Chapter Eight - Getting to know you



Clover’s POV



Chantelle frowned in confusion, her eyebrows almost knitting together. “Clover?”

“Yes, I would prefer it if you called me Clover?”

“Why?” she questioned.

“I like the purity and beauty of nature, I particularly love flowers.” Chantelle smiled warmly, as if I’d just recited a beautiful poem.

“That’s lovely.”

“What’s your favourite flower?”

“Roses.”

I smiled, nodding my head a little. “Mine too. You should go and pack, we need to leave soon.” She got up immediately and went to pack a bag. Sitting back on the sofa I wondered if I was really doing the right thing and if this was a good idea. The police were looking for me, with Chantelle I had a better chance, no one was looking for a couple. Mother would think this was a good idea, but not with Chantelle.

“I’m ready,” she said quietly, as she walked back into the room after ten minutes packing.

Standing up, I took her bag off of her. “I’ll carry that.” I gestured to the front door and Chantelle took one last look of her flat before walking out.

With both bags on my back the injuries I’d received during the crash worsened. The pain intensified and was almost as bad as when they’d just occurred. But I still wouldn’t ley Chantelle carry her own bag. I had been raised better than that.

“Clover, let me carry one,” she pleaded again. She did call me Colin a few times but now she seems to have gotten used to Clover. “You’re in pain.”

“I’m fine, Chantelle.”

She sighed. “Well if it gets any worse then let me carry my bag.” I smiled, nodding my head slightly. Chantelle seemed happy I had agreed with her, although there was no way I would let that happen.

I gestured with my hand for her to turn to our left, down a small street that would lead us out of the town and towards a more sheltered road. There were multiple buildings along that road which were hopefully abandoned. Not one police car past us as we walked down the deserted high street. There couldn’t have been more than a handful of people out walking around and none of them even looked up at us.

“Tell me more about yourself, Clover,” Chantelle asked, brushing her hair behind her ears.

“What would you like to know?”

“Everything.” She shrugged. “Tell me about your childhood.” My childhood. I hadn’t even discussed that with the girls. “What were you like as a kid?” Gritting my teeth, I tried to ignore her use of the word kid.

“I was a carefree child, always playing outside on my bike or on the swing set. My parents and I would play hide and seek on a Friday night after my father got home from work. On Saturday mornings I would watch cartoons in front of the television and eat cereal with my dad, and in the afternoon he would take me to the park to play football. What about yours?” I hadn’t lied to her; I just didn’t tell her my past beyond the age of five.

“My childhood was great…to begin with. I don’t remember much about my mum, I only have a few memories, like her voice when sang me to sleep at night and how her curly hair would tickle my face when she hugged me. I don’t ever remember her shouting or getting angry. We were all so happy when she was alive.”

Without knowing it, I had taken her hand in my own. “How did she die?”

“She contacted pneumonia after visiting her friend in hospital, at first everyone just thought she had a cold but her condition soon worsened. Mum had asthma so her body couldn’t fight it off and she died three days after being diagnosed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

We both stopped at the end of the road and looked down the dirty track that led into the forest. Looking ahead, I could only see a few meters into the tress, past that was just darkness. Chantelle’s hand tightened around mine.

“I don’t like the dark,” she admitted quietly.

“I’ll be here the whole time.” We slowly walked forward. I flicked on the torch, lighting our way slightly. “Tell me more about your life; it’ll distract you from the dark.”

“After my mum died,” she said, launching straight back into her story, “our family became closer. A lot of families would break up after something like that but we didn’t, I was proud of that. It lasted until I was almost fifteen, Nan died and Dad couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Without Chantelle knowing it, she had loosened her grip slightly. Talking must have been distracting her. “Do you know where your brothers are?”

“No. They said they would keep in touch and they did for a few months but after that all contact stopped. I have no idea where they are or what they could be doing now. I always wonder if they came back for me after I left but I guess I can’t think about that too much. They probably forgot all about me.” She whispered the last part, her voice thick with pain.

“I’m sure they still think about you, Chantelle. They probably just found themselves caught up in their own lives, it’s easy to do. Humans by nature are quite selfish.”

“You’re not. You’re one of the good guys.”

I smiled down at her although she couldn’t see. “I try.”

The thing I loved about Chantelle was that she judged for herself, rather than listening to others. She knew I had broken the ‘law’ but she still took me for who I was, or who she thought I was anyway.

“Tell me about your family, Clover. I’d like to know about them before we meet.”

A smile spread across my face as I pictured my girls’ smiles. I missed them terribly; our lives were perfect before it was ripped away by people that were incapable to enforcing even the simplest laws and protecting families.

“My girls are incredible, intelligent, beautiful and pure.”

“What are their names? Do they look alike?”

I frowned. It would only be natural for her to assume they all looked alike, that they were related. “They don’t look alike, none of us are related. Rose has dark hair, Poppy is red and Lily’s is a dirty blonde colour, very pretty though. They’re all beautiful, as I said, but very different in looks.”

“They all have flower names too?” she said excitedly, proud of herself for working it out. “Did you all change your names? Where did you meet?”

Thankfully a large house came into view. “I’ll tell you another time, there’s a place for us to stay,” I said, pointing the torch towards the old house.

“Do you think it’ll be okay to stay there?” Chantelle whispered, even though we were alone and far enough from the house not to be heard.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, I don’t think it’s a particularly nice place anyway.” I could tell from the litter, old couches, fridge and a broken bath that was scattered around in the garden, that it wasn’t a picturesque family home.

I stepped through the front door first and Chantelle followed closely behind. Scattered over the floor were loose newspaper pages, tin foil and needles. This was not the type of place I wanted us to stay in but we really didn’t have a choice, the sun was quickly rising so we needed to shelter and stay out of public view.

“Clover, I don’t like this,” Chantelle whispered, pulling on my hand.

“Shh, we don’t have a choice. It’ll be fine, I promise.” As I reassured her someone walked into the hallway. When I turned and looked her up and down, I couldn’t help but feel sick. The young woman stood in front of us wearing a brown stained yellow dress. Her hair was shining with grease and sticking to her head. There were small round red marks on the inside of her arms, circled with yellow bruises.

She looked at me for a minute, her eyes narrowing as if she was trying to work something out. Suddenly, she gasped, her bloodshot eyes popping out. “Chantelle, step outside for a minute,” I ordered, not taking my eyes off this girl who clearly recognised me.

“Why? What are-”

“Chantelle,” I cut her off, “Step outside.” Her breathing was ragged as she left the building and closed the door.

The girl in front of me looked terrified. “You know me.” It wasn’t a question. The dirty girl gulped, tripping over a cardboard box filled with old newspapers as she backed up.

“I-I won’t say anything,” she stuttered.

‘Kill her.’

My eye twitched as I thought about my bare hands on her filthy body without a hygienic place to clean myself after. It had to be done. I stood to lose my whole family and my freedom if this disgusting creature called the authorities.

“You won’t say anything?” I repeated, taking one small step closer to her and touching the handle of the knife in my pocket.

She raised her shaking hands. “No. I promise.”

Sighing, I clamped my hand around the handle tight. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve heard that.” Her eyes flicked to my hand in my pocket, her eyes widening as she worked out what I was doing. “This will be quick. I promise.”

“No, please no.”

I thought she would run. She knew this house much better than I did so she could easily run and hide. Instead though, she sunk to her knees, pressed her palms together and prayed. That was the first time one of them had prayed in front of me. How incredibly hypocritical. They spent their entire lives selling their bodies for drugs and alcohol, breaking up families and ruining people’s lives, but at the end they suddenly discover religion.

“Get up,” I growled, clenching my fist around the knife handle so hard that my hand started to ache. Immediately, she forgot God and jumped up, pressing her back against the wall.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered. Tears rolled down her face, stopping at the bottom of her chin for a second before dripping to the floor. “Please. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

I laughed humourlessly. “Done nothing wrong? You’re everything that’s wrong. People like you are disgusting, filthy, whores,” I shouted. My whole body felt hot and the very ends of my fingertips tingled in rage. How dare she try and tell me she was a good person. That she had done nothing wrong, that she wasn’t ripping apart someone’s family.

“I don’t…I don’t understand. What did I do?” Before she could mutter another word, I launched forwards, clamping one hand over her mouth and holding the knife against her neck. She whimpered and squeezed her eyes closed. Underneath me, her body shook violently.

“You know what you did. You all know what you do!”

‘Kill the whore.’

She struggled to shake her head against my hand as she muttered something. “Shut up, just shut up.” Her tears flowed freely as she sobbed, trying to be quiet.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. When I opened them again she was looking at me pleadingly through glazed eyes. There was nothing she could say or do to change my mind though. People like her had no place in this world and nothing to offer.

Without another thought, I shoved the knife deep into her throat. The blade slid through the delicate skin much easier than usual. Pushing her down, I quickly stepped back to shelter myself from the blood that was pouring freely from the wound.

She slumped to the floor, gagging and spluttering blood. I managed to jump back further just in time to as her filthy blood and saliva that sprayed in my direction, staining the dirty cream carpet.

Once her eyes closed and her body stopped convulsing I slung a brown blanket over her that was hanging over the bannister. The blanket was large enough to cover both her body and the splattered blood patches.

Taking several deep breaths to slow my heart rate, I smoothed down my hair and clothes. Chantelle was still waiting outside. I spun around to go and find her but she was standing in the door way with wide eyes and a pale complexion.

“Chantelle,” I said soothingly, holding my hands up slightly. “It’s okay.”

Before I could blink, she had jumped around and was sprinting out of the house and along the mud path, towards the forest. I took off after her, running as fast as I could and shouting her name.

She ran quickly, dodging the trees and roots sticking up from the ground. I could hear her breathing heavily and grunting, trying to get away.

I had almost caught up to her when she tripped on loose branch and fell to the floor. Chantelle cried out and flipped herself onto her back, her face filling with horror as her eyes landed on me. I stood above her and smiled. “You shouldn’t have run.”

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Firstly, Happy Birthday to Bailey Geyer for the 15th :)

The cover on the side was made by trees_need_hugs. Thank you, I love it :D

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. What do you think is going to happen to Chantelle?

<3