Scarlet's Walk - Life Without Tumblr Season Two

Part Five

She was warm. If she kept her eyes closed, she could maybe just stay here, undisturbed. And warm. She smiled. ‘Splendid, she’s ‘wake. ‘Ere, Alex, our little witch ‘as woken up.’

She groaned and opened her eyes, seeing little except the pasty face peering down at her. He looked how he sounded, small and bitter and not unlike a rat. She was lying on a table, like, a dining table, with her feet hanging off the end, and she rolled onto her side. 

She’d misjudged the size of the table and rolled right off, landing hard on the floor, and shouting in alarm. As the pain sank into her left arm, she held it with her right hand, and despite her best efforts, a few tears ran down her cheeks. She scrubbed them away, looking up at her captor. 

She was kidnapped, properly-held-against-her-will-by-mysterious-men-kidnapped. She almost laughed, it was so ludicrous. Then Alex leant over her, and the humour died in her throat, crawling down into her stomach to curl up into a hot little ball and hide. 

Where the other man was skinny, Alex was wide and his face looked like someone had smacked him with a saucepan, many times. His nose was flattened across his face, and his smile was leery and contained more than a hint of menace. She shuffled back, her head bumping against the top of the table. 

She thought about scrambling under it, when he grabbed her, his hand tight around her arm. 

‘Ow, let go, that hurts.’

He sneered. ‘Please believe me, little girl, that doesn’t hurt. You’ll know when it hurts.’

She was sweating now, and glanced around. They were in a kitchen, though she wasn’t convinced it had been used for doing any cooking in. Dirty plates were piled high in the sink, plastic cartons spilling out of the bin and onto the floor. It smelled in here, of old food and rot and she wrinkled up her nose. 

Alex pulled her forward, and she stumbled, losing her footing. She wasn’t light, god knows, she wasn’t light, but the American barely seemed to notice, dragging her across the floor and throwing her into a chair. She rubbed her arm where he’d grabbed her and bit her lip. She tried to picture Martin, but could only see him in his tramp outfit, grubby and a bit creepy. I’ve been through hell, I’ve actually been through hell, this shouldn’t be scary. 

It was, though. Was mum panicking yet? She probably wouldn’t call the police, they might come round and discover the dodgy lead from next-door’s satellite dish. But she’d be worried, calling everyone they knew and asking about her. She might never see her again, never get the chance to cuss her latest horrible hair cut, or take the piss when she tried to use some ‘cool’ expression. 

The thought was far worse than she’d expected. Alex bent down, his face stopping inches from hers. ‘Where is he?’

‘Huh?’

‘Where is he? You know him, you know where he is, so where is he?’

‘I don’t know, I don’t know who you mean, who do you me—’

He hit her, his hand catching her cheek bone and slamming her head around. Her neck cracked and she swore as lights flashed before her eyes and she swooned. She’d imagined swooning, but it had always been following a meeting with some gorgeous person. This wasn’t like that. 

He was back in close. ‘I have neither the time, nor the patience, I really don’t. My friend here, he’d be happy to play with you. Maybe I’ll let him, just for a while. Or you can answer my questions.’

‘Why do you want him?’

‘He stole something. My employers want what he stole.’

‘Do your employers own them?’