She arrived at the cheap, dingy hotel which looked like it’d been built especially for rich men and their mistresses! Fortunately, the uninterested looking chap at the reservation desk had dozed off. She quickly scanned the log book. “Gotcha! Mr. and Mrs. Luke McDonald! ” she exclaimed as her gaze rested on the name of the couple who’d checked in last , reading out the name they’d used to check in and remembering it to be his birth name. She knocked on the door of room 420, hoping to get enough meaty material to put the tabloids outta business. “Must be room service.” she heard him make a guess. “Smoldering! ” a blushing Ina exclaimed, as the sweaty rock star’s bare chest greeted her, as he appeared at the doorway in only a towel. “What’re ya doin ere?! Are ya followin me?! ” the panting rock star asked, taken aback by her presence. “So, what’s goin on between ya an’ Mrs. Fletcher? ” she asked. She squealed as he painfully squeezed her cheeks and pinned her against the wall in reply. A speechless Ina widened her eyes, staring at him frightfully. “Now, I dunno how ya found out….but, you’d better scram before I call the coppers on ya! ” he threatened, baring his teeth at her. “Luke, who is it? ” Sylvia asked, appearing at the doorway on hearing the commotion, clad in a bath robe. “Oh, my god! Yer gonna kill the poor girl! What’re ya doin?! ” she cried out in horror,her bath robe flapping behind her, as she rushed towards them and pulled the furious rock star off Ina, who’d turned pale with fright. “Who is she? ” she asked him, staring at Ina who was leaning against the torn wallpaper to catch her breath. “A bloody rock journalist! She was just gonna leave……An’ she’ll keep er trap shut about us, won’t she?” he replied, before shooting her a threatening glare that meant she was not to let anyone know about his secret rendezvous with Mrs. Fletcher. “I’ve so many questions to ask. Since when has this been goin on? Does Mr. Fletcher know? Silly o’ me to ask. Of course, he doesn’t, obviously! ” a stubborn Ina rambled on, clutching onto her notepad. In response, a quiet Sylvia decided to invite her in. Luke seemed reluctant, but finally agreed on noticing that the other guests had gathered in the hallway on hearing the commotion. “An’ it should remain that way, kay? ” Sylvia interrupted their questioning guest, pulling her inside and slamming the door behind them. “But….” Ina began, feeling the dirty laundry slip outta reach as it began to withdraw into the drawer of sexual secrets from whence it’d come! “We’re doomed! She’s a snitch. They all are! ” he paced the room, biting on his nails as he cursed the media. “Please try to understand. If Tom finds out, the consequences could be disastrous. He’ll probably send his murderous goons after us! ” she pleaded. “What?! Murderous goons?! How come ya never mentioned those before?! ” he gasped, taken aback by her revelation. “That sounds bad….” Ina whispered, frightfully. “Of course, it’s bad, ya idiotic girl! Aww, geez! I can’t believe I’m beggin…But, I beg o’ ya not to print this in yer soddin magazine! ” a nervous Luke requested, feigning politeness in order to persuade her (though his gruff voice slipped out of the polite voice that he’d put on!) “Fine! ” she finally promised, defeated by her crush’s pleading puppy eyes. “I could’ve become Journalist o’ the year…But, not at the cost o’ havin yer blood on my hands! ” she confessed, dejectedly. “A rather dark girl, isn’t she? ” Sylvia whispered to him, spooked out by Ina’s dark comment. “Really? I think she’s rather charming!” he remarked sarcastically, before turning his attention back to the journalist, moving menacingly towards her. She took a step back in fright. “I’m countin on ya to keep this a secret.Now, get out! ” the sneering rock star growled in his signature style, before unlocking the door and pushing her out into the hallway, slamming the door behind her. “Ya owe me, ya know?! ” she retorted, before leaving the dingy hotel with her blank notepad.
THE SCOTTISH FETISH : Chapter 11