Chapter Seven
“Caleb?” I call as I step into an empty room. He darts out from behind a door I hadn't noticed, one I assume leads to the bathroom they mentioned, and walks towards me.
“You're here,” he exhales in relief, giving me a small smile. I resist my urge to rush over and give him a hug, knowing how much he dislikes them. I stop a pace or so away from him, close enough to reassure myself that he appears fine, but still giving him his space.
“I'm here.” I pause as I run my gaze over him, looking for even the slightest signs of harm, but other than his clothes being ruffled from sleep, I find none. “Have they treated you okay?” I question him gently, not wanting to set him off.
“I'm fine. They just shut me in here and told me to wait until you could come and speak to me. They said I should sleep, so I did. Was that the wrong thing to do?” he asks me, in an almost bored voice. Only Caleb could get bored while held captive by assassins.
“I'm glad you're okay.” I reach out a hand and rest it on his shoulder, needing to feel the warmth under my fingers to convince myself that he's real. He's alive, and he's actually okay. He doesn't even look distressed. Maybe we can get out of this without him becoming traumatised? I have to do everything I can to make that happen. “We're going to be okay,” I tell him, trying to sound reassuring. “You just have to stay here for a little while I help these guys out with something. And then, you and I are going to get out this place. Maybe we'll even travel across Europe? I know you've always wanted to go back to Rome.”
“How are we gonna do that, Scar?” he asks me quietly, his brown eyes filling with worries no child should bear.
“I don't know all the answers right now, but I swear I will make it work. You're never going back there, Caleb.” I stare back into his eyes, hoping that mine show the sincerity and conviction in my promise that I feel. He will never go back there. I don't care if I have to kill the witch myself, she won’t ever lay a hand on him.
“Thanks, Scar,” he responds, sounding a little more upbeat and giving me a cheerful smile.
“Are you going to be okay here while I go with them?” I ask him, not wanting to bring him down again, but still needing to be sure. He takes me by surprise by smiling wider.
“I'll make it work.”
“You're wise beyond your years, Caleb.” I step back just one pace and already begin to feel anxious about leaving him here. “I'll be back soon,” I inform him, trying to sound confident.
“Okay, I'll be waiting here.” He pauses with his mouth half open, looking extremely thoughtful for a moment. “Can you ask if they have any food before you leave though?”
“Of course I can. I need to get cleaned up before we leave anyway. Do you need anything else?” I ask, and he shakes his head, his messy hair flying everywhere as he does. “Good.” I try to walk out, but I stop myself halfway and turn back, heading straight for my brother. “Can I please hug you? I promise to be fast,” I request, my anxiety at leaving him here demanding I do. Instead of answering, he just gives me a hug instead. Grateful, I return the hug, giving him a quick squeeze before releasing him. “When I'm gone, please stay safe. Be polite, stay quiet, and keep to yourself. I'll make sure they feed you, and I fucking swear to you I'll come back as soon as possible and then we'll leave. Okay?” I promise again.
“I know you will,” he says, not sounding concerned as he pulls away.
“How do you sound so sure?” I wonder aloud, the words just slipping out from my lips. How can he be so sure of me, when I'm this anxious?
“Because you've never broken a promise,” he tells me with conviction, as he goes to take a seat on the camping bed they put up for him.
“Thanks for believing in me, Caleb,” I tell him, before turning away and heading back for the door. I walk straight back to where I left One and Three. I walk into the room and freeze as I see the back of a head. A head that’s not covered by a ski-mask anymore.
“Caleb needs something to eat,” I announce, as my eyes dart around everywhere but the uncovered head. Of course, they then latch onto the other person, Three, who stands facing me. He’s also without his mask again. He smiles, and I just stare in silence. His face is too pretty for a killer. A friendly smile and brown eyes filled with life. He's nothing like I expected. Nobody would blink twice at this man on the street. Well, other than to check him out, that is. I grimace as I realise just how attractive he really is. Why are the bad ones always so good looking? I shake my head in dismay at the thought.
“I'll get him something now,” Three offers, already moving. He pushes past me and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. I start inching towards the door myself, forcing myself to move slowly and not run like the fleeing prey I feel like.
“Where are you going?” One asks me in a low voice.
I freeze, feeling goose bumps break out all over my skin as I glance at the back of his head, waiting for him to turn around. When he doesn't turn, I answer him. “Just going to clean myself up.”
He finally turns around and walks towards me, stopping just inches away. He looks down at me, and I stare up at his face, taking it all in. Fair-skinned, green eyes, dark-blond hair, and I spot the edge of a tattoo inching out down his neck from behind his left ear. His expression is cold and his eyes cunning. Again, he's more attractive than I'd like to think of a killer being, but he's rougher. I notice a few things I didn't at first glance. The scar on his neck that leads down under his shirt, the dark shadows under his eyes, and the general frostiness that he has about him. His intensity is only furthered by seeing his face.
“You've seen my face now.” He speaks the words simply, just a statement of fact. His next words are spoke in the same manner. “You tell anyone what any of us look like, and I'll kill you. Maybe I'll shoot you, maybe I'll take my time, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you'll be dead. Do you understand me?”
“I understand,” I respond, proud of the fact my voice doesn't shake. I clasp my hands behind my back, trying to hide that they're shaking.
“If you were dead, no one will be there to care for your brother--
“Are you threatening my brother?” I cut him off, fury churning in my gut. He smiles and holds his hands up in a mockery of a surrender.
“I'm not,” he says, just as calmly as before. “I'm only stating a fact. Without you, he has no one. Stay alive for him, Scarlett. Keep your pretty mouth shut.”
“I won't tell a soul. Not a single thing about you or your friends, if you'll let us go. I'll take Caleb, and we’ll both disappear. You'll never hear from us again. I swear.”
“That's the plan?” he asks, and I hesitate but confirm with a nod of my head. “Good. You'd never be safe out in the open, even with your mother dead.”
“Why wouldn't we be safe with her dead?” I ask, unable to stop myself due to the burning curiosity.
“People like her have friends. Associates. People who will notice she's gone and likely know where to point the finger of blame. You'll need to get new identities, money, and help if you can find it. Just be careful of who you trust,” he advises. I lick my lips nervously, feeling my heart start to pound in my chest as he speaks.
“Thank you,” I utter, just about getting the words out. Even held together, my hands continue to tremble at my back.
“Get ready. We're leaving soon. I want this sorted and done with today,” he instructs in an icy tone, before walking out and leaving me standing in stunned silence, as I watch out the door after him as he goes. I let out a long sigh of relief when he's finally far enough away. My shoulders sag a little, I feel an exhaustion deep within my body that I know sleep won't fix.
“Just get cleaned up, see Theo, and then come back so you can get Caleb and leave forever,” I tell myself aloud, hoping that hearing the words will make it sound easier somehow. Make it sound like a real plan instead of wishful thinking.
If only things were ever really that simple.