Love, Lies & Lizard Babies by Poor Queequeg
Chapter Five
They rode in silence through town back to her hotel. Lulled by the sound of the rain on the roof of the car, Helen couldn't help closing her eyes.
"Hey, no sleeping missy," he said in a cheerful tone that belied his anxiety. Helen smiled at him meekly.
"You've been watching too many hospital dramas, I'm alright." He gave her a cynical look and she quirked a brow at him, coughing and sitting upright. "Fine, I'm awake see?" she told him tiredly.
Outside the hotel Jason eyed the valet suspiciously and Helen raised an elegant brow at him over the roof of the car. He swallowed and handed the keys over, walking around to heave the bag over his shoulder and wrap his arm around her waist in a firm grip. Helen didn't protest as he guided her inside the door, merely pulled her shades out of her pocket and slipped them onto her face to obscure the angry red mark on her cheek. Jason looked down his nose at her as they approached the desk.
"Sure that doesn't make us just look even more shady," he told her with a slight scowl but she shushed him and smiled painfully at the receptionist as they picked up the key.
It occurred to Helen that she really didn't need to be leaning on him as they rode the elevator but she wasn't exactly uncomfortable tucked under his arm either so she said nothing. Inside her suite, she dropped her jacket on the back of the couch and Jason looked about, shifting on his feet uncomfortably for a second before setting the bag down on the floor inside the door and heading to the fridge. Helen walked to the desk and set her phone down on it, pulled her Sig from her waistband and flicked the net curtain to one side to look at the angry sky. It was a swirl of grey and purple as the late summer sun set behind the storm clouds. Helen leant across to open the window and the hush of rain filled the room.
Jason filled a wine cooler with as much as he could find and pushed up on his knees. "You have a towel or something," he asked, looking her in the eye. Helen nodded mutely and went into the bathroom, coming back with a towel and a pack of painkillers.
Jason sat down on the couch across from her and began to fill the centre of the towel with the ice, setting the bucket on the table before them before turning back to her. Helen crunched on paracetamol as he raised the towel to the side of her face. "Here," he said softly. "This should help some." Helen swallowed the chalky mush in her mouth, smacking her lips and twisted her hair around in her hand to hold it up away from the side of her face.
"Thank you," she said with a quiet smile, looking at him.
"You're welcome," he replied, his face very close. "How's the bump?"
She pressed a finger against the crown of her head and squinted a little. "It's ok, there's no blood. I've had worse believe me." He chuffed.
"So much for your bluster. Thought you could take care of yourself." Helen narrowed her eyes at him.
"I can," she told him in a sour tone, bristling at the insinuation.
"Yeah, well he sure got the drop on you," Jason told her, eyebrows raised.
"I managed to take you down," she retorted but the venom she intended melted away as his fingers traced a gentle path across her jaw.
"Yes you did," he answered softly and she found herself thinking that he was really rather handsome after all. He stared into her eyes and the room was silent. A clap of thunder rolled in the distance and her gaze flicked to his mouth. "Ahem," he coughed. "So now what?"
"Um," she began. "I guess we try to find this Worrall."
"Huh, I'm sure he's long gone by now," he replied, shifting the towel against her cheek.
"We still haven't found Chris, we have to try." He nodded.
"I guess we could go back to the bar," he suggested. Helen looked sceptical.
.
"You really think he'd go back there?"
"Well we've got nothing else to go on, maybe Joe knows something."
"Hmm, I think Joe might be less reliable than you think." Jason looked puzzled, "O'Shea knew we were coming. Someone must have told him."
Jason shook his head. "That makes no sense. If Joe was in with O'Shea why would he tell us about Tattoos in the first place." Helen pursed her lips.
"Oh, I don't know," she said shaking her head. "Even if we do catch up with this Worrall, who's to say he'd have any idea where to find your brother anyway."
Helen pressed her lips together and his eyes flicked down to her lips as she chewed on them thoughtfully. "Hmm,Worrall" she chuffed, staring over his shoulder. "It's Arabic for lizard," she told him.
"That freaky guy from before?" he said, drawing his chin back slightly. "You're saying he's a...lizard man?" She smiled at his astonished look and let out a chuckle. He turned and looked through the window.
"I know it must seem strange to you, all this. I..." she trailed off. Jason turned back to look at her, his expression unreadable.
"This is what you meant then. When you said before about...abnormals, or whatever you called them."
"That's right." He pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully before he continued.
"What about Chris? He ain't a lizard man," he said in a gentle tone.
"No," she said, blinking slowly. "He's human. He's just...sensitive."
"Hmm he is," Jason agreed, pulling the towel from her cheek and laying it across his lap to rearrange the cubes of ice. "That's why I know that scumbag O'Shea was lying. Chrissy never lost at cards." She dropped her hand from where it held her hair up behind her head. Jason turned back to her with the towel but she gripped his wrist lightly.
"It's alright now, thanks." Jason nodded and dumped the towel into the wine cooler on the table. Helen thought he seemed a little disappointed as he leaned back against the sofa, his long legs bumping the edge of the table. She turned and did the same, squinting a little as the back of her head pressed against the cushions.
"So..." he began, lacing his fingers together and waggling his thumbs. She didn't reply for a minute, the only sound the rain outside the window and she felt her eyes slipping shut of their own accord. "I guess we should move. If you're up to it, that is."
Her eyes flew open. "Of course," she answered tersely and stood up abruptly. "I'm just going to change into something a little more appropriate for the evening." He tilted his head around on the back of the sofa and watched her back as she walked into the bedroom.
Two minutes later she returned and tugged her coat out from under the back of his head. Jason sat up and saw that she had changed into a long sleeve black top that ruffled rather appealingly across her chest. Helen pulled her coat on and flicked her hair out from under the collar. "Ready?" she asked with a quirk of her brow and he couldn't help the smile spread across his face.
She gave him her other handgun to use. The bag got in the way and it wouldn't be seemly to walk the streets carrying a shotgun. Jason chuckled at her odd expression and she shook her head in confusion.
"It's just cute, that's all," he explained as they rode the elevator. "The way you talk." Helen Magnus didn't blush - she was merely a little red from having been slapped in the face.
The Beer Engine was crowded that evening in spite of the rain and Helen was glad. It wasn't such a huge place that he would be impossible to spot Worrall if he did show up and it would be easier to hide among the extra bodies. Jason was less thrilled because it meant Helen kept pressing up against him and while that in itself was not unpleasant, it was making it difficult to stay focused.
Loud, grinding rock music pumped from the speakers as they approached the bar and Jason stood behind her as some other patrons squeezed past behind him. Helen's hair pressed against his mouth so that he could smell her shampoo and when she leant forward to shout in the ear of the bartender her ass pressed against his groin. He closed his eyes and let out a small puff of breath as he reached up to detach a few strands of her hair that caught in the fuzz of his goatee. He considered that it wouldn't normally be a bad way to spend an evening but he suppressed the thought and turned his head to scan the room. There was no sign of lizard guy or Joe in the mass of faces.
The bartender returned with two glasses of coke and Helen turned to him with a straw between her lips as she drank. He reached out and pinned the other drink to the bar to stop it spilling as her elbow brushed the glass. Jason leaned down towards her as she crooked her neck to shout at him, her warm breath tickling his ear.
"..says...is working...bar tonight."
"Huh?" he shouted back, turning his face so that his nose brushed her temple. Helen repeated herself but he couldn't make it out a second time either. She turned to look at him, her face very close.
"Downstairs," she mouthed and he nodded, unable to stop his gaze from lingering on her lips as she sucked on the straw again. Helen stood close in the circle of his arms holding her glass in one hand and clasping the straw between her fingers with the other. She turned from side to side, swaying slightly and looking over the room. Swallowing, he reached for his glass and took a long drink. His nose wrinkled slightly when he tasted it. Of course she would drink diet wouldn't she?
Helen looped her fingers around his wrist so that they could more easily stay together as they squeezed through the crowd. Someone jerked against her elbow as they passed causing her hand to slip down his wrist and Jason clutched her fingers between his own so as not to lose her. They moved across the floor to the corridor that lead out the back and to the bathrooms. An unvarnished wood door covered the entrance to the stairs down to the basement bar. Jason pulled her through and the music was muffled as the door swung shut behind them. He took a step down when she tugged against on his arm.
"Maybe one of us should stay up here, in case Worrall comes in?" she said, still holding his hand.
"But Joe is downstairs. He's still our best bet, don't you think?" Jason answered looking her straight in the eye as he stood on the staircase slightly below her. She twitched her nose adorably as she considered it.
"Well, what if he does have something to do with it? Won't he just run off as soon as he sees us?"
Jason hitched a shoulder. "Then surely it's better we're both there. If he runs, I won't have time to come back up here to get you."
"You'll just have to call me." Helen pulled her phone from her pocket. "What's your number?" Jason exhaled through his nose and dug in his pants when she spoke again. "Oh, there's no signal in here anyway."
"You're over-thinking things," he said, irritated and turned to take another step down, pulling her with him.
"Hardly," she groused, trotting behind.
At the bottom of the stairs there was another unvarnished door and more muffled music. To the right there was a short corridor lined with peeling wallpaper and a grubby stone floor with another door at the end of it. They moved down it a way to dodge the door as it swung open, a blast of music filling the narrow space. Jason put his hand out to catch it and had taken a step forward when the door at the other end of the corridor swung open, smacking loudly into the wall behind. Helen turned at the sound of clanking bottles and saw a man backing out. He turned and met her eyes. It was Joe, a crate of beer in his arms and he froze for a second before he started back up into the room. Helen jerked on Jason's hand as the door swung shut again.
She dashed forward and hooked her finger in the hole where the handle should have been, tugging it open. Joe dropped the case of beer and turned tail, dashing towards the back of the room and grabbing onto a painted metal bannister.
"Hey!" she yelled and Jason barged past at a sprint after him. Joe managed to climb a couple of steps before Jason caught up with him and grabbed his ankle. Joe slammed against the metal steps with a loud clang that made Helen's ears hurt.
"No, please," he begged as Jay pulled him downwards and flipped him over. He raised his arms defensively over his face. "Don't hurt me." Jason grabbed at Joe's forearms and yanked them away from his face.
"Hey calm down," he tried to explain but Joe flailed in terror, trying to get free.
"Why did you run?" Helen asked stepping out from behind a stack of beer crates. Joe looked at her with wild eyes.
"I heard what you did to Danny O'Shea," he squealed and Helen looked over at Jason. He quirked his lips and dipped his head to one side. Joe tried to wriggled beneath him trying to break free.
"Jesus, Joe I'm not gonna hurt you," he said releasing Joe's arms. Joe coiled them back against his body and swallowed hard.
"That man, Worrall, where is he?" Helen asked with a jerk of her chin.
"Um, I don't...I don't know." Jason leaned a little closer and Joe flinched. "Ah...but..but...he'll be around, I'm sure. He can't pass up business on night like this."
"Business?" Helen queried and Joe nodded.
"What, drugs?" Jason asked.
"No, I don't know. Weird shit. You know we get a lot of freaks come in here." Joe sucked on his lower lip and sniffed. Helen touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth.
"He deals in here and you let him?" Helen asked, her face screwing up in disgust. Joe pursed his lips and shook his head.
"No, he drinks in here, meets people here but it all goes down out the back." He jerked his head up towards a set of black metal doors in the ceiling.
Jason ran his tongue across his teeth and glanced at Helen for a moment before dropping his gaze back to Joe. "You got his number?"