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“I take your request as an acceptance, simply because you gave in to my demands, as I ordered you to. If you remember correctly, for everything you do for me, I will reward you.”
My heart sinks, bringing back memories of that blackmail scene from the past, like it happened yesterday.
I refuse to say anything more and storm out of the kitchen, heading straight to the closet. I grab a change of clothes and start packing my suitcase.
“You don't need to take anything with you. We can buy whatever you need.”
“I don't want anything from you.”
“Hurry up! I can't stand another second in this filthy apartment,” he looks around with a disgusted expression, and I roll my eyes.
Masse and his freakin' cleanliness obsession.
“I just want to change, I push him out and slam the door shut.”
I'm scared that I'll fall into another one of his traps. But what if he's right and my mom is actually alive? What if there's hope to save her?
As I step out of the room, I realize Manasseh is nowhere to be seen. He's gone, and if I didn't see the ashes on the floor, I'd probably think I imagined the whole thing.
I stay put and try to think about what I'll do if he comes back for me and what I'll do if my mom is really with him. I have nothing to offer him in return, just me, and it seems like that's what he wants. I'll find a way to get rid of him once I have my mom back, and then we'll have to vanish again.
“Rebecca Godwill?”
“Do you think my place is a freaking train station? Who the heck are you? I snap, annoyed, and toss my bag that I usually use for my gym stuff.
“The driver. Mr. Manasseh is waiting for you in the car.”
“Of course he has a driver!” I grimace and grab my bag, following the man.
I lock the door and get into the car. Manasseh is waiting for me in the back, looking quite impatient as he taps his foot and blows smoke out of the half-opened window like some damn chimney, but a handsome one.
“First, we're gonna go see your mom. Is that okay? he suddenly sounds calmer, and it unsettles me.
It's just the cigarettes, I reassure myself and shake my head slightly.
“Yeah,” I look out the window and try to ignore his presence.
I tighten my grip on the string of my sports bag, feeling extremely uncomfortable in this luxurious car.
“And then we're heading home,” he keeps insisting on that topic, but I don't bother arguing.
I try to tune him out during the entire ride, but I steal glances at him. I realize, with a quick side glance, that Manasseh has transformed into a full-on man over these five years. However, this maturity is only maintained in appearance, in terms of physicality, because in terms of character, he's remained just as unpleasant as ever. It's like he's a wolf in sheep's clothing, pretending to be something he's not.
“You've been staring at me a lot, considering you used to cut me out of all the group photos.”
“Don't flatter yourself.”
“I'm still a misfit to you, huh? I get it.”
“Don't even bother.” I refuse to look at him or talk to him.
“You better stop sulking so much, or I'll give you a real reason to have a swollen lip, and it won't be because of disappointment. I'll make sure you enjoy it, or... no,” he shifts in his seat, moving his pelvis, trying to act all provocative.
I frown and swallow dryly, then gently rub my lips together, discreetly glancing at the driver, who remains silent, not even casting a curious glance.
The clinic where he assumes my mother is located is extremely luxurious.
“Why isn't she at your place?” I question, my voice filled with tension.
