Four
I HEARD THE ENGINE OF a powerful car die nearby and footsteps hit the ground as someone got out. The clicking sound of what sounded like Sexton’s brogue shoes got louder and a few seconds later, a knock came on the side of the waste bin.
“Miss Patrick, let’s have you before there’s any curtain twitching from the property owners.”
I dared not move. How did Sexton know where I was hiding?
Fuck you, I dared reply, but only in my own head.
I waited to see if he had the balls to lift the lid and drag me out. What a pathetic man, he was – doing the bidding of his freak of a boss.
I must have had a bad case of Stockholm syndrome… six f*****g years.
Wow, I felt mad.
Sexton lifted the lid after three minutes and whispered, “He made me sew stuff into your bags, shoes, coats… virtually e
