Dangerous Trio

Joy Ride

The whole situation felt like a bad dream, replaying over and over in my mind. I was unaware of just what Hannibal's plans were for us, but I knew it wasn't good. Hannibal had instructed me to give my two weeks notice. I immediately protested, I yelled and screamed as if that would do any good. Hannibal was unbothered and reminded me of the contract.

"Once the hard parts are over, you will be happy. I promise." He said one morning,  sipping his coffee.

I wasn't sure what he meant by "hard parts." Hannibal had typed up my resignation letter for me. I handed it in with sorrow in my eyes, stating that I had an opportunity to go to law school. I tried to sound convincing, but everyone was a bit shocked. They knew how much I loved my job at the firm, and I had never mentioned any interest in law school before. My going-away party was set for the following week.

As I started packing my duffel bag, I thought about how Hannibal wanted to continue my therapy even while he was out of town. Like the slave I felt I was, I followed him on every trip. This week, he was working with Will on a murder case three hours North. Hannibal was going to pick me up after his last client. I always overpacked, fearing Hannibal's unpredictability and the possibility of an extended stay. I swear my wardrobe started to imitate his, becoming just as theatrical. When we walked side by side, it was clear we were together. I didn't know how Will was supposed to fit into all of this. When things settled down, Hannibal and I bonded over fashion, and he even curated my outfits. I was allowed to wear only white, gray, black, brown and red. Every item he purchased for me looked bleak in color, like I worked at a funeral home. I wore heels most of the time, and by evening my arches ached with pain. I was embarrassed, parading around with him like some trophy. Most days I sat in the hotel room doing research for him until he got back. I never questioned anything he needed, after all I couldn't. I now knew Hannibal's dark side was more promenade than I thought.

My nightmares had tapered off, but during my sessions, I still saw Hannibal doing horrible things. When I woke, I quickly made something up, like my ex strangling me or feelings of abandonment. I often wondered what it would be like if I told him the truth, if I just said what I was really seeing. In the most beautiful way, he terrified me. I folded my dress and zipped the bag. My apartment was starting to look desolate. Hannibal had suggested it was best to live with him, so I needed to start packing.

If you had told me six months ago that this would be my life, I wouldn't have believed you. It felt like a horror movie. Just thinking about it made my stomach turn. I still couldn't get over the fact that Hannibal had manipulated me into signing something that could be so detrimental. I didn't fully know what was in the contract, and I tried to push that part out of my mind. Hannibal wanted me to trust him, so I will.

My phone soon vibrated. I knew it was Hannibal. He was already parked out front, waiting for me. I switched off all the lights and grabbed my coat. With my bag in hand, I stopped to take a deep breath before walking out the door. I had no idea what awaited me. As I walked down the steps Hannibal soon took my bag and placed it in the rear of the vehicle. The black Bentley gently hummed, and for some reason this sound was haunting. I was about to step into the car with someone I had seen killing me multiple times.

I settled into my seat, ready to fall asleep for a couple of hours. We wouldn't arrive until past midnight, and I doubted I could stay awake that long. However, Hannibal was a master of engaging conversation. He drew me in with tantalizing snippets about the case he was going to consult on. Will had already spent three days combing through the evidence, but now it was Hannibal's turn to dive into the investigation. Some of the things he mentioned didn't sound possible, in fact they sounded like they were made up or from a movie. There was a killer on the loose who apparently delved into the less ordinary styles of killing.

"Does talking about this make you uncomfortable?" Hannibal asked staring onto the road

"I don't really have an opinion on it" I wasn't in the mood for talking

"You have no opinion on murder?" He glanced over

I could tell this conversation was about to get darker than I'd like.

"People kill for different reasons, it's none of my business." I protested

"Have you ever thought of killing Gabriella?" His tone sent chills over my body.

I didn't answer, letting the silence creep in.

"You never thought about killing your abuser?" He added

There it was, like bait on a hook—Hannibal was trying to rile me up.

"At one point, yes. Not anymore," I said, looking out the window, not wanting him to see my face.

"Why the change of heart?" Hannibal asked

"Because I've chosen to forgive. It doesn't mean I'll forget what he did to me." I was stone-faced now, sensing Hannibal trying to read me from the corner of my eye. I prayed he would let this conversation go, and thankfully, he did.

I dozed off to the sound of the tires on the road. There was something comforting about it. Hannibal gently rubbed my shoulder to wake me up once we got to the hotel. It was just off the highway, modern and sleek. Hannibal took my bag and led the way. Inside, the room was spacious, but my attention was quickly drawn to the bed. We had slept in the same bed before, but this time it felt different—more intimate. I couldn't explain it, but it put me on edge, however I knew that with him near me, there was nothing else I needed to fear—because he was the scariest thing.