you before, Helmut, I can make my own decisions. I went into that room. I went."
"But I shouldn't have let you," Helmut said firmly. "I should never have let you."
"Don't do this," she pleaded with him. "Just don't…don't blame yourself…please…"
She begged him and Helmut gulped loudly as he looked to her and he shook his head. How could he not blame himself? This was all his fault and he wasn't going to think any differently. He felt Amelia wrap her arms around his waist, her cheek pressing by his shoulder as he moved his own arms around her, the water simply drenching both of them as he cradled her in his hold.
They stayed there until the water turned cooler and then stepped out, Helmut handing Amelia a towel as he struggled to see in the steam filled room. She wrapped it around her midriff as he wrapped his around his waist and he watched her move into her bedroom. She didn't close the door as he took the guest room and dried off, changing into his grey short-sleeved pyjama top with long blue bottoms. He ran the towel through his hair, simply towel drying it and letting it sit damp on his head.
Tossing his towel over the radiator, he poured Amelia a glass of whiskey. Carrying it down the hallway, he knocked on her open door. He walked in only after she had granted her affirmation for him to enter. Moving towards her slowly, he handed her the glass and she took it.
"Thanks," she said to him.
"Do you want anything else?"
"No, I'm fine," she promised him softly and drained the alcohol, tossing it down her throat. She was changed into her pink robe again, her hair damp down her back and her pyjamas poking out from the robe. "I'm just…well…not even tired."
"I understand," he told her, realising that she didn't want to go to sleep just yet.
"I might just read for a bit," Amelia said and he saw that battered copy of Emma still on her bedside table. He wondered how she hadn't finished it yet, but said nothing. Helmut nodded as she slipped to sit down on the edge of the bed, placing the empty glass down on her bedside table.
"Alright," he said. "I'll leave you to it. Just…shout me if you need anything."
"I…will you stay?" she wondered from him. "Just for a little bit."
Helmut nodded his head, agreeing with her and he didn't know if he should feel so uncomfortable as he sat down next to her on the bed. He sat up and leant against the headboard as Amelia picked her book up and he looked down at it.
"You're still reading that?"
"If I told you that I was re-reading it, would you be surprised?" she questioned.
"Not at all," he said. "But I imagine you know it all of by heart," Helmut said to her and she shrugged. "May I?" he questioned from her.
He held his hand out and she passed him the book. He opened it and looked at the first page. He began reading aloud and Amelia laid down onto her side, a hand moving underneath her pillow as she listened to him. He continued talking, his voice low and gentle as he seemed to have found himself reading to her. He only made it to chapter five by the time he noticed she was asleep, his voice trailed off as he saw her with her eyes closed, lips parted softly. She had a hand curled by her chest and another under the pillow she rested on.
Placing her book down gently on the bedside table, Helmut stood up and reached for the throw at the bottom of the bed, pulling it over her and trying not to wake her. He watched her for a moment before leaving for the door, turning the lamp off. But he didn't get far. She soon shook herself awake, whimpering softly. He had seen this before. He knew she had nightmares, just as he did.
But he didn't leave her alone this time. He moved back to the bed, sitting on the edge of it as she opened her eyes and he moved a hand to her arm covered in the blanket.
"It's alright…I'm here," he promised her. "Amelia, it's alright…"
She nodded and gulped loudly as Helmut looked down to her and she said nothing as she sleepily reached for him. "Stay," she whispered and Helmut knew there were so many reasons why he shouldn't. But, as he looked at her closing her eyes and reaching out for his arm, he didn't have any good ones.
Laying down on his side behind her, he wondered if he should stay there the entire night or just until she felt back to sleep. He moved to rest on his back as her hand moved to his shoulder and gripped onto it, her chin by it and her breath on his neck. He turned his head to watch her and moved his arm across his body, fingers brushing her hair from her face as she kept her eyes closed and he wondered if she was sleeping again. He didn't know. All he knew was that he closed his eyes and found himself falling to sleep beside her, and not once did his nightmares wake him.
…
A/N: Longest chapter yet! Hope you're still enjoying and thanks to my two usual reviewers - would love to know what you think and anything you want to see! Please do let me know you're reading!