Page 63 of Mouse Trapped

He sits forward, his eyes blazing. “Let’s get things straight right now. I demand respect.”

“People earn respect.” I don’t know why I’m challenging him.For Christ’s sake, this man murdered my mother. He could do the same to me.But he wants me for a purpose, I’m certain. There’s something about the way he’s assessing me. He didn’t bring me here just to kill me. What would be the benefit of that?

“I don’t think you know who you’re talking to. I am General De Souza.El Procurador. People fear me with good reason.” Heswipes his hand through the air. “I could snuff you out just like that.”

It must be that I feel I’ve lost everything, that I’ve nothing to live for, as his comment doesn’t worry me. Other people might show they’re afraid of him, I refuse to show fear. “Just tell me why you’ve brought me here. Now I’m in Colombia, I’ll need to figure stuff out. So let’s get this over with, then I’d like to go to a city and try to get on with my new life.” I sound far braver than I feel, but he’s rubbing me the wrong way.

As if he realises confrontation isn’t the best way to get through to me, he raises his chin, and his voice is less gruff when he speaks next. “You are my daughter, Mariana. Where else would you be but with me? My home is comfortable and you are welcome here. You will stay with me until I, we, decide what’s best for you.”

I haven’t had a parent decide anything for me in a very long time. Inappropriate things come into my head, like asking why he killed my mother, why he raped her and forced her to leave.Why he broke a four-year-old’s arm.I force those questions and my anger down.

Instead, I indicate our surroundings. “You were a corporal in the army when I was a baby. How did you get to be a general, and I presume this is all yours?”

“All mine.” His lips curl in a self-satisfied grin. “And I’mtheGeneral, not a general. Let’s say I saw a need for things to be supplied, and filled it.”

“Things…?”

Again, his hand moves through the air in a downwards direction. “No need to discuss business now. Not when I’m getting to know the daughter I haven’t seen for so long. You’ll find everything out in good time.”

Now why does that sound more like a threat than a promise?I shiver.

He notices. “You’re cold? Our climate must be a little cooler than what you’re used to. Your clothes, perhaps you’d prefer to change into something warmer? I have a room prepared, clothes in different sizes.” He breaks off, and for a moment a look comes over his face which is almost of regret. “You are my daughter, Mariana, yet I know nothing of you. Not even how tall you’ve grown.”

If you hadn’t been such a cruel man, my mother wouldn’t have left taking me with her.

“If there’s a room prepared, I’d like to go to it.”And be done with this painful interview.I raise my eyes to his face, firmly meeting his gaze. Knowing I’ve got to portray myself as a strong independent woman from the United States of America, and not some pawn he can play with.Except I never was, and never will be, an American.

He chuckles. It’s rather an unpleasant sound, one you could imagine him making when he takes an enemy down.

“Alright, Mariana. I’ll get you taken to your room. You can rest until dinner. You’ll be escorted down.”

A strange choice of words, but as I just want to get away from the company of this murderer, who I suspect has more than the death of my mother at his door, I go with it. I stand. He gets up himself, going to the fireplace and pressing a bell.

The man who’d been in the room earlier reappears. A quick exchange of Spanish, which I take is my father issuing instructions. Confirmed when the man reopens the door, holds it ajar and steps back to allow me to pass.

Before I go through, my father’s final words reach me. “Later, Mariana. We’ll continue getting to know each other later.”

I shiver again. Then I am led up a marble staircase. On the landing, there’s a full-length portrait of my father.Pompous ass.Then I’m led on, down a corridor which looks filled withantiques, and finally another door is opened. The man steps back, waving me inside.

That I hear a key turning in the lock is disturbing. Quickly I turn. No, I wasn’t mistaken. I’ve been locked in.

Looking around, I survey the room I’ve been given. There’s a large bed in the middle, a satin cover on it. The curtains to the large windows match. The furniture is elaborate, nothing like the functional type I’ve been used to. In fact, my whole trailer would fit in here and then some. An open door leads to a bathroom, a luxurious tub with massage jets, and a large walk-in shower. Various toiletries have been provided, more expensive looking than I could ever afford.

I stay standing, then turn in a circle, my mind whirling. Finally deciding, though this might be nicer, the fact there’s a key between me and freedom means I’m secured as much as I was in the detention centre. The only difference being, there, at least, I knew why.

Chapter 26

Mouse

“What the fuck has Devil done,” I scream into Drummer’s face. “What has he done, Prez?”

“Step back, Mouse,” Drummer rasps. “Calm yourself down. You’re in no state to help Mariana.”

But I don’t move. “Help her? How can I fuckin’ help her? She’s in fuckin’ Colombia!” My hands rake through my hair. When I snarl my fingers on a tangle, I just rip strands out, ignoring the pain.

“Will you fuckin’ let me talk to you?” Prez pushes his chest against mine. We stand head to toe. “If you give me a minute, I can tell you what Devil said.”

“Come on, Mouse.” Now it’s Blade trying to talk me off the ledge. “You think we’re going to desert your ol’ lady? Turn around and go home? Ain’t you been a brother long enough to know we don’t walk away from shit like this.”

---