Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Luna

I was doing my best to not lose my shit, but the strain of acting ‘normal' when I wasn't even that on a good day, was taking its toll. Somewhere, either inside the packed gallery, or outside hiding behind one of the many trees or bushes lay someone waiting to corner me.

Ha! If I was lucky, they only wanted to corner me. My gut said they wanted way more than that. Despite finding out that it was an organization apparently backing the culprit, we suspected I was being pursued by one rogue player within the larger framework, using their high-powered resources for their personal gain.

Donna was blissfully unaware of the danger behind this outing as Graeme didn't want to ruin his blooming relationship with the tour guide by sharing the real reason she was attending the exclusive event. She was quite happy to film me doing all kinds of fun things with my feet in the beautiful heels. Being the same size, we also exchanged shoes for several videos and even I had to admit, being around her was making my evening more enjoyable.

Servers were constantly circulating through the crowds, offering glasses of champagne. I'd already indulged in a few and was beginning to feel the effects. It wasn't as good as what Artair had in his private collection, but it was still far superior to anything I'd tasted in my old life, as I'd started calling it. Pre-Scotland and Artair, I'd lived the life of a barely grown adult with all the typical angst of a college student, including being broke most of the time. My money earned from FeetingFans was for my education first. Any luxuries were secondary, but those had been very few and far between.

Being with Artair had shown me so much about what was possible and how the other half lived that school seemed mundane by comparison. My reasons for coming to Scotland in the first place had been to find myself, and a direction for my life. I had no specific career goals and had gone because it was a better option than getting a nine-to-five job in a restaurant.

So much was moving through my mind at a rate that was hard to keep up with. My entire trip, in fact, had been riddled with so many sensory experiences that sometimes I forgot where I'd come from, and why I'd come to Scotland in the first place. Then, I'd picture Stan Jarvis accosting me on the hill, and I'd be right back in the trauma of being assaulted in broad daylight in another country. Thoughts jumped and jumbled in my head. When he turned up in Scotland, I should have known it was my phone that was compromised. I felt stupid and reached up to rub my brow in an action of irritation.

"Don't worry, lass, all will be well."

How did I tell Artair this had nothing to do with the evening? I had my brain to blame as it played through multiple loops. More champagne! That would help slow down my overly charged brain. That or a spanking, but we weren't in the right place for that, though it didn't stop me from looking around, just to see.

"Nothing is wrong. I'm just looking for that server; I would like some more champagne please, it's delicious." I smiled earnestly up at him, admiring how he filled out his tux, while trying not to show any hints of the fight going on inside me.

"Whatever my princess wants."

He winked, relieving me of the added feelings of insecurity I felt from my request. Seriously, I was beginning to lose it, but after another glass, I began to settle and be less in my head, and more present to my surroundings.

Donna wanted to do another shoe exchange, so we excused ourselves and made our way toward the ladies' room. When Graeme followed us, Donna frowned at him. "Is there a reason why you're following us?" she asked him point blank.

I was grateful for his quick thinking when he replied, "You look so beautiful, Donna, I didn't want you being swept up by another man."

That worked, and she batted her eyelashes at him. "Since you put it that way." She slid her arm through his and happily accepted his escort. I fell a few steps behind, giving them privacy, and grabbing another glass of champagne, because if the last one had made everything better, what could another do?

Ignoring the feeling of being watched, I chugged back my drink and placed the empty glass on the tray, my companions none the wiser. The hair on the back of my neck rose. Turning, I looked around, but didn't see anyone looking back at me.

Now I understood what the extra glass did; it made me unnaturally paranoid. I shook my head and joined Donna in the restroom. We quickly exchanged shoes and took a quick video, this time with us both. I wasn't thinking, and I should have been. I didn't ask Donna for permission to post her feet in my account. She thought this was all about social media and doing a shout out to Choo of Scotland.

When we exited the bathroom, Graeme was standing just outside the door, tapping his foot impatiently. "What took you two so long?"

Donna looked about ready to say something rude, but instead she said, "A lady never tells," and with a flip of her hair, started her trek back to the main area. Graeme quickly followed behind her.

I was well on my way to being truly drunk and slowed my steps to grab another glass of champagne from a loitering server, stationed near the restroom. After all, I felt I owed it to Artair to take advantage of the alcohol, considering that what he'd paid for the tickets to attend was outrageous!

I drained the glass and as I lowered my arm to place it back on the tray, a hand landed on my forearm.

Startled, I looked up, gasping when I recognized the familiar and unwelcome face. "You!" I narrowed my eyes at Stan Jarvis. "What are you doing here?"

He wore an arrogant expression that completely changed him from the angsty college student that had confronted me, to something entirely different. At that moment, I knew it had been him all along.

"How? Why?" I couldn't seem to speak any coherent sentences. The room began to spin, and Stan tugged me in tight.

"I left Stan behind a long time ago, balletfeet08 . You have forced me to expose myself to being caught and you will pay for that."

My eyes were closed, and I was barely conscious. He must have drugged the glass of champagne. I was as weak as a kitten, but attempted to struggle. He just laughed and walked backward, tugging me along with him, no doubt making us appear like a couple looking for a private spot to kiss. But he didn't stop at the wall of washrooms and continued to tug me with him down a hall. As I was facing that direction, it was obvious he was headed for the back exit.

"Just tell me," I barely got out, "why?"

"Silly girl. Because I want you all to myself and when I'm done stuffing one of those lovely pink toe shoes in your tight little ass, you'll know who you really belong to. Not that pretentious Lord What's His Name in the other room."

"That's Lord McFarlane to you."

I managed to crank my head around to see Artair, Graeme, a shocked Donna, and a bunch of men holding guns. The undercover cops who'd been set up as guests, I gathered. I hadn't noticed a single one of them earlier, despite knowing they were here to capture the infamous Blacktop hacker.

I turned my head, facing down the hall, to see there were more men stationed there who must have come through from the back. Stan Jarvis had nowhere to run. The champagne and adrenaline had me feeling queasy and I knew I was moments away from throwing up. Unfortunately for Stan, he happened to be in my way and moments later was covered in my vomit.

Startled, he pushed me away. Artair scooped me up in his arms and headed out the front door, leaving all else behind, except for Donna and Graeme, who hustled after us, with his hand wrapped tightly around hers.

"What is going on?" I heard her ask.

"I'll tell you, but first we best get Luna to the hospital."

I floated away after that, happy to be safe and secure in Artair's arms once again.