30
My first task whenever I started a shift was to ensure the kitchen was free of trash, food scraps, and the stainless-steel benches were spotless. There were four black plastic bags of rubbish by the door, and I opened the exit into the alleyway, grabbed two bags, and threw them into the large dumpbin.
Parked horizontally at the end of the alleyway was the familiar unmarked police car waiting for me to notice. Damn. I wish Bitchtective would stop doing that. It’s difficult to be discreet when the cops keep turning up to talk to me.
As the window wound down, I started walking toward the vehicle, and I could see her blond hair in the dark. But then something changed. The car engine revved, and the window was buzzed back up again as Bitchtective sped away, and I stood there confused by her behavior.
When I turned back, I slammed into a solid brick, stumbled backward to find an imposing figure towering over me, two black and soulless eyes glaring at me as if I were dirt.
“S-sorry, Mr. Kaiser. I didn’t see you there.” I stepped aside to go around him, and then spotted Ronan standing at the door blocking my way.
The devil had come to collect. This was my end. Something had changed. They knew that I was not who I seemed and the devil was pissed.
I had no choice but to run. I took two steps forward before a hand grabbed my wrist and yanked my back, and my body smacked against his solid body.
“What’s going on?” I asked for fear that I was mistaken. I had to keep up the pretense right until the very end.
“Pat her down,” he ordered Ronan. “Check her pockets.”
Ronan stood behind me, sandwiching me between two towering men. Cologne infiltrated my senses, heat blistered my skin, and guilt burned my soul.
His hot hands brushed along my sides, then over my butt cheeks, then finally stopping at my pants pockets where he discovered a small hard disc. I tried to wrestle against them, but it was no use. They overpowered me, not interested in listening to my pleas, nor were they fooled by my tears.
Ronan’s hand plunged into my pocket, and I swallowed over a lump in my throat as my entire body froze. He took the disc out and held it up to the light. “It’s the same,” he stated dryly, disappointed in me.
“I didn’t know it was there,” I cried out, sounding stupid. But what else could I say? I had nothing left.
Mikael yanked my arm, dragging me back to the club. “Check her locker,” he directed Ronan. “Bring me her things.”
“Done,” Ronan replied.
As I was being wrangled, I glanced back at Ronan, whose beautiful face was clouded in hopeless disappointment and shame. I let him down, and now he hates me. Every fragment of love he had for me was gone in that moment, and I didn’t know if he’d ever forgive me.
With his claws latched onto my arm, the devil hauled me into the club under the stairs, swung open a door that I hadn’t noticed before, and then led me down a narrow hallway. He turned right to an area of private, lavish lounge rooms I hadn’t known existed.
“You’re hurting me,” I cried out, fearful for where he was taking me.
He refused to loosen his grip, nor would he speak to me, flinging me about like a ragdoll. I glanced behind me, searching for someone to scream out to, but the club hadn’t opened yet, and the only staff working were in the kitchen, which felt like a million miles away.
His hand touched a book on the shelf, pulled it back, and the bookshelf slid open. Horror engulfed me as it occurred to me that he was about to imprison me in a hidden room somewhere.
The devil hauled me up the dark wooden stairs, and as my hand hunted for something to grab hold of, I was met with a flat wall covered in boudoir paper.
We came to another hallway, dimly lit and lined with empty rooms, as the scent of perfume and cleaning products infiltrated my senses. The floorboards shuddered under me with every angry footstep, a volcano about to erupt, a torpedo about to fire. He restrained his fury, yet I could feel simmering rage tremble into my flesh from his clenching grip.
“No,” I screamed in desperation, grasping onto the tiny string of hope that they might forgive me and let me go.
I needed to live. I wanted to live. I was too young to die. I had a future as a marine biologist. This couldn’t not be how my life ended.
We came to the last room that contained four post queen size bed, draped in deep red satin sheets, black straps attached to the bed and handcuffs screwed to the wall. It was a windowless room, deadly quiet and hidden away, an attic no one knew was here, embedded in mysteries and riddles.
In silence, his incredible strength tossed me onto the bed. Then he turned his back and walked out, slamming the door behind him. I raced to the door to try the handle just as the locks clicked, and my heart ached as his footsteps grew distant.
When I couldn’t hear him anymore, I tried the handle again, shaking the door with all my strength. When that didn’t work, I opened the closet door to find a small bathroom, a shower, and a toilet. There was no window, but there was an air conditioning duct, my only access to the outside.
I heard the locks click and stepped out to see who had arrived. Ronan’s pale eyes meet my gaze, quickly looking away. “Your bag,” he stated, throwing it onto the bed.
“Ronan, please,” I dropped to my knees and clung to his waist, begging for him to release me. “Please don’t do this to me. It’s not my fault, Ronan. Please. Ronan, please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
It was difficult for him to walk away with me attached to him, so he gripped my wrists and peeled me off him, and when I tried to grab him again, he snatched my wrists and held them above my head, locking me into a submissive position.
“You did this,” his voice grave and frightening. “You did this to yourself.”
“No,” I begged, crying tears streaming down my cheeks. “Please, Ronan, please. It was them. They made me do this.”
He wasn’t in the mood to hear my argument and stalked away. Just before closing the door on me, he said, “I’ll bring you some clothes later.”
“Later?” I yelled after him as he shut the door on my pleas, slicing me in two. “How long are you going to keep me here?”
My bag lay on the bed and I grabbed it to search for my phone, unsurprised to find it gone. I tried to think optimistically and hoped that when they scrolled through my messages, they’d realize I was here by force.
I was screwed over too and I had no choice but be a spy for the Larsson Police dept. Then a terrible thought occurred to me. Did any of the messages between Bitchtective indicate that I was not Riley Laws, but someone else?
Did the detective refer to me by my birthname, the girl who was taken into the Kaiser’s home, only for her to betray them in the worst way possible? I shut my eyes, replaying every text message and every phone call with her, yet I couldn’t remember.
I hadn’t had the new phone for long after my previous phone was broken, so there weren’t many exchanges. However, if they opened the back of the phone, they’d discover the tracking device, and my heart sank again.
It was bad enough that the Kaisers discovered that I had bugged them under their noses, but it would be even worse if they discovered that I was the girl they had been searching for.
I am the girl who fabricated a lie that got Mikael arrested for a crime he didn’t commit. After the damage was done, I went into hiding under the Witness Protection Scheme and became someone else with a new name, a new face, and a new past.
Reality had finally caught up with me, and I always knew this would come. It was time to face my makers, tell them who I was, and endure whatever punishment they inflicted on me.
The Bitchtective laid out the coal and wood, but I lit the fire.
I am the girl who caused their pain as a tradeoff to relieve the pain of my kin.
I am Annika.
To be continued…