Thank you so much for your kind reviews, keep them coming! I appreciate all feedback and suggestions.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot. And sadly, there's no money in the plot.
Rating: R for adult language and situations. Then there's the angst and the drama…read at your own risk.
Living on a Prayer
Chapter 5
I crept up to the door as quietly as possible and peeked through the spy hole. A man dressed in a white waiter's uniform looked back at me. He looked the part and was young enough to be a waiter.
"Room service." He said as he knocked again, and I shrunk back.
"I didn't order anything." I said, clicking the dead bolt shut.
"Standard welcome order for Suite 50110." He said. I asked him to wait a minute and went back into the room to find the phone. I dialed the front desk. They confirmed they'd sent someone up. I felt pretty smart for checking and pretty dumb for being paranoid as I opened the door and let the waiter in.
He passed me, pushing a serving cart. It held several covered dishes, some bottles of water and a wine cooler with an open bottle of champagne.
"Enjoy." He said and left, not even waiting for a tip.
Wow, I thought, Harry was living in style.
I pushed the cart over to the dining area that was located off the living room. For the first time since I'd arrived, I took in my surroundings. I'd noticed how big the suite was, but I hadn't noticed the details. The bedroom could be closed off with sliding doors that disappeared into the walls when opened so I hadn't even seen them before. The dining area was in an alcove off the living room. Through an arch, I could see a desk and an executive chair in an office. The walls were covered with gold textile wall paper and the theme continued with the gold fabric of the couches and dining chairs. The entire floor was covered in a tick plush carpet in a light brown color.
I'd never stayed anywhere near this luxurious ever before, everything just felt posh.
I took the covers off the plates, and my stomach rumbled in response. For the first time in days, I was hungry. There were fresh strawberries, cheese and crackers, caviar, finger sandwiches and cantaloupe wrapped in prosciutto. And mousse au chocolat. A small army could have been fed with the amount.
I filled a plate with a little bit of everything and grabbed a bottle of water before I sat down.
I was finishing a second helping when I got an idea. If food could be delivered without paying for it, how about the rest of the hotel's services? Could I go shopping in the boutiques? Could I get loaded at the bar? I was going on a mental shopping spree when I remembered what Harry'd said. I'd owe him for this. But I did need clothes and I didn't have much cash on me.
When I'd worked at RangeMan I'd been responsible for personal records. Anything and everything about a person. That included credit cards and bank accounts. As soon as I'd use my ATM, Ranger would be notified, and he'd know where to find me. Owing a mob boss a huge favor seemed like the lesser evil, I decided, and picked up the hotel directory.
A half hour later, I'd finished the mousse and grabbed my pocketbook. I took the elevator downstairs and headed straight to Marshall Rousso's. Since I needed everything, I started with underwear, then worked my way over to nightgowns. The store was too high end to sell jeans and t-shirts, so I picked a black cocktail dress, some brown slacks and two blouses off the rack and headed for the dressing room. The clerk eyed me the whole time, probably thinking I was going to stuff some items into my pants. I couldn't blame her, I looked a mess with my hair wild and my clothes grungy.
Shopping didn't turn out to be as much fun as I'd imagined, my heart wasn't in it. The only thing I wanted was sweats to lounge in. I picked out a pair of high-heeled pumps and a pair of brown loafers and went to the register. The amount the sales clerk told me made me light-headed, and I tried to keep a cool expression when I told her to charge it to the room. She relaxed visibly when she typed in the room number and even put a smile on her face as she offered to have my purchases sent up via bellhop and I agreed. On my way back, I picked up a couple t-shirts and a pair of sweat pants, hair and body essentials at the gift shop and went back upstairs. The one time in my life I could spend all I wanted, and I couldn't get excited about it. It just figured. When I didn't think about Joe, I had the stalker on my mind. I'd been constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid someone might recognize me.
By the time I reached the suite, everything had been brought up and was waiting for me in the living room.
It was only the middle of the afternoon, but I was exhausted. I felt like I deserved a break, so I grabbed some of my new purchases and headed for the bathroom. Bath parlor was a better word for it, the floor and walls were grey marble, the fixtures were gold-plated. A pile of plush white towels sat on the counter between two sinks and a fluffy robe hung on the door. A Jacuzzi filled up the right corner, overlooking the ocean. Since I was on the 50th floor, there was no danger of being watched while bathing. A shower stall sat in the left corner and the toilet was through another door. A huge basket with complimentary toiletries hid behind the stack of towels. It held everything I could ever need in the bathroom.
I opened the faucets to let water into the Jacuzzi and added the amenity bath salts before I adjusted the jets. While the water was filling up, I went back into the main room and grabbed the champagne and a glass. This was going to be total relaxation, I decided. My cell phone would stay behind.
I soaked for an hour. When I felt all clean, completely mellow, and the bottle was empty, I wrapped myself in the robe and went back to the bedroom. I slipped under the soft and fluffy covers and made myself comfortable.
The room wasn't quite spinning, but it was about to. I couldn't remember the last time I'd drunk a whole bottle of champagne. I was lucky if I wasn't going to be sick.
Just when I was about to fall asleep, my cell phone rang. I debated whether I should let it go to voicemail, but in case it was the killer, I needed to talk to him. I wasn't sure how long I could go undetected, so I needed to move things along quickly.
By the time I had untangled myself from the sheets and was able to grab the phone, I didn't have time to look at the readout, so I just answered it. If it was my mom, I would fake static; I didn't feel up to talking to her.
"Hello, Angel." The creep's voice greeted me. I felt like the temperature in the room had dropped twenty degrees and my stomach rolled. I focused my eyes on the ocean and sat down at the desk.
"Hello…what is your name?" What the hell, I thought, might as well try.
"You don't know? Oh Angel, you disappoint me."
He was so creepy. And how would I know his name if I didn't even recognize his voice? He must have known I didn't know who he was, that's what he was playing on.
"I don't think you told me." I said, trying very hard to keep my voice calm. My heart had started racing the moment I'd heard his voice.
"In that case, my angel, I'd much rather tell you in person. It will be so magical when you become mine."
Shivers ran up and down my spine as I listened to the lunatic's voice. Angel.
Joe'd always called me Cupcake. Ranger called me Babe. I called my nieces Angel and I realized I would never again. This creep had forever tainted the endearment for me. Who the fuck was this guy? I still didn't know if he'd done what he claimed, but as I listened to the madness in his voice, it was a definite possibility.
Another thing I realized was that I was in over my head. As much as I had wanted this, now that I was sitting all alone in the room with only his voice in my ear, I was terrified.
I needed to end this! I gathered up all my strength and although my hands were shaking, I willed my voice to remain calm.
"Then when am I gonna meet you?" It was the alcohol talking, I decided. The only reason I wasn't screaming at him was because I was drunk.
"Do you think you're ready, Angel?"
As ready as I'd ever be to meet Joe's killer or someone who pretended to be, I figured. Of course I wasn't ready! There was no telling what I'd do if I came face to face with him.
"Do you think I'm ready?" I asked. My mouth pretty much had a mind of its own now. I was baiting him. Probably the worst thing I could do, but I was desperate. I thought I could sense hesitation on the other end, as if I'd surprised him with my ballsy question.
"Yes," He finally said, "I think you are. We shall meet, my angel." And he disconnected.
I sat with the phone in my hand for the longest time, unable to move. I tried to name my emotions, but there were too many. Fear was right at the top, followed by panic maybe.
And I decided I just couldn't do it on my own. Now that it seemed I was going to get exactly what I'd wanted, it scared the shit out of me.
I took a deep breath and dialed Ranger. He would understand, I reasoned. He'd help me.
I groaned in frustration when I got Ranger's voicemail. The one time I called him!
My message was simple. "Call me." I said and hung up.
There, I thought. He'd call me back, I'd ask him to help me lure out the killer and all would be well. Ranger would be willing to work with me now that he'd seen what I can accomplish! I just hoped he'd call back soon before I lost the courage to ask him for help.
I changed out of the robe into a t-shirt and sweats and turned on the TV. I needed a distraction, my mind was racing. And when I closed my eyes, I felt like the world was spinning.
My cell phone was next to me on the couch, and I had no doubt I'd jump if it rang.
I zapped around the channels until I settled on ESPN. Joe and I had watched hours of ESPN and to me, the channel would forever be associated with him. Sadness settled over me as I imagined him sitting next to me, his long legs stretched under the coffee table, Bob by his side.
I remember watching the news and then I must have passed out, because I was startled awake when my cell phone vibrated. I turned off the TV and looked at the phone's readout.
It was my mom and I quickly switched it over to voicemail. I didn't know how I'd react if I talked to her. I was sure she was worried by now, since she hadn't heard from me in over a day. I'd explain it all later, I decided.
I sat up and immediately got dizzy. My stomach rolled and for a moment, I thought I'd be sick. Drinking all that champagne had felt like a good idea in the bath, now I regretted it. I got up and called room service for a pot of coffee, and then I finished off what was left on the food cart. I needed to sober up, and fast, since I had no idea how much time I'd have to get ready.
When the phone rang ten minutes later, I already felt better. I was still nervous as hell when I saw it was Ranger. I had a proposal for him and I was hoping I'd deliver it right.
"Hey." I said.
"You okay?" Ranger asked. Apparently, he had rethought his strategy, too. He sounded concerned, not mad. I was glad I'd changed my mind.
"I'm okay. Only I need help."
"No kiddin'." Ranger said and I could sense his smile over the phone. I rolled my eyes even though he couldn't see it.
"But I'm not going into hiding."
"Babe."
I took a deep breath and tucked my legs under me as I sat down on the couch.
"He's going to contact me to meet." I said. Ranger was silent. Probably doing his version of counting to ten.
"I want to meet him. I'll need backup."
"Bad idea, Babe." Ranger said calmly. I'd expected as much, so I did some mental knuckle cracking.
"I need to do this," I said, "You will never find him unless I lure him out." This was the truth, and Ranger knew it.
"How do you want to do this?" Ranger asked. I smiled. No matter what his decision would be, he'd hear me out first. He was always willing to give me a chance. I'd have to make the best of it; I couldn't do this on my own. But if I told him that, he'd do his rescue thing and would make sure I wouldn't come near harm's way.
"The last time he called, he agreed to meet me. Next time, I will tell him when and where."
"You didn't keep him on the phone long enough for us to track him." Ranger said. I wasn't surprised they still traced my phone calls.
"I couldn't. He decides when the conversation is over." Probably he knew I was trying to find him. He may be mad, but he was also smart.
"What if he tells you where to meet him?"
"Either way. I will go meet him and you will be in the wind." I made myself wait for his answer; probably he needed time to think about it.
"Where are you?"
"I'll be back in Trenton tomorrow," I said, avoiding the question. "It needs to look as if I'm still on my own."
The stalker seemed to know my every move while I was in Trenton. I needed him to believe I was alone and vulnerable. Of course, right now I was both. I tried not to think about that as I took a deep breath.
"Are you gonna help me?" I asked. I knew it was an unfair question because there was really only one answer Ranger could give truthfully.
"You will wear a wire and a GPS locator?"
"Yes."
I thought I could hear Ranger sigh, but it may have been static. "Okay." He finally said.
"I'll call you when I get back." I said and disconnected. I knew that Ranger would take the chance to get to me first if he'd be able to track my location. Probably he hadn't given up on the idea to get me into a safe house. I also wondered why it had taken him so long to call me back, that was unlike him. Not that it really mattered any more.
"There." I said to the empty room. It felt strange to be talking to myself. I missed Bob, and I missed Rex. The suite felt too empty without their companionship.
Now all I could do was wait. Nothing would happen until the killer called again.
I contemplated getting dressed and going downstairs, but then I remembered how little I'd enjoyed shopping. I really didn't feel like mingling. It was almost 7 PM, so I decided to just make it an early night. I was already cleaned up; I only had to change into my new red lacey nightgown. It wasn't as comfortable as my flannel PJ's, but Marshall's didn't sell comfortable when it came to nightgowns.
I turned off all the lights and snuggled under the covers. I left the curtains open so I could watch the ocean in the moonlight. I didn't set the alarm since I figured I'd be up early anyway. I'd been riding on an adrenaline high ever since the first call, now it was subsiding and I felt the alcohol resurfacing, making it easy to fall asleep for a change.
It was still dark outside when I woke up. The alarm clock told me it was three AM. That's what I got for going to bed at seven, I realized. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth and my stomach felt squishy. I had the beginnings of a headache. I tried to just turn around and fall back asleep, but it didn't work. I gave up after thrashing around for a half hour.
I threw back the covers and stretched. My head felt like tiny little men with hammers were going to work in it and I was terribly thirsty.
There was water on the food cart, but I knew that wasn't what I needed. I needed the cure, McDonald's fries and Coke, or else I'd be miserable all day. And this was not a day I could afford to be miserable.
I was hoping the McDonald's on the boardwalk was open 24 hours as I turned on the bedside lamp and got dressed. My t-shirt and windbreaker were advertising the Taj Mahal, but I didn't care. I didn't feel like dressing up.
The 50th floor was deserted, and the elevator was empty, but when I got downstairs, nightlife at the casino was still in full swing. People were gambling, laughing and screaming, drinking and kissing. I felt completely out of place, since everyone seemed to be having a good time.
I hurried though the casino and the hotel lobby and made my way to the boardwalk.
The cool night air felt good, and there were less people out here. The street vendors had long left and the stores were closed.
I dug my hands in the windbreaker's pockets and walked the two blocks to the golden arches. They were open 24 hours, thank God! They probably got all kinds of orders; the girl behind the counter didn't bat an eye when I placed mine. When I had my fries and Coke in hand, I sat down at a corner table. Halfway through the fries, my head felt better. Once I'd finished the coke, my stomach settled down.
Now I felt better, but it was still technically the middle of the night. I walked back the way I'd come, but this time, I stopped in the casino. I suddenly didn't feel like going back to my empty room. The tables and slot machines didn't interest me, I wasn't much of a gambler, but I wandered over to a bar off to the side. It was in a fairly quiet part of the casino, and not many people were sitting and drinking at this hour. The bar was decorated in black and red, with intimate little oil lamps on each of the tables. Maybe if I did the hair of the dog thing, I'd be able to fall back asleep.
My hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and I wasn't wearing any makeup. I'd never be caught dead even leaving the house like this in Trenton, yet I didn't care.
The bartender sauntered over to me and gave me a smile. Probably he smiled at all single girls in the place, since I really wasn't anything to look at.
"What'll it be?" He asked. I put him in his late thirties, about my height. He had brown hair and friendly blue eyes. He looked like the kind of guy a lot of customers confided in. His name tag identified him as Bill. I was about to give him my order when we were interrupted.
"The lady looks like she'd enjoy a Cosmopolitan." A man with a New York accent said behind me and I turned around curious.
A tall lanky guy stood behind me, winking. He looked about 40, with sandy blond hair and brown eyes. Good looking in a guy next door kind of way, except he was taller than average, maybe 6'4". I tried to match his voice with the stalker's but they weren't even remotely similar.
I hesitated for a moment, and he must have taken that as an invitation because he sat down on the stool next to me. Oh great, just what I needed. I did a mental eye roll. The right thing to do was to tell him I wasn't up for company and that he should go to hell.
What I did instead was pick up the drink the bartender put in front of me and toast the stranger.
"Thank you." I said politely and he smiled. I took a sip from the Cosmopolitan and grimaced. Definitely not the right idea. I should have gone with Coke.
"I'm Jeff." He said, holding out his hand. "Stephanie." I replied and shook his hand.
"So, Stephanie, what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this at this hour?" Ugh, gag me with a spoon. Was there an older pick up line? This time I actually rolled my eyes and Jeff laughed.
"I'm sorry, that must have sounded like a line," He said. No kidding. Maybe he was just nervous. Any other time, I may have given him another chance, but I really didn't want to meet anyone. He'd picked the wrong girl, probably because I was the only single one around at this hour.
I smiled and excused myself, telling him I'd be right back. As soon as I rounded the corner, I headed towards the tower and its elevators. What had I been thinking anyway?
I was out of breath when I reached the suite; I'd been running down the hallway from the elevators. Good thing I didn't pay for that drink, I thought.
I set the alarm for seven, stripped and went back to bed, determined to give sleep another try, when my cell phone rang.
It was 4:30 AM. The only reason someone would call me at this hour was an emergency, so I grunted and got up again. My phone was still on the couch and I snagged it up without checking the readout.
"You shouldn't be flirting with other men, Angel." The stalker said when I answered.
My blood ran cold and I had to sit down on the couch so I wouldn't faint from dizziness. He was here!! He was watching me!!
"I wasn't." I said truthfully, my voice a little too shaky to sound neutral.
"And you definitely shouldn't be lying to me, Angel." His voice sounded angry now. I broke out in a cold sweat. This guy was so creepy! He was completely delusional! And I was all by myself, maybe only a door away from this lunatic. Had he been following me down the boardwalk? I'd felt safe and hadn't even checked for anyone suspicious, not that I usually did.
"I'm sorry," I said, talking to him like I would to a child, "I didn't mean to upset you." It was the only thing I could think of; I had no idea how to handle the situation. What would make him not want to attack me?
"Apology accepted." He said after a moment's pause. I couldn't think of a response to that because my mind was already a step ahead. I needed to call Ranger right away, tell him the plan had changed.
"Now get some sleep, Angel, I can tell you're tired. And you want to be rested and pretty for tomorrow."
I was still holding the phone to my ear minutes after I'd heard the disconnect, I was frozen in place. How did I ever think I could do this by myself? All he had to do was talk and I was freaked out!
There was no way I could have gone back to sleep. My heart was beating at about triple its normal speed, I was shaking and sweating and my head had started pounding again.
As much as I wanted to call Ranger right away, I made my self wait for a halfway decent hour. There was really no need both of us should lose a night's sleep. If a crazy guy wanted to snag me in the next thirty minutes, there was noting anybody could do to help. That was my reward for leaving my home turf, I thought smacking myself mentally.
I got some Advil from my purse and set out for the bathroom. On my way, I double-checked the dead bolt on the door and turned on all the lights.
I stood under the hot spray for a long time, trying to calm my nerves. I kept hearing his earlier words 'We shall meet, my angel' and shuddered involuntarily. Next time the guy called, I had to ask him for a meeting, maybe pretend I didn't want to wait any longer. It was what I wanted most and what I wanted least at the same time.
But I couldn't continue with the teasing phone calls, it would drive me insane. As it was, I kept looking over my shoulder even though I was alone in the room, and I had all the lights blazing.
I let my body relax as much as possible until my fingers were all pruney, then I wrapped myself in one of the fluffy bath towels and took my time grooming and lotioning.
The bathroom felt secure with the steam billowing around me and the warmth and softness of the towel. I started fantasizing about what it would be like to live in a bathroom, but then I realized I was trying to come up with things to ponder other than the impending meeting and I ordered myself to stop. Denial and escapism wouldn't help me this time, I needed to stay focused.
By the time I got back to the bedroom, it was 6:30 and the sun was rising. It was a beautiful sight, so I took a time out and watched the display of colors over the water. There was something very calming about it.
I called room service for breakfast and coffee and went into the bathroom to do the hair and make-up thing. Since it was past seven now, I thought it was a perfect time to call Ranger.
It rang so many times that I thought the call was going to go to voicemail when Ranger picked up.
"Did I wake you?" I asked, although I didn't think it was possible for Ranger to sleep past sunrise.
He chuckled as if I'd made a joke. "No, just got out of the shower."
For some reason my mind brought up the image of Ranger clad in a towel low on his hips, his hair tousled from the shower, droplets of water still on his chest. I shook my head to clear it; I was way too eager to accept any distraction.
"There's a slight change of plans…" I started, not quite sure how to tell Ranger of the latest developments. "He sort of knows where I am…"
"You care to explain the sort of part?" Ranger asked, his voice calm. I took a deep breath.
"He's here, Ranger. I went out last night and he called me right after I got back." I figured there was no need to tell Ranger this had been at 4 in the morning.
"Babe, where are you?"
I sighed and sat down on the couch. "Atlantic City. Taj Mahal. Room 50110."
"Nice touch. I'm leaving now. Do you have your gun?"
"You know I don't." I was pretty sure he had discovered it on my kitchen counter after I'd run out on him.
"Are you in your room now?"
"Yes."
"Stay where you are. I'll be there as fast as possible."
"Remember to get dressed first." I said when I thought he'd disconnected. I heard the click a second later, so it was possible he'd heard me. Probably he'd fly here, thinking I'd lost it already.
I put the phone down and sighed.
Probably at some point Ranger would point out that he'd told me so, and he had. But I'd done what I thought was right, even though I had to admit I wasn't in a condition to make sound choices. At any rate, this was not the time to be beating myself up or wallow in self pity.
When I heard the knock on the door I straightened my shoulders and got up. I needed coffee in the worst way.
"Hello, Angel." He said when I opened the door. I'd forgotten to check who it was!
My jaw dropped in the split-second I was staring at him. While on the phone with him, I'd try to imagine what he looked like.
I hadn't even come close. He was about my age, of average build, maybe 5'5" with mousey-brown hair and hazel eyes. Even if I had met him before, I would have forgotten him right away, he had no remarkable features.
When my brain was connected to my body again, I hurled my whole weight against the door, but I was too late, he'd already put his foot in and stopped it.
I panicked and ran for the bathroom.
I locked the door just before he slammed against it. Probably it wouldn't hold him for long, but it had been my only escape.
My phone was still in the living room, but who would I have called anyway? Ranger would get here as soon as he could. I just had to hold out for…a couple hours.
I searched the room for anything weapon like, since there was no phone in the bathroom. The suite wasn't that perfect after all.
But I had hairspray, and I was an expert at wielding a spray can. Then there was the hair dryer, if I could come close enough, I could do some damage with it.
I jumped when crazy guy banged on the door.
"Stephanieeeee? You're not being very nice to me." He banged on the door some more. The way he sing-songed my name reminded me way too much of my first crazy stalker, Ramirez, and I got goose bumps at the memory.
"Angel, open the door." He said, the 'or else' clearly implied. I took a step back, turned around and armed myself with the hairspray. My hand was shaking so hard, I almost dropped it.
He was trying the door knob now.
"Angel? I've waited so long for this. Open the door." He now sounded like a normal guy. Somehow the way he could change his voice made him even creepier.
I couldn't hear him moving around, maybe because my blood was rushing in my ears to loudly. I tried to slow my breathing because I was afraid I'd pass out at any moment.
"Okay, one last time, Stephanie. Open. This. Door."
Shit. I was too panicked to form a coherent thought, much less a plan. I knew that if I'd scream, no one would hear me.
"What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice like a whimper.
"I want to meet you properly, like you asked."
Without a warning, the door burst open. I'd been standing too close and it hit me square in the head. As I was seeing stars, I prayed I wouldn't pass out. I hit the spray can with all I had as the world went black around me.