Satin

Six

|Unedited |

Aspen sat in the back of the car once again, Alfred driving through New York, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. For reasons that Aspen couldn't begin to fathom, he had opted for wearing thick-framed yellow sunglasses. It wouldn't be a problem except it was pouring with rain.

Once they had reached her apartment, it was evident that neither Todd nor Alfred had expected what greeted them. Alfred had grown pale and excused himself to the end of the hallway where he remained until Aspen was ready to leave. Todd called for back-up and focused entirely on not vomiting. The scene was much worse than it had been when Aspen left for school that morning. The blood had soaked the carpet for at least a foot in all directions and the claw marks almost radiated red.

Aspen had jumped over the bloody carpet and ran straight to her room. She pulled a suitcase from the back of her wardrobe and began packing her clothes. After whatever had happened in the elevator, Aspen was suddenly not too upset about the prospect of temporarily, or not-so-temporarily, living with Penny. When her suitcase was full, Aspen picked up her gym bag and emptied the contents out onto her bed. She then made her way to her vanity and filled the bag with make up. 

After unplugging her phone charger and grabbing a couple coats from her hatstand, Aspen was ready to leave her home indefinitely. By this point the forensics team had arrived and the carpet was covered with tarp. She smiled at a few of the people as she made her way to Alfred, struggling with her bags. He stood for a moment, still texting, before putting his phone away and taking Aspen's suitcase from her. Silently they made their way to the car.

Smiling sadly, Aspen brushed her hand over the white suitcase on the seat next to her. How quickly my life gets turned upside down, she thought bitterly. The rain punched at the roof of the car and the windscreen, falling so heavily and intensely that the same effect could have been created simply by standing on the roof and pouring buckets of water over the car. Aspen looked out of her window and tried very hard not to cry.

...

Half an hour later, Alfred pulled up to a large black gate. He rolled down the window and pressed the intercom button. 

'Yes?' A female voice greeted.

'It's Alfred for Penelope Whitton.'

'One moment, please?' The intercom buzzed and the gates opened. Alfred thanked the woman and slowly ascended the drive in front of them. On either side of the road were tall and thick conifers. Alfred's shoulders relaxed as he cruised through the gated community. Every so often they passed an armed member of security patrolling the streets. Aspen understood exactly why Penny wanted her to stay here. There was no way anyone would be able to come near her without being tasered or worse by one of the many protection details that lingered around every corner.

As they pulled in front of the rendered townhouse, Aspen felt something she hadn't felt in a while: safe. She pulled on her suitcase and quickly exited the car before Alfred could open the door for her. Together they walked up the porch steps.

'I should warn you,' said Alfred, one hand on his sunglasses, the other on the door handle 'Penny isn't happy. Good luck.' And with that, he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and opened the front door. Aspen followed behind, tentatively. 

The interior to Penny's townhouse was similar to Aspen's penthouse in that it was light and modern. On the right side of the building was a white and ebony spiral staircase leading to the one floor downstairs and three floors upstairs. Directly in front was the sitting room which looked like it had come directly from a home design magazine. In front of the french door wall was a glass coffee table that was surrounded by mismatched chairs. A fake potted plant sat in front of a colourful mural, and a sofa next to that. It had a very homely feel which Aspen found ironic since Penny was hardly there.