Paris Hemsworth's Road to Wonderland (Road to Wonderland Series Book 2)

by Marlow, Francesca

  I’m about to give up when I see the grey haired old lady stood at the gate, greeting a blonde haired girl carrying two shopping bags in her hands. As soon as I see her, it feels like my heart has forgotten how to beat. I know it's her before she even turns around. We have a connection between us that, despite the time that has passed, has clearly never faded. My hands instantly begin to warm at the thought of having her close by. I can’t stop myself from creeping forward on the path to get a better look. My head almost dips the full length to my shoulder, trying to look around further, but it’s no use. I have to get closer… and closer… and…

  The grey haired woman shoots her gaze directly at me, causing the blonde haired girl to begin to turn around, slowly.

  Our eyes lock instantaneously and I know it’s her. My Izzy. She’s stood straight across the street and my mind races with panic. Her bags fall to the floor in what seems like slow motion as she begins to creep along the roadside, before she shouts out my name. “Paris!” I watch her start to run towards me and something causes me to hesitate.

  She looks good. She’s well dressed, she has a beautiful home and here I am, a mess. I can’t drag her into my life like this. It would be completely unfair. My foot begins to move backwards. She doesn’t deserve to be in danger because of me, and that’s exactly where she will end up if I allow her back into my life. Keeping her on the edge is the only way I can keep her safe.

  As a bus flies down the road, temporarily blocking me from her view, I know what I have to do. I turn and run in the opposite direction as fast as my feet will take me. Hanging around here the past few days has had its advantages, getting to know the different streets and alleyways. While I swerve my way around the trees and my feet pound into the pavement, my lungs struggle to keep up and I gasp for air. Physical fitness hasn’t been my strong point of late and it’s showing. Heading down a passageway that runs behind some houses, I run directly out into the road when a car appears from nowhere and screeches up to my side. The door flings open and Tommy, Daggs’ partner, is inside yelling at me.

  “Get the fuck in this car, Rider.”

  I frantically twist my head back and forth between him and the path behind me, totally out of breath.

  “Get in this fucking car,” he demands.

  Without any more hesitation or thought, I jump right on inside and slam the door shut. I can tell from the look of anger on his face that he’s pissed off, but I’m too busy dragging the hair from my face and gasping for air to speak.

  “You’re in serious trouble. You know that, right?” He shakes his head before taking off. I just ignore his comment because I didn’t expect anything different. It was only a matter of time before Daggs sent one of his bro hoes to find me. The best thing for me to do is keep my head down and remain quiet. I’ll have to suffer the consequences of my actions, but as I sink into the seat, I know it was worth it. Just to see her face again and to see how well she has taken care of herself has comforted me in more ways than she will ever know. With my hand on the glass, I peer out of the window as we drive away, almost touching her face in the distance and whispering, “Happy Birthday, Moffelina.”

  *******

  It doesn’t take long for someone to stump up the bail money for Daggs’ release. He has connections in all sorts of places. To say he’s now on the warpath is an understatement. He thinks someone grassed him up to the cops and is out for revenge. Tommy hasn’t told him about my little walkabout, but something tells me that it’s for his benefit and not mine. Daggs would have a bullet in him as fast as he could snort a line of coke if he knew he had let me out of his sight.

  Only, he didn’t need to tell him anything anyway, because I fucked up by going to see Izzy. From what I hear, she’s been asking after me in all the regular clubs Daggs and I go to. He’s got wind of it from some of his goons and has put a lockdown on her getting anywhere near the pair of us. He has no clue who she is, just that a blonde haired girl has been doing a lot of snooping. He suspects she could be a cop or a journalist trying to get to him through me. It’s a ridiculous theory as who the hell would be so crazy as to put themselves out there as a target if they were trying to get information? This makes me worry even more about her. I know Izzy. She’s serious about finding me now and won’t give up until she does.

  I’m trying my best to protect her, but as the days go on, it’s becoming harder and harder. I now have someone chaperoning me everywhere I go, watching my every move. Ethan’s patience is wearing thin, even though I try to reassure him on many occasions that I’m not bringing drugs into the club. I’ve tried to cut back as much as I can, but it’s so bloody hard, and this constant watching of Izzy’s back is stressful, and occasionally, I do fall down. I can’t stop myself. But in a weird sort of way, it’s given me the motivation to keep fighting through my days. I know I can’t risk my job here now, more than ever, as it’s the only time I can get access to my emails. When half-naked dancing girls distract the idiot that’s following me, I sneak into Ethan’s office to use his laptop and check to see if Izzy has been in touch. The emails keep coming, thick and fast, all with concerns over my safety. Each one I delete just as quickly. I even consider deleting the email account, but something in my heart stops me. It’s nice to know how much she still cares, but I have to protect her from this world, from my world. I owe her that much after the way I’ve treated her in the past.

  They even accompany me to my dad’s grave, making sure nothing is sacred anymore. I’m now at a point where I have decided this will be my last visit for a while. It’s impossible to appreciate fully being here or to speak freely when eyes are prying from the car at the top of the hill. He’s the only one I could talk to about Izzy. It kills me to think what he would do if he was still here, but then again, it kills me even more to think I probably wouldn’t have ended up here if it hadn’t been for losing him. I’ve never fully healed. All I’ve done is search for things to fill up the voids in my life, but each one has created more of a hole, until now, it seems like there’s no way for me to possibly ever climb out.

  As I approach the headstone, I see something attached to it, an envelope of some sort. Adjusting the position of my body so the arsehole in the car can’t see it, I reach out as if pretending to touch the stone and quickly rip it off, pulling it close to my body. The handwriting on the front is a giveaway. It’s from Izzy and it is addressed to me. She’s obviously realised the emails aren’t working and has resorted to contacting me this way. I flash a backwards glance towards the car before ripping it open, eager to see what she could say this time that is any different to the rest. My fist tightly clenches at the paper when I see it’s her telephone number.

  All I am is one phone call away.

  All I want is to ring her.

  But all I can do is close my eyes and whisper, “I’m keeping her safe, Dad. I promise.”

  Thirty-Two

  15th April 2006

  Daggs’ paranoia is getting worse by the day, to the point where I am pretty much held up in his flat, twenty-four-seven, unless I have a shift at the club. But I’m beginning to miss more and more of those. It depends on how bad his mood is as to whether I’m allowed out and I just don’t know how much more I can take. Ever since the day I found that note on my dad’s gravestone, I’ve tried my hardest to throw it away. Yet, with every attempt I’ve made, something has stopped me from letting go of it.

  “Rider, what the fuck is this?” he snaps, stomping out of the bedroom with the piece of paper screwed up in his fist as tightly as his jaw is clenched.

  I swallow through the nervous lump in my throat and say the line I’ve practised repeatedly in case this moment ever happened. “It’s just the number of a new girl at work.”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me.” He strides forward, holding it out in front so I can see the whites of his knuckles. I tell myself to stay strong, not to cave to his intimidating tactics. I’m doing this to keep Izzy safe.

  “I’m not lying.” I shake m
y head and drop the cup that I’m washing back into the sink. “She was hassling me to go out so I just took it. I wasn’t going to do anything with it.”

  “You expect me to believe that?” Before I get a chance to sidestep away, his other fist yanks on my long, brown hair, pulling my head backwards.

  “I swear, Daggs, I’m not lying. I’m not,” I plead through the sting of my scalp, trying my best not to falter.

  “This is that blonde’s number, isn’t it?” His face snarls down on mine as he begins to shout louder and louder. “Isn’t it?”

  “Daggs, let me go.” My hand swings over the top of his to try desperately to tear it free. “Please, I’m begging you. Let me go.” My voice is nothing more than a whimper, but this only spurs him on. His grip gets tighter, more malicious, until I start to feel small roots of my hair coming away from my head.

  “You’re the grass, aren’t you? You’re feeding this little bitch info to get me sent down so you can escape me. Is that the plan? When will you understand? You. Are. Mine, Rider. You’ll never be anything but mine.”

  The pain becomes so excruciating; I can’t help but defend myself. “You crazy son of a bitch.” I swing at his hardened chest and try kick at his shin. “Just let me go. I don’t deserve this. Let me fucking go!”

  The grip on my hair loosens momentarily, but it’s only to allow his other hand to swing full force into my face. The strike of his fist knocks me so hard my nose bursts open. Only that’s the thing with pain – it can only go so far before the intensity of it turns you almost numb. Then the fight kicks in, and when it does, I know I have to get free of him, get away from him now before his damage is irreparable. That’s when I move without thinking, sinking my sharp teeth into his arm before bringing my knee up to his groin.

  “You fucking bitch,” he growls as he sinks to his feet, cupping his hand between his legs. It’s enough for me to scramble towards the bathroom and quickly lock the door. There’s blood dripping down my top, and it takes me a few moments to blink through my dazed vision. I know it’s only a matter of minutes before he composes himself and smashes that door down.

  “Open this fucking door.”

  Stumbling towards the sink, I glance at my reflection in the mirror, but I don’t see me anymore. There’s a scared, gaunt, blood-splattered girl staring back at me who now knows, no matter how much cocaine she uses, it won't rescue her from the mess that is now her life. I've become totally alienated from the person I once was and here I am, living my days in fear of what is around the corner. Daggs’ constant accusations over money, betrayal, jealousy - they’ve all drained me to the point where I have never felt so weak.

  But now I’m at the bottom, and I have nothing left to lose.

  His firm, loud knock on the door snaps me from my thoughts.

  "Rider, let me tell you how this is going to go down. Either you come out here right the fuck now, or I'm going to come in there. Believe me, Option A is a whole lot less painful for you than Option B. Do you understand what the fuck I'm saying?"

  I take a deep breath and swipe at my nose with some tissue before I creep over towards the door and steady my hand on the handle. I’ve barely opened it when his hand flies to my throat, lifting me from the ground.

  “What the fuck did you do, Rider? What?”

  “She’s a journalist,” I gasp, my hands fighting at his to free myself.

  His eyes widen and his nostrils flare, but his hand doesn’t falter. “Go on.”

  “She’s been trying to get me to give her info on you. Says she knows shit but needs solid evidence. Daggs, I swear, I never told her anything. I’ve tried to avoid her, but she won’t give up.”

  “If you’re lying…”

  “I’m not lying. I’m not.”

  He stares down at me, his face studious as he contemplates whether to believe my lie or not. That’s when he pulls a mobile phone and a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, shoving it into my chest.

  “Call her,” he demands.

  “W-what?” I whisper back, my skin prickling as my eyes dart between my chest and his eyes.

  “If you’re not lying, call her. Tell her to meet you at the abandoned warehouse off Terpin Road. Tell her you’re ready to talk.”

  “But…”

  His head snakes forward as he drones “Make the call.”

  I slide the phone and paper from his hand as he lets me go and takes a step backwards. The gap between us may have grown, but his death stare feels like his hands may as well still be around my neck. I tap the numbers into the phone with trembling fingers, hovering over the call button before pressing down. When the voice comes down the other end of the phone, I speak abruptly. “It’s me. I have something you might be interested in. Meet me at the warehouse off Terpin Road in an hour.” Then I hang up and ignore the stranger on the other end who is repeating the word, “Hello?”

  “Good girl.” He grins and grabs my arm, dragging me towards the living room. “Let’s see how interested she is in the little something I have for her.” He laughs. “Now go get changed. You look a mess.” Swinging me around in his grip, he throws me away like he’s bored of his latest toy.

  I rush towards the bedroom door and hang onto the phone for dear life. As I close it, I cower down on the ground and punch in the correct number this time to try and warn Izzy. I’m going to need her help; there’s no running from or denying it any longer. Just hearing her sweet voice on the other end as she picks up fills me with sadness. I pray to god she can hear the desperation in my voice and know how much I need her, ignoring the past three years of absence from each other’s lives.

  “Hello?” her voice rings out quietly.

  “Mav, it’s me, Goose. I don’t have much time to talk so just listen,” I whisper.

  “Goose! Where are you? What’s going on?” The concern in her voice only makes me hate myself even more for having to drag her into my mess. As children, I was the strong one, the one who she could depend on for anything during her tough times. It kills me for her to have to hear me this way, let alone see me, but I know in my heart of hearts that if I say I need her, she will come, and quite frankly, I don’t have time to dwell.

  “Daggs knows you’ve been trying to find me. He’s freaked out. I can’t live like this anymore. I need your help.”

  “You have it. Fuck. Always! But what are you going to do?”

  “Remember the place we used to break into as children. I’ll be there. Please… I need you.”

  “How will you get there? How will you escape?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Just be there for me. I know you will. I know you won’t let me down.”

  “Never,” she answers in such a way that almost has me believing I have the courage to stand up to this man.

  “Don’t phone me, back. You can’t, do you understand me? He doesn’t know I’m making this ca-” The line is cut off as the door flies open and the phone is yanked from my hand. Daggs’ palm strikes across my cheek, sending me hurtling across the bedroom floor. He towers over me while I hold my hand over my face to protect my body from his impending hits.

  I've seen many faces of rage on this man, but the one he's wearing now is new. The monster that stands before me means business, from the clench of his fist right down to the toe of his boot. As I peer back at him from behind my arm, I realise all I can do now is pray for a miracle.

  *******

  I can hear voices, but I'm too weak and dazed to listen to what's being said. The lids of my eyes hang heavily while my arms limply dangle down. I'm aware of being moved, but I have no idea who is carrying me or where I am. Every inch of muscle aches to the point where I can't even move. The slightest jolt sends excruciating pain through my body.

  "What the fuck did you do to her, man?" Lenny panics.

  "She needed to be taught a lesson," Daggs states flatly.

  "A lesson? Fucking hell, Daggs! She's lucky to be alive."

  "I need to show these people they can't mess wi
th me."

  "They're going to see that alright. Beating your girlfriend close to death to make a point. You're one crazy bastard," Lenny scoffs.

  "And you're gonna be joining her if you don't shut up."

  There's an uncomfortable poke in my back, which causes me to moan loudly. My head hits something hard and rolls to one side.

  "You just gonna leave her here?"

  "For now,” Daggs snarls.

  Breathing feels difficult. Everything feels difficult. I'm here, but I'm not, struggling to focus on anything but the pain. The only thing that captures my attention is when his voice blows closely into my ear. "You made me do this. I had no choice." I groan when he places something on my chest. "Tell them I said hi, and don’t get too comfortable. I’ll be coming back for you soon."

  "Daggs, come on, we need to go," Lenny insists.

  His voice sounds further away as he speaks. "This isn't goodbye, Rider. You'll always be mine."

  The crunching sound of feet against the rubble on the floor gets quieter and quieter, which leaves me with only the low beating of my heart and the blood flow ringing in my ears.

  I have no idea how much time passes before I'm able to encourage my eyes to open and look down my chest at what is sitting there heavily. It's difficult to make out through the blur of my vision, but as my weak arm moves my hand to pick it up, I find the last shred of strength I have to make the call.

  “Moffy… He’s… Just come for me.”