I need to clear my thoughts and the only way to do this right now is to try and get some rest. With that in mind, I take a deep breath and talk to my nemesis in a calm and controlled voice.
“You cannot expect me to just give you an answer right now, Trent. This is more than I can handle right now. It’s too much to process and I need to think. I need more information than, ‘oh, I have a plan and we are going disappear with millions of dollars in our pockets.’ It doesn’t work like that. Have you thought about where we would go, and what we would do with all of that money? This isn’t the movies; you can’t just hop on a plane with millions of dollars in a suitcase and head for the nearest island. And what about my family? Do you have any idea what this has to be doing to them right now? You say you were deprived of a loving home, and I cannot even begin to fathom what that must be like, but I wasn’t. You say you have watched me for years? So then you know how much my family means to me and how much I mean to them.”
He looks up at me with suspicion, but I see a gleam of hope deep in his eyes.
“What exactly are you saying, Clove?”
What I’m saying is that you have your head so far up your damn ass that you will most likely get all of us killed with this preposterous game you’re playing, I think to myself. What I say out loud is,
“You have given me a lot to think about. I just feel like I need to know more of what you are thinking. I mean, stop and think about everything you just told me, Trent. Are you planning to go waltzing into wherever it is we are going and just point a gun at your dad and kill him? He doesn’t seem the type of person to be taken out so easily. And how do you really think you are going to get your hands on the money? I mean come on, you and Turner’s fingerprints don’t even match, for God’s sake. How in the hell do you think my brother found out who you were?”
“So you know I have a rap sheet. So what?” He shrugs. “It’s all petty crimes, mostly stealing food when I fucking needed it because my dad would be too damn drunk or too fucked up on drugs to notice there wasn’t any around. The only time we ever had food in our house would be when one of his whores would come over and feel sorry for the scrawny ass kid who was starving half to death. Back then I didn’t have a damn choice but to try and take care of myself, but now I do. Somehow, some way, I am going to get that money. My only wish is that once I have it, you will come along with me for the ride of a lifetime, Clove.”
I stand there fighting the urge to actually commit a crime for the first time in my life and choke the hell out of him.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Trent,” I say, glaring daggers at him. “I can’t deal with this half-assed plan of yours anymore. I need to get some sleep and we will talk about this in the morning.”
“You’re right; I haven’t fully planned this out. The only thing I do know for sure is that I am not giving you up. No fucking way, not when I finally have you. I have never had any kind of beauty in my entire fucked up life, and I knew once I had a taste of you, I would not be able to let you go.”
He stands and points his finger at me.
“So. Either we figure this out together and you come away with me, or, after I get my hands on that money, and trust me I will get my hands on it, I will kill my brother. The choice is yours. Now, since you’re so adamant and I can’t trust you . . .”
He bends down and scoops his bag up off the floor, striding in my direction. I watch in horrid fascination as he pulls out a pair of handcuffs and securely snaps one of the manacles shut around my wrist.
“What are you doing?” I half shriek as he secures the other one to his own wrist.
“I may have confessed a lot of shit to you, Clove, and I am just as ready as you are for a good night’s sleep, but I’m not a fool.”
He lifts our now joined hands.
“This is my way of making sure you don’t decide to skip out on me while we sleep.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Lying flat on my back shackled to a loudly snoring Trent was not my idea of rest, I must say. I may as well try and come up with some sort of plan. The only thing I can think of is to somehow contact my brother and hope he can find us in time. That’s it; there is nothing else I can do. But how? How am I going to be able to get away from this psycho when he watches my every move?
If I am not able to reach my family, will James kill us both if or when he realizes his plan isn’t going to work? Of course he will; to think he won’t is foolish. Once he figures out that neither Turner nor I will help them, he will have no further use for either one of us. And if James figures out that Trent is planning on double-crossing him, God only knows what will happen.
Speaking of Trent, what about his ‘obsession’ with me, as he calls it? If I don’t go along with him willingly he will kill Turner out of pure spite, I have no doubt about it. This shit is more fucked up than I could ever have imagined.
If Trent hates his father as much as he said he does, why didn’t he just show up at our doorstep, or even Melody’s, and tell us who he was? God, all of this could have been avoided and he could have had his money and a family who would have loved him more than anything. So the question of the fucking day is, why the hell is he really doing this? These thoughts circle around and around in my mind until I finally feel myself drift off to sleep.
************
The sun is already up and shining; my eyes open to the bright light pouring through the crack of the drapes. I go to stretch and try to lift my arms when the clink of a metal chain reminds me that I am still cuffed to Trent.
I nudge him hard to wake him up.
“Good morning,” he says huskily.
Fuck him and his good morning. It’s anything but a good morning. It’s another day in hell for me.
“I have to pee. Can you uncuff me, please?”
He says nothing, but reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out the key. My wrist feels tight and numb when he drops it to my lap after unlocking the cuffs. My free hand automatically goes to rub it and to try to bring back the blood flow.
Hoisting myself out of bed, I gather my bag up off the floor and make my way into the bathroom. When I go to lock the door, I hesitate as I remember him telling me to keep it unlocked.
I spend as little time in the bathroom as possible, brushing my hair and pulling it into a ponytail, then getting dressed in my last pair of clean shorts and an oversized t-shirt. I stuff the knife back in my bag underneath my dirty clothes. I brush my teeth and stow everything back into the bag.
When I step out into the room, Trent is on the phone talking quietly. I toss my bag onto the bed and sit on the edge. My ears perk up as I hear him say we will be there later this afternoon. Where is ‘there,’ I wonder? Is it where Turner is?
The possibility of being able to see him today brightens my gloomy mood even though I have no idea what kind of state he is going to be in when I get there. The only thing that matters to me at this moment is being able to finally see him with my own eyes. So when I hear Trent finally ending his call, I stand and direct my attention to him. He slips a worn out gray t-shirt over his head and then bends down to retrieve his shoes.
“I just need to use the bathroom and brush my teeth and then we are out of here,” he states, and rummages through his bag for his toothbrush and paste.
He marches past me avoiding any contact, and I sense his mood has dampened as he strides with purpose into the bathroom, leaving the door open.
Taking a seat at the small, round table he just vacated, my bottom feels something hard as I sit. When I reach underneath me to see what it is. It’s his phone! My hands shake as I stare blankly at the screen. I slide my finger across the screen and try to open it. Shit, shit, shit! He has it locked.