The End Of It All
2327 Words
Alaina’s POV
I was glad I took Roman’s car. Outside was not safe at all. The Lancasters had really created a scene. I had seen my face on billboards, tagged as the ‘unfaithful wife.’ The world should be against Luke, but they were against me. I could just be driving in this car all day because I didn't know what awaited me once I stepped out.
I typed into Roman’s tab, which was on the car's dashboard. There was surprisingly good internet connection as I stopped the car on the side of a less busy road. I scrolled to the search engine, wanting to know what sort of trouble I had gotten myself into. I typed in my name, and the first thing I saw was a line which read, ‘Wanted for evidence tampering and attempted murder of Luk…’
I wasn't surprised, but I was still shocked. I knew them like the back of my palm. They wouldn't back down until I went to jail or worse. No one to call. I was too scared and prideful to go back to my own family, so I just stayed by the side, leaning back into the seat. The screen was dark, and I was sure no one would come for me. I couldn't be here forever, but I needed strength from being alone to fight whatever was coming my way.
My emotions were spiraling. It felt like I was going insane. I wasn't even given a break after a divorce before I was thrown into more calamities.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes dry of tears as I stayed there for what felt like an hour, denying myself of any thoughts. My hand found the radio, keeping it on a music channel as I stared back into the space, watching a few cars pass.
Few minutes later, A knock on the window pulled me out of my trance. I grabbed any item of disguise immediately, the towel on the dashboard, placing it on my head, and Roman's dark shades. Sighing, I opened the window a bit.
A man’s face popped up before mine. “Good day, ma’am.”
He held out a police ID, and I smiled, trying not to show the terror I felt inside.
Could he recognize me?
I fought with the last person that could help me, and I don't think I would be accepting any help from him even if I ended up in jail.
“We got a report that this car was stolen and you are clearly in it, you are under arrest for driving a stolen car,” he said.
This was Roman's way of taking his anger out on me.
“I… it’s not a stolen car, I—”
“Would you please come out of that car, Ms. Dawson?”
He knows me.
Anger seethed through me. “I am not. If this is the Lancasters’ way to bring me down, then I am not going through this way, officer.” Why do I feel this wasn't about the car that I stole? My hand grew tight on the steering wheel.
“Please cooperate with us, Ms. Dawson, and step out of the car.” I shook my head as another officer in uniform stepped forward, his face calmer than the other. I had a bad feeling about this. It wasn't just a normal arrest now.
“I did nothing wrong…” my voice gave out as it turned shaky and low, a lump forming in my throat. “They framed me…”
“You stole a car, ma’am.”
I continued ignoring what they had to say. “Whatever you saw on the media, the billboards, your TV screen is a lie. I am being framed. The car is from someone I know, and he would not attest to me stealing it.”
Or would he?
The Lancasters were his family. What was I expecting? For him to continuing supporting a stray like me after I'd turned him down?
The officer was ready to hit me with the “Anything you say…” Even if I tried to drive away, that would be the worst thing. The tire could be shot, and I would still get arrested.
“I’d be getting arrested for a stolen car and resisting arrest.” A bitter smile spread across my lips as I opened the car door, stepping out and extending my hands forward as he signaled to his partner, who put cuffs on me.
They escorted me down to a black truck instead of the usual police van. My steps slowed. Every vein in my body screamed at how wrong all this felt, but physically and mentally, I was exhausted.
I felt a slight push on my shoulder as the wind slapped my hair against my face.
“Get in.”
I climbed into the back seat, the car door slamming shut. Both officers were meant to sit in front at least, but one was at the back with me.
How could I even escape when I had these cuffs biting into my skin?
The car engine roared to life. The drive went on forever. My hands grew clammy, and I became uncomfortable every minute. It started with me asking them to open the window, which both officers argued without doing it.
“Where are you taking me to?” I finally summoned the courage to ask.The ride to a police station shouldn't be this long. They both didn't answer.
“Answer me, where are you f*****g taking me?!”
I felt agitated with no reply. I should feel a bit safe that I was in the hands of the police, but it was otherwise.
My pulse spiked as I yelled again, pounding my cuffed hands against the window, shifting to the far end of the seat.
“Stop the car!”
“Calm down, Ms. Dawson,” the mam beside me said as my breath grew shallow.
“No! I won't until you let me out.” I kicked him repeatedly. This was no arrest. I should have known when it all felt wrong. “Let me out…”
I thrashed harder, my hands hurting from the constant attempt on the window.
“Shut her up, Max,” the one at the driver’s seat ordered, his voice low.
I frowned in confusion until he caught my legs, stopping my attempts, a handkerchief in his hand.
“You wouldn’t calm down, so we have to do this, Ms. Dawson.” My struggles and words were trapped in a muffled scream as I panicked under his grip. His knees pressed into my thighs to keep me in place. The handkerchief pressed tightly against my nose, a strange smell flooding into my system as dizziness began to hit me.
I tried… I really tried to fight it. My thrashing slowed, the fight draining from me as my eyes began to dim, and I registered my body failing me, giving in before everything went pitch black.
---
“You are not allowed to do that, Mirabel just wants her dead, not taking advantage of her. What if it gets out and they can’t handle it? We would get into trouble….” My head felt like a car had run over it, throbbing with a ringing sound in my ear as I tried to get my eyes open. What happened? Like someone would answer my inner thoughts as I heard masculine voices, more like an argument in whatever place I was.
A painful groan escaped my lips, something tight biting into my wrist. The temperature of the room was so hot that I thought I really was dead and maybe in some place like hell. “She’s waking up, sedate her more or something until Mirabel gets here.”
“Fine, this could harm her.”
“She’s going to be dead anyways.” My lips parted, but my eyes wouldn’t—it felt like I was paralyzed. I hissed, feeling a sharp prick on my neck. “Pl…please.” And I slid into that dark abyss once again.
I winced, feeling a weird stinging sensation on my cheek. “Is she dead?” A familiar feminine voice, and I felt that sting again. “Wake up!” someone yelled into my face. My eyes finally fluttered open. It came as a blurry vision first, only the blonde hair of a woman stood out, and when it became clear, Mirabel Lancaster was standing in front of me, the sharp bright white light in the room giving her this edgy appearance. She dusted her hand like she had just touched filth, removing the black gloves she had worn. “Finally, she’s awake.”
I fought hard with my throat, which felt parched like a desert, to let words out. “What do you want from me?!” Maybe I should have followed my conscience earlier, my mind mocked me seeing the officers who had taken me stood right behind her. “I want you gone,” she spat.
“Then let me go, Mirabel, let me go!” I tugged my hands, but it only hurt. When I stared down at myself, my hands were tied to the back with ropes, my legs too, making it hard for movement.
“Do you know the trouble you have gotten Lancasters in? You turned my sons against each other… what did you do to Roman to make him support you?” she yanked my hair backwards. “I did nothing!” I cried out in gritted teeth.
“You lied against Luke after everything he had done for you.” I wanted to peel her mouth off her face for saying that. They’d never believe that Luke had done that to me, and I was beyond caring. “Let me go, Mirabel, and stop with your false accusations.” She pulled on my hair harder and I winced. “Luke is—” pain shot through my cheeks as her hand came across it, her ring finger making contact with my lips.
“Don't call my son's name in that filthy mouth of yours.”
“Mrs. Lancaster, she's not meant to have any physical mark on her body that would lead back to us,” one of my kidnappers said from behind her. Mirabel straightened.
“You are going to kill me?” I asked, trying not to show the trembling in my voice.
“Oh baby, as your ex mother-in-law, we are not going to do that. I would do you the honor, you'd do that yourself, then we could blame it on your mental health issues that Luke had been trying to curb, and it led you to doing that to yourself. Then my son's face can be saved again.” she sighed "I am telling you too much already.
I couldn't stop the laughter that escaped my throat. “Who would believe your shitass story after those evidences, Mirabel?”
“Shall we find out? I’d let your ghost watch how Roman would go against you in front of the press…” My heart tried an escape plan, thumping hard against my rib cage. I tugged hard on the rope, realizing the situation I was in as my eyes glistened with tears. “I was going to go out of your lives, Mirabel!” I yelled, struggling harder.
“Do your thing, boys.” She waved at me, stepping back. “I won't make it hurt, just something little and it would feel like you never exist.”
I knew Mirabel was evil, but I never knew she could go this far. One of my kidnappers pulled out the syringe.
“No, you can't, please Mirabel!” I was begging… I really needed to. I was not ready for a death like this. She was going to make people hate me more after death. “M… Mirabel,” my throat had gone sour. She didn't listen. I had only divorced her son, and she wanted me gone.
The man with the syringe got closer. I shook my head continuously, praying the rope would get off my wrist so I could run, run as far as my legs could carry me. I had suddenly lost my ability for words, my face doing the pleading, until I couldn't as he plunged the needle into my neck.
A gasp tore from my lips as whatever was injected in me ate me out slowly. Dizziness hit me, but harder than when I was kidnapped, the room becoming a blur. “Do you think the bridge thing would be a better option?” I could still hear them talk, until my pulse grew louder in my ears than their words.
I wanted to live. My life before the Lancasters had all been fantasies—a fairytale marriage, a prince charming, and beautiful kids. We would have good trips together an—
I choked hard as I felt my body falling, my head hitting hard against something solid.
It really was the end.
Guess I'd be leaving in this darkness forever.
- Writer
