Chapter 13

My first blood.

I’m staring back at the stranger that is sitting in front of me, realising that I have lost again. Lee has sold me to rat, and that’s why he knew where to look for me, that’s why Suranne had to die. Everything is crystal clear now.

“What’s your name?” I ask, hoping to find out more about the stranger, and maybe a way of getting out of here alive.

“Tahir,” he responds, scratching his beard. He is dressed in ordinary clothes, and he has a gun on him. I saw a glimpse of it when he shifted on the chair earlier on. “This can be pleasant or difficult. You have at least a couple of days here before the boss sorts his business elsewhere and shows up here to claim you.”

“What’s been going on? Why is Rudolf suddenly coming back to the city?” I ask, assessing if I really have only a couple more days of freedom left, before rat gets his hands on me. Tahir doesn’t look like he wants to answer, but I need to know everything.

“I don’t know. I’m only supposed to keep an eye on you,” he replies.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, shifting the heavy subject away.

“No, I ate earlier on.”

“Well, I’m going to make dinner. My stomach is growling,” I announce, heading to the kitchen. I start making myself busy, feeling him staring at me. I begin to wonder if there is a way for me to trick this man, if he has a weak spot that I can use for my advantage. He looks like he’s held someone captive before, and the gun confirms that he might be one of rat’s people.

I’m not a killer, but right now I don’t think I have any other choice. Tahir needs to be disabled, so I can leave, escape. When I check the fridge, I find more fresh vegetables, meat and fruit. He must have stocked it up when I was sleeping. Okay, so maybe he is not lying. I’ll be stuck here for a good few days.

I start on dinner, brainstorming ideas about getting out of here, wondering if I’m capable of hurting a man who hasn’t done anything to me. The rat is coming, and there is no way I’ll stay silent, waiting to be acquainted with the devil again. I had been in hell once, and I’m not planning on going back.

I have at least two days to make Tahir lose his focus. Now I just have to stay guarded and get him to trust me.

I grip the knife, telling myself that I can do this. I’m no longer seventeen, a hopeless girl from a rough estate. I’m someone else, a fighter.

***

Two long days pass by and each morning starts with a panic attack. In the night I keep wondering if today is the day when rat will arrive to take me away. The darkness is slowly creeping over me—my breathing speeds up, my chest cracks open, and everything is blurry. After I throw up in the bathroom, it takes me hours to pull myself back together, to be the strong Tahlia.

At least Tahir is not in the apartment to witness this. He vanishes early in the morning and comes back a few hours later, usually with more groceries and DVD’s. I force myself to talk to him, to flirt with him. My aim is to bond with him, to find a common ground. I know that he must be very loyal to rat. When push comes to shove and his boss won’t show, he might be authorised to kill me himself and I have to be ready.

During the whole two days, I brush my hands over his arm or back whatever chance I get, mainly when he is in the kitchen, or we relax on the sofa in front of the TV. That new flirtatious Tahlia scares me, but it’s either that or facing rat again.

Today is the third day I’ve been locked up in this fortress. Tahir is less moody when he arrives back from his morning patrol or whatever he was doing earlier on. I cook delicious pancakes for breakfast and keep telling myself that at some point today I need to take this whole flirting thing to the next level. The anxiety seeds doubts in my head. Rose isn’t ready; she hates being touched by any man other than Micah.

Tahir seems to have secrets, but also the guy most probably hasn’t gotten laid for a very long time and today I’ll use this to my advantage. Today I’m wearing the same clothes, but luckily for me my top is low cut and before he arrived I decided to ditch the hoodie. He noticed my cleavage when I made him a cup of tea earlier. Rat never showed any weakness, but Tahir is not him. He is just like any other man. Maybe rat isn’t as powerful as he used to be. In the past he never used to send anyone to take care of his business, but things changed.

“Damn, girl, you can cook. The pancakes are delicious,” Tahir says, after I slaved in the kitchen earlier to make something special. I lean down placing another cup of coffee in front of him, letting the strap of my top fall down. He notices and his eyes shimmer with twisted excitement.

“I’m glad you like it, at least now I have someone that appreciates it,” I say, with a wink. To him my teasing might be innocent, but I’m desperate to leave today, to get the hell out of here. The rat is on his way, and he is eager to get his hands on me. Probably the reason that I’m still alive is because he wants to finish me himself.

“Oh yes, I appreciate a good meal, and that stew last night was good too, so you know,” he adds. I walk over to the kitchen and put some pancakes on my plate, then sit at the table opposite him. My pulse is speeding up and that’s not a great sign. I can’t afford to have a panic attack right now; otherwise he won’t take the bait.

“So have you got a girlfriend? A guy like you has to be in a relationship, right?” I ask, yet again casually playing with my food.

“My mother wants to marry me with this girl from my street, but I don’t want to get tied up just yet,” he confesses, licking the sweet syrup off his face. I lean over, trying to reach for sugar. It doesn’t take him long to dart his gaze down and look over my boobs. I’ve been trying to prepare myself to let him touch me. With Micah it was natural. I was never scared of him, but this guy is a stranger. Rose Waltham never hurt anyone; she let other people to take advantage of her. Tahlia on the other hand is willing to do anything in order to survive. I’m her now. Rose died when Micah left her in the hospital.

“What’s wrong with that girl?”

“Nothing. She is from a good family. Educated and pretty.”

“Then what’s wrong?” I press.

“I have plenty of time. I like to enjoy myself, if you know what I mean.”

I nod, and pick up our plates when he is finished. I get up and sway my hips from one side to the other when I walk back to the kitchen, hoping that he is staring.

“So, you are up for some fun instead, right?” I ask, standing by the sink. The tiny voice in my head tells me that he caught the hint. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me since I started this game. This is my chance.

I feel him approaching me from behind a moment later. I purposely left the kitchen knife on the counter. I stare at my own reflection, telling myself that I’m only doing what is necessary, what I have to do in order to survive. My plan might be sick, and horrifying, but it’s right.

“Oh yeah, I like a bit of fun and it looks like you do too,” he whispers, pressing his hand around my waist unexpectedly. I set this up, flirted with him for three days straight, cooked for him and he is finally making a move.

I suck in a breath, knowing that everything in life has its price. I laugh and turn around.

“You read me well, Tahir,” I mutter and push his body that stinks of cigarettes and booze closer. “I bet you are a breast man, aren’t you? I’ve seen you watching me. I know you’ve thought about them, haven’t you? I’ve thought about you too. I bet you would love to kiss them, wouldn’t you? I bet you’ve been wondering how I taste?” I say whilst gently stroking my cleavage seductively.

He grins and my entire body scorches with anxiety.

“You have no idea, girl.”

He licks his lips and leans over to my boobs. His tongue starts moving over my cleavage. Panic squeezes my chest as I lift my eyes, trying to concentrate on the fact that I have to stand him for a couple more seconds. I hear him moaning and I reach out and grab the knife. More apprehension claws through me, forcing my breath in and out as I keep my gaze on the top of his head. His hands begin to wander underneath my T-shirt, and soon his cold fingers start to trace the lines on my stomach. I grit my teeth hard, pretending that this isn’t even happening to me, that his tongue is not moving down to my nipple.

I reach out, opening my eyes wide, taking long pulls of air. God won’t forgive me for this, and I most probably won’t forgive myself, but I can’t stay here, I can’t be a slave again. I stab him with whatever strength I have inside me. The knife goes into his back and he screams, jerking away from me. His eyes are wild, wide, staring straight at me as he stumbles on his feet.

“What the fuck have you done?” he stutters.

“What was necessary,” I shout and push him so he stumbles again and again until he loses his balance and crashes down on his side, moaning in agony. The knife is stuck in his back and blood pours out of his wound, spilling everywhere.

He starts coughing with blood, lifting his hands for me to help him. I move around him before I change my mind. I have been watching him for three days, and I know that he has a gun somewhere in his room. I need to get my hands on it fast.

I run to the bedroom and I start rampaging through the drawers, breathing like someone is going to walk through this door at any moment. I throw everything on the floor, mainly pulling out some papers and his change of clothes.

After five minutes I locate the gun. It’s under the bed, along with his passport. There is no money and no credit cards, so I might be slightly screwed. I have seen Josh playing with his gun plenty of times, so using it can’t be that difficult. I secure it under the belt of my jeans and run. Back in the living room, Tahir’s eyes are closed. He is still breathing, well, barely, lying in a pool of thick blood. I lean down and start searching his jacket and jeans for the keys. He moans, trying to move, but I shove his hand away. It takes a while, but I find them.

My hands are shaking when I unlock the door. I get through the first door, then run downstairs and then I get to another door with a complicated lock. By the time I’m finally out of the apartment, standing in the long white corridor, my heart is just about to jump out of my chest.

I ditch the lift; it’s too risky, because I never know who is waiting for me on the other side. I keep running downstairs, adrenaline rushing through my veins, pushing me to move faster. I can’t go back to Micah and Tequila. They might have been taken. Besides, Lee knows about that flat. I have no money on me and no ID. My only option is to disappear.

Down in the lobby, I walk towards the exit, hiding my face underneath the hoodie when the security guard looks up.

When my lungs inhale the fresh air, for a second I stand there, inhaling the smell of freedom for the first time in days. There is no one suspicious waiting for me outside, so I turn to the right and start walking.

I have no sense of direction and I’m wanted by the police. First things first. I need to get some money, and then I’ll figure out what to do, where to go. My mind keeps fighting with the images of Tahir lying on the floor, with the smell of blood. I need to focus. I’m not Rose anymore. I won’t survive being weak.

London seems large and scary. There are so many people on the street just passing by with no real idea what is going on around them. I keep looking behind me, making sure that I’m not being followed. The apartment was located in Fulham and now I’m a distance away from it. I see the tube stations and ask someone for directions. I need to get out of this neighbourhood; it’s too risky to do anything. I need to wait until the evening, find some obscure off licence or a betting shop and get some money. It’s not the greatest plan, but it’s the only way to survive.

My heart beats with enormous speed as I keep walking, thinking about Micah. My stomach contracts painfully. He is just past memory now. He made a choice to help, to get me out of that mental hospital. Now, I’m on my own, and I can’t risk getting back to him or Tequila. I bet they are being watched by rat’s people.

I keep walking, keep going wherever my feet take me. After some time I collapse on a bench in the park, trying to catch my breath. At least now I’m out of Fulham. I must have been walking for hours, because later on when I get up, I’m back in a rougher part of the city. It’s a good area, filled with ordinary, lower class people. It’s cold and it starts raining, and I’m shivering. Sleeping rough in this weather might kill me. When I spot a betting shop around the corner, I head straight there.

It’s quarter past four, and the darkness is slowly shading the streets when the door announces my arrival. There are only two customers inside and a woman cashier. My hands are shaking, and sweat rolls down my face. Rose tells me to stop this nonsense, that I can get to a church or a women’s shelter, but I dismiss her voice.

I walk up to the cashier and pull out my gun.

“Money on the table or I’ll splash your brains all over that wall!”