CHAPTER 2
1347 Words
HAZEL
“His father?” Betty stared at me as if I had completely lost my mind. “Hazel, what exactly are you thinking?”
I shrugged and leaned deeper into the couch.
“To be honest, I’m thinking very clearly for the first time in years.”
Betty groaned loudly and threw her hands in the air.
“This is what prison did to you. I knew it. I just knew it.”
A small laugh escaped me.
The funny thing was that prison didn’t break me. Jarvis did.
Suddenly, all those moments made sense now. The guilt in his eyes whenever he visited me. The way he kept apologising for things I thought were related to my suffering in prison, and I asked him to stop visiting because of his mental health.
I was so stupid.
The signs were there all along.
“You know,” Betty muttered, sitting beside me, “if you and your mother didn’t look exactly alike, I would have questioned whether that woman truly gave birth to you.”
I smiled bitterly.
Trust my mother to betray me with the same face she gave me.
“What are you planning?” Betty asked carefully.
I stretched my legs and stared at the ceiling for a moment.
“First, I don’t want either of them knowing I’m out of prison.”
Betty frowned.
“That part actually makes sense.”
“My mother stopped visiting me months ago. I know why now.” I let out a cold laugh. “She was busy sleeping with my fiancé.”
The words still hurt to say. I inhaled deeply before continuing.
“Next is Jarvis’s father. Mr Elvis Laurent.”
Betty sat upright immediately.
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
“Hazel!”
“You know Jarvis never introduced me to him properly,” I said. “Every single time I brought it up, he always had excuses. He said his father was difficult. That he wanted us to wait until the right time.”
I shook my head slowly.
“Turns out the i***t was probably scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“His father.”
Betty blinked.
I continued calmly, my brain already arranging pieces together.
“Jarvis worships that man, literally. The way some people fear God? That’s how Jarvis fears his father.”
“And your plan is to sleep with him?” Betty asked in disbelief.
I looked at her.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you implied it!”
I ignored her dramatic expression.
“From everything I know, Mr Elvis has a favourite son, and it’s definitely not Jarvis.”
Betty looked exhausted already.
“For the love of God, Hazel, please don’t do this. My company audited one of his businesses last year. That man is dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
“He’s powerful, cold, and ruthless. Men like that don’t fall in love.”
I smiled faintly.
“Everybody falls for something.”
She grabbed my wrist suddenly.
“You just got out of prison today. Today, Hazel. Can you at least cry first before planning revenge?”
“I already know a few things about him,” I said calmly. “I studied him while preparing to become his daughter-in-law.”
Betty stared at me.
I glanced at the wall clock. Four hours left.
“Mr Elvis takes evening walks almost every day,” I said. “Alone.”
Betty’s eyes widened slowly as realisation dawned on her face.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She stood up immediately.
“I refuse to participate in this nonsense.”
“You know martial arts.”
“That doesn’t mean I should help you commit whatever this is!”
I stood up and walked toward the tiny kitchen.
“I need him interested in me,” I said simply. “And nothing creates connection faster than saving someone during a vulnerable moment.”
Betty followed behind me.
“You sound like a criminal mastermind.”
“Technically, I’m an ex-convict.”
“That is not funny.”
I grabbed a cigarette from the old pack sitting near the counter.
Betty snatched it from me immediately.
“No smoking.”
“Oh, please.”
“You quit because Jarvis hated it.”
I looked at her quietly.
“Exactly.”
The room fell silent for a second.
Betty sighed heavily before sitting back down.
“You’re really serious about this.”
“I lost two years because of that man.”
My voice came out calmer than I expected.
“I sat in prison while he slept peacefully in my bed and touched my mother with the same hands he used to touch me.”
Betty softened instantly.
I continued before emotions could catch up with me.
“We’re doing this tonight.”
She groaned again.
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
++++++
I marked the date boldly on Betty’s calendar.
Day one, the beginning.
Betty walked out of the bedroom dressed in a dark tracksuit and cap, looking absolutely miserable.
“You’re enjoying this too much,” she complained.
“You look cute.”
“I look like somebody about to get arrested.”
I laughed softly for the first time that day.
“What if he attacks me?” she asked nervously. “That man works out. I saw pictures online.”
“You know karate.”
“One month of self-defence classes is not karate, Hazel!”
I ignored her panic and grabbed my jacket.
“Relax. You only need to scare him.”
“You make bad decisions with too much confidence.”
“And yet you still follow me.”
“That’s because you’re my best friend and I’m stupid.”
We drove toward the exact route Mr Elvis usually used for his evening jog.
I knew because I paid attention whenever Jarvis talked about his father.
The car stopped a few meters away from the quiet road.
Right on time.
A tall figure appeared under the streetlights, jogging steadily.
Even from a distance, I recognised him instantly, and honestly, pictures didn’t do him justice.
Mr Elvis Laurent looked younger in person.
I gave Betty a look.
“Go.”
She muttered a prayer before stepping out with the fake gun hidden beneath her hoodie.
I stayed hidden nearby and watched everything carefully.
Betty approached him quickly and pointed the toy gun at him.
“Don’t move!” she yelled, trying to deepen her voice.
Mr Elvis froze immediately and slowly raised both hands.
For a man his age, his reflexes were impressive.
Perfect timing. I rushed forward.
“What are you doing?” I shouted before grabbing Betty aggressively.
She struggled dramatically while I snatched the fake gun away from her.
“Run!” I yelled at her.
Betty took off immediately. I turned toward Mr Elvis.
“Sir, are you okay?”
He was breathing heavily, one hand pressed against his chest.
“That lunatic almost gave me a heart attack,” he muttered.
His voice, God.
Jarvis really sounded exactly like him.
“I’m so sorry,” I said quickly. “Look, the gun is fake.”
I showed it to him.
He stared at it before exhaling sharply.
“I’ve jogged on this road for years,” he said. “Nothing like this has ever happened.”
“You shouldn’t stay here,” I said softly. “I can help you get home safely.”
His eyes finally landed fully on my face.
For a second, I felt like the man could see through people completely.
“Your job here is done,” he added rudely.
Without breaking eye contact, he slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and tucked it into my jacket pocket.
“For your trouble,” he said.
I watched him walk away slowly and smiled to myself.
Looks like getting Elvis Laurent wouldn’t be easy after all.
- Writer
