A Chance Encounter Rae Shaw (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📖

of hell, one not even her father would recognise, certainly not her mother who preferred yoga. What brought Julianna to this moment had nothing to do with her upbringing, nor was it about photos stuck to parched leather; she struck the flailing stranger because she enjoyed giving some payback, even somebody else’s.

She pinned him to the floor by her straddling thighs, and he twisted beneath her, bucking with his hips. Her tempered fists were losing their impact, so she battered his head against the bottom bed post until he lost consciousness. Gasping for breath, Julianna shot the diminutive accomplice an angry glare and the woman bolted through the broken doorway. It was the fleeing woman’s terrified expression and Mark’s pleas, ‘You’re killing him,’ that successfully countered Julianna’s blows. She stopped, suddenly aware of her bloody knuckles, the soft unresponsive body underneath her knees, the morass of congealed features that once was an ugly face, now even more so. She slid off him onto the floor, leaving him prone, and shifted her attention to the bed.

Were they too late? Was Ellen sufficiently incapacitated she might need medical help? Mark touched Ellen’s cheek and the girl flinched.

‘It’s me, Ellie. You’re safe.’ Mark picked at the tape over her eyes, peeling it off.

Ellen blinked in the light. Her tears formed shallow pools that spilled over onto her alabaster cheeks.

‘Mark.’ Julianna staggered to the side of the bed. ‘We need to be quick. We’ve got an unconscious man, a broken door, and drugs to explain. Let’s get moving.’ The adrenaline high smothered the familiar pain in her unclenched fists. She would worry about the consequences later.

‘Sorry, luv, going to have to tear these off quickly.’ He ripped the duct tape away and Ellen winced.

‘Mark.’ She shook violently, and stirred from the nest of his arms, as if awakening from a bad dream. ‘I thought I’d come to the wrong place—’

Julianna, gently re-establishing some sense of normality, took Ellen’s elbow, and steadied her. ‘Can you walk?’

Ellen nodded. Julianna crouched by the man. She listened to his shallow breaths, observed, with unpleasant satisfaction, the bubbles of blood dribbling out of his swollen mouth and judged him thoroughly incapacitated. She had done this. She had never beaten a person unconscious; it was easier to do than she imagined. She rifled through the pockets of the man’s coat and retrieved Ellen's passport. They collected up the rest of her scattered belongings and stuffed them back into the suitcase.

Mark guided the wobbly Ellen down the stairs. Confused and disorientated, possibly concussed, she required support. Julianna wheeled the cumbersome luggage behind them. Other than a few doors opening then quickly shutting, nobody disturbed their retreat.

‘Did they inject you?’ Mark asked Ellen.

She rubbed her arm. ‘No. I don’t think so.’

‘That was quick.’ The skinny man on the reception desk grinned. Julianna strode past the counter. ‘Hey, what about my cut? You bitch!’

To her surprise, the taxi driver had waited. He waved, grinning briefly before realising something wasn’t right; Julianna pulled down the sleeve of the conveniently oversized jacket and hid her hands. Bundling Ellen into the back, Julianna gave a destination near the airport.

‘Right, I’ll avoid the Garda then, should I?’ He pressed his foot down without waiting for an answer. Wisely, he said nothing further for the rest of the journey.

‘We’re going to stay the night in a hotel, then fly back early tomorrow,’ Julianna said to Ellen. The company helicopter was scheduled to return at seven in the morning with or without them, after which they had to rely on commercial flights.

Ellen nestled in Mark's arm and he stroked her hair. While her pitted eyes were shut, his were watery and unfocused. His actions were mechanical and unlike the way he soothed Julianna. Naturally, physical affection toward his sister was different. But, still, she thought, he could try to offer Ellen the kind of comfort that came from the heart.

Julianna gave the driver a generous tip. He nodded, wryly. ‘Better place.’

The hotel was standard airport fare, no luxuries but functional and clean, and compared to the hostel, it was palatial in its plainness. They were assigned two adjoining rooms, one with a double, the other a twin – she and Mark would not sleep together. Ellen flopped onto the double and instantly fell asleep.

Still riding the high of the fist fight, Juliana ordered food via room service for her grumbling stomach. While Mark fretted about Ellen, there were other things to do and with a deep breath, she dialled a number on her mobile. As expected, Jackson was awake too.

‘We’ve got her. She seems to be in shock. I don’t think she’s been drugged.’ Julianna paused to listen to his instructions. ‘No, I don’t think she needs a doctor. She's asleep. I had to take somebody down. A couple had come for her. They spoke something Slavic.’ She glanced over to Mark. ‘She’s traumatised. Confused. Mark is obviously upset.’

‘He should be. Remember to bring her here.’ Jackson's distant voice crackled. If he was relieved, it was difficult to tell. She hoped he was. He had better be. She had nearly beat a man to death and needed her boss’s support. There was a mess to clean up.

‘Very good, sir. Tomorrow morning.’

She hung up.

‘What did he say?’ Mark asked.

‘That we should come back on the chopper and bring her to him. He’ll look after her. I mean, Opportunitas will.’ Jackson was adamant that Ellen and Mark needed to work out their own issues before resolving their fractured relationship.

Mark peered around the door into the other room and checked on his sleeping sister. Satisfied, he returned and dissected a sandwich; the only meal on offer at that time of night.

‘She didn’t ask who you were,’ he said.

‘She will in the morning. In the morning, she’ll want to know why we came. How