FLYING | Sequel of FALLEN (NaNoWriMo 2022 WINNER)

54.

Marcel and I walk through the house only armed with the first things we saw, books and an umbrella. We only let ourselves breathe when we have checked everywhere and we are convinced we are alone in the house.

We make our way back to the dining room and look at the pictures scattered on the table. I swallow hard when I see the delicate nature of some of these pictures. Tears prick my eyes, and panic rises inside of my body. I rush to Marcel to take him in my arms, knowing full well he shares the same state of emergency.

The last time I felt him shake like that was last night during his post-orgasmic bliss. But nothing is the same. We knew there were threats, but now it's real. There are hundreds of pictures of us. In London. In Manchester. Even when we were on tour in the US. There are pictures of me at my stand at Waterstones. There are pictures of us getting into Marcel's flat building. But I freeze when I see a picture of us, having sex, at the dungeon.

Tears fall silently from my eyes. I can't describe the level of disbelief I feel inside. I am way past panic now. I feel mentally destroyed. The dungeon is supposed to be a safe space. No pictures are allowed. This can't be. The more I look at the pictures layed on the table, the more I notice we have been followed for a long time.

With rage boiling inside of Marcel, I stop him from throwing the pictures off the table in a tantrum. I put myself between him and the table just in time to block his sudden rush of violence from risking our only chance to get Mister Alexander arrested.

"Marcel, don't! There could be handprints. We need to get that to the police immediately. Go fetch some gloves and a big book like an atlas or something." I let out calmly, which doesn't translate at all my state of mind. He looks at me, out of breath and panicked, but ultimately leaves me alone in the room.

With the end of the umbrella I'm still holding strong, I gather all the pictures together. Tears blur my vision yet again, so I don't see what's underneath.

"Oh my... This can't be happening!" Marcel's voice breaks behind me. I blink away the tears to see him, see what else could be worse than all of this. I swallow hard, and stop breathing altogether when I hear Mace's voice read over my shoulder, choking again. "Don't testify. Don't go to the police. You're dead."

I take my cell phone, my tears falling endlessly from my eyes, filming everything on the table, the threats, the pictures, everything, and without thinking this through, I send the video to Simon. If we die today, he'll know why, he'll know who, and he'll know what to do.

"Go check on your mum." I demand as I slide the gloves on and put all the pictures in the book I asked him.

He runs outside and I hurry upstairs. I take a bag and put the little amount of personal belongings we have with us here. I take a second bag and fill it with Marcel's things. I feel my cellphone vibrate incessantly as I rush to Edith's room. It's my brother. I pick up and put him on speaker, throwing my phone on the bed.

"Grace! Where are you?" Simon exclaims in panic, he's seen the video.

"I'm at Marcel's family house. I'm packing our stuff. We are getting out of here."

"How did this happen?"

"We were in New York getting married. We just got back."

"You got married!?"

"Marcel feared this exact situation."

"Grace!? Where are you?" I hear my husband scream from the level below. I instantly respond to not let him think the worst.