58. Millie
Millie
Randolph dragged Millie through the low tide toward a cliff. Water filled her trainers as he pulled her through the sea.
She screamed for help. He slapped her across the face, the echo of the crack punishing her ears as blood filled her mouth.
“Scream again, and I’ll shoot you dead,” he sneered. “I don’t care anymore. I’ve got nothing left to lose.”
He gripped the hood of her jumper. Sand from the beach clumped at the bottom of her jeans.
“You don’t have to do this,” she whispered.
“You said the same thing to Hugo yesterday. Look at how that worked out. They arrested him, and now, he’ll reveal my secrets, fucking prying girl.”
“You’re not doing this because you care about him?”
Randolph twisted her hood so it was so tight against her neck, it dug into her skin, choking her.
“I don’t care about that fuck-up. He’s been trouble since he was born. I wanted a child who would help me in my political ambitions, not ruin them. I could have been Prime Minister, but now, I’ll end up in jail. Once you’re dead, I’m leaving the country.”
Millie tripped as they climbed up the hill above the sea, her feet scrambling for purchase.
“Why do you want me dead? You could have escaped sooner.” No one knew where she was. Strike wouldn’t worry about her for another hour. Her freedom was down to her and her ability to persuade Randolph to ditch his plans.
“If it hadn’t been for you and Hugo, my business dealings would have gone unnoticed.
But he’ll sell me out. And my head of the police wife won’t stand by me anymore.
She turned a blind eye to my corruption, but when it comes out, she’ll be the first to lock me up.
If you’d kept your fucking mouth shut and taken the money, none of this would have happened. ”
He pulled her close to his face.
His stare flitted between her and the sky.
He reeked of alcohol, and his pupils were massive. “I couldn’t trust my son to get rid of you yesterday. As usual, the only person I can rely on is me.”
“You’re the one who shot at the car outside of the police station,” she said, searching for an escape. With Randolph as high as his son, negotiation was pointless.
“No shit.” He sneered and shoved his finger in her face, letting go of her. “You thought Hugo, with his cocaine shakes, could have done that? You’re a bunch of fucking amateurs. That snivelling shit couldn’t shoot a rat if his life depended on it.”
“You could’ve been caught.” She looked over his shoulder. There was a path higher up the cliff. She had no idea where it led, but the tide was coming in below, and swimming in the high waves and unpredictable swells could kill her.
“I wanted to watch you bleed. My wife would have made sure that the video ‘went missing,’ and I’d have sent Hugo away.”
“You knew the lawyer. He told you when we’d be at the police station.”
“He’s part of a firm helping me with my affairs.”
“Politician speak for hiding your fraud?”
He snarled at her. “We see the world differently, little girl. But he was willing to help me because, with the right amount of money, everyone can be bought.” He ground his teeth. “Nearly everyone.”
He continued to ramble about paying off different people and his plans to get her to his house.
Millie inched to the right so she was on the side of the cliff.
She wobbled, holding her breath, blood roaring in her ears, as she stared into the inky depths below.