CHAPTER 23 - ARIANNA
CHAPTER
Arianna
M Y HANDS TREMBLE, but this time it’s for the right reasons. Pressing myself up against the door, I check there’s no sound from the other side. This might be a double-blind - the phone left visible to tempt me into taking the bait, but there’s only silence.
I rush back over to the window and bring the phone to life, grateful there’s no lock screen.
I feel a tiny bit bad that I pinched that woman’s mobile, but needs must.
Now, what is the best number to ring? Papà’s office? The home phone? His mobile? Which?
It’s not like it matters as long as I get through. I’ll even ring my sister if needs be. That’s if any of them are still alive...
Blinking back tears, I make my decision. The office is the most likely place to reach my Papà. My sweaty fingers fumble and slip as I press the digits into the mobile.
“That’s not a good idea.”
As the phone disappears from my hand, I spin around. How the hell did he get in here undetected? I glare at Red deleting the digits I’d entered. “Give me that back.”
“I shall do no such thing.” Turning the phone off, he puts it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
I lurch towards him, my balled fists making contact with his chest with zero effect.
“I said, give me that back!” I’m screaming but I don’t care.
“If you don’t have the decency to tell me what you’ve done to my family, then I’ll find out myself!
” I continue fruitlessly punching his hard chest. “I need to know they’re all right.
I won’t let you treat me like this! You bastard! You’re...”
Red’s arm shoots out to block my rain of pathetic punches, my forearms taking the brunt. I recoil from the immediate deadening effect on my arms and want to cry with frustration.
He walks casually over to the window and regards me with cold amusement. His anger is evident, but he’s controlling it a lot better than I am. “You’re a sneaky cow! First you tried to run, and now you’re stealing phones! Are you trying to get us all killed?”
“I want to kill you !” I spit. “What have you done to my parents?”
My tears push forward at the thought of my Papà, mother, and sister being mown down in a rain of bullets; my brother getting gunned down the second he steps back on English soil. “Just fucking tell me!”