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Chapter Six

"Sit!" He pointed to a sofa in the living room and headed to the refrigerator adjacent to me.

I stood, not willing to make a move yet...

"What can I offer you?" He asked me after he had secured a bottle of alcoholic drink for himself.

"I don't have the appetite for anything, you know it's morning." My voice was dry, my tone unencouraging. "I don't eat so early."

"You can't come to my place without having anything to eat, it shows that I lack manners." He seemed persistent, and I was not going to get into an argument with him.

"I'll take orange juice." I finally said, after taking my time to think. I was certain of one thing, though. I wasn't going to taste that drink. He could have drugged it, he could have poisoned it, he could have done absolutely anything with it.

"Alright, Cammie." His tone was just like my father's. The only difference was the variety in pitch. He reached out for the jar of orange juice and poured some into a glass container.

I hissed! I didn't want anything reminding me about that monster.

After I had ensured that he was too engrossed in pouring the drink to look up, I stretched my hand and it got to the door. I attempted to twist the handle, but it wouldn't bulge. I stopped trying when he looked up from pouring the drink.

I tried to act normal. It was obvious that the door was locked, I sighed in desperation. I just wanted to check if it was unlocked, so that I'd know my next move. It wasn't like I would have run out of his house, and into the streets. Without a plan, if it weren't locked.

"Come have it." He was sitting on a stool in the bar that was near the kitchen, which was separated from the living room with a little counter. I had a good view of the bar from where I stood, but I was unable to see when he had poured the drink. Which was more reason why I wouldn't take it. Slowly, I traced my way to the bar and stood at a distance from him.

"I don't think you should be taking orange juice right now. What you need is Hot. Lots of it! Something like alcohol. You know, that would make you better when it's playtime." I smiled. I had mastered the act of resisting the urge to kill people like him. But thoughts of it still clouded my head.

If I could live with my father for this many years, I could spend a few minutes in his house too, without having to murder him.

I wasn't sure I would be able to kill him if I tried... So instead, I smiled at him.

But one thing was sure, he wasn't going to touch me.

"Aren't you going to drink your juice?" He finally asked, when ten minutes passed, but I was yet to take a sip from the drink in front of me.

"I will," I giggled lightly. " I just need some time to get into the mood. Besides, you know it's early. I am yet to have breakfast, and I'm not used to drinking so early in the morning. Especially because I'm yet to have breakfast"

"Your father took care of you if that's the case." He said that with an ugly wink. "You wouldn't believe this, but I didn't read about you both on the internet." He roared in laughter after he said that, and watched to observe if I was laughing along. I smiled again.

"How did you find out?" I couldn't believe how foolish I was, to have digested the information from a total stranger, in a town as crazy as this. I should have cross-checked what he told me before racing with him out of the only place that seemed a bit sane, the hotel. His eyes were beginning to close, but he kept forcing them open. He appeared drunk. It was then that I noticed that he had taken three bottles of highly alcoholic drinks.

"Do you want me to pour you more?" I offered when he was taking too long to answer me.

"Yes... Yes, please."

I went to his refrigerator and brought out a big bottle of the most famous alcohol I knew of. I heard no one could stand a bottle of it.

"Okay, enjoy." I handed it over to him, a reassuring smile plastered on my face.

He gulped down the entire glass at once and handed me the empty vessel. "Pour me another glass, please."

"Sure." I did as he requested, sat calmly, and watched as he swallowed it down too. "Now tell me. How did you find out about my father and me?"

He laughed hard. "Your father... He is my friend. He tells me about you, he tells me how he has you whenever he wants. He told me about your birthday too. And how you walked out on him. He knows you are in this town, he knows the hotel you are at, he knows how to get you when he wants." A hiccup interrupted him and when he asked me for water, I offered him some more drink instead.

I couldn't be more grateful that he had gotten drunk because there would have been no other way for me to get all the relevant information I needed.

I heard a knock on the main door, Peter Mack had locked the door from inside. Whoever it was would be unable to get in, unless I unlock the door.

The knock seemed to have woken him from the sleep he was drifting into, but that was for a few seconds.

"Get the door, hunny. We'll play when I wake up. I promise." He lay on the bar table and used his hands as his pillow.

The knock came again. I took a deep breath and glanced around the living room, and then I held my breath. There were lots of photo enlargements in his house, and they each had pictures of different women, most of whom were half-naked. Only one of them was clothed properly, and Peter Mack was standing next to her in the picture. Next, my eyes rested on the flat-screen television, and the two paintings at the far end of the room.

One of them was the painting of a gun, and the other was the painting of dollars. The living room was tastefully furnished, I was noticing that for the first time. The purple sofas looked expensive, and the floor was wooden, but a purple rug was in the center of the living room. I saw a big stereo speaker next to the television, and a lot of discs piled beside it. It seemed whoever lives here with Peter must be a lover of music. The knock came again, louder this time. Interrupting my scan of the house. I saw one last thing before I unlocked the door. "Sherlock Head Mafia Gangsters."

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