The idea of packing as much as I can fit into a couple suit cases and never actually returning crossed my mind quite a few times. They said they work for Travis, I could do the same. If I could stay undercover in Atlanta for just a couple more months, on my eighteen birthday I could get my own place, really start fresh.
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Okay, maybe it's done a little more than crossed my mind. But I think it's a reasonable fantasy.
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Instead, I packed light; just enough for a two night stay. I threw in a tube of mascara, lip gloss and some toiletries. It left plenty of room for a few bottles of vodka and my pouch.
"Look at us." Malachi says after a long ten minutes of silence. That was until we got on the interstate. He jangles his body towards us from the passenger's seat, a cheeky smile plastered on his face. "On our first little family vacation." He gives Maverick a nudge, who shrugs his hand away immediately. "Although the festivities won't be as such, it still feels a bit heart warming, don't you think?"
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I roll my eyes from the backseat, lazily looking out the window and trying my best to ignore the beginning of this long drive filled with their banter.
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"Hearing you say the world heart warming is comical." Maverick mumbles as he flicks his blinker on to merge lanes.
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"You agree, right, Lilliana? This is nice?"
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I can feel him watching me for a reaction.
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"Oh sorry." Out of the corner of my eye, Malachi puts his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm interrupting her focus..." tone laced with amusement, he adds, "Which is directed towards making sure she's having the worst possible time."
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I stop biting my tongue, in a sudden outburst, whipping my head around to look at Malachi. "I'm not trying to have a bad time, I'm just not trying to listen to your all's bullshit for however long we're in here for!"
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Malachi looks over at Maverick with an amused expression before back at me. "You've got a long eight hours ahead of you."
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I shoot him a glare, just then remembering how far Atlanta is from where we live. I groan inwardly, knowing a long nap is the near future.
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"Leave her be." Maverick grumbles, sounding more obligatory than caring. He presses play on the touch screen radio before turning up the volume.
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The music is soothing as a comfortable silence passes over the car. The low, deep bass of the music vibrates my back.
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It didn't take long before my mind starts to wonder.
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I wonder what people like them think about. There's no way they can't have zero thoughts while so lifeless looking as they sag into their seats. Do they think of normal things? Or are they always consumed with ideas of their next terrifying move?
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It makes me consider how two people, dangerous and powerful men, can be so internally miserable. Wouldn't their egos mask any downward thought they'd have about themselves? Maybe not...but I'm curious as to how their minds work.
Hell, I'm curious as to how mine works.
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Malachi's head bobs up and down to the music as he slides his black sunglasses on. He flips the visor down, letting a blunt roll down into his palm. He exaggeratedly flicks it back up, inspecting each end before putting one between his lips. Without missing a beat, his head continues to move as he raises the lighter. From the rearview mirror, I see Maverick grinning as he watches the road, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.
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The sight of Malachi makes me suppress a laugh.
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It's only then that the minutest amount of jealousy touches me. Usually, I envy others lifestyles through novels, living vicariously through fictional character's stories and tales. It's not my usual to be jealous over someone enjoying simple things, like a car ride that could send someone like me into a dark, mental downward spiral.
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Seeing them like this gives me a little hope that what they say will work; that eventually my life will progress instead of regress. I try to keep my thoughts on that instead of my bitterness.
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So I open up a book I started reading days ago, before chaos erupted, tuning out the world around me and diving into a state of day dreaming. It makes me forget that time even exists, that the world is continuing to spin as I stay still.
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Maybe the men should try picking up a book rather than a knife or a gun when they feel certain urges...
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Maverick stops at a gas station a few hours into the trip, getting three of us drinks to chase the drugs with. He got me nerds gummy clusters, one of my favorite candies. He tore open the bag and gave himself a handful, then Malachi did the same before passing it back to me. I bitched at them for taking about half of them.
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"There's plenty enough left, Lilliana." Malachi says lazily, tuning his head to the side but not looking at me. "You're about ninety pounds; I'm sure you'll take a break after five of them."
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I scoff but still dip my hand into the bag. "Ninety four." I correct him.
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Malachi pauses in the front seat, staring straight ahead for a moment before turning himself fully to look at me. "What?" He asks, face twisted.
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"You were off." I tell him, shrugging as I put a piece of candy on my mouth. "I'm ninety four pounds."
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Malachi's head immediately shifts to direction his gaze at Maverick. "You know about this?" He asks, not waiting for an answer as he carries on with; "And you got her gummy clusters?" He stops. "You know what?" He holds up his hands as he moves to sit facing forward. "It's none of my business."
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"It's not like she's not going to eat." Maverick says, looking between the road and Malachi. "It's just a snack until we get to the house."
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"Like I said; none of my business." Malachi replies as he shakes his head.
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"You're right." Maverick ends the conversation.
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It leaves a lingering sense of animosity in the car, a tension between them. The laid back demeanors they wore just minutes ago have turned into stiff ones. It feels like both of them have things they want to argue but are choosing not to.
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Is this seriously happening because of candy?
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__________________________________
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Malachi and Maverick spoke described our destination as a house...they didn't mention that it's a mansion.
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Four stories and three different wings; it seems impossible to think that someone actually lives in a place as big as this. From the insanely large swimming pool and pool house, the golf course, to the grand staircase just leading to the door...this is something you only think you'll ever see in movies.
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For some reason, when I imagined Travis's house, I pictured a place that's run down, worth nothing and full of dirty money; a trap house.
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Never in my wildest dreams did I think Maverick knew anyone with this kind of money. He and Malachi had described this as somewhat of a career of theirs. I guess I didn't believe it much then.
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Staring up at this house really puts into perspective just how deep Maverick is in this.
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"We could all have this someday." Malachi announces as they allow me to stand and take in the acres and acres of land.
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I find myself asking, voice in awe; "How many people would you have to kill to have this?"
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Maverick and Malachi share a chuckle.
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"Many." They answer in unison.
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A woman, more than likely in her forties but aging like she's in her thirties, answers the door. She's in a uniform, like the couple others I see pass by behind her. They wear black, straight legged jeans, a black button down that's long sleeved, tucked in and collared. The clothes are paired with black shoes, gold belts, and a gold name tag on the right side of their chests.
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The grand entrance and the double stare case is what has my attention. The paintings on the walls are far bigger than me. The chandelier hanging overhead takes up most of the ceiling. The floors are so shiny, it looks almost like glass.
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"It's been long enough." The woman smiles brightly up at Malachi and Maverick. "Travis shouldn't schedule your visits so far apart."
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"It's good to see you too, Malory." Maverick says back to her in a genuine tone. It kind of catches me off guard, not knowing his relationship with the staff here was so personal, so much so that I can tell he actually meant it when he said it was good to see her.
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"This must be Lilliana."
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I finally meet her eye, standing a step behind but in between the men. I give a half hearted smile, still feeling standoffish despite her kind attitude.
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"It's lovely to meet you." She tells me before opening the door further and backing up with it. "Come in, come in. Travis would have a fit if he knew I was keeping you in the cold."
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Stepping inside feels like a crime. I usually laugh when people take their shoes off at the door, not allowed to wear them any further. Right now I feel like a peasant, my being not perfect enough to enter such a pristine home.
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From the large number of different staff passing through the foyer, it's unlikely that Travis has ever even had a speck anywhere. I can just imagine how fast they react to a spill or scoff. I wonder if their refrigerator has any fingerprints on it at all.
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Malory retrieves a walkie talkie from her pocket, holding it close to her mouth as she speaks into it. "Jefferey. They're here. Come get their luggage please."
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"We've heard so much about you, Lilliana." Malory's eyes sparkle as she talks to me. "Make yourself completely at home." She waves her arms out to either side of her, gesturing to the house. "And don't hesitate to ask me for anything at all." She points a stern but caring finger.
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"Thank you." I tell her shyly, wanting to crawl into a corner and hide.
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When the tone shifts in the room, as well as gazes, I look in the direction the three of them are.
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A girl walks down the stairs, appearing to be closer to Maverick and I's age. Her curled, bouncy brown hair cascades down her back, framing her face beautifully. Her eyes are a deep blue, makeup immaculate, as if she gets it done professionally. The girl walks with grace, elegantly down each step with a smile on her lips that reaches her eyes.
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What I really notice is the change in Maverick's behavior.
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He tenses up upon seeing her, making sure to downcast his head almost immediately. His hands find his pockets, weight transferring from one foot to the other.
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"Surprise." The girl announces as her foot hits the last step before fully entering the foyer with us. Her smile is mischievous, as if sharing some dark thought with herself.
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Malachi, who stands a few steps away from Maverick, crosses his arms over his chest and smiles a teethed smile; something he never does. He doesn't respond with anything, he just watches the scene happily, clearly sharing whatever thought the girl is.
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I'm definitely missing something here.
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"Well I thought they'd have a slightly different reaction..." Malory comments to herself.
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"As did I." The girl laughs, stopping to stand in front of all of us. "When Travis told me you two would be staying the weekend, I was shocked that neither of you told me." Her painted red, acrylic nails run through her hair, sweeping it out of her face. "I spent time thinking about why you chose this to be the first visit we haven't spent together."
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Her eyes then land on me, an unreadable expression on her face. "I think I've found my answer."
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Malachi, still beaming, nudges Maverick enough to get his attention. "Go on. Aren't you going to introduce them?"
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Silence.
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I stare between all four of them.
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Maverick grumbles something under his breath, inaudible to us. He doesn't raise his head as he waves an arm between the girl and I.
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"Lilliana..."
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For some reason I'm holding my breath.
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"...This is Brittany..."
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"...Brittany..." His hand motions to me. "Lilliana..."
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