Fated to You

Chapter 2: Back in Austin

Mrs. Armstrong walks within the mansion and heads straight to her office followed by two of her henchmen. She gives Antoine her coat and suitcase on the way, bidding him to have no one bother her for the next few hours. She opens her door office and finds Nick sitting down in one of the chairs in front of her Mahogany desk. His elbows propped on each of the armrests and her hands weaved together in front of her face as he stares into space, not noticing the arrival of Mrs. Armstrong in the room.

“Nick, I hope you have good news.” She takes off her vest to rest it on the headset of her chair then sits down.

Nick snaps out of his pensiveness, “They have been captured Mrs. Armstrong. They are unconscious at the moment so recollection of the last vents should be a bit of a blur.”

“Where are they?”

“They are up in one of the guests’ rooms. We snuck them in at dawn this morning.”

Mrs. Armstrong leans back on her chair, “That should be all Nick.” She says, dismissing Nick out of her office. She turns around in her chair and crosses her legs, “If you can’t beat them, you have to join them.”

She gets out of her office starts heading towards the grand staircase in the middle of the house and calls Antoine. Antoine is the only of the many occupants to know with what state the two vagrant girls came back in the mansion. He had been ordered by Mrs. Armstrong to get one of those unoccupied rooms ready and take care of any type of injury should there be some. And there were. Mrs. Armstrong had ordered for her goons to get them by any means necessary; even if it results in something dire nonetheless minimal enough that won’t get them paralyzed or dead but still bad enough until they give up or they stop by force. Antoine saunters towards Mrs. Armstrong with his formal wear and uptight composure that gave him an air of aristocracy.

“Mrs. Armstrong…” he simply asks in his monotone yet serious manner. One would think after years of working in this mansion, he’d be more or less attached. But he looks expressionless in his conduct of walking yet dignified in the maintenance of his appearance.

Mrs. Armstrong stops in front of the anticipative butler, “Antoine, which one of the guests’ rooms has the girls? I have no wish to wander around the mansion like a vagrant soul. I hate looking for things Antoine, you know that.”

Antoine nods, “I do know of that ma’am. The room is downstairs, right in front of the maid’s quarters. I thought this would be more discreet since the maids always clean the other rooms every day. They never touch that one; orders from you.”

“Alright. I’m heading there. Make sure you prepare them a salted bath.” Mrs. Armstrong walks pass the butler who keenly walks about to execute his employer‘s bidding. Mrs. Armstrong heads behind the grand staircase in direction of the hallway that leads to the maid’s quarters. She stops in front of small door and twists the key within the keyhole and opens the door. She finds both Becky and Freen asleep on the bed, side by side with their head wounds tended for. She walks towards the bed, near Becky’s side and touches the bandage around her head.

“I’m sorry dear. But time has come.” She says then sits on the small desk near the bed and waits for them to come to.

A few hours later in the evening, the first one to come to was Freen. She woke up screaming from the nightmare of being pursued and attacked by two SUV that were following her and Becky. Mrs. Armstrong was deep within a book that she was reading and jumps when the girl woke up screaming.

“You are asleep, you bother me. You wake up, you bother me. There’s just no peace with you when you are around.” Mrs. Armstrong snaps the book shut and slides down her glasses and places them on the desk.