by N. K. Love
Turning her back on me, she walks over to the far corner of the room, where there’s an old rickety, wooden dining table. There’s only one chair, which she sits on, facing me. I crouch down and open the bag wide. The first thing I reach for is the bottle of water. With my head still banging, I feel so dehydrated. I gulp away at the cool, fresh drink, giving zero fucks that I’ll be desperate for the toilet soon—that might actually be a good thing, if it gets me out of this basement.
I take out a plastic spoon, disposable bowl of cereal and a pint of milk. Glancing back across to Carmel, she gives me a nonchalant shrug, but I swear I see her brain working overtime behind those blue, beady eyes.
It’s then that it dawns on me why she wants me to eat. She wants food in my stomach that’ll tally up with her fabrications. She’s planning to lead people into believing that we were taken from her bungalow later on today or tonight. So that would mean, should an autopsy be carried out as part of my murder investigation, I’d have food in my stomach.
“Wow! Cornflakes for the last meal of the condemned?”
“Maybe. Depending on timing, we may squeeze in some lunch too. Now, get ready. We need to go for a little walk.”
Carmel leans back on the chair and crosses her legs with a smirk, making it clear that she’s not going to give me any type of privacy. My irritation urges me to call her bluff. She’s purposely trying to make me uncomfortable here and I’m not going to let it get to me. In the grand scheme of things, what’s the fucking point?
Unfazed, I empty the rest of the contents onto the floor. I undress with confidence but, more importantly, I remember to conceal the small piece of broken glass. Keeping it inside the cup of the bra as I remove it. Moments later, I’m standing completely naked in front of her, feeling satisfied with the little feminine ‘fuck you’ that switches up the dynamics. Carmel’s gaze is transfixed by my body and she is the one that looks nervous now. She averts eye contact as she runs her fingers through her hair.
I bend back down to retrieve the wet wipes and one at a time I clean every inch of my body, thoroughly. Shifting in her seat when I reach between my legs, I give her my sweetest ever ‘fuck you’ smile and pull on the clean underwear, tee and jeans.
It’s a pathetic, minor victory, but a victory all the same.
Turning my back on her, I gather the dirty clothes and stuff them into the bag. Holding the shard of glass in my palm with my thumb, I turn back around, pretending to adjust my tits and deposit the glass back where it was. I’ve no idea if it’ll be of any use, but it’s better than nothing.
Carmel stands up, snapping herself out of her thoughts. I raise my eyebrow at her and lace my voice with a sickly sweetness…
“Enjoy the show?”
“Not really, darling, but at least you look more presentable now. Oh, just one more thing.” Walking towards me, she gets a small hairbrush from her pocket and I reach out to take it. “No, let me.”
She starts combing through my knotty hair. Taking care not to tug hard, I’m surprised by how gentle she is. She stands in front of me, watching my hair as she strokes the brush from the roots all the way down to the tips. She looks in deep concentration, similar to how a little girl plays with her dolls.
“Carmel, you don’t have to do this.”
I think she realises I’m not talking about my hair.
“Yes… I do.”
Her unwavered response tells me her mind is made up.
Continuing to meticulously comb through my hair, ridding it of all knots, my eyes well up with unshed tears. I don’t bother trying to hide it this time. My head’s fuzzy and my emotions are all over the place. I think I’m more confused by the fact that so far, I’ve only felt fearful for a minute or two. Other than that, I seem to be taking my trip to death row irrationally well.
As tears stream down my face, she pockets the brush and flattens my hair with both palms, stroking it. Cupping my face, she catches a tear with her thumb and wipes it away.
“I hope these aren’t for my benefit, sweetie.”
I shake my head, rubbing my lips together in earnest, tasting my salty tears. She casually takes the hairband from my wrist; it’s been there since I was sitting on the bed—oblivious to what was about to unfold. Moving behind me, she gathers my hair up, sending ghostly shivers over my skin when her fingertips brush against the back of my neck.
Whilst she ties my hair back into a tight ponytail, I cry my final tears, dashing them from my cheeks, trying to convince myself that I’m stronger than this.
After watching me eat she marched me, at gunpoint, out of the basement and into the brightly lit outdoors. The air’s warm and still. Heading away from the big, old house, we walked and walked for what seemed like miles. Originally I’d panicked, thinking she’d changed her mind about speaking to Jax and that she was leading me out into some woods to kill me. Then, when I saw her persistently checking her phone, I realised she was just trying to get a signal.
“Ah-ha. Finally.”
Before making the call, she tells me categorically that if I try any ‘bloody funny business’ that may rouse suspicion from Jax, she will have both him and Jack killed by her contact in Albania. She is killing me to get closer to Jax, but I refrain from calling bullshit on her seemingly idol threat. I would never do anything that might put them in danger and she knows it.
I was racking my brain yesterday, trying to come up with something subtle to bypass Carmel, yet obvious enough to stand out to Jax. It’s almost impossible. I’ll be on loudspeaker, so she’ll hear everything Jax is saying too.
When Carmel puts the phone to her ear, my confused heart explodes with dread, whilst melting with my love for Jax and all that he means to me. If this is it, if this is the last time I will ever speak to him, how am I supposed to hold it together? How am I supposed to stop myself from saying all the things I want to say?
I’m quickly snapped out of my hectic thoughts by a vicious slap across the face.
“Pull yourself together! Neglect my words at your peril. Remember that… If you love him, you won’t jeopardise his life again… Understood?”
Rubbing my cheek, I quickly nod and in a flash she proficiently transforms into playing the perfected role of the ‘Carmel’ Jax thinks he knows.
“Hello, Jaxson. Anything to report? … Okay… I see. So, what’s the plan, you’re just going to stake it out until nightfall?” I scream inside my head for him to come back now. I need him. “Okay, just make sure you’re at the airport by eleven because it’s the last flight leaving tonight… Great, so we’ll see you back here early morning some time.” I listen to her side of their conversation for another minute as she waffles on about needing more people on the case and how the Unit could’ve had this wrapped up in half the time. Then Jax must ask her how I am. “Yes, she’s absolutely fine. She’s a great little housemate…. Yeah… Hold on. She’s in her room with her head buried in one of those books. I’ll go and hand her the phone now. Take care and I’ll call you just before your flight for an update and good luck.” Carmel covers the phone and with a stern expression, she eyeballs me her final warning. Pressing the screen to flick it onto loudspeaker, she holds it out in front of me. “Bethany, sweetie, I’ve got Jaxson for you.”
Then she raises her gun in her other hand, pushing it into my stomach.
“Beth?”
“H-hey handsome.”
“I wasn’t expecting a call. Everything okay?”
“Yes, fine. I was just reading, again.”
“Yeah? Fancy reading me a bedtime story tonight, Angel?”
By the way he speaks, I can picture the cheeky smile I know is dancing across his perfect lips right now. I hate that she’s listening to us.
“Mmaybe not tonight. I’d prefer to do that in person.”
“B, you sound distant.” Shit. Carmel straightens her back and glares at me. “Am I on speaker?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m erm… painting my nails.”
Carmel’s face
softens a little and she nods at me in approval.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters to me. I miss you.”
“Good, because I’m missing you like crazy.”
“Yeah? I can’t wait for you to show me how much.”
“Try stopping me.”
“I wouldn’t dare… Okay, well, we’re flying home soon so I’ll look forward to that bedtime story.”
He’s about to say goodbye, but I need to try the only thing I could come up with that will slip under her radar. Trouble is, it’ll probably slip under Jax’s radar too.
“Hold on. You haven’t told me about your trip… How’s tricks?”
I close my eyes in a silent prayer and he doesn’t answer for a second.
“It’s all good, Angel. Don’t worry.” Fuckity fuck fuck. “I’ll be back before you know it… I love you.”
Is this really it? It’s the last time I’m going to hear his gorgeous voice, hear him telling me that he loves me. Being wrapped up in his unconditional love has been the best experience of my life; it’s made me weak, made me strong, but most of all it’s changed me into the woman I always wanted to be.
“Say it again.”
“I’ll love you always, Angel, all ways!” Tears sting my eyes again. Biting my wobbling lip isn’t enough to stifle my sob. Carmel angles the gun up into my face and grimaces. “Beth, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Trust me.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry… God, I fucking love you so much, Jaxson. No matter what.”
“I’ll call you tonight, Angel.”
“Okay, goodbye Jax.”
Carmel cuts the call off.
“About bloody time.” She dials another number and puts the phone to her ear. “Yes. All clear. Give it to the front desk… Well, pay them eight thousand lek, you are receiving more than enough to cover it!”
Ending the mysterious call, she shoves the phone into her back pocket and continues as if that second call didn’t happen.
“You really have dug your boring little fingernails into him, haven’t you? Hearing the way he speaks to you is, quite frankly, nauseating.”
Gulping away the lump in my throat, my bitter hatred is back with a vengeance. I fucking hate her.
“Are you sure about that? Because from here, it looks more like jealousy. You will never have what we have… and you know it, don’t you!?”
“Bethany, do you seriously think he is your happily ever after? You’re life truly is a sad state of affairs. I think all those books you must’ve read in your shop have given you very false hope. Your tendency to romanticize is misplaced with Jaxson.” Whatever I said seemed to have hit a nerve. “He will never settle down with a cheap, classless tart like you. You, who degrades yourself by masturbating down the phone, has the foolishness to believe he is ‘the one’ and that you are good enough for him.”
“You were listening to—”
“Jaxson is a fearless beast of a man that needs a real woman to take care of him, to heal his wounds. Our trauma’s connects us, which is something you will never have with him.”
“You’re wrong. You have no connection with him. He sees you as a friend. If he had any idea of the fucked up shit you’re responsible for, you’d never see him again… If I die today, I’d do it knowing exactly what it feels like to truly love and be loved. Can you say the same? Have you ever been loved, or just used and abused?”
Wiping the evil, manic sneer off her face, she grips a hand around my throat and squeezes hard. I instinctively mirror her and we stare into each other’s eyes. She presses the gun higher, into my chest, but I don’t back down. My vision begins to blur over and my hearing wanes. My cloudy mind whispers my name in Jax’s voice. When it happens again, I ease my grip and she follows my lead. Letting go at the same time, we drag air into our lungs, coughing and spluttering.
“Get back to the house… Go!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jax
1:06pm
“Fuuuuck!”
I slam my hands down on the dashboard again. Jack has his foot down, speeding us back to where we’ve been staying. That ferocious desire to pulverise something or somebody is driving my adrenalin through the roof. I feel the same as I did in the car last week, knowing Beth is in danger when I’m restricted in getting to her.
“You’ve got to calm down, brother. We’re not going to suddenly appear in England. There’s a minimum of eight hours travel ahead of us.”
“I know, I know… Fuuuuck! I just need to get to her, Jack.”
“I know you do… Listen, don’t do anything stupid, like fucking punch me or something, but… ‘How’s tricks?’ could just mean ‘how’s tricks?’ She might’ve genuinely been asking you—”
“No way… She wasn’t. I know her. Beth wouldn’t say that. She’d say ‘How’s things?’ or ‘What’s new?’ I know my girl, Jack. She’s smart. She was definitely using her safeword to signal me. I was suspicious at first, but now I’m fucking certain.”
“You said Carmel sounded fine though.”
“Yes. She did mentioned the Unit, which was odd. Maybe that was her way of signaling too.”
“Okay, but speculation isn’t going to get us anywhere. We need a plan. Let’s just pick up our passports and get to the airport. I’ve got my laptop here so unless you’ve got anything…?” I shake my head. “Then we don’t even need to go up to our rooms. We’ll save time with no luggage.”
We drive the remainder of the hour-long journey back with my head working overtime. Beth’s stronger than even she knows. If they’re in danger and there’s a chance she can get to safety, she’ll take it. Weaving ‘tricks’ into the conversation wouldn’t have been detected by anybody looking out for a signal.
Her precious, soul healing smile persistently invades my mind and the effortless way she’s captivated me. We are intended to be together forever.
Or are we? Maybe we’re a perfect promise that is destined to be broken. Maybe Beth was put in my life to prove to me that I am incapable and undeserving. Is this a twisted lesson to show me what I could’ve had, but won’t. The thought of somebody hurting her grips my soul and squeezes my heart until I’m gasping for air. If I lose her, I lose everything.
This harrowing feeling puts a new spin on being helplessly in love. Having Beth in danger when I’m two planes away from protecting her is fucking killing me.
When we arrive at the hotel desk, I get us checked out and wait for our passports to be retrieved from the safe. In the meantime, Jack talks to the other receptionist and sets about booking us two seats on the next plane out of here.
Fifteen minutes later and we were back on the road. Jack called the car rental place and made arrangements for us to leave the keys at the transfer depo in the airport. We pulled into a quiet side street and dumped the gear we bought from the hardware stores, from out the back of the car and head straight to the airport.
We didn’t get chance to use anything anyway. After returning to the first property yesterday, it turned out to be a rancid crack house. Roughing up a few of the inhabitants served no use. They barely spoke any English anyway. Once we’d weeded our way through the drugged up lifeless bodies, we found the dealer, who co-operated after a little persuasion. He’d never heard of Fahim Samara or had any dealings with a gang linked to the UK.
Then today we drove out to the second property and was met with a feeling of déjà vu. It looked like another crack house from the outside and the walking corpses we saw coming and going only helped confirm that suspicion. We were going to watch for a while longer and then take a closer look.
Whomever these drug dens are run by must be making a mint with the amount of footfall we saw at both properties. Samara has got to be highly linked for murder to be his first port of call when he finds that I’m still on his case. If I’m right and he has Beth, I’ve no idea how the hell they’ve tracked her down.
Once we arrive at the airport we have an hour to kill. Ou
r original flight didn’t leave for another seven hours, which whoever was listening to that conversation will have heard. So, hopefully, I’ll have the element of surprise on my side, even after a short stop in Istanbul.
At the check-in desk, I tear open the envelope from the hotel with our room numbers written on it and hand over our passports. That’s when I notice a piece of paper inside the envelope.
The death of one, weighs heavy on your conscience… How will you cope with the blood of three women on your hands?
Instincts confirmed, I immediately call Carmel’s number, which flicks straight onto voicemail. Next I call Bear. As much as I have a desperate need to deal with this myself, I can’t afford to wait. Bear can get to the bungalow by the time we’re boarding so I can’t afford not to involve him.
