Author's note: I'm hoping to finish up this story soon, maybe 3 more chapters after this one. And this chapter, ugh, it's been giving me fits. I've hacked and chopped and added and subtracted then added back again. I had a beta look it over, so hopefully it makes sense and isn't just a bowl of word salad with angst dressing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Things got out of control with Zalina from the moment Walter entered her hotel room.

"Uh, nice room," he said as she tossed her bag inside. At least that's what he'd meant to say. His words were cut off at "Uh, ni. . ." when she swirled around and forced his back up against the door he'd just closed behind him.

"Finally, lyubovnik,"she murmured, her hot whisper scorching his ear as she rubbed herself against him. As he grunted in shock, she smashed her mouth onto his, thrusting her tongue between his open lips.

Everything about her was wrong; how she smelled, how she tasted, how the weight and shape of her body felt on his, how she was touching him. . . He wanted to actively resist the assault on his senses, his heart telling him to push the singer away. He didn't want her. She wasn't Paige.

But his brain overrode his heart, reminding him of the greater good as it shifted into reptilian mode, telling him to forget about his love for Paige and focus on his mission.

"Come on, let's fuck," Zalina said, lifting her mouth from his before limping over to the bed, pulling him with her. He stumbled, nearly knocking her down and falling on top of her.

"Uh, why. . .why d-don't w-we have a dr-drink first," he countered as he awkwardly regained his balance.

"I thought you say you don't drink," she said, flopping down on the mattress with a pout.

"I, uh, I thought I'd take you up on your offer from the other day to, y-you know, um, have a drink and get to. . .get to know each other b-better."

"Oh, we're going to know each other," she purred as she laid back onto the bed, her short skirt riding up her bare legs. "We're going to screw each other's brains out."

Walter averted his eyes away before he glimpsed something he really didn't want to see. Scanning the room, he spotted several bottles which appeared to contain alcohol on top of a small refrigerator.

"Let's have a dr-drink first," he repeated, moving closer to the minibar.

"Why you so interested in drink?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as she rose up off the mattress and hobbled toward him. "I want to fuck now. We can drink later."

"I-I, um, I'm thirsty," he said, retreating backwards. "I. . .I. . ."

Zalina caught up to him when he smacked into the wall. Gripping his arms, she slid her hands upward and began skillfully massaging his shoulders. "Mmm, maybe we should have drink," she said. "You're so stiff. But not where you should be."

She reached toward his groin and he panicked for a second, not wanting her to find out what he had (and didn't have) in his jeans. He managed to slip away before she grabbed him.

"S-Sorry," he mumbled, flicking his eyes between her face and the floor. "It. . .It's b-been a long day and. . ." Walter rubbed the back of his neck before waving his hand at the bottles of alcohol. "Vodka or. . ."

"The vodka," she replied with a husky laugh. "You haven't had vodka until you drink real Russian vodka. Here," she said, moving toward the minibar , "let me get it for you."

"No, you're supposed to be resting your ankle," he countered, blocking her way. "Uh, why don't y-you, um, w-wait on. . .on the bed?"

"Okay." She hobbled over to the bed, crawling up toward the headboard, where she arranged herself against the pillows.

Taking a deep breath, Walter picked up the vodka, unscrewing the lid then divided the contents between two glasses he found next to the minibar. As surreptitiously as he could, he pulled the vial from his pocket and added two drops (per Toby's instructions) to one of the cups.

Zalina must not have noticed his actions as she readily accepted the glass he proffered her. "How you say it. . . Cheers?" she said, lifting her cup in the air

"Uh, yeah, cheers." He raised his drink as well before taking a sip. The singer knocked back hers in one shot, licking her lips as she set the cup down on the closest nightstand.

He would have been alarmed by the lascivious stare she was giving him if he hadn't been struggling to breathe, the alcohol burning its way down his throat. Focusing all his attention trying not to cough and sputter, he was taken completely off guard when she rose up off the mattress and snaked her arms around his neck.

"Okay, you have your drink now," she said, taking the glass from his hand and drinking it down as well, tossing it to the floor when she was done.

Her fingers kneaded his shoulders to his arms, giving his biceps a squeeze. "I like man with muscles," she said, her busy hands then wandering down his back until they cupped his buttocks, giving then a not-so-gentle squeeze. "And a tight ass."

She began undoing the buttons of the flannel shirt he'd deliberately fastened up to the top. "Relax," she murmured before kissing him again. She plunged her tongue into his mouth again as she worked her way downward.

Tugging his shirt off his shoulders, Zalina flung it across the room before sliding her hands down the front of his tee. When she reached the waistband of his jeans, she slipped her fingers up under the thin layer of cloth, to the bare skin underneath.

Walter shuddered with revulsion, struggling not to flee the room. The drug should have been taken effect by now. Toby said it would work in a few minutes. That had obviously been a lie, as a wholly unaffected Zalina licked up and down his neck before stopping and sucking on a spot near his collarbone.

She was touching him in areas he'd had no idea were sexually stimulating until just a few days ago, and as much as he tried to resist, he couldn't stop himself from reacting. Closing his eyes, he allowed images of Paige drift through his mind, reminding him of how beautiful she was, how much he loved her, and how being with her was so wonderful. . .

Abruptly, he shut off his brain as his body began to respond to his memories of having sex with the liaison. "Hey," he said as she yanked his undershirt over his head and flung it across the room. "Uh, we, uh. . ."

She ran her hands up and down his bare chest before pushing him backward onto the bed. "I thought you want me," she said petulantly pinning him to the mattress as she straddled him. "Why you so nervous, lyubovnik?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "You have sex before, da?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, scratching the back of his head. "It's just, uh, it's just been. . .been awhile." She didn't need to know it had been all his life until only two days ago.

She gave a short hoarse laugh. "You not forget how?"

"No, I remember the basic physiology. . ." His words trailed off as she pressed herself against his groin, making him certain she wasn't wearing any undergarments as he could feel her heat. . .and dampness through his clothing.

"So, you play. . .what. . .hard to get?" More like hard to get hard," she muttered with a husky chuckle.

"N-No. I. . .I. . .I. . ." He tried to affirm he did indeed want her, but the lie wedged itself in his throat.

Fear paralyzed him as she stripped off her top, displaying her braless breasts. She then wiggled out of her skirt, filling him with shame when he couldn't control his reaction to her movements. Clutching handfuls of the bedspread, his breathing coming in shallow pants, the sensations becoming too much to bear as she unzipped his jeans and slipped her hand into his boxers.

Walter bucked up off the mattress when she grasped him. "Umm, very. . .very. . .nice," she said, running her hand up and down his length, her words slightly slurring.

"Pl-Please. . .please. . ." Not knowing if he was begging her to stop or for the drug to kick in since it didn't matter. Tears stung his eyes as she positioned herself over him, bringing home the disconcerting fact if he moved just a millimeter or so upward, they would. . .

He retreated into the safe haven of his brain, one last lingering thought resounding through his head.

He loved Paige. And he'd failed her.

ooooo

Paige paced back and forth in her hotel room, absently noting she was wearing a groove into the thick carpeting. It seemed like it had been hours since she'd left Walter by the ambulance. With Zalina. Holding her shoes and her hand.

With a groan, she pushed her irrational jealous thoughts from her mind as she checked her watch for at least the 20th time in the last 20 minutes. Why was it taking so long? Walter was supposed to go to Zalina's room, drug her drink, then she was supposed to pass out so he could clone her phone. In her head, it shouldn't have taken more than half an hour, remembering her own rendezvous with Yuri while cloning his cell.

Then she remembered Zalina's injured ankle. Maybe there had been paperwork to fill out? Maybe it had taken longer for them to get to the singer's room? Maybe he'd gotten lost on his way back to her room? There was another possibility, one she didn't even want to think about, let alone consider.

With a shake of her head, she tried to convince herself she was concerned over nothing. Walter would be knocking on her door any second now, triumphant and arrogant their scheme had worked without a hitch.

Another ten minutes later, as she continued to tromp down the carpet, a muffled noise out in the hallway caught her attention, bringing her to a halt. Was that Walter? She stepped toward the door, waiting for the sound of knuckles on wood. When it didn't come after several agonizing minutes, she peeked out of the peep hole. No one immediately came into view, but as she started to turn away, she caught a slight movement out of the corner of her left eye..

"Oh, God," she gasped as she flung the door wide open, "Walter." He sat on the floor with his back curled up against the wall, his head resting on his knees, violent tremors racking his body.

Getting down on the floor next to him, she extended her hand, placing it lightly on his shoulder as she softly spoke his name again. He flinched away from her touch with a guttural growl as he sprung to his feet. Slowly rising to hers, she took in his labored breathing, his disheveled appearance, and his inability to look her in the eye.

He reeked of Zalina's heavy perfume and vomit. His t-shirt was inside out and backwards, the printed-on label prominently display on his chest. Glancing downward, her stomach churned at the sight of his fly only zipped halfway up. Oh, dear God, what had happened? Letting the other woman undress him had definitely not been part of the plan.

"It's okay," she said with a calmness she didn't feel. "Come inside and it'll be okay. Please, Walter."

With a faint nod, he stepped into her room, cringing again when she closed the door behind her. He floundered around awkwardly, shying away from the pieces of furniture he encountered, finally coming to a stop by the bed.

"Walter, it's all right," she lied as she came closer, her anxiety increasing as he vehemently shook his head.

"No, n-no, it. . .it's n-not." He moved away from her, nearly sitting down on the bed before hopping back up as if it was on fire.

Oh, God, why was he afraid of sitting on a bed? The tiny trace of residual anger burning inside her was quickly doused as she stared at him. He nervously raked his hand through his hair before rubbing the back of his head. The collar of his shirt shifted, exposing a dark red splotch near the base of his throat. Oh God, was that a hickey? Oh, God.

"Walter." He didn't react as she stroked the sleeve of his flannel shirt. She didn't know if that was a good or a bad sign, if he was comfortable with her touch or if he'd retreated so far into his mind. . .

"P-Paige." He startled her, even though he spoke in a barely audible voice, his gaze still firmly aimed at his shoes. "I. . .I. . ."

Biting her lip, she let her eyes travel over him. He was an incoherent quaking mess. Whatever had happened. . .no matter what. . It had not been his fault.

Blinking back her own tears, she opened her arms and he fell into them. His hands slid around her waist, tentatively at first, then gripping her tighter as a sob tore its way through him. He burrowed his face into her shoulder, muffling his words. But she could still hear them, each one making her heart bleed for him.

"Paige. S-Sorry, so-sorry. I-I'm. . .I'm so-sorry."