in tua voce

Fight and Flight?

In all my chivalrous good-doing, it never occurred to me, not even once, that Annabeth was trying to escape. Looking back, what the fuck? I mean, really. DUH. Of course she's trying to get out of here - she has a life and a family and she didn't come here from above just so I could spy on her. Jesus.

In all my stupidity and naïveté, I left the door to the "guesthouse" unlocked. Yes. I left. The fucking. Door. Unlocked. When I returned, still oblivious to the state of the lock, I found the door closed. I knocked and said hopefully, "I made ramen." No answer.

"Annabeth? I questioned tentatively. No answer.

I reached out and pushed the door open, only to find it empty. "Annabeth?" I called again. I strode to the bathroom and knocked, then pushed the door open. I promptly dropped the hot noodles all over my feet when I realized she was gone. "Shit!" I cursed, partly in exasperation that there were now noodles all over me and the floor, but mostly because she had freaking escaped and this was going to come back and haunt me forever.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't upset that she had escaped because of my evil plots to keep her hidden forever, no, I was upset because my father was no doubt going to find out about this and somehow link it back to me. I had no chance. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

I left the cabin in a hurry and started walking around the perimeter of the trailer park. The only thing I could think about was my certain untimely demise, until I stumbled upon the curl in the barbed wire fence that Annabeth had first entered this shithole through. And then I realized, What if she made it? I stopped short in shock. I had been so busy contemplating my fate that I hadn't even thought she might have actually escaped. I just assumed she had tried to escape and they had caught her in the act...I was still doomed. They would find out she was gone eventually, and then they would go track her down because she was still a liability and then they'd find out I had in on this and then we'd both be dead.

The least I could do would be to clean up the damn ramen noodles that I had spilled everywhere. If that wasn't damning evidence then please enlighten me as to what is. I stumbled back to the "guesthouse", my thoughts torn between my usual self-preservation and thoughts of Annabeth.

I arrived at the cabin door and realized too late that I had just walked into my own grave.

"Jackson!" a male voice called from inside the tiny shack. I stopped and made to run, but a hand closed on my arm like a vice. I turned and looked up into the face of Jamar, my father's personal thug/bodyguard/hitman/dirtywork-guy. I gulped as I took in all six and a half feet of his muscled masculinity.

We remained silent as he led me to the main-trailer house, aka headquarters. I was too scared to even wrench my arm from his grip and inform him I could walk alone, thank you. I just kept my head down and contemplated the horrors lying in store for me.

When we finally descended into the depths of hell (not literally, although the flight of stairs to the basement is ridiculously long), I found a small group of men gathered, one with a blooming black eye, another sporting a bloodied nose. Then I found my father. Shit. "Sir," Jamar's voice sounded out behind me, announcing our presence.

My father turned, and when he saw me his eyes narrowed to slits. He showed no other emotion, but I could feel the hatred radiating off of him and onto me. "Thank you, Jamar. That will be all," he said in a low voice. Jamar let go of me and I refrained from rubbing my arm where he had held me in a death grip for so long. I heard his retreating footsteps and couldn't decide if I was relieved or terrified he was gone. As my father approached, I went with terrified - at least I could have hid behind Jamar's gigantic barrel chest or something.