The Honeytrap
1138 Words
"This is good. You definitely have his attention. Now you just have to keep it." I had chased after her thinking the encounter may have shaken her resolve. She had loved him once; she could quickly love him again. If she did, I would be back where I started. But, instead, I was happy to see her face twist in disgust at the thought of his eyes on her, more content than I should have been.
After finding her curled up in a ball that day, I thought of finding another way. A way without collateral damage. I had been so angry I had thought about using her, mistaking her for a vapid attention-seeker. She was not what she had been, what I had expected. I felt so guilty I had visited her in hospital. That was my second mistake. Someday, I have to come to terms with my growing attraction to her. For now, she was simply an ally, a surprisingly good one. She was adaptable and a quick learner.
For months I had been blundering about with no real plan, and with a tiny bit of information, she had managed to the step toward justice that I had failed to. She was amazing. Ever since the day I saw her get off that bike, I couldn't get her off my mind. It was a refreshing change from the thoughts of revenge, but just as consuming.
"Sloane? Are you listening?" Embarrassed, I focus. I can't let my feelings distract me. "Sorry, I was thinking."
"I said do I really need new clothes?"
"Not many, just enough to keep his attention. He's shallow, so...um...you have to look diverse in comparison to the women around him."
"So less business, more casual? That I can do."
"The dress code at school leans toward formal, but" I felt flustered at the thought, "t-tighter jeans and stuff should be okay." Eventually, and despite my pumping heart, I managed to gather myself in the face of her bemused expression. "The most important thing is your attitude. I don't want you to take this the wrong way. Still, he only ever had a passing interest in you because you were...easy..." she froze, the tea that had gathered in her straw drained back into the cup as her eyes widened. "Not like that! Like...you were clearly interested in him. You were easy for him to attain." I was stammering, and my tongue felt thick and heavy. I looked everywhere but at Mara. "Sam is someone who has unfettered access to anything and everything he could want since he was young. He's fascinated by the things he can't have."
"You sure know a lot about him."
"I've been watching him. In all the years I've known him, he's only shown genuine interest in one person, a complete stranger. Actually, you were there that night too, not that you remember."
"So? What does she like? How should I act?"
"She was formidable, though drunk she wasn't taking Sam's s**t. We never spoke directly. I was watching from a distance. I turned my back for a few minutes, and they had gone. The way she carried herself sort of reminds me of you." She was silent and seemed to withdraw slightly. "Sorry, you must be sick of hearing how much you've changed." Still, no response. Time to change the subject, get back on track. " Anyway, you never did tell me your plan?"
"Well, we need evidence, right?" So I need access to that CCTV for a start. Win his trust, get into the club, find some evidence and take it to the police."
"You make it sound so easy. I told you the police will turn a blind eye."
"What if they weren't able to? Look, I don't have all the details ironed out yet. There has to be a way to undermine his influence and remove his power. At the end of the day, he's just a man." She said it so confidently as if my warning had been a dramatic flourish and not fact. So what if she was all bluster? She didn't seem to have a real plan, and I was right back where I started. She sighed and sat on a nearby bench. I struggled to hide my frustration when she pulled me down next to her. She was stronger than she looked.
She placed the empty cup beside her and flicked her hair behind her shoulder. Her sudden proximity surprised me, and she seized the opportunity to silence my objections before I had the chance to speak. "Think about it logically, his wealth, for example, where does it come from?" I had never considered this before. Was it relevant? His family had always been wealthy. That wouldn't change. "How would I know? His father owns..."
"Exactly! His father. Sam has no money of his own, not yet. I've noticed that all you, all of us, don't earn money ourselves. So where would Sam be if his father cut him off?" She spoke like she wasn't one of us and had a striking train of thought. Regardless, her idea may be unique, but it was a fantasy. "By all accounts, his father is an angry man. Even so, he's stood by him through every horror and scandal to date. Why would that change?"
"Leave that to me. The point is I can wheedle my way into his life, make him love me so much he's blind. As we slowly strip his armour, I'll become essential, his only support as his world falls apart around him."
"Make him dependant on you."
"See? I can protect him, but only if I know what's coming. All his secrets."
"You think you can make him love you? Trust you so much he will give you everything voluntarily?"
"Well, I'll need help. It won't be easy, and I'm socially awkward. There are a lot of holes that need filling, and some decisions will have to be made on the fly. But, we have help, more than you know." This was crazy, and I'm also crazy for thinking it could work. I had many questions, and my restless mind was on fire. I was almost giddy, but Mara had practically turned to stone beside me. She stared gravely before her, every inch of her tense and severe. It was intimidating, and for a moment, we sat in silence. I was simply in awe of her. She was angry, calculating, cold. How complex was this woman? How many sides of her were yet to be uncovered? I shifted slightly, and she jumped, suddenly pulled out of her stupor. Slowly, a smile returned to her face. Yet, I couldn't help but notice that her eyes were still dead. "So, that's the plan, Sloane. Ultimately, once he's vulnerable, we end him."
- Writer
