“We’re past the point where I trust that your word is good. You delete the video, then we’ll talk.”
“Fine.” I pull out my phone, opening the photos app. The video I recorded is the second thing in there. The first being a picture I took of Maisie last night while she slept. She looked so damn beautiful, sound asleep, her hair spread out on the pillow behind her, her back bare, all I wanted to do was capture the moment.
Opening the video, I hit delete without hesitation, knowing that shit is already in the cloud and will still beavailable to me to turn over to the police, which I intend to do the second I get Maisie out of here.
“There. It’s gone.” I hold out my phone, though I doubt she can see it from this distance.
“You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you?” She tsks at me like a teacher reprimanding a bad student. “Delete it everywhere.”
“Not until you let Maisie go.”
“I don’t care about Maisie. I never have. She was merely a means to get to you. You want her so bad, come get her.”
I take one step before she crouches back down, sliding the back of the blade across Maisie’s cheek.
“But first, the video.”
“You harm a hair on her head, and I swear to God, Lana, it will be the last thing you ever do.”
“Such dramatics. Now delete it.”
Signing into the cloud, I find the video, turning my phone out so that she can see it’s there.
“Here is the video. The only copies were on my phone and in the cloud. Once I delete this, it’s gone forever, and you’ll walk away, leaving Maisie unharmed.”
“Of course.” She smiles, the sight causing alarm to race through my chest.
I hit delete with my phone still angled toward her.
“There, it’s gone.”
She bares her teeth like a wild animal.
“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s have some fun, shall we?” She turns the blade, pressing just beneath Maisie’s jaw.
“I did what you wanted. We had an agreement.”
“And what makes you think I would ever uphold my end after everything you’ve done?” She snickers. “Such pretty hair. I wonder if you’d still find herattractive without it.” She picks up a strand of Maisie’s hair and slices off a good six inches of length in one swipe, showing just how sharp the blade actually is.
“Lana.”
“Or maybe you don’t care about hair. It does grow back, after all. Perhaps you’d like her a little less if she wasn’t so infuriatingly perfect.”
I watch in horror as she drags the blade across Maisie’s cheek, blood pooling to the surface in an instant before trickling down the side of her face.
“What the fuck do you want?” I roar, panic and anger melding together.
“I want you to suffer, of course.” She says it so casually, as if we’re talking over a cup of tea.
“Then hurt me, not her.”
“But don’t you see, hurting herishow I hurt you.”
“So help me God, Lana, if you touch her again, I will kill you.”
“Unlikely you’d reach me before I make good and sure hers is a face you never want to look at again.” She makes her point by dragging the blade across Maisie’s cheek a second time, right next to the first cut.
I watch, completely helpless, as more blood pools to the surface, painting her entire cheek red.
