The seconds felt like hours as they just stood there, Harper staring at Beka as if she was a ghost, her face turned away, hidden from his view. Mr Culligan was, for once, quiet as he took in their faces, maybe realising letting this man see his employee had been a bad idea. Harper tried his hardest not to look at what she was wearing, or more likely, what she wasn’t wearing. It wasn’t like he hadn’t caught her in her underwear more than once, but this was different. Actually, when he’d seen her in her bra and knickers that had been less than what she was wearing now, but it had been different. With that type of underwear she never went out to be sexy and this was screaming “Look At Me!” The see-through gown along with the classical basque, pushing her breasts up in a seducing way, wispy knickers and suspenders with stockings were just too obvious. But he supposed that’s what people wanted in a prostitute. He winced at the word, even if he was just thinking it. He couldn’t believe it.
“Beka?” he whispered, as if he wasn’t actually sure. Unless she had an identical twin she’d never told him about, there was no doubt whatsoever. Beka didn’t answer, but clasped her arms around herself, embarrassed trying to cover her body up. Part of him wanted to go up and slap her for submitting to this, the bigger part wanted to go up and hold her tight, take her away and never let her go again. He did neither. Instead he just stood there until she started backing off and again went to hide in the bathroom. This time, she wasn’t followed. Mr Culligan glanced back at him.
“I think it’s time for you to leave now,” he said quite harshly. “I’ll refund you, but please leave.” Harper bit his lip.
“No,” he said, trying to sound determined. “No, I’m bringing her with me.” Mr Culligan frowned.
“Like hell you are!” he cried. “Who do you think you are to come here with your demands?” Harper pulled himself up to his full length – which didn’t do much – in an attempt to look threatening.
“I’m her friend!” he replied passionately, “and I’m not going to let you…” he stopped as Mr Culligan grinned at him.
“So why didn’t she throw herself in your waiting arms?” he asked sarcastically. Harper swallowed.
“Because…because she’s too scared of you, obviously.” The larger man suddenly drew himself very close, too close to Harper.
“Really?” he said dangerously, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “I’ve had her,” he added with a grin. The words hit Harper right in the heart and he suddenly felt very sick. “Several times. Have you?” Harper didn’t answer, and was rewarded with a sickly grin. “Didn’t think so. Now LEAVE!”
****
“I can’t tell you,” Harper said firmly and Dylan sighed, burying his face in his hands.
“So,” he said with mock patience, “you are asking me for five thousand thrones and for me and Tyr to be ready on arms all night, and you won’t even tell me why?” Harper sighed. He wanted to tell Dylan the reason behind his request, but the fewer people knew what Beka was doing, the better. For her, that was.
“It’s about Beka,” he pleaded, “it’s all I can tell you. If we can pull this off, she could be back here and everything would be all right.” Dylan held up a hand.
“You’ve found Beka?” he asked, unable to conceal the joy from his voice. Harper nodded. “And she’s in trouble? So much trouble she needs five thousand thrones?” He thought for a second. Beka didn’t exactly need five thousand thrones.
“I need five thousand thrones to even get to her,” he sighed. Dylan frowned.
“Harper, can’t you just tell me what’s going on?” He shook his head.
“No,” he replied determinately, “I can’t. Please Dylan, you just have to trust me.” The captain sighed.
“Ok Harper,” he finally agreed. “Ok. Tyr and I will be waiting for your call. I’ll get you the money in the morning. Now I just want to go to sleep, is that all right with you?” Harper breathed a sigh of relief as Dylan walked off, shaking his head. So now he could get her out. It would be easy.
****
A lot could be said about Mr Culligan, but he did actually give her that night off to recover. She had got back into her normal clothes and had hid under the covers of her bed, trying to forget what had happened. Of course that wouldn’t work and all that happened was the thoughts creeping into her head. The look on his face printed on the inside of her eyelids. The shock in his voice when he said her name repeating in her mind like a skipping CD. She whimpered softly as she crept further into the bed, somehow hoping she’d disappear into its softness, or travel back into time where she never answered the call and Harper had to go to someone else. She just hoped he’d left for good and wouldn’t come back again. If she had ever played with the idea of going back to the Andromeda, those thoughts were certainly gone now. She could never, ever look him in the eye again. The embarrassment when he’d seen her all sexed up. Did he think becoming a prostitute had been her own choice, something she liked to do? He couldn’t have, could he? He’d hate her. She swallowed the guilty feeling in her gut as she remembered her plans to stay in the business even after she had the chance to leave. Had she really changed that much?
She wiped the tears away from her eyes and cheeks with the corner of the duvet. Why had he come? Why couldn’t they just have accepted she was gone, and not bothered to come looking for her? Couldn’t they at least have granted her the freedom to choose her own fate? Apparently not.
At some point in her ramblings, she drifted off to sleep, sobbing softly through the night.
