look.
I’m pretty damn sure I know what I’m going to see when I look. But seeing it there, for real, right in front of me, an actual confirmation that this whole crazy situation is real, means that I have to make decisions.
Everything will change. I will change. I already have.
When I was a little girl, I believed in happily ever after. I believed that one day I would fall in love with my Prince Charming, and he would protect me from all the evils in the world. That I could live in my own little bubble without having to worry about anything other than the man of my dreams treating me like the princesses are treated in fairy tales. I held on to that ideal for as long as I could but when life happens, you quickly come to realise that the only fairy tales that exist are on paper, in story books. There is no such thing as Prince Charming, and if you want to have a good life, you have to make it for yourself. When I first met Damien, I let a really tiny part of me believe that there might just be some truth in the old tales. Well, if this is what fairy tales are really made of, I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it. I would rather be alone. Only now the chances are, I might not be alone at all.
I mutter a curse under my breath for being so cowardly, and not just facing this head on. For all I know those sticks could have the answer I do want, as opposed to the one that scares the life out of me. So I grab the box out of my bag and pull the end open, tipping both plastic sticks out in to my shaking palm. The noise around me quiets, even the sea seems to stop moving for a moment. I take a deep breath and turn them both over so the windows are looking up at me.
Two little lines.
Oh. shit.
After trying to talk me out of my idea, Harley realised it was a losing battle. I might still have a monster hangover due to my self-abuse, but today has been a day of clarity compared to the last month. I know the only way to move on is to put things right. There is a person out there that might have no idea what they did to my sister. They could be sitting in their castle right now totally oblivious to the pain and suffering they have caused. Well, I’d feel better if there’s a little bit of justice here. A better balance if you like. Equilibrium.
After putting a little pressure on the guy who has previously supplied me with illegal substances, he pointed me in the direction of The Cabin’s owner, Julian Price. I’ve been waiting in the café across the road from The Cabin for the last hour and a half. I have mindlessly drank three coffees that have given me the caffeine shakes, which on top of the adrenaline pumping around my body, makes me feel dangerous, and I fucking love it. It’s a precarious replacement for the self-pity I’ve been wallowing in for the last month.
A sleek Jaguar pulls in to the alley by the club. The same alley where I was with Megan. For a second her pretty face flashes across my mind, her moans echoing in the alley, her long, painted nails digging hard in my skin. It sends a stabbing feeling of both regret and passion into my gut, which I shake off and try to focus on the reason I’m here. I jump up from my window seat and exit the café, throwing a ten pound note on the counter to cover my coffees as I leave. In just a few seconds I’m at the entrance to the alley and I slow my pace and soften my footsteps. The door of the Jag pops open and out steps Julian Price. Slimy fucker. He’s at least four inches shorter than me and skinnier in build. He’s dressed in a designer grey suit, with one sleeve pulled up just enough so that you can see the flashy Rolex on his wrist, and he wears a chunky tasteless gold chain around that scrawny neck of his. I stay out of his line of sight and watch as he fumbles around with a leather briefcase before clicking the fob to lock the car behind him. As he puts his keys in the club door, I start to run, covering ground fast and coming up behind him. He looks over
I’m pretty damn sure I know what I’m going to see when I look. But seeing it there, for real, right in front of me, an actual confirmation that this whole crazy situation is real, means that I have to make decisions.
Everything will change. I will change. I already have.
When I was a little girl, I believed in happily ever after. I believed that one day I would fall in love with my Prince Charming, and he would protect me from all the evils in the world. That I could live in my own little bubble without having to worry about anything other than the man of my dreams treating me like the princesses are treated in fairy tales. I held on to that ideal for as long as I could but when life happens, you quickly come to realise that the only fairy tales that exist are on paper, in story books. There is no such thing as Prince Charming, and if you want to have a good life, you have to make it for yourself. When I first met Damien, I let a really tiny part of me believe that there might just be some truth in the old tales. Well, if this is what fairy tales are really made of, I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it. I would rather be alone. Only now the chances are, I might not be alone at all.
I mutter a curse under my breath for being so cowardly, and not just facing this head on. For all I know those sticks could have the answer I do want, as opposed to the one that scares the life out of me. So I grab the box out of my bag and pull the end open, tipping both plastic sticks out in to my shaking palm. The noise around me quiets, even the sea seems to stop moving for a moment. I take a deep breath and turn them both over so the windows are looking up at me.
Two little lines.
Oh. shit.
After trying to talk me out of my idea, Harley realised it was a losing battle. I might still have a monster hangover due to my self-abuse, but today has been a day of clarity compared to the last month. I know the only way to move on is to put things right. There is a person out there that might have no idea what they did to my sister. They could be sitting in their castle right now totally oblivious to the pain and suffering they have caused. Well, I’d feel better if there’s a little bit of justice here. A better balance if you like. Equilibrium.
After putting a little pressure on the guy who has previously supplied me with illegal substances, he pointed me in the direction of The Cabin’s owner, Julian Price. I’ve been waiting in the café across the road from The Cabin for the last hour and a half. I have mindlessly drank three coffees that have given me the caffeine shakes, which on top of the adrenaline pumping around my body, makes me feel dangerous, and I fucking love it. It’s a precarious replacement for the self-pity I’ve been wallowing in for the last month.
A sleek Jaguar pulls in to the alley by the club. The same alley where I was with Megan. For a second her pretty face flashes across my mind, her moans echoing in the alley, her long, painted nails digging hard in my skin. It sends a stabbing feeling of both regret and passion into my gut, which I shake off and try to focus on the reason I’m here. I jump up from my window seat and exit the café, throwing a ten pound note on the counter to cover my coffees as I leave. In just a few seconds I’m at the entrance to the alley and I slow my pace and soften my footsteps. The door of the Jag pops open and out steps Julian Price. Slimy fucker. He’s at least four inches shorter than me and skinnier in build. He’s dressed in a designer grey suit, with one sleeve pulled up just enough so that you can see the flashy Rolex on his wrist, and he wears a chunky tasteless gold chain around that scrawny neck of his. I stay out of his line of sight and watch as he fumbles around with a leather briefcase before clicking the fob to lock the car behind him. As he puts his keys in the club door, I start to run, covering ground fast and coming up behind him. He looks over
Similar Books
