Taking the Heat (21 page)

Once we were clear on the plan, conversation was halted by the large fans brought in to dry the body paint. The women around me looked strong and terrifying; Clara was coated in a green leafy pattern, Jen's dark skin shone against the realistic woody grain paint and Meghan was transformed into a black shadow, her luminous eyes peering out from a midnight camouflage.

Every girl was given a pair of sturdy black boots, Lara Croft style, and we bent to lace them up tight.

‘Do you want to see in a mirror?' asked my artist.

Absently, I nodded, more interested in where that damn runner was with my food. When a mirror was handed to me, I gasped, unable to comprehend the reflection peering back at me.

I was coloured in tiger stripes, dark grey and burnt orange lying side by side on my naked skin. Touching my face, I marvelled at how the makeup lady had outlined my eyes in coal, making the grey-blue colour pop. Despite the fact that my breasts swung free and nude, save for the sticky nipple cover, and my butt was out for the world to see, I looked fierce; an unbeatable tigress out for blood.

‘Wow …' I grinned at her. ‘Thank you so much!'

A manager ran in. ‘Come on, ladies! We have to go, now!'

‘But, my brekky …?' My soft words were carried away by a chorus of whoops and yells from the rest of the girls. Forcing strength into my shaky legs, I trailed after them to the waiting buggies by the bungalow.

We piled in and bumped off through the dense foliage, tracking away from the familiar beachside. The jungle swallowed us whole, like a greedy anaconda, the trees closing over our heads as we delved deeper.

After a few minutes, the chatty and giggly girls fell silent as we were engulfed by the trees. Ten minutes later we arrived at our base, a clearing in the jungle, where our key bag lay on a raised platform.

Camera crews roamed around, some manning handheld gear, others operating cameras on giant booms high in the tree line. One guy was even fiddling with the controls of a drone, the little craft hovering a few feet off the ground, sending images back to his consol.

‘Okay, girls, three of you have to wear GoPros today,' said a manager, brandishing clunky helmets in our directions. The mounted cameras set on the top of the plastic headgear made the wearer look as though they had grown an alien out of their skull but the idea of my every move being tracked seemed like fun, so I stepped up and claimed one.

An assistant wrapped a belt around my waist, with the white tag attached to the back with Velcro. The soft material flapped against my butt cheeks, a powerful reminder of my nudity.

I was one of the five girls heading out into the jungle, searching for the guys' base. Naked, horny and raring to go, I was amped. The starting gun sounded in the air, and the five of us slipped into the jungle like silent assassins.
Don't fuck with the ladies …

With my tiger warpaint I felt invisible, invincible. I could hear the men whooping and hollering to my right, the idiots totally giving away their location. Smirking, I changed my course, drifting through the trees like a deadly cat.

Loris and Beau crashed towards me, loud and ignorant of my presence. In chocolates and emeralds, their defined forms looked like walking sculptures. I crouched behind a tree as they passed, waiting until the last second, then swooped from my hiding place and snatching their tags in one swipe. Rolling under a bush, I was gone before they even clocked who I was or where I'd gone.

‘Ah, shit, man!' Beau drawled. ‘We have to head back. Come on.'

They turned, and I followed, stealthy and silent.

The boys reached their clearing, attaching new tags and heading out again. There was only one person left at the base: Chris.

He prowled around the platform, alert. I knew I didn't have a chance of outrunning him. I'd have to be patient and wait for a distraction. In the meantime, it didn't hurt to perve.

Chris was decorated in black and grey, the pattern reminiscent of a rain-streaked ghost gum. His taut behind shone in the dappled sunshine breaking through the tree cover, and his strong arms flexed beneath the paint. I sighed raggedly, unsure of how I could run from the one person I wanted to catch me.

Giggling and crunching emanated from the far side of the clearing. I distinctly heard Babette say, ‘
Merde!
Look at that
cul!'

Chris charged towards the voices and I took my chance. I lit out running for the bag, breasts bouncing. As I reached the platform, my hand closed over the soft pouch as Chris yelled, ‘Oi! Drop it, woman!'

‘Never!' I called back, then ran as though a sex-crazed Gary Busey was chasing me. Plunging into the trees, I opted for stealth over speed, melding into the jungle, skilfully avoiding Chris as he crashed along behind me.

The distance between Chris and me grew greater and I began to dash faster through the leaf litter, confident I was alone. Not even Greg was around to capture my naked form speeding along, half a million dollars jingling in my hand.

My satisfaction at my complete solitude was short-lived as I crashed into Dante. His black eyes burned at me as he ripped the tag from my backside.

‘
Ciao, porca.
' Brutally, he picked me up and flung me over his shoulder. ‘I believe we have unfinished business.'

Chapter 21

It happened so suddenly, it took me a minute to process. I'd felt so strong when I was running, but now with my head dangling over Dante's shoulder, stars clouded my vision and I was weak as a kitten. The GoPro helmet slipped from my skull, thudding to the leaf litter as Dante carried me deeper into the jungle.

He'd been painted in shades of red and orange, looking like the demon from hell he actually was. Horror swelled inside me, along with the determination to fight him to my last breath.

Drawing as much air as possible, I screamed. ‘Help! Anyone—help me! Please!
Chris!
' The only answer was Dante's snigger.

‘Sorry, my little
Bella
, it's just you and Dante. And you are now a prisoner.'

Kick him in the balls!
I drew my foot back as far as I could, but Dante's arm wrapped over both my legs, holding them to his chest. I tried bucking backwards, heaving my torso, trying to get away. He was stronger, slamming a brutal hand to my back. With my arms locked under me, I was trapped.

Where's a cameraman when I actually need one?
I kept on screaming, my voice dulled by the massive trees around us.

‘Nobody says no to Dante,' said the vile man holding me hostage. ‘You will learn how to be a good little
bagascia.
We will learn together, no?'

‘No!' I shrieked at him. ‘Help!
Chris!
'

He pushed through a large bush, into a secluded clearing. Throwing me to the dirt, he fell forward towards me. I rolled quickly and sprinted, but he caught my arm and threw me hard against a tree, holding me there with his body weight. I whimpered, turning my face away but unable to stop my naked stomach and breasts from touching his skin, revulsion rising. ‘Chris isn't here,
donnaccia.
'

‘But we are!'

Clara, Meghan and Jen burst into the clearing, their faces aflame with fury and disgust.

‘Get the fuck off her, you dickless pervert.' Clara was magnificent in her green war paint, fists clenched and chest heaving.

‘Ladies, ladies, there's more than enough Dante to go around.' He turned slightly towards them, still keeping me flush against the tree.

‘God, I bloody hope so.' Meghan darted forward, delicate and graceful, and kneed Dante powerfully between the legs.

He squealed, high and long, slumping away from me and clutching his crotch. Clara crouched and swiped her leg around, knocking Dante off his feet. As he hit the ground, Jen stomped a foot on his chest, winding him, then crushed her booted foot to his windpipe.

‘Girls, I will stay here with this piece of human garbage,' Jen said pleasantly. ‘Megan, run the keys to base, and Clara can help Tara walk back.'

Clara looped an arm around my waist and indicated Dante. ‘Will you be okay with fuck-nuts?'

‘Oh yes,' she grinned, grinding her foot down as Dante gurgled. ‘He is not the first man who has tried to overpower a woman around me. I may be a sex addict, but I've never been taken against my will.' Like the tree she was painted to resemble, Jen was unbending and beautiful.

Meghan stepped forward and took the key bag from my hand, where I still clutched it fiercely. ‘You did grand, lady.' She dashed away, light on her feet, a demonic jet-black pixie.

Clara walked us away, her warm arm tight around my waist. She was surprisingly strong for such a tiny thing. She spewed a litany of cuss words as she steered us back through the foliage. ‘Mother-fucking-Italian-crusty-cock ass-wipe-douchebag! I hope Jen fucking cuts his balls off and feeds them to him. Touch my girl and die, while I take a dump on your grave!'

‘I'm your girl?' I asked, shakily.

‘You know you fucking are.'

‘I love you, Clara,' I told her, squeezing my friend's hand.

Under her khaki colours, she blushed. ‘Bitch, don't lez out on me. I love you too, whatevs. Come on, let's find some help and get Dante tied in a sack of fish guts and dumped in sharky waters.'

We moved as quick as I could manage, the lack of food combining with shock to make each step a wobbly balancing act. Finally, we broke out into the girls' base clearing, where the other ladies stood celebrating and about half the guys sat on the ground, looking beaten.

Meghan ran up. ‘We won! And I sent the crew out looking for you guys and a team is on their way to Jen and Dante. The producers want to talk to all of us when we get back.'

Tears filled my vision. ‘Thank you so much, both of you. If it weren't for you guys and Jen … I don't know what would have happened. You're all amazing.'

‘Anytime, girl.' Meghan smiled proudly.

I love my girls, but I needed my man. ‘Have you seen Chris?' I said.

‘He ran off to look for you. Hey, look! Guess who's back!'

Dante and Jen broke out into the clearing, his arm pinned to his back by Jen's tight grip as she marched him in front of her. The crew trailing after them looked on uselessly.

‘This man should be arrested for attempted rape,' said Jen, pushing him to the ground in front of the nearest producer.

‘I keep telling you all, my English, she's nota so good!' Dante's accent grew stronger as he tried to lie his way out of trouble. ‘Dante thought we supposed to capture the girls, yes? That's all I was doing!'

‘You dirty fucking liar,' shrieked Clara. ‘Bullshit!'

‘Dante is so-a sorry, he get it so wrong.' Penitently, he shook his head.

‘You people don't actually believe him, right?' Meghan, Clara and Jen rounded on the production team, defending my honour and blowing holes in Dante's excuses.

Meanwhile, Chris' voice yelled my name and I turned to the sound. ‘Tara!
Tara?
'

‘Chris! Here!'

He sprinted towards me, his eyes like blue daggers through his grey paint. ‘Babe, talk to me, are you okay?' He wrapped me in a bear hug and I slumped into his embrace, allowing him to smother my face in kisses. His bare chest felt like a warm blanket against my breasts and I pressed in closer to him.

‘I'm okay, I promise. Well, there's a few splinters in my back, but as long as they get rid of Dante, I'll be fine.'

But you didn't, did you, morons?

(Producer, off camera:
Tara, we explained to you. You guys were off the camera grid, and the GoPro didn't capture anything other than Dante picking you up and he explained he misunderstood the game rules.
)

That's such a crock of shit, and you guys are swallowing it. What about the three witnesses?

(It's your word against his—technically, the other girls are lucky not to be facing assault charges.)

Jesus …

(So … how are you feeling after such a crazy day?)

Seriously? Do you expect me to keep yammering like a trained parrot while you let a would-be rapist walk around unpunished? I'm done.

(For good?)

For today. Be buggered if I'm gonna let Dante take my million away from me.

***

Transcript of Tara M's video diary: Day 15

Date day. Reveals. End of diary.

(Producer:
Uh … Tara? Can we get a little more detail than that, please?
)

Fine. I ordered brekky in my room, trying to avoid seeing anyone at the bungalow who might attempt to sexually attack me.

My muesli bowl and Vegemite sour dough arrived with a surprise: Chris, followed by a camera crew.

‘Good morning, babe,' he greeted me, looking fine in cargo pants and a green muscle tee. ‘I got permission to come and see how you're doing this morning before we head out on our dates.'

‘You're amazing,' I smiled. It felt so limiting to not be able to touch him, so I gestured for him to come in and we sat at the table outside, admiring the clear day. ‘I'm doing pretty well. I definitely won't be skipping any more meals. Do you want some?' I offered him food and he accepted a piece of toast.

‘I'm glad you're eating. You look stunning, by the way.'

I had Mama Ruby to thank for that. Along with informing me she'd cast a voodoo spell on Dante, shrivelling his penis whenever he thought about having sex, she'd brushed my hair long and loose. It draped prettily around my outfit, a short green smock dress with long bell sleeves. For the second day in a row, I wore leather walking boots and I felt empowered from the weight of them on my feet.

‘Thanks.' I stared at Chris, wanting to crawl into his lap and rub my fingers down his stubble. The restrictions were killing me, and his face showed me he felt the same.

‘You know, one of these days it'll be our turn for a date and we will be using a strike.' He licked his lips a little and my body responded, tingling zooming along my nerves.