Pink Walls

Day Two [Part I]

"Unfortunately, I do."

The first thing I did when I managed to get my eyes open was drag myself to my feet and stumble to the digital clock on the door of the fridge. I didn't care how uneven the floor felt or how fast the world was spinning around me, I needed to get moving.

12:02. I watched the blinking numbers for a whole minute until my mind made sense of them—two minutes after midnight.

Daniel's knockout drug was a powerful one but I had built up resistance to its kind over the years. Fortunately, he wasn't the first 'client' I had who had drugged me so I was more than ready for the disorientation I was currently experiencing.

The fact that I had been unconscious for almost fourteen hours was more likely due to me being exhausted than anything else.

But without doing a thing, I had made it to Monday.

Damn kid really is a cub. Cunning as hell.

I leaned over the sink and spat out the cookie crumbs that were still on my tongue then rinsed my mouth and face under the running tap, ignoring the smudge of red on the floor of the kitchen and the painful throbbing beneath my skull.

"Just two more days." I chuckled dryly and pulled the fridge open to get a jug of milk and a pack of frozen peas.

Oddly enough, I felt refreshed, no longer at my limit and struggling to move my body in time with my mind. Everything looked and felt sharper despite my growing headache.

With the contents of half the jug sloshing in my queasy stomach and the peas pressed against the wound on my head, I reached into the bin and pulled out the file.

Dusting the wet dough off the manila, I tossed it to the counter and got a cleaver from the knife block.

Reaching down, I pulled Frank's knife from my boot and dropped both beside the file before turning to search the drawers for a lighter and the cupboards for alcohol.

If I was lucky, Daniel was still alive and all I had to do was find him. If I wasn't lucky, I would have a lot of explaining to do.

I could just imagine Ron's expression when news reached her that I lost the kid.

"You should have read the file, Kay," she would say, tapping her two-inch nail extensions against each other while thinking of a way to clean up my mess. "I told you so."

I shook the image out of my head. The last thing I needed to think about were consequences and repercussions. I just needed to survive until Wednesday and everything would set itself aright.

In the cupboards above the sink, I found the mother lode of incendiary mayhem behind three layers of cereal: Everclear.

I grabbed as many bottles as I could without getting dizzy and set them on the counter. I was more than sure that I had a concussion from the fall so I had no time to wonder why there was so much high proof alcohol in a house that had been acquired for someone underage.

I gathered all the kitchen towels and cut them with my knife before dipping them in a pot of cooking oil and leaving them to drip dry.

I glanced at the fridge—12:15—then sucked in a deep breath and made my way up the stairs as quickly and quietly as I could manage.

On the bed in Daniel's room, I saw the coat Alex had given me and in the pockets, I found the car keys, gloves, cable ties and the set of throwing knives Ron had 'gifted' me.

I wore the gloves and stuffed the cable ties into my jeans pocket but left the coat behind, making my way into the bathroom to collect the first aid kit I had looked for after I had taken a shower earlier.