Forty Degrees Below

Chapter 14

Jake felt nothing, empty, hollow, spent. He looked down into the precipice below, tilted his head back, and took a deep breath. Spreading his arms, in symbolic reflection, he fell forward, surrendering, free as a bird, unleashed, unrestrained, feeling the rush of air, fell further and further into the unknown, into the abyss below. 

He woke bolt upright in bed, panting; beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, shaking in the cold, dark of the night. For a few moments, he sat adjusting, comprehending the unfamiliarity room. He'd no recollection of how he'd arrived there. He looked down by his side expecting to see the reassuring rhythmic rise and fall of the comforter as Mercedes lay deep in sleep beside him but then realised they were remnants of dreams.

It was still dark outside. He heard the distant sound of a ship's horn echoing out at sea. If he needed reassurance, he was not in Missouri this was it. Mercedes was the only bright light at that moment in an otherwise dark period. 

He didn't even have to ask twice, she just came out and said, "take as long as you like. Don't worry about being back tonight; I'm sure Liz will keep me entertained. Just do whatever you feel needs to get done to complete your project, I'll be here for you when it's all finally over." She so understands these days; he didn't know what he'd do without her. It freed him to focus on the job in hand, persuading Curtis to do the article, at least, that was what he hoped unless Anya gets her claws in any deeper.

He climbed out of bed, threw a robe on, and made his way, quietly down to the kitchen. He didn't bother with the lights as the moon was bright, casting an eerie glow about the house. Whatever, he'd been dreaming must have been physically active because he'd worked up an appetite. He opened the fridge door, and it cast a warm glow across the room. He saw something move in the corner, and shocked, realised it was Anya, huddled over a mug.

"Its a little late to be up," he said, "or have you been 'pounding' him into submission?"

"You know," she said sleepily. "I'm beginning to dislike you. It's a good job we'll be shot of you before long."

"Yeah, well that might not happen anytime soon, so don't count on it. Anyway, Mercedes said that I could stay for as long as I needed. So I wouldn't count your chickens before they hatch."

"She did?! I mean, she did?" replied Anya feigning surprise.

"Yes..." growing suspicious, "you don't happen to know something I don't, do you?"

"No... no, just tired. Not thinking straight."

"Hmm, okay," letting it pass. "Well, it still doesn't alter anything. You're stuck with me, so you may as well get used to it. Anyway," he said thinking on, "what fascinates me is that you've not made a move to turn me out of your house which could be construed in several ways."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Oh yes, and what's that?"

"Well, I was thinking that either having me here serves some purpose to your covert plans, or you know that your authority carries little weight, so in making demands you might run the risk of incurring Curtis's displeasure which would have severe consequences for your scheme to heist the crown jewels."

"Crown jewels?!"

"Money, to you and me. 

My wager," he continued, "is in the second scenario, that you need to keep Curtis sweet at whatever the cost, am I right?"

She avoided eye contact. "You think you're so smart, don't you?" she retorted. "Sitting there, pontificating. It's all a game to you, isn't it? Immersing yourself in the Ouija board of life, while trying to influence the movement of the upturned glass. Well, I don't call playing with other people's lives a game, do you?"

"I'm sorry, I'm confused here. I thought it was you who was trying to disrupt and corrupt the outcome?" He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand, feigning stupidity, "derr, how could I be so wrong? Let me see if I've got this straight, your deceptions, your lies, going behind his back, suppressing the article, taking the money and running, was all was my fault?! How dumb could I be? Of course, it's so obvious!" He replied with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

"Your right," she replied.

"Pardon me?"

"I said your right!"

He was lost for words. "What...that I'm stupid?"

"No...! Well, you could be, but I agree that I've got ulterior motives, plus you haven't considered the third option."

He didn't like where this was going. "And what's that?"

She looked at Jake, and he meant, looked at him. It wasn't defensive, or a condescending, or belligerent look, she just ... stared with eyelids half closed as if in some trance. At that moment, the moon disappeared behind a cloud, and the room went dark. He heard the scrape of chair legs from across the tiled floor on the other side of the table. He panicked, and stood sending his stool crashing to the ground. He fumbled for the light switch, temporarily blinding them both in the process. She was halfway around the table, caught like a rabbit in the headlights of a car. She froze.

"I can't do this," he stuttered. 

"You haven't heard what the third option is," she said with a seductive look.

"Oh, I can guess."

"You can?"

"I think so, I don't know, I'm not sure," he replied panic stricken.

She continued to advance with this sultry look in her eyes.

"I'm not sure we should be doing this," he murmured, unconvincingly. It was his turn to freeze like a rabbit. A million and one thoughts went crashing through his mind like proverbial waves upon a shore. Thoughts of Anya undressed, Mercedes packing her bags, Curtis ordering him away, lost opportunities, Bilderberg, suppression, anonymity, destitution, poverty.

"You said we."

Jake shook his head. "I said what?"

She continued moving forward, more slowly. "You used the expression 'we shouldn't be doing this,' implying you feel the same. Why not?"

"I don't know ... a thousand reasons!" She was within touching distance; he needed ... he had to, pull away, but part of him was tempted, entranced with what lay on the other side.

"This tension we feel, this frustration, can only go one way you do know that, don't you?" she said stepping up to him, looking into his eyes with that same provocative, luring look.

Jake placed his hands on her shoulders and stepped back. He could smell her perfume, hear her breathe, feel her flesh through the material of her nightdress. "Yes... I mean, no. I mean, I'm really sorry..." Letting go, he moved hurriedly away, leaving the kitchen, not daring to look back and retreating to his bedroom, and locked the door.