Out From the Shadows

Chapter 23

I enter the Lakers' estate through the door in the backyard. The woods provided good cover for my journey here, so being out in the open leaves me wary and anxious.

Voices carry from behind the door where I press my ear and I have just enough time to move before the door swings open. My body is pressed against the stones with the door squishing me. Two girls, one I recognize from the kitchen, carry slices of bread in their gloved hands, their body wrapped and covered in cold weather attire. They stroll through the garden and disappear down the path, probably to feed the creatures.

I slip in before the entrance closes and it becomes suspicious for the door to groan open again. Quickly and as silently as I can, I run up the stairs that lead to the storage room and climb up the grand stairway once the entryway is free. More voices are heard behind the doors to Mr. Lakers' office. I take time to even my breathing and organize my thoughts, then I fling the doors open dramatically.

Mr. and Mrs. Lakers whip their heads to me and I already know that they were fighting. Possibly about me. Confirmation comes with Mrs. Lakers next comment.

"See! I told you should would come back!"

Old man Lakers gets up from behind his desk and struts over to me. I stand tall and unavoidable, a hurdle in his path that he must face. Confidence sends a tingling in my body.

"I'm here to negotiate with the queen."

Mr. Lakers chuckles hardily as if I made a joke.

"You have come to the wrong place Almarie," he sneers my name. I instantly feel angry. My father would sometimes use that tone when I did something he considered "stupid".

"I think I came to the perfect place. Now send a letter to Camille and get her over here," I demand. Hopefully they understood my meaningful use of her first name as a message. I'm not ever going to let someone boss me around again. Not after my father, my kidnapper, and ecspecially not after Mr. Lakers and Camille.

"We will do no such thing. You will be coming with us to the palace to receive the justice you deserve," Josephine pipes in with a hip cocked. I have the itching feeling to let fists fly and feel the crunch of her face under them. My body tenses with the effort to remain mentally calm.

"Oh Josephine, how much I missed you. While we are on the topic of justice, tell me, how long have you been in love with the old man over here? Maybe before Caroline was gone?" I flick a hand to Mr. Lakers rudely while sounding innocent and honestly curious.

Mr. Lakers' face scrunches up in distaste while Josephine looks a bit paler. I smirk, knowing that she know what I'm hinting towards.

"Alright, we can pass that question and get to the meaty parts. How about why you had me kidnapped?"

"You don't know anything brat," Josephine hisses and spits at me. Mr. Lakers looks over at his wife, surprised at her outburst. I'm getting under her skin. Good.

"Fine, but you can't avoid this: why did you kill Caroline? Was it to take her husband?"

Finally, the tension snaps like a rubber band and Josephine lunges at me unexpectedly. I go down, hard, with her landing on top of me. The breathe rushes from my lungs and I freeze in discomfort. Josephine, having the easier landing, straddles me and brings her hands to my neck to squeeze the life out of me. Her thumbs dig into my throats and the lost air refuses to enter my lungs again. I struggle and buck against her, but it's no use. Gagging for breathe, my body settles down and my vision blurs. Escaping death three times is where my luck runs out I guess.

I didn't realize that I was able to breathe again, hands gone from my neck, when Josephine's weight is suddenly absent and my lungs expand. My body shakes and my chest lifts and deflates heavily for a minute. After, my vision is back to normal and I spot a mass out of the corner of my right eye. Josephine lays oddly on the floor with blood welling and seeping down the side of her head from a gash in her hair.

Mr. Lakers stands over me with his briefcase in hand, risen over his shoulder and prepared to swing again. I connect the dots as to what just happened. He pants and looks seriously confused and scared, feelings I don't think he feels very often.

"She...killed her, didn't she?" He asks me as he lowers the case to the ground and let's it drop with a thud. I give a sad nod and he swiftly turns around and starts to pace.

Meanwhile, I lift my aching body from the wood panels and stand.

"Mr. Lakers, I'm sorry about your wife... your first one. I witnessed her kidnapping and ended up with her," I pause and so does his pacing. He gives me this look of grief that I start to feel bad for him.

"She talked about you and Ashton a lot and she promised me that you would save us," I stop as my heart constrict emotionally. Reliving the memory will most likely always hurt. "You saved us both in ways that neither you or Ashton understand. She loved her life, her husband, and her son. There was nothing more precious than the time she spent with you two. And for me, Ashton is my everything now. I know you don't like me, especially now, and I am fine with that, it's mutual, but I need to talk to Camille before anyone I love gets hurt," I spill from deep down, somewhere that I thought would never be opened up. His silence feels as if he can't decide.

"Please," my eyes water and I lift my head up to keep the tears from falling. " Caroline helped me, now let me return the favor."

I face toward Mr. Lakers and he stands rigidly in front of me a few feet away. His blank face makes me think he is considering my words.

Slowly, he rises from his stupor and really looks at me.

"I hope you can forgive me, for everything. Losing the woman I love turned me cold and I see how it affected everyone now. Ashton has been pulling away for years and I never cared until you came. I pushed for him to marry someone whom I could control, someone obedient, but I received you. You... you remind me so much of Caroline," he drifts off into sorrowful silence.

"So will you help me?"

He nods his head and heads over to his desk. The chair sinks with his weight and a drawer groans as he opens it.

A minute later, Mr. Lakers has a pen and paper and begins to scrawl his message.