With a stiff neck, I scanned my surroundings. there wasn’t much to decipher. I was in a small room, lit only by the bedside lamp that was on the table next to the bed. There was an armchair with a rose velvet cushion in one corner. The walls were bland and frameless.
After waiting for another bout of nausea to pass, I went to the window, holding on to the small table as support for my shaky frame. Outside, a yellow cab was waiting at a red light on an otherwise empty street. I couldn’t decide if I was still in Lilycity. I thought I had a fair recognition of the clock tower that stood at the center of the city square, but it was too distant and I was too tired to be sure. My hand pressed against the glass. I closed my eyes until the dizziness passed, then slowly and painfully moved to the door of the bedroom and placed my ear against its smooth white surface. I could hear a Television echoing in the background and hushed voices, but nothing else. I twisted the doorknob, expecting it to be locked, but it wasn’t. Without a sound, I cracked the door open. Initially I was surprised to find that no one was keeping guard at the door, but when I looked all the way down the corridor, I noticed the man that was standing behind Maxine earlier. He was looking at me. I speedily closed the door and dragged myself back to bed, got under the warm covers, and let my eyelids fall once again. I had exhausted whatever small resource of energy I had left in me. I would have to stay here. If this was where they live, then this is where I would be living. Within a few minutes, I was asleep. I heard someone clearing his throat, and I was startled awake. The room was blackened, except for the light that was pouring in from the hallway. Hollis was standing by the open door, like he was waiting for me to wake up. I looked up at him through a sleepy, confused haze. He looked tired but satisfied, and he slid out, closing the door behind him. I fell back asleep almost immediately. The same thing happened many more times. Hollis would walk into the room, make some small noise, wake me up. Then I’d look up and he’d quietly exit the room. his expression always blank. He had apparently taken on the task of ensuring that I didn’t die in my sleep. So far, he had decided to keep me alive, for whatever reason. In the morning, I woke up to to see Hollis uncomfortably sprawled on a very small armchair, still fully dressed, but had obviously changed out of his bloody shirt. I couldn’t remember if he still had it on when I had first woken up in the room. His head was rolled back and rested on the wall with one hand half fallen over his eyes, an unconscious effort to block out the rising sun. His brown hair was scruffy, like he’d raked his hand through it a thousand times. "How are you feeling?" He asked. "Fine," I answered quickly without really thinking about the question. Hollis moved to the side of the bed and stopped short, deliberating. 'Was he debating shooting me now or later. I looked for signs of trouble, like a gun being pulled out from the back of his jeans. I saw something I wasn't meant to see. I watch movies, I've seen cases like this play out in court and I know such intrusion can lead to one's death. With a movement that was too fast for my bruised brain to analyze, He sat next to me and rushed his hand to my face. In instinct, I gasped and recoiled from him. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice notably softer. But It was too late. the tears had sprung to my eyes. "I’m fine really," I said in answer to the increased concern on his face. I wiped the tears as soon as they escaped my eyes. "This is stupid. I don’t know why I’m crying." "I do," he mumbled resentfully, his jaw tightening. "Does your head still hurt?" he asked. "No," I lied, the strain in my voice betraying me. "I don't think so," he said. "I’ll get you something for the pain." Before I could refuse, he was out the door. He came back almost immediately and gave me two little white pills and a large glass of water. The water was liquid gold to my eyes. My mouth tasted like I've been licking sawdust for days. As for the mystery pills, I hesitated and glanced up. He folded his arms. "It’s still really early and you need to get more rest. The pills will help with the pain so you can get some sleep." He stood there, watching me like I was a mental patient, ensuring that the crazy girl took her pills. I needed to get some answers, starting with what I thought I knew, seemed like a good idea. "You are Hollis, my Hollis?" I asked, needing to be sure he was the same man I met at Fairview. I know he had a dark and dangerous edge to him, just never knew it would be this deep. "Your Hollis, yes." He repeated, choosing that phrase instead. We watched each other while I took two large gulps of water to make sure that my throat was open to choke down the drugs. He sat next to me. "What do you remember from last night?" He asked me. Color rushed to my face. "Is this where I tell you that I don’t remember anything?" I blurted again. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I wished I had spent more time thinking about the weight of his question and coming up with a response that wouldn’t get me killed. "No," he said without blinking, "this is where you tell me the truth." I took my time swallowing the first pill and my tears. "That man, what did he do to deserve what you did to him?" I needed him to tell me that the man hadn’t been just some random man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That only bad people got killed by him and that girls like me didn’t get killed just because they witnessed a murder. His face hardened. "You assume that the man was blameless." This wasn’t a question. He had read what had been lingering in my mind. "He isn't innocent. Justice was served." "He’s dead, isn’t he?" "What does it matter?" He said. "It’s not like you knew him." I closed my eyes, which forced the tears to drop down my cheeks. Then the words came drooling out before I had time to process them. "His family will never know what happened to him, and they’ll spend the rest of their lives wondering what they could have done to change things. There doesn’t seem to be much justice in that." I fearfully braced myself for the blows that would come next. When I felt his fingers quickly brush my damp cheek, I opened my eyes. There was no anger on Hollis's face. But his eyes were appraising. I cleared my throat to cut through the pain in my chest, and I swallowed my second pill. My fingers tingled. The first pill was already working its magic. Whatever I was chugging down, it was potent. "Hollis," I said, "what exactly am I supposed to be doing for you?" "You’ll rest and recover for now." "And after?" He smiled. "We'll work through the rest together." "You have a brother?" I probed again, my head falling into the pillow. "Yes." His stare was unwavering while my eyelids were getting heavy. I was fading fast. "I am the breadwinner, sort of. I take care of my family. Now that I can't do that, will they be taken care of." I drowsily continued. Hollis pulled the glass out of my numbed hands and set it on the table next to me. "As long as I live, your family will never lack anything." He replied. "And what are you going to do with me, while I'm here." This came out as a whisper. My eyes were barely slit open. Hollis paused on this question. He scanned my face, like the answer was written somewhere there. "I will fulfill all your wildest dreams and tick all the right boxes, the dark and dangerous way." Those were the last words I heard before I blanked-out. I wasn't sure he said those. Maybe my mind made it all up. That would be the only explanation because how could he come up with the dark and dangerous phrase if I hadn't told him.The next time I woke up, the sun was already setting. I was feeling better, rested, though my joints and muscles ached from the lack of movement. As for the bump on my head, it was only sensitive to touch. there was no more throbbing. The bedroom door had been left open. As soon as the smell of food tickled my nose, my stomach grumbled. The last meal I had eaten was the vegetable sauce my mother made specially for me. How long ago was that? My brain was still too foggy to count back the hours or the days. The thought of my mother sent chills down my spine. I haven't heard from my parents and I knew they would be worried sick. Letting my stomach do the thinking, I got out of bed and shuffled to the door barefooted. The only source of light came from the other end of the hall. I passed a small, white-tiled foyer and what looked like a front door, or a way to escape. The door had five different locks on it. I kept going while I tried to calculate how long it would take me to g
I was awakened by the distant sound of the television. Immediately I opened my eyes, I saw Maxine cropped up on a chair at the end of the room. "Welcome back to the land of the living," he muttered. "Where are we?" I croaked, sitting up on the bed and surveying the empty room that had only a bed and a television. Maxine stretched his arms, and sighed. "Home, The Garden." "Thank God." I sighed, before realizing what he meant. "You mean your home is referred to as The Garden?" "Mhmm." He hummed. "Gross." I spat out. "It's a good name." He stood up. "Hollis totally owe me for this." He murmured and left the room, not even saying a goodbye or any other word. My throat felt raw, and my body, emotionally exhausted. I could feel dark isolation seeping through the room like deep depression. I just wanted to go home, to go shopping, boat cruises, clubhouses and the courtroom. I wanted my life back. But even I know I couldn't. Not with the continuous attempt on my life and
Rocco and I followed the overly large corridor and came to the foot of the stairs. We climbed the stairs quietly. He kept mute all through while I hung my head low, tired and withdrawn. We made it through the double rows of stairs and came to a closed door. Rocco placed his thumb in a scanner placed beside the wall and the door clicked open. When he closed it behind me, he tried to flash a smile but decided against it. Maybe because It didn't seem like I was interested. "The door is bulletproof," he told me. But I didn't respond. We passed through a quiet, smaller, short corridor and came to another closed door. He punched a couple of numbers, and just like the other one, the door opened up again, and we stepped into the most lovely sitting room I've ever set my eyes on. I don’t know what I thought the home of a man like Hollis would be like. But this was definitely the real definition of wealth. It was homey. I guess I thought a man like him would be all about that awful, in
I moved past the bed to the far end of the room and saw an explicit and carefully painted image of Einstein. Perfect and looking original. That alone was proof that Hollis was a lover of art. Everything about the painting was soothing to my spirit. Done with a general survey of the bedroom, I walked over to the bathroom. A low groan of satisfaction shot through me because it was the bathroom of my dreams with its glass shower enclosure with multiple shower heads as well as a bathtub at one end. The sleek design, modern-looking accessories, and perfect lighting made me gasp in appraisal. The interior decorator deserves everything beautiful. The thoughtful ensemble all came together to give the space a sexy look. A look that I haven't even seen in movies before. The oval moss-green bathtub was to the side of the space. Same as the double sink vanities. Even the sinks themselves and the toilet were the same color as the bathtub. Everything looked so perfect, enchanting, and invi
"That's your bed. I'm yet to see mine." I said, voice rough. That damn brow of his arched again, and I decided it was a condescending movement. And I hated him even more for it. "It's your bed, too, now," he said, shrugging. "I'd rather sleep on the floor," I grumbled. Hollis ignored me. "I'm sure you have some questions." He started, taking a seat on his part of the bed. "I'm here to answer all of them." "Beautiful," I mumbled. "What are my clothes doing in there?" I pointed to the closet door." "Ugo, sit down on the bed, let's talk. You can't sit on the floor." I hesitated. "Come on....... you don't have to be mad at me forever. I'll tell you anything you want. But first, you need to sit down here." He tapped the bed, making a sound. "Fair enough," I said and slowly stood up from the floor. I went over to the other side of the bed that was meant to be mine and sat down, facing the wall, with an enormous space between us. "So...." I waited. "I had to protect you. Part of the
"What about the victim's husband?" "Dead." "His lover that you spoke about?" "Dead." "This Frick of a guy." "He'll be dead soon." "God, he deserves it for putting me in this mess. I was just a pawn in his stupid game." "I'll make sure to squeeze out an apology from him before killing him. Do you want that?" Surprisingly, I nodded before recollecting what my nod meant. "I....... I don't mean it like......" "You'll have it, Ugo. Anything you wish. Don't feel sorry about a thing. You want something, own up to it. Now sit on the bed." I pulled myself up on the bed hurriedly. "So what now?" My voice was low, all that anger thrown a thousand miles away. "Do you still think I did the wrong thing having you here with me?" He waited. I shook my head, "I don't know." "That's a better answer." He said. "I know you still have more questions, but I think we've had enough for today." I honestly agreed with him. I've had enough for one day. One more revelation from him, and I might ju
"The plane would obviously have other passengers, innocent people. Bombing it would mean spilling a lot of blood and it would attract the media." I said looking at both brothers."Yes, it will." Maxine agreed, speaking for the first time since I entered the room."But the media might be unable to get anything tangible since the location of the bombing would put the plane in the sea." Hollis added."Yes, true." I agreed. "But what if the transporters like you call them are not carrying a lot of molly. Let's look at it this way, from your conversation, you said there will be a few transporters on the plane. Now these transporters will only carry a few kilogram of Molly at a time. When you get the possible figures of the transporters and get the amount of Molly they are carrying, do you think it would be worth bombing the plane for that amount of Molly.""Good point." Hollis hummed. "So, what better alternative do you have?""If you really need to stop the transporters, you could identif
"How old are you, Hollis." I wondered aloud as we walked into a den. "This is where the guards hang out when they’re not working," he explained. The space had everything to keep overgrown children entertained. A stocked kitchen, ping-pong and pool table, a big screen Television, and a wall of movies and video games. It also had patio doors that opened up onto a pool outside. "Are you avoiding my question on purpose?" I put it to him. "What. Oh, I’m thirty," he answered, distracted. We made our way down another hallway. "Some of the night guards sleep in here," he whispered, pointing at the bedroom doors that were closed. I could hear off-tempo snoring and wheezing through the door. At the end of the hall was a room, housing a fully equipped gym with windows that looked out onto the pool. There were two men in the middle of the room and a large opened box next to them. "It’s a high-speed treadmill," Hollis announced. "I had the room fixed up as a gym and some of the extra