Beyond the Screams ✔

Chapter Twelve

I heard the door thud behind me, causing the walls beside it to rumble. Donald was already waiting, his posture perfect. I sighed, holding my wrists together and extending them out into his direction with a knowing smile on my face. He didn't smile back, simply bringing out two familiar pieces of material and tying my wrists together, then wrapping the second piece of material around my eyes.

"I'll try and get you out of here as quickly as possible, Mr Clarke is known for pulling tricks." He whispered quietly, beginning to step forward.

I began walking as well, trying to match his speed. "What type of tricks?"

He paused as if he was considering if telling me was a good decision, "It's not every young woman that he brings in, either to offer information or help in some way, even flee the country..." He started slowly, "But every now and again, he'll order someone like me to wait outside the door to take her back to wherever the meeting point was. However, there have been... times where he wasn't being completely truthful about agreeing to let her go without any sort of payment."

My breath hitched, "Have you ever been one of the bodyguards to one of those young girls?"

He didn't answer, but his silence told me the truth.

"Well then," I said quietly, "We better get a move on before he decides that I'm the next victim."

-----------------------------------------

We didn't exchange any more words. Simply walking in silence, a disgruntled sigh on my part whenever I tripped or the tight clasp caused my wrists began to hurt a little more than it should.

Donald stopped walking, meaning that we must have arrived back at the original meeting spot. I felt the material slip away from my face, the bright sun blaring into my eyes. I let him untie the material around my wrists. He then took the pieces of material and shoved them into his pocket. Even then, it that precise moment, we said nothing. Locking eyes, I sent him an appreciative nod, one that was quickly returned. he turned away and walked away, his large frame slithered into the shadows. As Donald left my point of view I let out a large breath that I didn't even realise I was holding. I checked my watch, 10:45. There shouldn't be any problem. I had told Bryce that I would arrive at any time between 10:30 and 11:00. But I knew him better than that. I knew that by now he would be worried, probably fuming that I hadn't arrived yet. I looked at the chapel one last time before walking down the street, clutching my bag unreasonably close as I tried to find the best place to get a cab.

I had to walk considerably far. Down multiple side streets until I reached the main road that already had cars slowly driving down. I held my arm out, signalling that I needed a taxi. It took a while for someone to notice me, but eventually, a familiar-coloured car pulled out in front of me. I pulled open the door and sat down. The driver would have only been a couple of years older than me, the only thing I could really see about him was the colour of his hair, a deep brown.

"Where do you want to go?" He asked gruffly,

"MacPherson Music, please," I replied kindly, hoping he wouldn't be one to make conversation.

He didn't say anything in return, but rather restarted the car and pulled onto the road. I didn't pay attention as he drove forward, drove through the cars and closer to where I needed to go.

I was looking out of the window the entire time, only realising where I was when I saw that familiar red bricks. I looked to the front of the building, and sure enough, Bryce was there. But he didn't look how he usually did when he was on the job. His face looked distressed, his eyes were red and his hand was lodged in his hair, ruining his usually perfectly styled hair. He looked... dishevelled.