Page 14 of Downfall

“Do you know who did this?” I ask.

The driver shakes his head and the man from the Club finally speaks.

“We’re pulling CCTV but there’s an issue with the feed.” He says.

“What issue?” I ask.

He winces too. “The film is corrupted.”

I shake my head. Corrupted. So this was planned. Whoever did this knew exactly when my driver had left the vehicle unattended and was also more than capable of ensuring they’d not get caught.

A shiver runs through me and I glance around, scanning every bush, every corner, every possible hiding place that the vandal could be. No way would they leave after doing this. They’d want to see the damage, to see my reaction.

Is it him?

The thought hits me out of the blue. It can’t be. He isn’t allowed back. He was exiled. And yet, it feels like him. It’s certainly his style.

“I’ll call the house. Get another car sent.” The driver says.

“Don’t bother.” I reply. If he’s here, and he’d be damn stupid to be, but if he is, then I’m more than ready to give him a piece of my mind. It’s been six years coming. Six torturous years because of him.

“Ms. Capulet?” The driver says confused. Clearly he’s wondering how the hell I’m going to get home.

“I’ll walk. It’s a nice day.”

“It’s two miles.” The driver replies and I smile.

“See to the car.” I murmur before hiking my bag onto my shoulder and turning away.

The gravel crunches under my shoes, the air is already warm enough to tell me I’m going to regret this but I’m too stubborn, too belligerent to simply turn around and go back.

Besides if they send another car it will be one of Paris’s and I know in my gut he’ll twist this so that it’s my fault. By taking one of his cars, I’ll only be adding fuel to the fire. And in my gut, I’m hoping that somehow I can pass this off as an accident, that I might even be able to pretend the car broke down and that’s why it’s gone to be repaired.

Only my head tells me that’s preposterous. That he’ll know. He’ll find out. And when he does he’ll be even more furious about the fact he’s been misled.

Well, I guess I can’t blame him for that.

A car drives past. Two faces turning to look at me before the fade off in a blur of heat and dust.

I wince. Yeah he’s going to know. The whole damn bay is going to hear how Rose Capulet was seen walking for miles like a tramp.

My heels pinch into my skin. I’m lucky I’m so used to wearing them that I know I can walk two miles without the height of them being an issue.

Another car drives past.

Then another.

I keep my face neutral, calm, as if this is perfectly normal. As if this is a regular thing I do.

I could turn back. I could.

But I don’t.

To do it now would be so much worse.

I could call a taxi too. But then I’d be stood at the side of the road and no doubt there’d be comments about that. I can just imagine my father’s face if he heard. The word ‘whore’ echoes in my head and it’s enough to make me pick up my pace. Make me stomp a little faster, ignoring the sweat that’s now beading across my brow, ignoring the ache of my muscles that I’d already destroyed in the gym.

“Do you need a lift?”

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