I've Just Seen A Face: Book 2: A Paul McCartney Love Story

Chapter 3: I Read the News Today

 The day had finally come for our appearance. Naturally, everyone thought we had run away and gotten married in secret, but that wasn't the case, and of course they couldn't know the truth. 

 The story was spun through news reels that we had gone off on holiday together to Africa to see something different. We wanted to be by ourselves, so what better place to go? We had stayed a bit longer than intended because Paul had caught some sort of foreign virus, and we didn't want to bring it back with us. He was still recovering, we told them, which explained his pale skin and the slight puffiness in his cheeks that were truly from the cosmetic surgeries.

   "When will you be getting married then?" the reporters demanded.

   "In a few weeks time. We'll let you know after the honeymoon." Faul winked in a true McCartney style.

   "Are you thinking of having children anytime soon?" 

 Faul opened his mouth to answer, but not before I chimed in.

   "No." I said a bit too forcefully. I tried to relax my body and smile. "We don't plan on it, but you never know." 

 I was quick to save the day, seeing Maxwell across the room blending in with the reporters. I didn't have time to fuck up.

   "Well, that's all for now!" Brian stepped in front of the cameras motioning for us to exit as the reporters pushed forward still questioning. "That's all, folks!"

 We were ushered in to the building behind us, and set into seats. The boys were told not to come, so it was just me and the imposter. Brian stood over in a corner of the large stone room biting his thumb nail anxiously. Maxwell came lastly through the door and strode up to stand in front of us. He leaned back on what appeared to be a table covered with thick red linen looking rather relaxed, but we knew at any moment he was capable of brandishing a good kick to the rib or punch to the face. 

   "That was good out there." he gestured towards the door. "Pretty believable I'd say. Except for your little slip up, Miss Davis. But I have a small punishment to make up for that, don't you worry." he smiled menacingly.

If you didn't know him you might think he was being kind.

 Maxwell motioned to his left for someone to come forward. Out from the darkened side of the room approached a tall man in a navy suit and red tie. He was holding someone by the arms and pushing them forward. I didn't know who it was because a bag had been placed over his head, but by looking at his body, I made a pretty good guess, and it made my stomach churn.

 The man came to stand beside Maxwell with the prisoner still restrained. 

   "Let's say hello to Johnny, shall we!?" said Maxwell as he ripped the bag from John's head.

 John took a deep breath from the lack of air and looked at the room around him. His eyes were bloodshot and wide with fright. I wanted so badly to reach out and hold him, but all I could do was stare in fear. Fear for myself. Fear for John. Fear for death, which I knew would be inevitable in the end for all of us involved.

   "This is what happens when you fuck up, little girl. Even a little." whispered Maxwell.

 I thought he would just hit him again like he always does. It's what we all expected.

   "Since I can't be leaving marks on your pretty faces for the paparazzi to see, I've come up with some new ways of....making you listen." he giggled.

 The large covered object in the room that I had thought to be a table turned out to be a clear glass tank when uncovered. And it was filled with water.

 Before I had time to react to what I was seeing Maxwell had already taken hold of John's wrists, pulled them behind his back, and shoved his head into the tank.

   "John! No!" I got up from my seat and strived to get to him as I was being held back from the man who once held John. My whole body had turned red from the rage I felt. 

 I could see John struggling for air as I sat on the floor pleading, praying to Paul that he would be all right. 

 I watched John go slack in the tank, and I just knew it was over. 

Faul whispered to me, "Don't do anything, Analeigh. He'll be okay. They won't kill him or this would all be for nothing." He had sneaked his way over to me in the comotion of my outburst to console me, but I wouldn't allow it.

 They pulled John out of the tank and let him lie on the floor, still unresponsive.

 Maxwell allowed me to crawl over to John. I held his head in my lap and stroked his wet hair, whispering for him to wake up. For me. For Paul.

 I could feel his breathing evening out and his pulse began to slow, but he still didn't wake. I felt numb by now, and was dragged to my feet by same man I didn't recognize. I was getting used to that by now. 

 I looked back at John as I was escorted out of the room. I knew Faul was right. They would make sure he lived.

 We were taken to  a van where we were sat in the back that was blocked off from the front and there were two guards on either side of us. 

  I hadn't cried when they were torturing John, but I knew the tears were soon to well up and spill over. And they did. As I sat beside Faul I started shaking uncontrollably with grief.

   "Analeigh. Please, don't cry. Please. It's going to all be all right." Faul whispered to me.

 He began to put his arm around me, but stopped himself because of the way I react towards him. 

 But this time I wanted him to hold me. I shoved my face into his chest and let out as many tears as I could. His arm went around my shoulder and I held him around the midsection, and he cried with me.

 Finally, when the tears had stopped I sat up and looked into his drooping eyes that were so like Paul's, though hazel. They were beautiful eyes, I let myself notice. But he wasn't Paul. 

I let my eyes fall back down to my hands, and gave a sigh. Still, I laid my head on his shoulder and fell fast asleep.