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How much my pleasure would mean to me.
Despite my family, I’d always be expendable to Harold. Useful to make a deal and to fuck, maybe even to add some more kids to his family, and then I’d just be another inconvenience. Another mill stone to his plans. And when another offer came his way, he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of me. Likely with a bullet to the head.
A tear slid silently down my cheek, mimicking the condensation on the window.
I left them to fall.
None of it mattered anymore.
TWENTY-TWO
ALEC
The bus pulled into the terminal a few stations over, but we couldn’t afford to keep still when the police would undoubtedly hunt for the car’s owner. Thankfully, the roadside hotel was shitty enough that it didn’t seem to have CCTV, which would hamper their search until they tracked down that it’s my hire car.
‘Come on,’ I said as we stepped off of the bus, linking my arm through Esther’s left arm, still bound to her belt loop at her waist and guiding her quickly away from the other people and back onto the open road.
‘We can’t walk to Barcelona.’ She tried to yank herself away from me before digging her heels into the floor when I wouldn’t let her go.
‘We’ve hardly got any money left thanks to your fucking with any means I had of getting more.’
‘I know my card details...’ she said.
‘Your Dad has cut you off. You no longer have card details.’
Like a belligerent donkey, she refused to move. If I had to drag her every step, I would.
I pulled her along beside me, her shoes kicking up dry dirt as she tussled against me. Gritting my teeth, I kept moving until she had no choice but to give in and walk reluctantly beside me.
Tyres crunched on the road beside us, and I felt the intake of breath in her chest against my arm before she could make a sound. Her mouth opened, ready to scream out at the passing vehicle, but I turned us away from the road and clamped a hand over her lips.
‘Try any of that shit and I’ll start taking fingers. Harold won’t give a fuck as long as you still have a mouth and your pretty pussy to use.’
It was harsh, but I needed her to stop the fighting. I was exhausted. Drained. Angry. The job was feeling like I should have charged a lot more money for it. She was proving a difficult charge. I’d never had anyone get up in my head before, and it made being the harsh, no fuss, torture laden enforcer near on impossible. I didn’t want to torture Esther. I didn’t even want to bring her back to Harold. I just wanted to get on with my life, and be financially independent so that I could pick and choose the jobs I did. Or maybe find something else to do entirely. There had to be something else I could be good at. I’d seen the way things played out for guys like me. We were useful until we weren’t, then we ended up washed up without work, or worse, dead. Torturing people on your boss’s behalf didn’t exactly ingratiate you to the other criminal networks around.
She sniffled as I let go of her mouth once the car was well out of sight and continued on down the road.
‘I know you have to take me home to do your job,’ she said after a few minutes of walking in silence. ‘But please, just give me as much time as you can before we go back. It’s going to be horrific, and I’m scared.’
I steeled myself against her words, but they still left sharp little stabs of pain in my chest. She was tenacious, passionate and stronger than I’d ever expected and hearing her pain sucked. Knowing I was the one hauling her back there sucked even more.
‘We have little money. What else can we do? I need to get to the city and contact your father so he can sort out some new flights and some money. We don’t have the means to take longer.’
‘You could still just let me go.’
‘And what will you do? You’ve been spoiled your entire life. You’ve never needed for anything. You’ve never had to scrimp to get by or struggle alone. You have always had a family to watch your back and support your lifestyle. Do you really think you’d last out here on your own? You’re just a spoiled mafia princess with no clue.’
Those green eyes burned into me as she stopped walking and stared at me.
‘You don’t know me at all, do you?’
‘I’ve been around you enough to have seen it.’
‘You saw what you wanted to see. I’ve never wanted that lifestyle. I hate it. I hate that we are constantly under threat because of the things our fathers do. I have been promised to a man that killed my mother and okayed my brother’s death. And everyone thinks that’s fucking fine. They’d all come to our wedding and toast to a long and happy marriage, despite knowing that I was going to be hurt every fucking day with him. They all know who he is and what he does. They know that I’m younger than his son, but no-one cares. My own father has promised me to him. Do you know how much that hurts? I’d rather struggle and starve that have that be my life. He’ll impregnate me and then I’ll be forced to watch him mentally torture my kids, probably physically torture them too. And what? He’d never let me take them. He’d never let me leave. His last wife got away and had to abandon her children to do it. I don’t want that life. I want to be happy, to be with a man who adores me and to have children that are loved. Treasured. I may have been brought up with privilege, but what has it gained me? Nothing but misery.’
I let her spill her words out, fast and tumbling and thick with emotion. Each one striking against me anew. Making me hate myself a bit more. My arms itched to wrap around her, to comfort her and tell her it would be okay. But it wouldn’t be okay. So I did the opposite and added fuel to her fire.
‘At least you have a family. No ones cared about me since I was four years old. You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t give in to your pity party. Lots of people have shitty marriages to shitty people.’
