Chapter 10: abandoned home

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 18

1 week earlier.

This was the first time I’ve ever felt safe. He was cradling me, in his arms, on the worn out small sofa in his sitting room. I had known before that his family hadn’t come from money, and I could tell anyway from the house, but I didn’t care. In fact…I kind of liked it. the cosiness, the seclusion, I often thought my house felt like a museum of overpriced artwork, and cold Stoney statues this was a much needed difference.

It was so quiet, so peacefully quite. I would usually of taken that as a sign that something was wrong, but I knew sitting in his arms that it wasn’t. I couldn’t explain it. being here, with him, felt like the feeling you get when you arrive back home after months of being away. Only this time, I had more than months, and I’d never had a home to begin with. It was ben that broke the silence first

“you know, I think we’ve baffled everyone, even me, at how serious this has become” he mumbled inti my hair

“what do you mean?”

“I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. Ever. It’s…scary, and also exiting”

“it hasn’t baffled me”

“no? are you just some kind of emotions expert then?” he smiled against my shoulder

“possibly, how would you know?”

“I wouldn’t, you tell me nothing”

I could feel a slither of tension cut through the moment. He was right, I had told him nothing. Nothing aside from the conversation we had in the alleyway, and I thought that was forgotten after he kissed me. clearly not. I sat up from his surprisingly lean chest. I didn’t know he worked out.

“ben, just please understand that whatever I tell you could land you in serious danger. I don’t want you anywhere near danger, or me to be honest, but I can’t help that”

“i could take it, you know. What if I have secrets too? Ever thought About that?”

I grinned at him “ben, I could read you like a magazine, there is not a chance that there is something about you that I don’t know”

He looked at me for a second, it seemed like my comment had hurt him, as if he hadn’t realised just how much I knew about him from looks alone. But I couldn’t blame him. He doesn’t know the extent of my training. The challenge in his eyes diminished quickly though, like he had tucked it away to be replaced with a smile and “if you say so”


Present day

“ so he had no suspicious activity then, nothing that you know would be a cause for concern” dad had been pacing the minute I walked into his office, which was already a bad sign, dad only paces when stuff has seriously turned to shit. I could also see several cups of coffee scattered along on glass tables and fancy metal coasters which keep your coffee warm, like he had put each one down in a rush and then forgotten it was there.

“no, he acted normal Infront of me” I watched for another minute or so, as he continued turning on his foot at ever glass window before I asked “can you please tell me what’s going on? What’s his deal then? how come we didn’t pick up on it?”

He stared at me for a second, as if debating on what percentage of the truth he could tell me, before finally saying “ben, as you know him, was apart of the family. He was the son”

Worry, anger, adrenaline, and fear all came flossing into my bloodstream, like someone had just knocked down a very sturdy wall to my emotions. This was bad. Like really fucking bad.

“and why did no one background check him? Did you all just decide that random teenage boy who has taken an interest in my international spy of a daughter was all fine and dandy. Nobody is fucking fine and dandy if they choose to be around me, dad!”

“then why didn’t you background check him!? If your such a all important ‘international spy’ why didn’t you bother to actually do your job”

“because I thought you would! Not as my boss, but as my dad, I thought you would have a minute amount of care about your daughters wellbeing and safety”

“don’t bullshit me! I sent you across the fucking country to protect you after what you’d done!”

“after what I’d done, are you fucking joking? Is this now all my fault then?”

“when you take 100 explosive bombs inside a hotel, and kill some of the most important politician,  and there families, yes it is your fucking fault!”

We fell silent. Nobody ever discusses that. So don’t expect me to tell you.

“what is his game plan then, the ‘ ben’ guy” I said, in a calmer tone, better to take both our attention off the argument.

“I believe he wants to kill you. it would make sense anyway, considering what you did to his whole family…” he drawls off, muttering the last part so it would seem less relevant. It was not.

“so what do you want to do about it?” he said to me.


“what do you want to do, with him and stuff, you’re the one who’s in love with him, you decide”

Dad had never let me decide things before. Not on this scale. And especially not after the situation.

I breathed in, remembering the handful of treasured times we had together, the feeling of home and safe when I was with him, the kiss, the confession of love, the acceptance of my psychotic past. And the knowledge that it was all a lie.

“I want to kill him”


Submitted: August 05, 2022

© Copyright 2022 Madeline TH. All rights reserved.


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