Forget Me Not

Chapter Twelve- Truth Will Out

The car is going so fast. I dread to think how many miles per hour it's travelling.
If it goes any more faster I fear the seat will go forward and he will know I'm in the boot. I wonder if the other police car is on our trail, if they are coming to the rescue. What if they lose sight of this car? Where was the masked man going? If he finds out I'm in the boot i'll be pretty much dead.
I stay as quiet as I can be, my hands shaking as they clasp around my head as I try and sit still and scrunch up as much as I can. I worry that if I hold on to anything I will make a sound. Maybe if the man had put the radio on he wouldn't hear me if i made a noise but I doubt that was the last thing an escaped lunatic had in mind.

I start to feel a little car sick, with the car spinning and turning every which way. My stomach turns with the car. I almost wish it was going the normal speed. Then maybe the officers would rescue me. At least Camille is safe, and at least I have met my mother after all this time. If I don't get rescused now at least I have done what I came here to do.

The car continues at the fast speed and turns to a sharp bend.  It then halts to a complete and sudden stop.
I jerk forward, but so does the seat in front of me. I try and move to the side but before I can, the masked man has turned around. And he's looking right at me.

I can just see his mask, and his eyes through it. He looks around ten years older than me. He has dark eyes, that give an angry kind of look.
"Get in the back seat. Now!" His shout goes right through me and it makes me jump. I climb back through to the back seat and push the seat back. I put my belt on and manage to cross my shaking arms. I sit there silently.
"I never thought I'd see you again, Faye Winters. You haven't changed a bit!" The man stares right at me, turns back around and starts the engine again.
I shudder yet again, and think of what to do. But what can I do? I'm in the car with someone who held my friend captive and who has escaped the police. I have no escape.
"I must say. You were hard to keep track of." The man drives at a slightly slower speed this time. I'm too scared to look out of the back window to see if the police car is behind, but I can't hear a siren. I assume they have lost sight of us.
Hard to keep track of? Was this man tracking me? Why? My mind carries on racing, and i'm too frightened to say anything.
"You don't know me, of course. You were just a baby when you saw me. Seeing you grow up, knowing your every move. Up until you came to this country, I was always one step ahead. I knew you'd look for her someday. I can't have that." His eyes are fixed onto the road, but it seems like he's almost staring into space.

So this man WAS tracking me. And he has 'seen' me grow up. How? And most importantly, why?

"Always in piggy-tails." He mutters
silently.
Wait, how did he know I used to always wear my hair in piggy-tails? I always used to have my hair like that for so many years, up until last year I stopped having my hair like that. I wanted to kind of be more adult, I guess.

"She can't see her. She can't come in between us. I won't let her have her if I can't." It seems like the man was muttering to himself now. He was truly insane. I wonder what's going through his mind, who he was and what he wants. But I wouldn't ask him. Not when he was talking to himself and getting more angrier by the minute. His voice is deep and there ks a creepy tinge to it, which makes my hairs stand on end.
"Thirty years old, and still treated the same.  I was in that place for ten years, because of you. Been out for two months, and I had no choice but to follow you here. If I can't have her, nobody can." He looks straight at me through the rear mirror and then back to the road.
Where had he been for ten years? And why was it my fault? I can't think straight, I feel so confused and clueless.
Twelve years older than me, I was nearly enough right for guessing he is at least ten years older.
"W...where was you?" I manage to ask. My voice trembling. It came out barely as a squeak.
The man laughs but I notice that his grip on the steering wheel tightens and he looks even more angry. At this moment I regret talking.
"So young, so clueless. I was in an asylum, you know, for mental people. All because of you! Your precious mother had me admitted when I tried to take you. She then gave you up because she knew when i was out i'd look for her for revenge." He carries on driving fast, and he clenches his teeth.
All this information wasn't sinking in. He was my...brother? So that's what my mum meant when she said she couldn't tell me her 'reasons' for giving me up. It's because I have a brother who tried to basically tried to take me away when I was little. So my mum was trying to protect me all this time and she didn't want to give me up.
"But then your care worker, Sharon is it? She kept me updated with photo's and I watched you grow up. You were the one our mum loved, not me. The only thing i ever wanted was to be loved. But then you went looking for her. It's your own fault. If I can't have her then neither of us can." He puts his foot on the gas and speeds off so fast I have to grip onto the window handle to stop myself moving sidewards.

"Where are we going?" I ask him nervously.
Just as I ask, he pulls up with a sharp hit to the break. I see a small house at the side of the road which is covered with trees.

Is this his home?