Secrets | Watty Awards Winner 2013

Chapter 4

I retrace my steps from yesterday. Will's presence is disconcerting but I ignore it. I can feel his eyes following me, watching my every move. No matter how he spins it, he's here to protect me. I know it and I hate it.

Around three blocks out from the shop, we start seeing remnants of police tape. They drift and twist in the wind, forgotten once they had served their purpose.

When we finally get to the shop, it's still cordoned off. We can't enter it without disturbing the crime scene which hasn't been fully processed yet by the forensic investigators. I almost scoff at this. What do they expect to find? My attackers never got out of their car. They shot at me from outside. All that they left in the shop are bullets.

I steal another quick glance at the shop- or what's left of it. Glass and broken fragments of cheap souvenirs lie on the floor. All the windows have been shattered and the walls are so riddled with bullet-holes that this place will need to get a full renovation. I highly doubt the woman who owns it has enough money but I'm not worried about her. My father will repay her in full for all the damages- and more, considering how generous my father is.

Surprised by how far off-track my thoughts have gone, I shake my head and walk across the street to where I remember the car was when its occupants open-fired on me. There are tyre-marks on the road from when they accelerated to get away. I know the police have taken photographs of it but I also know that they won't get far with that piece of evidence. The model of car which the tyres belong to is too common for them to track any suspects down.

A few cars drive past the shop, slowing down so that they can take a better look of the crime scene. Some glance out of their windows at me curiously. I wouldn't be surprised if they recognised me, considering the number of times I've appeared in the news. Being the daughter of a millionaire mogul means that your name is splashed across the news whether you like it or not- and after my abduction, my name- and face- has been circulating the press more often than usual.

Standing on the side-walk, I close my eyes and shake all thoughts of my mind. I need to concentrate, focus.

Gradually, fragmented pieces of yesterday play back in my mind. I frown. No. I need more than that. I need to recall more- anything at all. It might trigger some other memory which might lead back to who is after me.

The car.

I chew my bottom lip. It was ordinary- a black sedan with clear windows.

That's no help. There has to be more to it than that.

I ball my hands into fists in frustration.

A sticker- in the top right-hand corner of the front window. A logo.

I struggle with the image. It's blurry in my mind but I know- I know I saw it. Maybe it's a rental barcode. Maybe it's a membership sticker. This could be imporant- it could be a lead.

It's a club logo. Red...

Then it dawns on me and my eyes fly open.

It's a Manchester United logo.

I take a deep breath and let it go in a frustrated scream. Manchester United- like that's going to get me anywhere.My attackers are fans of a well-known football club. Wow. This is such bull-

"This place is pretty smashed up."

Will's statement interrupts my train of thought and brings me back to reality. I scowl at him but his back is towards me as he faces the shop. When he turns around, his expression is blank.

"Great deduction, Sherlock," I say.

"Your father is hosting a charity ball in the city tonight," Will says, ignoring my comment. "He's asked me to make sure you attend."

His words are spoken firmly. I'm sure he has every intention of dragging me by my hair to tonight's snooze-fest, if it became necessary.

"Fine. I'll go," I reply but my eyes don't meet his.

"If you go tonight without giving me any grief, I promise that I'll help you get out of the next few engagements your father has planned for you," Will says.

My eyebrows rise up my forehead. I look at Will carefully but his face is still expressionless. His eyes are serious and I notice a faint scar just above a dark eyebrow. At the base of his neck, on his collarbone is black ink: a tattoo. Only the end of it peeks out from underneath his shirt so I can't make out what it is.

"My father wants me to go see a psychiatrist," I say flatly, tearing my eyes from Will's shoulders. My dark brown eyes meet his grey-blue ones. Will shrugs and I know that it's true.

"Your father's blonde-haired excuse of a wife is going to be there, together with a few other dignitaries," Will says, "so I suggest you bridle your tongue tonight."

Hearing Will use the same words I used yesterday to describe my step-mother makes me smile a little.

"I'm sure my father is thrilled to hear you describe his wife in such a manner," I say. Amusement laces my words. Will grins, his blank expression finally breaking.

"Oh, he is," Will says.

For a split second, we smile at each other. The ice between us cracks. Perhaps Will isn't so bad after all. I still trust him only as far as I can throw him but maybe there is more to him than meets the eye.

"Are you coming tonight to the ball?" I ask.

"Who do you think is going to escort you?"

"Will tonight be the first time you meet Savannah?" I refer to my step-mother.

"Absolutely. I hear she's quite the stunner."

I laugh and I'm surprised by how natural it sounds. It's not bitter or sarcastic like I'd expected it to be.

"You have no idea what you're in for, William," I warn, smiling wryly.

Will shrugs again. "It's a ball filled with rich people and alcohol. How bad can it be?"

I shake my head.

"If it gives you an idea of how much I hate it, I'd rather get abducted again than be in a room full of people who can't wait to show off their wealth."

Will grins and I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "What?"

"Don't worry. I'll be there this time. It'll be fun. I promise."

His infectious smile lights up the room and I almost believe him

Keyword: almost.