Fuck. Everything hurts.
My head is pounding, and my blood is thumping in my ears to a rhythm only it knows. I scrunch my eyes even tighter to try and alleviate the pain. I try to bring my hands up, only to find them bound behind my back. Something sharp cuts into my wrists which only makes me pull on them even more. Fear slithers into my veins as I snap my eyes open and blink a few times to clear the stars dancing around my lids, only to be greeted by relative darkness. I candidly make out four walls and a closed door, the window is too high to see out of, and damp splintered wood floor cuts into my legs through my tights. The pain, the splintering wood tearing at my skin only reminds me of past trauma. I try to shuffle slightly to ease away from the shards of wood, but I only come in to contact with the wall, and fear turns to downright terrified. The yellowed, peeling paper hangs in strips around the room and holes in the ceiling give way for the frigid wind to blast in. A lightbulb hangs in the center of the room, casting it in a dirty yellow hue. Long dead moths and flies glitter against the bulb, and stark reality sets deep in my core. My head spins even more and the bile rising in my stomach is eager to get out as it burns up my throat. I swallow to wash it down; this place smells bad enough as it is. I know who’s behind this. Maybe I had been naïve in believing they wouldn’t take it this far. How was I supposed to know my mother would have these types of connections? Images of my destroyed childhood and fucked up life dance on the wall before me, everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve, ruined. Why did I ever think I could get away from this? From her? I should have listened to Liam, but then she turned up, showing me exactly what his life had been like before me and giving me the perfect opening to keep mine. I lean my head back against the wall, shutting my eyes to stop the panic attack I know is imminent when the door bursts open. I gasp, and my eyes burst open even though I want nothing more than to keep them shut. I furrow my brow in confusion, narrowing my eyes at the three suited men who look too clean to be in a place like this. They look just like the men I work with daily. Clean shaven, designer suits and shiny shoes. The front man is even relatively good looking. Slicked back, jet black hair, piercing green eyes and a cigarette between his lips.
“Good, you’re awake” his dark, rough voice booms over the otherwise silence. Is this to do with my mother? What if it isn’t, and I’ve totally misread this whole situation? Confusion mares my already hay wired brain as I try to work out the best way to approach this. Do I feign innocence? Do I agree with everything they say? Do I scream for help in the hope that someone is out there? He takes one long drag on his cigarette, lighting the ember at the end into an orange orb, before flicking it to the floor. Crushing it under his shiny black wing tip shoes, he steps further into the room. The two men behind him don’t say a word but stay by the door. My survival instincts kick in and I sit straighter against the wall behind me. My hands ache in the way they’ve been bound and from my weight lying on them, but I refuse to show him that. I tilt my chin up in a show of strength, I can’t let him know he’s scaring me.
“What do you want?” I demand. A small laugh escapes his perfect lips as he circles the room, though I doubt he finds it funny.
“Amelia” his voice is almost a snicker, as if saying my name is painful for him, but hearing him say it slices a new wound into my heart. He says it filled with hate and spite, nothing like the way Liam does. The way Liam said it was filled with determination and lust, but this was dark and something nightmares where made of.
“I take it was you who trashed my flat too?” I accuse. Stopping suddenly, he comes to crouch in front of me. Tugging his trouser legs up before he does, his green eyes pierce my deep brown ones. Flashes of Liam’s baby blues come to mind as I resist the urge to look away. I shouldn’t be looking into his eyes tonight. I should be wrapped up, safe and warm in Liam’s arms, after another round of insane lust filled pleasure. But I’m not. I didn’t listen, and I didn’t let him know that I believed him, and this is my reality, my karma.
“We have someone very close to you” my insides shrivel up and I my mouth goes dry. I have no idea how long I’ve been out and it’s possible they got to the home, but he continues before I can even process what he’s just said. “She owes us a lot of money” The idea that it could be Gran evaporates and I instantly know he’s talking about my mother. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face at hearing his words. A loud laugh escapes me, and I can’t control it. I laugh and laugh until my stomach hurts and tears sting in my eyes. It bounces around the room, echoing in the quiet and I can’t seem to stop myself. Mr. Slick narrows his eyes at me and with a furrowed brow of confusion he stands.
“Bring her” he says before turning and leaving. One of his goons comes and grabs my elbow, tugging me none too gently off the floor.