I turn and nod and go back to cleaning.
As I do, I hum. I miss music. It calms me. She heads out, and I clean in case she’s watching me from outside. I keep going till I hear the car pull out of the garage, and I start getting excited. The adrenaline starts tingling through me, and I’m desperate to make a dash for it, but I don’t want to get overconfident and go too soon, so I start to clean the windows, making sure I clean the latch and the lock, and there’s no way I’m getting out of the window. They’re really thick andstrong. The back door has a glass panel, and I clean it while jiggling at the lock. Seeing the multiple locks, I realise I’m not just going to slip out of there, either. I check all the windows and all the doors, and even the one in the garage is secured.
I contemplate for a second what to do and decide I just need to break the glass. I pick up one of the dining chairs and walk to the front window. It’s the biggest, so it should be the easiest to break. I can see down the long driveway, and there’s nothing and no one there, so I take a running swing at it.
“Fuck!” I bellow out as the force I hit the window with is sent rippling back through me. I’m tossed onto the floor when the chair smashes and bounces back off the window.
“Fucking reinforced glass.” I scrub my hands into my hair and sit up. What the fuck do I do now? Apart from cleaning up the mess and hoping she doesn’t notice a missing fucking chair?
There’s no other way out unless I have the keys to the locks, and I know damn well she isn’t going to have left them here. I start to clean again, trying to give myself an outlet to vent and help me think and plot how I am going to get out of here. I come up with a story as to how I smashed the chair and just hope she believes it.
Vic
Chapter XLIII
I eye him suspiciously as he just starts cleaning. How very domesticated of you, but I’m not buying it; however, I need to go and shop, and I know he ain’t going anywhere. This place is like Fort Knox. There’s no one coming in or out unless I allow it, so after drinking my coffee real slow to make sure he’s not going to make a stupid dash for it, I head out. I need to drive at least an hour or so away, so I’m not close by if I am spotted. I decide on two hours. That should be plenty.
Once I pull out of the garage, I pull up my hood and slip on my sunglasses, keeping my head down. I drive two hours away, weaving through little villages and sticking to less travelled roads. I do a full sweep around the car park while pretending to look for a space. I shop, I buy everything that Jacob asked for, plus a couple of books and an iPod. I know he likes music, so maybe Ican load it for him with all his jazz rubbish. I also pick up a couple of pairs of those fluffy lounge things as I think they look comfy and cute. I pay with cash, and as I’m loading the car, I notice a van for the second time. I hurry to pack. I shove the frozen stuff in the cool bag and return the trolley. The van goes past me again and screeches to a halt as two men jump out of the side door.
They start firing, and I dive behind a car, grunting as I take a shot to the side. Fuck. I slip behind the next car, laying low and watching the legs under the car. There are three of them. I jump up from my hiding place. They’re watching the car beside me, and I start firing. I hit one in the shoulder and one in the temple. I jump back down and scurry further along, only to pop up behind a different car and shoot the other one in the chest. I make a run back to the car and peel out of there as fast as I can. The van’s right behind me, so I head in the opposite direction of where I want to go. I can’t lead them back to Jacob. And as much as I think this was just a random coincidence that they found me. I can’t be sure and need to protect what’s mine.
I can see the two bodies on the floor as I screech out of the car park. And the guy chasing me must be the one I shot in the shoulder, so I tug hard, sliding round corners at the last minute, making tight manoeuvres, knowing he’ll struggle. I’m already bleeding hard from the bullet to the gut, I’m hoping it’s a through-and-through, but I don’t have time to check right now.
I dart down an alleyway, almost crashing into a parked car on the narrow track, I lose my wing mirror, but I can manage without that. I screech out onto theroad, and at the intersection, I take the same loop again. As I fly past the alleyway, I glance down it and can see the van stoved into the back end of the parked car. I speed away and I know I need to dump this car, but I also need to get home to Jacob. I head towards the villages rather than the towns, using the farm lanes and back streets to loop around and zig-zag to where I need to be. I blink and try to clear the fog from my gaze, and my eyes feel heavy. I know I’ve lost a lot of blood; it’s been about three hours since I got shot, and trying to navigate the winding lanes is proving difficult, but I need to get home. I need to get to him.
I can’t leave him all alone; my eyes flutter, and I dig my finger into the bullet wound. I scream out, but it has the desired effect. As my eyes fly open, there’s too much blood in the car. I can’t dump it; it will take me too long. I don’t have time; if I get out, I might pass out. I’m so close. Just a few minutes more.
Pulling onto the track, I try to stay focused, but I’m losing the battle. I know I am. The garage opens as I drive towards it, and I pull in, crashing into the back wall. I slide out onto the floor, collapsing to my knees as I try to crawl into the house. I pull myself up to unlock the door, and it’s ripped from my grasp as Jacob stands there with a worried look before he sees the blood, and I drop fully onto the floor. The last thing I see is him jump over me and run for the car. He screeches out of the garage and drives away as my eyes flutter closed.
Xav
Chapter XLIV
I’m in yet another meeting with Father. They have been trying to track Vic, and I’m playing my part. I can’t find her. I don’t know where she is, and I don’t know where she would go. Father is irate, to say the least, and I’m losing patience. I continue to collect my information, and I carry on as normal. I stick closer to Shelley. I know things are different after my little tantrum, but she’s trying, we’re trying, I’ve even stayed over, and it was… nice, but I miss Vic. I can’t stop thinking about her, praying she’s okay and that she’s safe. I know where she will have gone. I just can’t be seen anywhere near there. I’m under no illusion that Father is following me and monitoring my calls and texts, so I do my due diligence and search for Vic. I follow leads. I bring the slightest sighting that’s away from where she actually is toFather. I play the golden child, the person he always expects me to be, and I get closer to him.
I head to Shelley’s. It’s been a long day, and I just need to unwind.
I push through the door. She’s standing in the kitchen wearing her work clothes, tights, a drab grey polyester skirt suit, and a white blouse with her hair in a messy bun.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
She chuckles. “Yeah, sure, babe.”
I smile at the term of endearment. Now, we’re officially a couple, which feels weird and also nice. It gives me something to focus on now that Vic’s not around, and I know it’s not healthy, but I can’t bear being in the apartment, let alone in bed, without her. It all just feels too empty. My heart and soul have been ripped out, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get her back.
I slide my arms around Shelley and nip at her neck, tugging on her ear a little, and she groans. “Babe, I’m tired.”
“Uh-huh.”
I kiss down her neck and lick at her jaw.
“Babe, I just want a hot bath. I’ve been on my feet all day.”
I slip her jacket off, toss it on the chair, and then tug her into the bedroom. She sighs like I’m the worst, and I push her back on the bed. I can see she’s pissed off, thinking I just want sex, but I know how to make her think it’s her idea. I kneel in front of her, take one foot in my hands, and start massaging it.
“Oh fuck,” she groans out, and I chuckle.
I dig my fingers and thumbs into every tight knot in her arch, her toes, and the heel of her foot, leaving the tights on as I know it drives her wild when she can feel my hands through them, my touch being kept fully from her and when I rip them off later she will be putty in my hands. Once she’s relaxed, I slide my hands up her calf, and she groans again. I start to knead at the tight muscles, and she stutters a breath.
