My favorite ride would be dick. My least favorite? boats.
Unfortunately, there are only two ways to get in and out of the island: ride a boat or ride a helicopter. The most convenient was a boat since Naghandom had at least one docked and ready at all times. Thankfully, it was large enough to put ample distance between Elizabeth and I. Otherwise, she would've been ten feet underwater with crabs deflating her fake boobs.
I pushed my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose. The waves were getting larger and seawater was ruining my mascara. To my left, Cyan was vomiting into a bag. To my right, Leila was busy with her work laptop.
My hair was clipped up. I was covered in a long flowy silk skirt and a cross between a knitted crop top and lingerie. I had a bag but the only things inside were my charger, my card, and perfume. Today's more a matter of leaving with none and coming back with bags and bags and bags.
The boat docked and I walked down the pier. Gurney's Star Island Marina is part of a larger resort and if I were to escape the island out of spite, it would be the next most convenient accommodation. A short walk revealed options for waterfront dining. Lunch with Elizabeth on a girl's day out was a disgusting concept. To my misfortune, it became reality.
There were six of us in total. Eli and her two friends, me, Leila, and Cyan. Having separate tables for threes was a mutual agreement. The seafood tasted marvelous, but I was getting tired of seafood.
Cars were also split per groups of three. We could just go our separate ways and save one another the cat fights. But that would mean that Dad's bodyguards would report exactly that.
Understandably, there weren't much places to go shopping at the Hamptons. Nor where there any good enough places that were practical to drive to. They were all on the other side of the city and we only had today's time. So, despite Elizabeth's wails about going to SoHo, we settled with a shopping center an hour away from the restaurant.
Cyan and I had one task: turn Leila into my father's sexy secretary. The fact that she didn't want us spending anything on her, protests against everything we pick, and keeps her hands to herself and not the displays was making the mission hard. Elizabeth, on the other hand...
"I hope you don't blow all my dad's money off for your cheap taste," I said, eyeing her multiple paper bags with names of stores I wouldn't even dare set foot into.
"Why wouldn't I?" she said, pushing her sunglasses up as a headband, "If it infuriates you this much, it's a double win."
I stared at her. Really stared. Her whole existence seemed miserable. From her crappy balayage, her one-year-old nose, her fake tan, her obvious boob job, her large feet desperately trying not to look like a man's by having glittery white polish, and her patterned dress which looks like a grandma's table runner. Everything she is and everything she does, for some reason, makes my blood boil. She's the epitome of my hate put in my way to taunt me.
"Scarlett..."
Leila said softly and hesitantly.
In my head, I was thinking of ten different ways to murder a woman and how to dispose her body afterwards. At the moment, I was leaning toward putting her pieces through a grinder then feeding the meat to pigs. It sounded nearly foolproof.
Elizabeth and her friends walked away, a smug smile on her face. I had to calm myself down with a fruit shake. Thankfully, Leila must've gotten the message that was mood was getting worse. Shopping with her became easier for the next two hours. If my dad and Leila would be away for three days of work, she'd need 20 outfits.
Once my mood got a bit better, I was able to enjoy the day. I do go on frequent shopping trip with my friends, but with family it felt more therapeutic. It reminded me of the limited times I went shopping with my mother before she died. If gave somewhat a similar feeling, if not the same.
The small amount of progress to cancel the wedding was making me doubtful whether it really will continue or not. Janeel was a powerful pawn, but even he wasn't progressing. Although I didn't want to, deep down I knew I had to ready myself for if Anthony and Elizabeth do get married.
I already had a vague plan. I'd move out, surely, then continue with college. And although it pains me to be away from my father, I don't think I'd visit much. After all, my father knew the implications of his decision. I don't think I ever lacked in expressing my hate towards his fiancé.
At some point, we reunited with them, but only due to my dad relaying that wish through his bodyguard. He really wanted us to get along. It was a far dream.
"Having fun?"
The voice was the last I wanted to hear. I turned around to see Elizabeth again. Everyone was gathered and looked ready to go home.
"I was," I simply said. I then regretted it and wish I had said something meaner because right then, the woman looked like she was about to say something that would rile me up.
"I thoughts so. Especially since I'm here," she took a step closer to me, leaned in, and softened her voice, limiting the audience to only Cyan and Leila, "It's the closest experience to going shopping with a mother. Since you don't have yours anymore."
I hit her.
The sound was sharp and crunchy. It resembled a large branch being snapped into two or having celery bit right beside your ear. It came quick. My palm to her face was like a knee-jerk reaction and it felt fucking good.
It happened so quick that everyone else around us didn't react until I already had both my hands in the woman's hair.
Behind me, two reactions contrasted.
"Scarlett, no! What are you doing?" came Leila's panicked voice.
"Get her, Scar! Fuck. Her. Up!" by Cyan rose above others'.
I felt Elizabeth's claws on my cheek and although I'm sure it would leave a mark, the only thing I was focused on was delivering as much blows as I could before security pulls us away.
I was hauled upwards. My feet left the ground and I kept kicking. Around my waist were large arms that dragged me meters away from Elizabeth. On her side, another guard was doing the same.
I have never wanted to kill someone so badly. Leila was the first to attend to me, asking if I was okay. I nodded but kept my eyes on Elizabeth, mustering the scariest look my face would allow. Cyan, on the other hand, was yelling a very long string of insults and profanities that it amazed me how creative one could be for trash talking. It was not very Hinson of us, but as I said before: all of us are black sheep.
Cyan's parting insult had something to do with horse dick, granny cunts, and salty clits. I watched Elizabeth walk away. It was only then I felt the deep scratch on my cheek and bruise on my thigh.
I already knew what was waiting for us when we came home. A disappointed Anthony Hinson made my heart wrench but at least he'd know that Elizabeth was down to fight me and should they continue the matrimonial event, there'll be more fights in the future.
I was ready for hurtful words, a hurt expression, and a long lecture. However, dad didn't show himself to us. Not to me, not to Elizabeth. He had locked himself in his office. Somehow, that was worse.
I had a number of emotions that overwhelmed me. I was still freaking angry with Elizabeth, sad for my dad, frustrated about the marriage, and curious as to how else I can take the woman down. I settled in my room and took a very long shower. I assigned Cyan the task of switching out the contents of Leila's luggage to clothes we bought earlier for when she spends three days on land with my father. I wasn't in the mood to come out myself, eat, nor talk. I slept it out.
There was a knock on my door at around eight in the evening, just after people had dinner downstairs. It was Leila, changed in a more corporate attire than earlier, looking like she was ready to leave. I let her in.
"Your father missed dinner too," she said as she walked to the middle of the room and sat on a sofa. I turned on some lights.
"I figured," I said as I took some juice out from my mini fridge. It was only then I realized how dehydrated I was. I haven't eaten nor drank anything since the mall.
"He's very disappointed," she smiled sadly, "But you know that already. I just wanted to say bye before we leave. And I wanted to tell you that I'll try to talk some sense into him," she held my hand, "To forgive both of you. But no promises. You know how stubborn he can get."
"Course I do," I snorted, "Where else would I get it from?"
She smiled at that. A comforting smile.
"He does need some cheering up," I said, "And since he refuses to see me and Elizabeth, it's now up to you."
"I don't know about that," she laughed, "Much I can do is advise him. Plus, if I know Mr. Hinson, I know that he'll drown himself in work to keep himself from thinking about things."
I sat beside the woman. As soon as I did, my head started to wonder how it would be like if she does end up with my father and not Elizabeth. I might not have to run away anymore. Things would be bearable. She'd be with us more often. Hell, she'll live with us. Although it would be a big change and I'm not good with change, I was assured it would be nice.
But that wasn't where things were headed, realistically. But optimistically, the thought brought warmth.
"You know him well, huh?" I wondered. She looked a bit flustered with my simple comment.
"Of course," she shrugged, "I have to. From his schedule to his allergies, his shirt size, foot size, favorite meals, favorite pastime. Just... all part of the job."
Gregoria peeked into the room, the warm light from the hallway highlighting her gray hairs. She smiled, "Boat is ready, Ms. Leila. Bags are loaded, engine is running."
Leila stood, still holding my hands, "Well, behave while we're gone, okay?"
I stammered. Could never promise that.
She shook her head, "Or at least make sure it doesn't reach us there," and laugh.
"Yeah, have fun working," I said as I stood and walked her to the door.
"Will do," the woman said before retreating with Gregoria and off.
I fell into my bed again. I had eight pillows but it still felt empty.
Which reminded me: Janeel.
I opened my phone to check if he ever texted me. Turns out, while I was brooding in my suite, he had left two missed calls and one text, saying to meet in the same room at midnight. So while I waited for midnight, I threw Netflix on and binged on leftover dessert.
I still hadn't got a hold of my feelings. There were still too many at a time. If I were back home, I'd cope by seizing the day: going out, getting busy, provoking drama. Unfortunately, we were in a remote island and the only comfort I could get were blueberry muffins and Breaking Bad. Luckily, I found humor in counting how many bald characters the show had.
By twelve-o-three, I made my way downstairs and into the pool room. Janeel was already there, catching up on news on the TV. It made him look old again.
"Hey,"
"Hi," he said as he lowered the volume. I sat across him, "I heard about what happened."
"Of course," I snorted at that. People just can't keep from gossiping, "But for the record, she started it."
"They said you hit first but," he shrugged, "I believe you," with the way he said it, it was quite sincere. But I guess he was just rooting for the lesser evil.
"Aw," I crossed my legs, the fabric of my dress rising up. His eyes flew to the bruise, then back to my face, "Growing soft for me?"
"Why? Was I ever hard on you?" he shook his head as he stood and made his way to the mini bar. Instead of grabbing one of the bottles on the shelf, he chose soda from the fridge.
"Well, I can think of one time you were," I quipped.
The man chuckled before standing in front of me. He opened the can. Turns out, it was for me.
"Thanks," I said. I drank and Janeel got to his knees. I hadn't noticed the ice wrapped in cloth in his other hand.
I was taken aback from the gesture. It was kind. I've had kinder things done to me and it wasn't donate-all-life-savings-to-charity kind of kind, but it was a personal kind. Only then it occurred to me that I haven't received any kindness from anyone in a long time--the type of kindness they aren't being paid to give.
It made me sad for myself. Have my standards for human compassion lowered so much that a little act like this causes me to react this way? Moreover, is this the most kindness I deserve?
"Thanks," I said again, quieter this time as Janeel put the ice against me bruise.
I didn't realize how bad it looked until now. Either Elizabeth had a mean punch or I hit it against something else while we fought. I looked at Janeel, wondering how a person this nice ended up with someone as vile as Elizabeth.
"Thanks," for some reason, I said it again.
"Welcome?" he smiled at me.
We stayed like that for a few minutes. The ice melted and water ran down my thigh. Janeel wiped it off. The warmth from his hand brought a buzz against my cold skin. Whatever tension we've had these past few weeks, it was still there and it wasn't going away.
He sat across me again.
"I did some digging while you were gone," he began, "Elizabeth visits the employees' cottage from time to time. And knowing Elizabeth, it's an odd place of interest."
"Then we know what we're gonna do next," I settled, "We go there after lunch."
"Was about to suggest it," he leaned forward, elbows to knees, "We go in, get the laptop, find the blackmail, and-"
"I show it to my father, expose Elizabeth, and boom, wedding is off."
"As you wish," he clapped your hands, "Easy enough."
"Are you still not gonna tell me?" the change in tone caught him off guard. I didn't mean it to come out demanding either. I explained further, "I'm still gonna help you regardless but I wish you wouldn't keep my blind."
"You can know once we get it," he settled, "I'll show you everything on it."
"Did you cheat?" I wondered. It's quite a common issue for couples, is it not? "Kill someone? Steal?"
"It's a work thing," he told me. For that moment, it was enough. I don't think any work thing of Janeel would keep me interested. Despite narrowing the issue down, there were still a lot of possibilities of what he might have particularly done.
"Work thing. Got it."
We didn't have much to talk about after and I didn't have any energy. We recalled out meeting time for the day: right after lunch, back door of the cottage.
I said my goodnight and headed upstairs. I knew I was tired but I didn't know I was tired tired--enough to sleep in and wake up beyond 'after lunch.'
"Fuck," I hissed as I looked at my phone. I slept for fourteen hours straight. Who does that?
I squinted my eyes at the six missed calls from Janeel and numerous texts asking if I were alive. Why did no one bother to wake me? I guess with my dad and Leila gone, no one minded the lack of my presence. Cyan must've, but that woman sleeps in much more than I do. I stormed down the stairs.
The place was generally quiet. I was calling Janeel on my way out but he was not answering. Hugging my robe around my body, I walked over the hot sand and towards the employees' house.
I was meters to the back door when a figure emerged behind the dark screen door. It swung open and Janeel walked out, then grabbing me by my shoulders.
"Where were you?" he wondered frantically.
"I slept in, I'm so sorry, I must've been too tired," I explained quickly as we walked away.
"So, did you find anything?" he only looked disappointed for a moment before shrugging it off.
"No," he sighed when we were out of earshot from anyone who could be in the house, "I ran into Gregoria and she was confused why I was there. I asked if she ever noticed Elizabeth going in. She said never."
"I mean... it's Gregoria," I shrugged, "She spends most of her time in the mansion anyway. Did anyone else see you? Or did anyone look suspicious?"
"Yeah, a lot more people there than I expected. I also thought that most of them would be in the mansion, cleaning after lunch, especially."
"No," I sighed again, the hot sand was starting to burn my feet, "I forgot that they work in shifts still."
"Yeah," he scratched his head, "I could easily make an excuse as to why I'm there, but not as to why I'd be digging into people's stuff if I'd gotten caught like that."
Janeel noticed my discomfort and we walked back to the mansion, talking the back and longer way, rounding the pool.
"We need to go in when they're all busy," he put his hands on his hips, "When's the next event?"
"Dad's away, so I don't think there's anything to celebrate while the groom's out," I explained. I looked around. It was a quiet day, I barely saw anyone else I knew, "We'll have to make one ourselves."
"Huh," he walked to a bench and sat down.
I finally noticed his ensemble for the day: linen shirt, denim shorts. Typical beach thing. I wondered if, despite the pressure and hurry of being blackmailed, he had time to thoroughly plan his island wardrobe. Sure looked like it. It was almost comedic to imagine.
"We have to find an excuse to party then."
"Easy," I sat as well, "I'll just contact Benson, tell him I'm bored. He'll whip something up."
"The sooner the better," he reminded me.
"How about dinner then? Dinner party later. By the shore."
"Sounds good. Plus, it won't take long to prepare and we can go in tonight."
I went to Benson's room. It was easy to convince him as the man doesn't need excuses to throw an event in the first pace, just a go signal. Because of short notice, most workers in the island were busy for preparations. It worked well.
By six in the evening, I was getting ready with Cyan. Flats are boring, but when you're at a beach, it's your only choice aside from flip flops. My time on the island had made me appreciate my Michel Vivien sandals a bit more. Aside from this, I wore a black sheer dress from Coperni.
I put my hair up. The breeze from the balcony hinted that tonight would be windy. As Benson does not miss any detail, it explains his choice for putting up a tent. I didn't bother much for makeup. Only the essentials and enough coverage for Elizabeth's scratch. Once I was ready to eat, Cyan and I headed to the said tent.
Inside was a long table for at least thirty. The place was warmly lit by candles, and fairy lights. The arrangements on the table surprised me as to how Benson and his minions could procure such a lovely design within limited time. Where the hell did they even get these?
There was a theme: browns and cream. Colors of flowers, leaves, and even pinecones ranged from different shades of brown. Even the placemats were large dried leaves covered it whatever made them waterproof. Utensils were wrapped in jute and linen. An oak slab served as a large charcuterie board in one area.
"Wow," I whispered, "You've outdone yourself, Ben."
"Your dad's not paying me not to serve, is he?" he sounded smug, "Just wait until the actual wedding." he let out an inhumane sound of excitement and got jumpy.
"Yeah... the wedding..."
I was sitting next to Cyan who was next to Myles who was next to Janeel. Everyone cleaned up nice for dinner.
"This was a good idea, Scarlett," Myles spoke, leaning toward Cyan for me to hear. I noticed how his hand was on his thigh, dangerously near something else. I prayed that they wouldn't do anything to ruin my appetite.
We were to have a four-course dinner. Some ingredients had to be slow-cooked so really, I was wondering how the team pulled off miracles in such a short time. Janeel and I had to eat quick. To not cause suspicion, I excused myself first after the third course, saying that I wasn't comfortable with my dress. Others were taking cigarette breaks anyway. The table was missing a few people to begin with.
I went into the mansion first. Most employees were in the kitchen, getting the next serve ready. I went out through one of the backdoors, then moving quick, into the cottage.
It was dark inside, understandably. It had about eight bedrooms and necessary common areas, as far as I know. That meant that I had to do this quick but without leaving anything out.
I started downstairs. The living room very quickly, the kitchen, laundry area, etc. There weren't much hiding spots because there weren't much furniture. But it was hard to see with minimal light. When downstairs was clear, I went to the second floor.
I started with one room. Clear. Then another. Clear. As I was headed towards the third, someone grabbed my shoulder. I spun around and held my breath, cautious to not make a sound despite my surprise.
"Found anything?" Janeel asked, standing dangerously close.
I shook my head and we entered the bedroom. As soon as I saw a familiar shirt on the bed, I knew it was Marco's.
We searched one corner after another. I was about to enter the joint bathroom when we heard talking in the hallway and fuck, they were headed towards the same bedroom.
"Shit, shit, shit," I went into the bathroom, dragging Janeel by the shoulder with me. I shut the door as softly yet hurriedly as I could. Only seconds later, the voices got louder.
The first voice was easy to identify. It was an older woman's with a slight accent. Gregoria. The second one was familiar but odd. It's like I've heard it before and it's probably someone I know and have seen around. But I couldn't recognize it fully.
I leaned my head against the door and so did Janeel. He was too concentrated on the conversation to notice that my backside was against his front. The subtle contact sent a tickle up my spine. I had to stop myself from squirming.
Which I probably failed at because he laid a hand on my shoulder.
"Have you loaded her bags on the boat?" asked Gregoria.
"Yes, I told you--done. They leave at five in the morning."
I turned my head to the side to meet Janeel's face. We shared the same look: intrigue.
"Okay," the woman sighed, "if all goes well, the wedding will come sooner than planned. And execution for that is-"
"In our hands," the other voice sounded rude. Young and rude, "Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that."
"Once she leaves, I need you to distract that rat," Gregoria spat the last word. She sounded wicked and I was having a bad feeling about it, "You have to make sure she stays here. On this island."
"Whatever," followed by a deep, deep sigh.
I heard a slap. It wasn't sharp, but someone was definitely hit. On the shoulder, back, or head. Then, silence. My attention drifted to the harsh pound of my heart, demanding to leap out of its cage.
"Makinig kang mabuti (listen to me carefully)," spoke Gregoria, then a pause, "Pag 'to nagkanda puta-puta (if things get messy), you can kiss our dream life goodbye. So please."
The other person remained quiet. Janeel's hand on my shoulder squeezed. We both knew we've caught something. I held my breath. I heard footsteps that sounded like someone was exiting the room. But then, it stopped.
"Oh, and Marco," said Gregoria, voice a distance away, "I suggest you find another spot for the laptop.
The ex is onto us."
[a/n: :P ]