Chapter 43
Penelope
Miguel is Charles.
Charles is Miguel.
One and the same, he is still my worst nightmare. And I am his prisoner.
I stare through the glass wall at Mirabelle and can’t help feeling sorry for her. I don’t know how she got involved with the monster who controls both of our lives, but I have a feeling she is another one of his victims. Only the hold he has over her has shaped her into the monster she is.
I know without a doubt that she wants to kill me. Just as I know she can’t get through that glass or into this room. Miguel made sure of it.
For me to be free of him, I need her help, and even knowing she hates me and wants me dead, I have no other options.
Miguel will never let me go, and he’ll never give me the option to escape. Mirabelle is all the hope I have. Even if my life hangs in the balance, it’s a chance I have to take.
Damien doesn’t know where I am, and he’ll be pissed to find out Miguel and Mirabelle are both alive and well. I have to survive this. I have to get away and warn him.
“You’ll never get the chance as long as he is alive.” I turn my back on her and walk toward the mattress on the floor. I take my time straightening the blankets before sitting down and tucking my legs under my chin to stare back at her.
There isn’t a whole lot of light, so I can’t make out the look on her face from this far, but I’m hoping my nonchalant attitude is pissing her off. I want her to believe I think I’m safe all because of Miguel. He is the only thing standing inbetween her and me, not some shatterproof glass and a locked door.
“If I wanted, I bet I could make him send you away. Do you think he would trade you for me?” I ask only to prey on her insecurities. She hates Miguel almost as much as I do, but there is a deeper bond between the two of them. How long has she been his victim?
“He would never do that. I’m his most loyal pet.”
“Like a dog? We had one of those once. He took it out back and shot it.” I hate goading her like this, but I can’t help it. It’s the only way to break down her defenses.
She flinches, but her eyes never leave me, and I know if it weren’t for the glass separating us, I would be dead already.
“You don’t know him,” she tells me in a calculated voice and shakes her head. The way her body shakes, it’s almost like she’s barely holding on.
If I keep pushing, will she snap?
“I know him, Mirabelle. Almost as well as you do. Tell me, when did you become his? How old were you?” I stare back at her, but she doesn’t react. “He’s been part of my existence since I was a year old. Do you know how old I am now? I bet you do, and if you do the math—”
“You. Do. Not. Know. Him,” she seethes, and I know in this moment that I have her exactly where I want her.
“The mole on his inner left thigh; it is shaped like the state of Florida.” She flinches again. This time, her stare wavers. “And when he comes, he makes this gurgling sound in the back of his throat, like he’s about to fall into a coughing fit.” Another direct hit. She mewls before her legs give out and she falls softly to the ground. “You want me to believe we have nothing in common, that we are nothing alike, but believing that is believing a lie. I’m not his pet. I’m not even his daughter. My mother gave birth to me long before he enterd our lives. I’m one of his victims. He may not have fucked me, Mirabelle, thank God, but don’t kid yourself. You’re no more special than the toilet he takes his morning shits in.”
She closes her eyes, opens her mouth, and emits a long and loud gut-wrenching wail. My heart cracks, but I hold my demeanor because at this point, when her world is crumbling around her, I need to show strength. For both of us.
“Now is the time, Mirabelle, to take back what he took from you all those years ago.” I stand and walk toward her. When I reach the glass, I slide down to her level and place my hand on the glass. She reaches her hand out, too, placing it directly in front of mine. We sit palm to palm, separated by a pane of glass. Worlds apart but a lifetime together.
“I can’t,” she says and looks up at me. Her emerald eyes are the lightest I’ve ever seen them, and as the tears slide down her cheeks, I wish I weren’t the one forcing her to confront her darkest demon tonight. “He’s too strong.”
“You’re stronger.”
“I’ve tried,” she admits, and her body trembles. “He always wins.”
“So, don’t let him.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“The gun,” I whisper, knowing she can hear me and he can, too, if he is listening in. “Where is it?”
“In the safe.”
“Is it a key or code?” If it’s a key, we’re screwed. I doubt Miguel would let a key out of his sight. A code on the other hand…
“It’s a code. Six digits.” My heart soars, and hope blossoms, but I do my best to keep it hidden.
“Do you know it?”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know I do,” she admits. The change in her whole demeanor is strange. This version of Mirabelle is almost likable, and if I didn’t know about the things she has done, I’d want to be her friend.
“Well, there you go,” I offer, sitting up straight. Our hands hold steady on the glass, like we are somehow connected through it.
“You want me to shoot him?”
“I want you to be free of him.”
“We both will be,” she states, wiping away the last of her tears. I nod and swallow. It’s true, but there’s no telling what state Mirabelle will be in once he is gone from our lives. Will she still be hell-bent on killing me, or will she finally be free of everything keeping her a victim, too? His existence keeps her from harming me, but this is a chance I must take.
“Where is he?”
“He was upstairs. I’m supposed to ready you for him, but he’s still healing from the injury he got during the raid. He sleeps a lot, and he’s a light sleeper…” she trails off.
“I know. Will he come looking for you?”
“No, there’s no need. He has cameras installed throughout the building.” She looks up, and I see the red blinking light of an almost hidden camera. “It streams to his laptop.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t take the chance.” I swallow, feeling a new round of nerves hit me. He could be watching now. But this could be the only shot I get at escape. Pretending like I care for her, I press my hand harder into the glass. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She nods, but there’s a new determination in her eyes, fueled by the promise of freedom and a world without him in it.
“No, you’re right.” She shifts and pulls her hand away from the glass, breaking our connection. My heart skips a beat and begins to pound hard in my chest. It feels so loud, I wonder if she can hear it. “I have to do it. We’ll never be free of him if I don’t. He doesn’t deserve to live another day.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful.” I shiver as a feeling of dread settles in my chest. She’s too easygoing about what I’m asking her to do. “Have you ever…”
“Not on purpose,” she answers without hesitation. It’s like she knew the question before I gathered the nerve to ask it. I find her answer unsettling. “The girls never last for long. My demands and boundaries are far too great for them to handle. Well, all but one. Svetlana, the ugly bitch, handled everything I gave her and more. But like all the rest, she eventually broke.”
I try not to react, but I can’t help the gasp that slips from my lips. Svetlana was the woman Damien convinced her to take that first night.
Mirabelle takes a step back, ready to take on the devil upstairs. I close my mouth, watching as she stops momentarily at the door. She turns to me with a gleam in her eyes, and I know I’m in for a fight at the end of all of this.
“It’s a shame we’ll never know if you would’ve been able to handle me.” She smiles sardonically before continuing. “Although seeing you broken would have been a glorious moment.”
She turns away quickly and leaves the room.
I swallow hard, trying to shake off the sick feeling she’s left me with. Is she trying to get a rise out of me? Or was she trying to tell me something?
Either way, it didn’t sound good.
I close my eyes, pushing away the emotions her words put in my body. If I have to fight her for my life after all of this, so be it.
As long as she keeps her word and rids us both of Miguel.