Locked up with the Badboy.

I take a seat on the floor in front of him, "What?"

He combs a hand through his dark hair and sighs, "This is a maximum security prison, the people here have killed babies, shot up schools , killed multiple partners and run crime rings and you, are saying that I'm mean? "


19. Good life.

Filled up and fuelled up, we continue our directionless crusade, well through the morning. But as the sun starts to reach it’s peak the sun makes the tarmac and the air that hits our visors hot. Add in the fact we’ve bee awake for over twenty four hours and I can slowly feel my body slipping into a lethargic state.

The Lulsa signs advertising iced tea, freshly juiced fruit and air conditioning are enough to break me. I slow the both of us down beside ‘the empire hotel’ and flick open my visor, “Beeeeeeeen, can we stop.” I say.

“Yeah I agree,” he rips his helmet off to reveal a head drenched with sweat, “I’m unbelievably tired.”

“And I’m unbelievable thirsty.” I say, flicking my helmet off too.

Ben looks up at ‘the empire hotel’ and nods, “Shall we?”


It’s not until we pass through reception and I’m cradling a crystal decanter of water as we use a silver plated lift up to our room that I realise where we’re actually staying, THE EMPIRE HOTEL, not the cheap knock offs that other cities have, but the crowning jewel of the empire brand.

“Hey Ben,” I whisper frantically, “Are we going to be able to afford this? I mean look.” As we step out of the elevator a smart looking waiter offers to take my glass, I offer it and he places it on his silver tray then promptly disappears in a very expensive way.

“Don’t worry about it, It’s only two thousand a night for both of us.” He rubs his pocket, “I’ll call Western union tomorrow and ask them to wire some cash to the closest watch repair shop. We stop at one of the two white doors in the corridor, “And here we are,” he says, unlocking the door and gesturing for me to enter.

The room is immense, a piano sits in one corner, a chandelier hangs from the roof. The entire city rests behind the glass of the large kitchen window. “How did you survive in the prison,” I whisper as Ben puts his hands around my waist and leads me forward.

He shows me a bathtub big enough for two, a shower that blows steam, carpet made from mink skin, and a minibar with caviar stocked.  “And all this,” he whispers leaning his head over me, “Is because for the elite quality is everything. No matter the price”

“But you were a criminal,” I say, “They let you stay here?”

“Clara,” He says running his hands over the leather that covers my stomach, “Clara, almost all the people in this hotel will be crooks in some way shape or form.” When he places a kiss on the top of my head my instinct starts pinging, Why’s he being so flirtatious all of a sudden?

“Now, truffles or champagne?” He asks with a grin.


 The doorbell rings and Ben opens the door to a elegantly dressed woman, carrying a bucket with ice and two bottles of champagne, “Room service.” She says displaying her manicured pearly whites.

Ben takes the bucket and carries it over to me with a smile causing a little shiver to run down my back, I’ve never seen him grin like a wolf before.

He screws the champagne until it pops, nodding satisfactually at the way the stopper arcs it’s way across the room, “That’s how you know it’s good champagne.”

He pours it into two crystal wine glasses before swallowing all of his in one go, “Man that’s good,” he says with a vigorous shake, “They should serve it in prisons.”

I nod, and gingerly hold the rim to my lips, I’ve never had champagne before and somehow feel a little guilty trying it now. As a student the glass in my hand would probably pay my rent for a week.

But curiosity gets the better of me, and as the light, sparkling delicacy floats over my tongue I feel my lips curling into a smile. “Wow.”

Already halfway through his second glass Ben raises his eyebrows, “Don’t tell me you’ve never had champagne before?”


Shaking his head in a mock scowl, he lifts his glass up. “Tonight Clara I’m going to give you a practical demonstration of how the rich live.” His eyes fall from my eyes down the shape of my body, “How the rich live.”

I gulp down a little more champagne.

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