Page 42 of A Twist of Poison

I took the bait, laid open for me, and snatched it up with quick and painful movements. I worked my way through his phone, which displayed absolutely nothing, no unusual contacts either. I huffed, frustrated.

Just as I decided to put it back and make sure nothing looked out of place, I spotted an unnamed app. I must have accidentally swiped past it before. It had its own page with the noticeable design of the tribal red pattern matching the card I pocketed from his apartment. I clicked into it and was met with a blank wall full of password protected content.

Mentally deciding that I needed to become a hacker so I could brute force my way through this protected content, I snickered a small laugh. It was completely inappropriate considering the position I found myself in, but who cared? Because what didn’t kill you gave you a hell of a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and a real depraved, dark sense of humour.

The phone pinged loudly with an incoming message, and I frantically slid the button to turn it on silent mode. I held my breath and the phone tightly, and crept down the hallway. The shower was being turned off. I’d got minutes, maybe seconds, until he came out and I couldn’t be holding his phone when he did. God knows what punishment I’d receive for that.

I paced back into the living room with light-footed movements, sneaking a look at the message from an unknown number with an address, nothing else given. I placed it back to its position on the arm of the couch as I branded that address into my mind to investigate much later when he wasn’t clipping at my heels.

I moved to the kitchen, taking items I needed out of the fridge for a sandwich. I’d sliced the bread in half with a sharp knife as he paraded back in the room classily suited up. He was leaving. The knife felt like a heavy weight in my fingers and I placed it gently down on the counter, my eyes pinned to it as my fingers hovered over the handle, not fully letting it go. I pondered… could I? Would I? Should I?

“You’re getting brave, little angel,” he commented, laughter laced in his voice. “Or very delusional.”

It had been getting more difficult to hold back the revulsion I harboured for him. It had become an entity of its own, leaking out unwillingly through my pores, wanting to strike at him, to hurt him, maim him. Serve him a platter of vengeance that would be highly justified.

“If I’m delusional, it’s due to you.” I grabbed my sandwich, placing it on a plate and slid onto one of the bar stools.

His gaze hardened. “I’ve got somewhere to be. This conversation isn’t over.” I dismissed his words, taking a bite of the sandwich as he left.It’s never over.

My sandwich had long since been eaten, I slid off the bar stool in thought.Always thinking. My mind was always churning at a million miles per hour.

I started the routine of getting myself ready. The water of the shower made me cringe each time it hit a sore part of my body. Even turning the pressure on the dial down didn’t help but I carried on. As I skimmed the washcloth over my skin, I sighed in relief at the familiar vanilla body wash, the scent tethering me to a slice of normality.

I dried off, feeling a bit more like myself. Brushing my teeth and throwing on some clothes, I piled on the makeup covering up lingering dark tiredness marks present and pronounced beneath my eyes.

Done. I smiled at myself in the mirror and grimaced at how fake it came across. Anyone would see straight through that today if I bumped into them.

I plopped down in the back of the Uber that was awaiting me as I came downstairs and buckled my seatbelt. It dropped me a few streets away from my destination because I wasn’t stupid.

Anxiety threatened to burst as my chest tightened the closer I got to the address. Getting closer, the buildings became fewer and the space opened up to several large warehouses. I got out of the car, I kept my head down, not wanting to draw attention to myself and hoping people who were milling about in and out of buildings didn’t question me. I veered round the corner and found the one I’d been searching for.

It was bland, it didn’t stand out at all. A large dark brick building greeted me with grey cladding at the top that trailed round to the side where you could see large vehicle accessibility, windows at its highest point and a wide glass doorway showcasing a reception area. I approached cautiously.

Peeking around, I noticed how quiet it was. There was no obvious movement around this building at all, which was unusual, the business day was close to finishing. You’d think there’d be a flurry of activity at a substantial warehouse of this size. I shrugged it off as the doors glided open automatically. The stillness wanted to lull me into a false sense of calmness.

I strolled through, still guarded, noticing the lines of shelving and boxes before I carried on, making my way towards a heavy back door that I pushed carefully forward. I felt as if I’d stepped into another dimension. It was… extravagant. I turned back, poking my head back through the door.Yep, still a warehouse.

As it closed behind me, I moved cautiously down, opening ample doors on display finding rooms with couches, tables and chairs. Venturing further down a staircase ahead, the cold bite of a temperature change made me realise I’d stepped underground. The more doors I opened, what was behind them got progressively worse.

I wet my lips, my posture rigid as I discovered bedroom upon bedroom. Some with a lack of furniture except a made bed, some with sex toys and furniture that I recognised as being used within the BDSM department.

But the worst that made my whole body freeze momentarily were the rooms draped in heavy black cloth hanging from ceiling to floor, with matching bedding. A void of blackness… with professional cameras positioned with its focus on the bed area. A heaviness settled over me like a stone in my gut. This was so much worse than I ever realised.

I wanted—no,needed—answers, but I didn’t want the disgusting knowledge of this. It filled my head with the worst potential scenarios and I was positive my thoughts didn’t even touch the wickedness that coated the furniture in these rooms.

I stumbled out and blindly followed more doors, coming across a spacious office. I followed my gut instinct, and started to fling open cupboards and desk drawers hungry for something.Anything.

Just give me a thread I could tug. I found that thread. God, did I, in a file inside a bottom drawer. I flicked through pages upon pages of pictures, names and…oh fuck.

Squeezing my eyes shut, “No, no no no.” I wailed, not wanting to believe what I was seeing, what was staring straight back at me in the face. Hard evidence of his involvement, one of the few people I would have guaranteed to be the furthest away from this situation possible.No…

Did he know all along what was happening to me? Was it happening to me because of him? Did he volunteer me? I clutched my stomach, feeling sick to the pit of it. Bile rose in my throat.

I stumbled back, hitting the wall and slid down. Pure shock. I didn’t even feel the pain in my body. Tears that I begrudged leaked from the corners of my eyes and tracked down my face. The lessons I continued to learn; it seemed that anybody could betray anyone no matter how much you thought they’d never do it. I was empty.

I’d never known for certain, but I took an educated guess that somebody was pullinghisstrings. When I’d returned to East Bay, I realised many things didn’t add up. Pieces started falling into place, leading me to doubt his treatment of me and the reasoning behind it. I could sense the difference, however much I was kept in the dark.

My mind whirled with an overload of information as I fled from the warehouse closing every single door I opened, leaving everything just the way it was. I took one last glance at each room I entered, including the hallways on my way out, triple checking for hidden cameras. None that I could see, thankfully.

---