THE VICKERS

Chapter 10

We parked a few blocks away from Fitz' house. The car Tino gave us was a crisp black Audi that fit in well with the lifestyle of the residents of the neighbourhood. Its windows were tinted to match the colour of its exterior. The inside had an unfamiliar freshness, and there wasn't a spec of dirt anywhere. We were about to smear that with our funk.

No one would think a car like this parked out in front of a two-story mansion as suspicious. And, if we did everything perfectly, there'd be no shots fired, therefore no police would be called.

The sun had already given way to the rising semi-full moon, and the chill of the night settled around us.

I took out the laptop again and started to skip through the cameras, to find out exactly where the office was and a possible escape route if things went awry. But there was none.

Devin would have to get out the same way he got in. But what if he couldn't? What would I do?

"Devin?" I spoke just above a whisper.

"Yea?" he turned to face me. His eyes had been glued to the street before us, watching every pedestrian and passing car.

"What if this is all just a trick? What if Dahlia is in there? And they did this to get to you? Or to us?"

"I don't know who is behind this or why. But I know one thing's for sure, they'd have to kill me before they get either one of us."

Shivers ran down my spine as he spoke? What if he dies?

I didn't understand why we were being drawn into a sword match between Gills and Fitz. If Gills was behind all of this. I still wasn't sold but if it was him, and we failed, we'd all end up dead.

Devin was confident that somehow this would get us one step closer to finding out who took our sister, and why.

~~~~
*Dahlia*

Dahlia was left alone all day. There was no one watching her, at least that she heard for that matter. She'd been blindfolded all day so she wasn't sure. During the night, she'd heard crickets singing cheerful songs. But she'd never heard them back at the house. Her only conclusion was that she wasn't in the city anymore.

Not even the now-familiar tobacco scent was there anymore. He'd left from the night before. The door never opened to bring her food or water.

Her throat was scratchy and her mouth was pasty. It was almost November time so the days were generally cooler than in the summer.

She sat there unmoving for an eternity. She listened keenly for any movement, or sound of cars, trains, aeroplanes; something, anything to give her a clue as to where she could be. But the silence was deafening.

As the sunset, the temperature dropped exponentially and an evening breeze from the lone window sent shivers down her neck to her arms.

More time had passed, Dahlia still didn't shift in the slightest until the door creaked.

She heard heels clicking on the concrete floor and she knew it was the bitch from the previous night.

The sound of clicking heels travelled from before her to stop on her left. Dahlia whipped her head to the side, expecting a slap but none came. The woman only spoke.

"Twenty four hours almost up and your brother still hasn't delivered the money," she said. Hatred dripped from every word.

"He must be dead by now," she added.

"Fuck off you bitch!" Dahlia spat.

The woman slapped her this time, and her jaw stung. Then the woman grabbed her hair pulling her head back.