Marx Girl

“There… there he is,” I stammer in excitement. The driver pulls over and Ben runs across the road to jump into the backseat. He smiles and grabs my hand. “Can you take us to the Lombardy on 56th, please?” he asks the driver.

“Sure thing.”

I smile nervously at him, and moments later we pull into a driveway of a swanky hotel, and then make our way into reception. I stand beside Ben like a child, unsure what to say or do.

“I would like a suite for seven days, please,” he says to the girl on concierge, calmly.

“Of course.” She smiles warmly as she looks him up and down. Yeah, I’m right here, bitch. I look at her flatly. He’s married, you know.

A satisfied smile crosses my face. He’s married to me.

So, this is technically my honeymoon.

I look around the luxury hotel and then glance down at myself. I look a mess and I must smell like sex. I haven’t even showered today. I drag my hand through my ratty hair, suddenly self-conscious.

“I would like an adjoining single room, too, please… for my children,” he says calmly. “They will be joining us later tonight, with their nanny.”

I glance up at Ben as he acts cool, calm, and collected. Some fucking honeymoon. Two rooms, fake children, real-life strangling of new husband by crazed new wife. This is just dandy.

“Credit card, please.” She smiles.

Ben slides a credit card over and I glance at the name on it. It’s the Jake Martin one he had. “I would like to pay in full now, please. Cash okay?” He takes out his wallet.

A frown crosses her face before she recovers. “Of course, Mr. Taylor.” She types in the computer. “That will be three-thousand-six-hundred dollars.”

He counts it out and hands her the cash.

She shuffles through to check it. “I’m going to give you an upgrade to a two-bedroom suite.” She smiles.

Ben nods. “Thank you.”

I watch her work in silence. We get the keys, and minutes later we are walking up the hallway towards our room on the sixth floor. I would like to say that I notice my surroundings, but over the sound of the pounding of my poor heart, my brain can’t take in any more information. It’s luxurious, I can say that much.

He opens the door and holds his hand out for me to take, but I walk past him and into the room.

I’m annoyed. No, scratch that. I’m furious.

I fold my arms angrily in front of me, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t,” he snaps.

My eyes bulge from their sockets. “Don’t?” I hiss in return. “Oh, I do,” I sneer. “Why the hell did you go to that security box and get those documents?” I throw my up hands in despair. “This was none of our business, Ben.” I begin to pace back and forth as he puts the suitcases up to the rack and opens them.

“This was my business. Something is going on and I need to get to the bottom of it.”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” I spit. “You have two deranged fucking hit- men coming after you… and, technically, me, too, now, because they think we know what the information on that sheet means.”

He clenches his jaw in anger as his eyes hold mine.

“We can’t read the fucking sheet, Ben!” I hold my temples as I begin to pace again.

“Calm down,” he groans.

“I will not calm down. We have no idea what is going on, other than the fact that they wanted you dead and that they killed Jason Steele and his wife last night. Whatever is on that sheet is very fucking important. You need to call the police right now and tell them everything.”

He rolls his eyes and walks into the bathroom. I storm in after him. He unzips his jeans and begins to take a pee.

“Call… call the police,” I stammer as I point to the phone.

“Do you mind?” he says dryly, gesturing down to his dick with his chin. “I’m hanging a piss.”

My eyes bulge from their sockets. “For fuck’s sake, Ben. I’m going to hang you from the fucking shower. Will you listen to me?”

“Bridget, you listen to me.” He finishes, zips up his pants, and washes his hands before he walks back out into the room. “The police won’t protect us.” He gets out the black case and unlocks it, taking three handguns out and laying them on the table.

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“I need to get you out of here, and then I’m going to take care of these two guys once and for all.”

My face falls. “What are you going to do?”

He picks up one of the guns and loads it. “I’m going to kill them.”

I frown. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Bridget—”

I cut him off. “No, Ben, I’m not going anywhere while you’re in danger.”