“Because in theory, you took the life I was owed. Biologically Nixon and Cathy are my parents and the lavish lifestyle you’ve led was mine, but do you see me being a mop about it? You should be thankful and move on.” I snort loudly, refusing to buy into her words. All the money in the world couldn’t give me what I wanted, what she still managed to receive despite all the odds being against her. A loving childhood and the sole attention of a supportive mom.
Realising I’m only punishing myself; I reach over to turn on the radio which causes her cuffed hand to graze my knee. This is going to be the longest drive of my life. The chorus of a new pop song begins to play but Meg immediately turns it back off, reaching over to rest her hand on my thigh. Throwing her a side glance, I force myself to focus on not crashing the car rather than the heat building along my leg as if her palm were on fire.
“I saw you in the streets a few times growing up. I used to hang over our balcony every time I heard the chaos from below, desperate to see what new gadget or designer outfit you had. I remember complaining to my mom how unfair it was that some people get everything they want when I had to save my allowance and wait for sales. Do you want to know what she said?” I don’t react, pretending I haven’t heard when I’m actually hanging on her every word. “She said, ‘You’re only rich once you have all the valuable things money can’t buy.’
My heart is slamming a powerful beat in my chest as I finally roll up the driveway, I’ve dreamt of returning to. Rounding the central fountain, I pull up right outside the front door and leave the engine running for someone else to park the car properly. The richly dark exterior matching the wealth of crime happening within, yet nowhere has ever felt more like home to me. Taking the small key from my pocket, I slip it into the lock of my handcuff and release myself from a peacefully sleeping Meg. She’s curled up like a cat, her head laying on the armrest and eyelashes fanning her cheeks, blissfully unaware of the evil lurking nearby. Ignoring a strange tug in my chest, I hop out of the car as a couple of Ray’s men appear in the stone arched doorway.
Dressed all in black with guns slung across their bodies, the pair stride towards me in unison, one shoving past to take possession of the car and the other leaning into the passenger seat. Jolting awake as meaty arms enclose around her, Meg’s screams fill the quiet estate as she’s dragged out of the seat by her hair. I look around the open courtyards either side of the mansion curiously, wondering if anyone will notice her high-pitched shrieks. If there are any neighbours close by, I’m sure this isn’t a rare occurrence and they either know better than to interfere or are paid handsomely for the inconvenience.
Clawing at the arm holding her in place, her eyes find me, a plea in their sea of blue as if she thinks I might help. I scoff inwardly and follow as she’s hoisted over the guard’s shoulder and carried into the house. She scratches his bicep, bangs her fists on his back and even tries to bite him but if he felt any of it, he doesn’t slow or seem bothered. Despite my first thought being to run into the house and find Rachel, a nagging pull draws me after Meg, some stupid notion making me need to see that’s she’s delivered to the underground chamber safely. Passing through the hidden door behind the grand staircase and trotting down the stone steps, I tell myself I’m feeling arbitrarily protective since she’s been in my charge the last two days. Besides, if this meathead is anything like the rest of them, I need to make sure he remembers to lock the cell door.
Throwing her inside the third unit on the left, he slams the medieval door closed and pulls a wooden beam down. Producing a brass padlock from his pocket, he then winds the thick steel chain hanging on the wall around the beam and secures it in place with the lock, shoving the key into my hand as he leaves. The electric lanterns have been switched on, lighting a dim path down the long corridor. A shiver rolls through my spine with the plummeting temperature down here, and if that wasn’t enough to make me want to run back upstairs then the scent of desperation and death certainly is.
My eyes land on Meg as she assesses me closely, her hands coiled around the bars in the centre of the wooden door. I could close the grate, so she’s trapped in her worst fear, but I reckon she’s suffering enough right now. Anyone would think surely by now, she’d be crying and begging for mercy, but there’s no sign of panic or alarm in her face. Just a determination to see out this inevitable fate with a sense of dignity I have to respect. Without having a reason to stay any longer, I throw her one last smirk and move to leave the makeshift dungeon.
“I honestly thought, deep down, you were better than this,” her words carry to me as I reach the first step, halting in place to hear the rest of what she’s burning to say. “Only the weak turn cruel, blaming the world for their bad luck instead of having the strength to overcome the challenges they need to face. And if that means I’m in here and you’re out
