Chapter 4: Four

Lucas couldn’t tell how plump the man was. Mr. Bovver, as he’d magnanimously introduced himself, was wrapped up in an off-white military suit with decorative shoulder pads. But he had a gut that the tightened belt could not keep a secret. His home was equally lavish. And he’d clarified, twice, that the submarine was his home. There were potted plants, a large painting of a harbor with the Eiffel tower clearly in view, and even a golden statue of Bovver in the corner. Despite the cramped space, there were several rooms, and Bovver sat down on a fancy wooden chair, complete with a curved backside and a velvet seat.

What could Mrs. Chung possibly need from this man? She’d let go of his arm, and he found it strange that he missed her soft warmth pressed against him. But what he missed most of all was the smell of strawberries, even if he could do without the coffee on her breath. 

“Have a seat, my dears,” said Bovver loudly with his arms magnanimously raised in the air. He moved behind Mrs. Chung to help her out of her coat, revealing a white blouse that hugged her cleavage tightly and covered her shoulders. The rest of her arms were pale and free, besides the coiled up tattoo of a serpent on her shoulder that seemed to glare at Lucas. The outfit stopped around her waist, leaving her thighs completely visible except for the edges covered by her black stockings. She looked radiant, almost innocent, and he couldn’t believe that they’d just been kissing, that she wore their engagement ring, even if it was a fake. Lucas could not look away until he caught sight of Bovver taking a seat. The man’s stomach flopped on top of his lap.

Lucas glanced at Mrs. Chung, who sat down with her legs crossed and a smile plastered on her face. Her seat was barely an inch from his, and he sat down, opposite from their host with only a small rectangular white table between them. A clock chimed in the space above his head.

The door burst open and a man appeared with a plate of drinks.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t drink.” Lucas put up a hand to stop being served but then winced when Elsa poked his side. 

“Nonsense, honey.” She scowled. “I’m sure Mr. Bovver has brought his finest.” She turned back to Mr. Bovver with a smile. “It would be a shame to let such a chance slip by.”

He took the glass in his hand, wondering what she was up to, while Mr. Bovver swiped his golden hair to the side and claimed a glass for himself. 

“To friendship,” began Mr. Bovver, raising his drink and winking at Mrs. Chung before turning to Lucas. “And love.” 

They clinked their glasses, and Lucas took a sip. He spat it back into his glass, pretending to swallow, but the thick taste filled his mouth and he bit down on his tongue to keep from hurling. If she just wanted to exchange pleasantries with this man, who Lucas realized was the leader of the French, why had he been invited? Why had she proposed to him and kissed him? This wasn’t what he’d signed up for.

“So, my love,” said Mr. Bovver after a long sigh. He placed a hand on her lap, his fingers teasing the frayed edges of her blouse. “When will you introduce me to your, err, bodyguard?” He ended his question as a second question that Lucas couldn’t help but see as a hint of jealousy.

She placed her hand on top of his, glanced briefly at Lucas, before turning her full attention back to the fat man. “My husband.”

Despite the thrill of being called her spouse, Lucas felt uncomfortable as Mr. Bovver eyed him up and down. He felt as if he were a stage prop or a dummy dressed up to play the part. Was the man testing the waters? Was that why his hand was on her lap? Should Lucas do something?

“How did you two meet?” The question came out slowly as if Mr. Bovver was taking great pains to make every syllable clear. As if he felt insulted by not having taken a part in her life.

Lucas straightened up. “In a café. She was pretty. I said hello. And here we are.”

“Quite the charmer, isn’t he?” Mrs. Chung butted in, glancing between the two of them before another smile stretched her face and she cupped Mr. Bovver’s cheeks in her slender fingers. 

But he still had his attention on Lucas. “You really do like your men the size of bears, my darling.” Mr. Bovver laughed loudly, patting her thighs, stroking them in between each slap, before relinquishing her and downing the rest of his glass. “Now my friends, let us drink merriment and enjoy the pleasure of each other’s company.” He tipped the empty glass towards Mrs. Chung before holding it out so that his server could refill it. “We shall see if I can get the beautiful madam here to lower her price for an old friend.”

Lucas watched her uncross her legs, revealing the dark red panties she wore. He glanced at their host and saw that his eyes had gone to the same place as well. Had they slept together in the past? The man seemed far too round for someone as slim as her, but there was mention of her preference for big men. But she also didn’t seem like the type to allow men so near her delicate parts without expecting something in return. So what did she want from Lucas?

They talked for a while longer, and Lucas sat quietly, studying the way her lips formed words and her eyes remained laser-focused, and wondering why she’d brought him along. Why she’d kissed him. And why she kept flashing the ring on her finger in front of Mr. Bovver.

Was the engagement real? He felt his heart rate quicken, his mind painting a chapel. She was already dressed in white, and he was pulling on a suit, and they stood in front of each other, kissing again.

A vibration in his coat pocket, right up against his chest, pulled him from the church, and he glanced up at Mrs. Chung, whose brown eyes met his with alarm, as he reached for his phone.

There was an ominous click behind him, and he felt the familiar kiss of a gun’s cold lips on the back of his head as she put both hands in the air.

“Please,” she said, her voice calm, her eyes cold, and her lips red. “Forgive my husband’s lack of foresight.”

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Mr. Bovver looked at her as she stood up. “You’re telling me that’s not a weapon he’s reaching for?” He placed a hand on the small of her back.

Mrs. Chung nodded. “You know my rule, Mr. Bovver. No Weapons.”

He chortled in his seat, then turned to look at Lucas with a wide smile. “Then what is he going for, my dear?” He had slipped further down her back, and Lucas could tell by the vein throbbing on her forehead, that the hand had slipped up her blouse.

Lucas took a deep breath. “It’s nothing, it was just-”

“The sample we give in good faith,” she finished as she bent forward to reach her hand into his coat. She glanced back at the blonde man, whose hand was clearly massaging her ass. “If I may?”

Mr. Bovver grinned and pulled his hand back, bringing with it the red fabric of her underwear. But it snapped back into position when he let go and nodded. 

Mrs. Chung brought her face close to Lucas. “You’re an idiot,” she whispered, slipping her palm across his chest. But when she took it out, the phone was still in his pocket, and he watched her with confusion and guilt as she sat back down. The straps of her panties were lower than they were before.

She crossed her legs and placed a plastic bag on the table.

Lucas cleared his throat as she shot him another scowl. There was something clearly wrong with whatever relationship she shared with Mr. Bovver. It was obviously sexual, but perhaps she was no longer interested in him? Or perhaps it was Lucas’s presence that made her uncomfortable and she actually wanted to be with the fat man.

“Ah,” said Mr. Bovver, smacking his lips as he picked up the bag, dangling it in front of his face so he could eye the vibrant pink pills within. “These are quite beautiful. I can’t wait to give this a try tonight.” He smiled apologetically at Lucas. “I’m sorry my dear man, but we have a tradition you see. Elsa and I perform, or rather, experience, every new strain of Delight together. Now isn’t that right, my dear?” He turned back to her and rested his palm on her cheek.

She put her hand over his, massaging her face with his chubby fingers. “I’m sure my husband won’t mind.” 

Lucas swallowed, unsure of where to look at or how to react. “I hope you will enjoy, sir.”

Mr. Bovver grinned. “When I am finished, you are free to jump in for a ménage à trois.” He moved to stand up, but Mrs. Chung put a hand on his knee to keep him still.

“There are a few,” she said, pausing to climb onto his lap. “Differences with this new one.” Her slim legs dangled on his either side; her belly pressed against his round gut.

“Is that so?” he responded as she combed his blonde hair with her fingers. Bovver’s fingers hand swiftly slipped to her ass, clasping each cheek as if to taunt Lucas.

“It is sad to be far more enchanting.” This time she slipped a hand between them, and Lucas could clearly see her fingers reaching for the other man’s fly as she raised her hips. “Would you like me to serve it to you?”

A giddy laughter escaped Mr. Bovver. “We haven’t done this in quite a while.” He clapped his hands, and the waiter left with a bow, shutting the door. They were alone in the living room. He reached his hands down beneath her, giving her backside a seat that reached underneath her dress and massaged her as she popped open the bag. 

Mrs. Chung glanced back at Lucas, a brief look that contained anger, helplessness, and madness all at once, and he realized why he’d been hired. He stood up, smiling at the other man, and took position behind her. No doubt Bovver thought this would be a threesome. 

She bent forward, presenting her backside to Lucas completely, and he saw that little knife that kept her blouse together. 

A moan came from beneath her, and Lucas looked up to see her popping a pill between Mr. Bovver’s lips. The man’s face was reddened, his hair falling backward as he leaned back in his seat, awaiting the expected pleasure. 

Mrs. Chung laid down, flattening herself and holding the blonde head up so that Lucas had a clear target as he plunged the tip of the blade into the fat man’s neck.

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