Page 37 of The Devil Can Be Kind

Cool air conditioning hit my skin and a bubbly woman at the front desk greeted me. Her eyes immediately darted to the two men stood behind me and her mouth slackened in surprise.

Guess it’s not every day that two meat-head security details wander into a hair salon,I mused.

Four hours later, my radical new look was complete.

My severely grown-out, shit-bright blonde was finally gone, replaced with a color that more closely resembled my natural raven hair. I finally looked likemeagain.

Not the Adalyn Parker me, but themeI was before everything changed seven years ago. I was officially giddy with satisfaction.

With one swipe of my new credit card, I was done and heading back to the car with Alonso. Tom reappeared from wherever he had disappeared off to for the last few hours and reclaimed the driver’s seat.

“Where to now, Ma’am?” Alonso questioned once we were all inside.

“Hmm.” I contemplated for a moment.

I was feeling good. The best I had felt in weeks in fact, and I didn’t want to go back just yet. I had only just begun to taste freedom after all…so I quickly devised a plan.

“Shopping. Is there a shopping center or something around here?” I questioned.

“Absolutely, Ma’am.” Alonso nodded and Tom started the car, peeling out into the road as we continued on our journey.

The drive this time took just under an hour as we made our way along countless busy streets, driving further and further toward central Chicago. We didn’t stop until we hit the infamous Michigan Avenue, which, as predicted, was heaving with crowds of people.

Tom somehow managed to pull the car to a stop as close to the shopping center as possible. Car horns immediately soundedbehind us, but neither man seemed to care. Alonso got out with me and walked us inside Water Tower Place while Tom drove around to find parking.

Countless floors circled above us as we entered, each holding a seemingly endless warren of shops, well-known brands and restaurants. Endless opportunities to use my credit card awaited, and I certainly didn’t blanch at the chance to use it.

For the rest of the afternoon, I managed to drag the impassive Alonso from shop to shop, only stopping once for a quick bite to eat. Somewhere along the way, Tom joined us, and he too followed my every move.

To my amusement, both men refused to accompany me when I insisted on going into ‘Victoria’s Secret’, preferring to stand outside like doormen to a nightclub instead. I went a bit wild without their presence reigning me in and racked up an almost one-thousand-dollar bill in the process.

Marco’s gonna feel that.

Then a devilish idea popped into my head.

With my evil plan quickly coming together, I passed my white and pink bags over to the men and headed off in search of the more luxury brands I truly adored. After five minutes and the help of Google maps, I found my way inside Bloomingdales and the place of dreams.

Michael Kors?Not a problem.

Gucci?Don’t mind if I do!

Another two hours later and at least $5,000 lighter, I was exhausted but fully satisfied with myself.

Was it mature of me to spend a shit load of money in retribution for a few weeks being kept as a hostage? Probably not. But, did it make me feel better about it? Hell yeah, it did!

Once all the bags and boxes had been loaded into the vehicle, we weaved through the traffic heading back in the general direction of the mansion.

I pulled out my phone and realized I had received a few unread messages from Jesse while I was out.

Jesse: Wat is taking so long?

Jesse: HELLO?

Just then my phone buzzed again, and a new message popped up.

Jesse: Bandit! Marco wants you 2 join 4 dinner 2night. Serving @8pm

I fought against the urge to gulp at the invitation. Last night hadn’t exactly been pleasant and I didn’t think I could take any more bad news so soon.

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