Oh fuck now it gets hard. He is going to hit me. I can imagine him flying over the table and punching me square in the face. I would deserve it right now if he did.
“I haven’t let her see me yet she is locked in her old bedroom and has been for ten days now. I don’t know how to face her, I was just going to pack her up and send her on but I somehow can’t. Something is wrong with me. And I don’t know how to even begin to tell her the ways I have failed her already. She is acting so weird she thanked me. After she found out that she was dead, so to speak she said thank you to the camera in the room and fucking laughed. I don’t get it. I am losing my shit Callum.”
Cal’s concerned face is now even more worrying. I can see him trying to work this out in his mind. I am usually so black and white and this is very grey. I don’t understand why I feel like this, why I feel at all.
“Let me get this straight,” He sets the whiskey bottle down hard on the table between us. “You killed Ellia but you didn’t kill her and you are holding her prisoner at the estate for ten fucking days before you call me? And you haven’t even talked to her yet! You need to get rid of her. Where the fuck were you going to send her she can’t be here now she is dead? Why did you wait ten days to tell me man? What have you been doing?” Callum’s patience is wearing very thin with me, I see the twitch in his left eye, the twitch that says I am going to hurt you, the one that I only ever see when he gets physical and beats the ever loving shit out of someone. He is restraining himself only because we are friends and in a very public setting.
“I was watching her, trying to get my head around how to fix this. I don’t know bud I don’t know.”
He just looks at me. I am in so much shit it’s not even a joke right now. The frown lines on his brow let me know he is still not impressed by my bull shit excuses. He bangs the bottle down again this time hard enough that a few glances are thrown in our direction.
“Bud you are fucking screwed, no offense but it’s time to jump ship. I think you need to pack her up and dump her ASAP. Keep her local this fuck hole is one place it’s very easy to hide in plain sight.” He says slowly making sure I understand him, not taking his eyes away from mine as if looking for a confirmation that I am listening and taking in his lecture.
I sigh, sinking back into the uncomfortable plastic chair and shove my hands in my pockets not sure what to do with them right now, I don’t want to drink anymore right now, I need to try and clear my head. The damn whiskey got me into this mess I am sure of it.
“How do I explain this to her? I need to suck it up and get this done but I feel like I am missing a piece of a puzzle that’s why I haven’t moved her yet. Something about this husband doesn’t sit right with me, plus I want to fucking kill him.”
I lean back further sliding down in my in my chair and stare out at the bay the sun is gone and the surfers are packing it in for the day on the beach in front of us. Doodles will be crawling in few minutes. I try to think about why the hell I feel like I cannot let her go, which was the plan all along save her and let her go. Now I don’t want to. I feel like a kid playing with someone else’s toy, I want it to be mine but I know I cannot keep it.
“I moved all her money so that fucker husband won’t get any, it’s just gone. I figured he really does have enough of his own. I intend on making him very much gone too. Something is up there I can’t quite put a finger on it but I will.” I try rationalising my crazy behaviour to my friend who is holding back his rage for now.
I see Callum shifting in his seat. He is eyeballing all the wet half-dressed kite surfers heading our way and turns back to me. He hates surfer dudes.
He slaps his hand on his knee bringing me back from my thoughts.
“Fucking fix this Ro and do it fast. I have to go; the locals are going to fill this place with their surferness now. I am not in the mood for that today. I will help you with anything you need but you can’t keep her she is not a pet.” His loathing for the local beach bums evident in his tone. He pulls his wallet out of his designer pants pocket. The way he says pet gets his point across loud and clear to me. He stands and throws way too much money on the table and stalks over to flirty girl I see him whisper to her grabbing her ass and she smiles a huge smile. As Cal walks out she grabs the money and I see her ask the manager to leave. At least one of will get laid tonight. Cal loves the jail bait here in the Cape and no doubt he will be having a night of wild sex and paying her to fuck off in the morning. He is an asshole to women. But then again so am I.
I sit for a while thinking about this whole mess I seem to have caused. I just don’t want to let her go simple; I want her to be mine. I am not sure why or what I would actually do with her if she stays but I am just not going to let her walk away. I stalk back to my black Range Rover it fits with my socially acceptable cover job; I am a wine farmer after all. I feel a little relief that I told Callum but I am irritated by these stupid feelings I have. I hate feeling.
ELLIA
“In the cemetery of shattered hearts, every tombstone is engraved with a thousand promises of I’ll Love You.”
~Shakieb Orgunwall
I have been in here for ten days now and I’m starting to get a bit of cabin fever if I’m honest. At first I was so very glad to be free of my God awful life that it didn’t matter that I was in a cage but now my mind is working overtime and I want some answers. I have paced the floor, watched the telly, done all I can not to die of boredom. I also want some real food; these people can’t cook for shit. I don’t think I can face another plate of bland instant noodles that have been cooked past the point of no return, or runny eggs, gag. The best meal was half burnt toast with marmite on it you have to be all kinds of useless to fuck that up. I would also commit murder for a cup of coffee right now. I get a bottle of nasty energy drink once a day and I can drink water from the tap but I need caffeine to function. I lie here imagining a latte in my hand as I chug the blue energy drink down. I think I am going a bit crazy if I am starting to imagine the things I miss.
I see that it’s very dark out now so I do as I have for ten days now; I shower and put on clothes from my wardrobe that was stocked when I arrived. I am out of pyjamas now since no one has fetched or done any laundry for ten days. I throw on a long sleeved T shirt and a pair of knickers.
Climb onto my bed and continue to turn my brain to mush watching the telly.
I wait until my watch says it’s eleven and I am irritated and angry enough to snap, I stand up on the bed and talk directly into the camera I know is watching my every move. Thankfully I haven’t seen any in the bathroom so I know it’s not a perverted peeping Tom who kidnapped me. I get up and stand on the bed as close as I can get to the camera above it.
“Please tell me what’s next? And for fucks sake please can I have some real food in here? Your cook sucks balls!”
I sit down satisfied with my little tantrum and go back to flipping channels. I never expected what happened next at all, not even in all the wild scenarios in my head had this been one. You can’t dream up things this crazy.
The door clicks open and a tall man walks in. Oh shit I’m in my knickers I blush. I feel the deep red heat burning its way up my neck and onto my cheeks.
I recognize the man in front of me instantly I only met him once but I crushed on him for years after that. Rowan. It’s him, older now but still sexy as hell and I’m in my knickers, please floor swallow me up now. I grab a towel and cover my legs so he cannot see my scars. It’s a reflex. I cannot however hide the blush that has turned my face into a beet.
“You” was all I managed to get to come out my mouth I was so shocked by his presence. Even more mortified that I was meeting him in my underwear. My throat is starting to close with start of rising panic. I won’t let him see it; I won’t let him know I am weak.
The years have been kind to Rowan he is as sexy as he was all those years ago only now he is much more manly
. My heart has stopped beating I’m sure. Maybe I really AM dead I think. I can see him eyeballing my clothing choice and I rush into the bathroom to pull my dirty yoga pants back on.
He runs his hand through his hair then shoves both into his jeans pockets and just stares at me when I come back out, waiting for me to say something. His jeans are definitely designer and fit him like a glove making his athletic build sexy as hell. His face says I am nice guy but his eyes show me that there is more to him than meets my eyes.
“Rowan.” I mumble, now fully clothed. My brain still trying to catch up with my reality.
“Yes, it’s me; I didn’t think you would remember me at all. I am so sorry Ellia for everything, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. Oh god you must hate me I am sorry.” His gravelly Irish accent rolls off his tongue and I cannot actually believe it’s him in front of me right now. What’s he sorry for? Does he know?
My brain suddenly stops its man induced malfunction and I start talking out loud and not just inside my head.
“Why am I here Rowan? And why are YOU sorry? Why am I locked up? Why are you in my dad’s house? He died Rowan, did you know that? Why am I dead for fucks sake what is going on?” I spit the questions out all at once with as much venom as I can muster in my voice.
He sighs and pulls his hands through his hair again. The frown on his face leads me to believe none of the answers he is about to give me will make me feel any better.
“Your husband hired me to kill you so he could get your money, I couldn’t kill you because I am, I mean I was your watcher so I killed Ellia and brought you here, I am so sorry I locked you up and that your dad died and that I never came in here. Fuck Ellia I am so fucking sorry.” He huffs out sounding just as confused as I feel. His shoulders slump slightly like he feels defeated by the whole situation. His cool exterior doesn’t match his eyes, I want to know more I don’t understand I am afraid and I feel the panic clutching at my chest with every single breath. I try taking his answers in. But I am hungry and confused and quite frankly I can’t stop looking at Rowan’s body. Stop it brain work dammit. He kidnapped you for crying out loud being hot doesn’t make that right.
“You can’t cook; I mean you cannot cook for shit. My husband hired you? Really? That makes fucking sense now. Asshole. Why are you in my dad’s house Rowan?” I look him in the eye demanding answers with my mind. But all I see is those blue eyes that featured in all my teenage fantasies. Fuck stop! Only they are not quite so inviting now. I need to stay calm I don’t think I can trust this man.
“I know I can’t cook sorry again, maybe you can cook later? Your dad left me the estate and his business when he died Ellia that’s why I’m here. I stopped watching when you got your happily ever after just like Mick asked me I never dreamed he would want to kill you. You got married. You looked so fucking happy. Why did you thank me for killing or not killing you?” His voice is calm as if he wants to reassure me, thing is I don’t trust sweet words I trust actions and he kidnapped me. Faked my death and locked me up for ten days. Shady level dangerously high. I laugh out loud again. Oh Rowan you fool. You saved me from the deepest darkest depths of hell. You could not possibly understand what you have done for me.
“My husband killing me would be and really is a blessing he is an evil man Rowan a powerful evil man. The only way I was getting away from him was in a body bag. You are a shit watcher by the way. I never got a happily ever after I got eight years in hell. I thanked you for freeing me Rowan I would have killed myself eventually living that life. This way I can be dead and alive.” I answer him and look closely at the man standing in my room waiting for him to talk again.
I can see pain and defeat in his eyes, he swallows the lump in his throat I know my dad had asked him to keep me safe but he had no way of knowing no one ever would. I am relieved that its Rowan here somehow I know, my dad had loved him as son, he told me that once after our trip to Ireland to bury my Gran. I also knew that it was not so farfetched that my husband had hired him to kill me. I also now knew he had no idea who and what my husband was. I didn’t think I even knew the whole truth of that. But I did know he was evil. Pure fucking evil. Rowan however was trying to appear harmless but his eyes betrayed his words.
“Tell me what happened Ellia when I left you seemed genuinely happy.” He seems genuinely concerned about what has happened to me. My defences go up and I instantly feel a vicious need to make him feel guilty. He could have saved me if he watched me a little longer.
“I fell in love with a very handsome, charming man Rowan and he let me believe that till he had me so convinced that he loved me I agreed to marry him, but very soon things changed and the charming handsome man revealed the vengeful monster that lived below the facade and that was just the start.” My words are toxic as I spit them out, just thinking of Renzo and the hell I have survived has me angry at the whole world. Rowan seems to struggle with a reply I try to read his body language but he seems to guard himself closely the only clue to an actual feeling is in his blue eyes.
“I had checked him out he was squeaky clean. You guys looked so happy.” He defends himself; he doesn’t need to even if he was watching he would never have known Renzo was too careful.
“Looks can be deceiving Rowan and he made everything appear perfect. He is a powerful man Rowan, he is an evil man, my dad was a bad man yes but he loved me, my husband was evil and did not love me I don’t think he has the ability to love anything.” The image of the devil that has robbed me of my life is fresh in my mind again, I had forgotten just a little the last ten days but it is all flooding back now. I don’t want to remember it, I want it to be a bad dream that I wake up from and it’s gone forever.
He is silent as he watches me I don’t want to tell him more. My personal hell was mine to keep I won’t put that on Rowan. Rowan’s eyes are glued to me as he sits down in the very uncomfortable wing back chair. I can see he is thinking very hard. He is trying to read me just as much as I am trying to read him. I have mastered hiding my feelings for eight years, I won’t let them show to this stranger, first I need to know what is going to happen to me now. I cannot live in this limbo I either need to be dead or alive, I cannot be both. Can I?
“What now Rowan? When dad died there was a plan I just followed it. Now what happens? I am scared. I am a thirty one year old dead chef whose father was a professional murderer and the only person who knows I’m not dead seems to be in the same shitty line of work so what do I do NOW Rowan?” I raise my voice at him wanting an answer unable to hide the rage in my voice. I am suddenly so angry at him for not killing me. I begged to die every day for eight years he could have just killed me.
He looks away as if searching for the answer out the window and trying to avoid my questions. Coward. The answers are not out there I looked earlier you foolish man. I just can’t switch my sarcasm off even in my brain.
“I have no money. My husband will get it all now that I’m dead and I have nothing.” I am starting to feel defeated, like I have for so long like fighting is just not worth the effort when you cannot win. If you fight you get hurt, more. You will hurt no matter what I learned that quickly enough but fighting will always make it worse.
Rowan spins himself around to face me again; he has a look of pure hatred in his eyes when he answers me. This man is dark on the inside, there is a monster lurking behind his handsome face and hard body. One I intend to get away from, soon.
“That piece of shit won’t see a cent of your money I swear, I moved it all before you died, well technically you moved it but no one will find it especially not him.” I don’t believe him; he doesn’t know Lorenzo Baldini like I do.
“He found it once Rowan and he damn near killed me for hiding it. Dad always told me money brought attention and attention brought accidents. I never ever told a soul I was independently wealthy but he found it.”
Rowan scowls at me now, evidently confused by wha
t I just told him. I see his anger burning just below the surface his muscles are tight and his fists clenched. I see the tight line of his jaw and the slight red flush under his skin gives away that he is working very hard to restrain himself. Trying to keep the nice guy face on and not scare me, too late I am terrified and about one heartbeat away from a full blown panic attack.
“What do you mean he near killed you Ellia, what did he do? What are you saying or not saying to me?! Dammit tell me everything!” His words are hot with anger and his demanding tone pisses me off even more. I snap, enough of this bullshit now. I am going to either panic and pass out or fight back.
“You cannot lock me up for ten days and expect me to bear my soul to you Rowan I won’t. I am angry and scared and relieved and confused. AND DEAD!”
I seethe at him now reaching my boiling point. I am realising the magnitude of my situation and it is making me furious. I am at his mercy; again I am in the hands of a fucking monster.
He stands up and nods, then simply walks out and locks the door again as if none of this even happened. My blood boils in my veins but I keep my exterior free of any emotion. I know better.
As soon as he is gone run into the bathroom and throw up the acid in my empty stomach till my throat burns. Then I lay on the floor and cry and cry until my tears turn into panic I pass out eventually. I cry for the eight years that are imprinted on my brain and my body and mostly I cry for the heart that has been ripped from my chest. I hate being so weak, I hate that I didn’t fight harder. I hate myself, he should have killed me, asshole.
I dream about my dad and young Rowan as I remember him from when I was fifteen year old girl flirting with this hotter than hot man who was clearly irritated to babysitting some stupid teenage girl. I dream of going to the beach with dad collecting shells and eating in fancy restaurants. I dream of the fun times the love I always felt from him. It’s the first time in years I don’t have a nightmare there is no pain biting into me ripping me out of my rest.
Colour My Ugly Page 4
