New Reality 2: Justice (32 page)

"About what?"

"I haven't felt the baby move since I watched Frankie's screen and saw them tie him up, rape me, and cut his baby's throat in front of him."

Gina pulled air through her clenched teeth and shook her head. "I didn't want to ask about it the other day. I knew it was bad but… Fucking
animals!
Why would they do that to a person?"
 

Before Marie could answer, Gina said, "Don't worry. I'm sure it's fine. Maybe it feels your sadness and is keeping its head down for a few days?"

"Really?"

"It's the best I've got, honey."

It didn't sound very good. Unable to control her shaking limbs, Marie said, "I'm so scared."

"Just come and live with me. At least until Frankie gets out."

"I can't. I have to make this place a home. It has to be ready for when Frankie's freed. I don't care if this is a single mum's block; I'm bringing him back here. Besides, there are no screens on the estate."

"No Hank Manifesto to pollute your day?"

"No."

"Wow. That sounds like heaven."

"It is. Talking of Frankie being freed, we went on the tour earlier."

"And what happened?"

"The same thing as before."

"The same ward?"

"Yep."

"Are you sure?"

Marie pulled another kirby grip from her hair. "I dropped one of these on the way in and it was still there on the way out. And the tattooed man was still in there too."

Although she didn't respond, Gina leaned towards Marie as if to hear her better.

"There were maybe two hundred inmates in that room."

"So where are the rest? What have they done with them?"

"I don't know, but you can bet your life I'm going to find out."

Chapter Forty-Nine

Despite Doug's promise, nothing had been done to Frankie the next day… or for the rest of that week, in fact. It was now Friday night and Marie was sitting opposite her boss in Zampanò's, listening to him chow down.
Would it have been easier to take if she could see him too?
The wet squelch of his avid consumption conjured images of feasting squids—though squids were probably prettier than the slug of a man in full feeding frenzy. The rich smell of sweet pork was so full Marie could taste it. Any trace of an appetite vanished, and she pushed her own plate away.

The saccharine and fatty aroma rushed forwards on the back of his words. "I'm glad you agreed to dinner again, darling."

I'll give you darling, you fat fuck.
"I love eating out with you," Marie said. "What I like about you, Dougie, is that you know how to treat a woman. Do you mind if I call you Dougie?"

"Not at all, sweetheart; you can call me whatever you like."

His laugh was littered with snorts that made Marie's toes curl. She pulled her bag close, the gun adding a reassuring weight to it. The same fantasy ran through her mind on a loop. She'd stand up, push the gun in his face, and lead him off to get Frankie out of New Reality. Once she was at the prison with Frankie by her side, she'd pull the trigger and the pair of them would disappear. Ha! If only. Her life wasn't a fucking movie.

"It's hard to see in here, but I was wondering if you've been using tan in a can?" Doug asked.

A hot wave prickled Marie's skin.
Was he noticing already? Jesus, she was marked after only a few days.
"W… what makes you say that?"

"Your skin, it looks darker."

"And you
like
it?"

"I love it. You were looking a bit on the pale side before, so it's nice to see you looking… um, healthier. It suits you."

Marie forced a giggle. Thankfully, the darkness spared her having to force her facial expression too. "Thank you. I hoped you'd notice."

When Doug slid a loaded wineglass across the table, Marie picked it up and pushed it to her closed lips.
If the baby weren’t going to make it, what harm would it do? A few glasses would make this entire process a hell of a lot easier. No, the baby might still be okay.
She put her glass down and slid it away from her.

"So what do you think? Nice grape, huh?"

A lick of her lips made the taste of wine zing on her tongue and Marie swallowed her excess saliva. "Mmm, it's wonderful; you know how to pick a good vino."

"Would you like some more?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm a bit of a lightweight, so I want to take it slow."

The silhouette of Doug knocked back another glass before the man picked up the menu. Bright light exploded from the dark, throwing a mask of hideous shadow across his face.
 

It was hard not to laugh at his chubby features as they contorted while he tried to see through his intoxication. It seemed that no amount of twisting the menu or tilting his head would sober him up.

"So what are your plans for F… the man who kidnapped your kid?"
Jesus, Marie; hold it together, girl!

The haze of alcohol vanished, and Doug sat up straight and pointed an angry finger at her. "I'm going to
destroy
him. Although, we've decided to wait a bit longer before we do it." His voice grew louder and some of the silhouettes from the neighbouring tables turned to look at them. "But there's no
way
that waste of space is getting away with what he did. No fucking way!"

As she looked at him, Marie clenched her teeth. She needed to leave it there. Doug wasn't an idiot. It was important to remember that. She had to play this right.

Marie then stood up and forced a smile. "I'm just going to powder my nose." When she leaned over and patted his arm, the fabric of his suit was damp with sweat. The clammy touch sent her skin crawling, but she managed to fake another smile. "Just don't go changing, honey."

Doug snorted again. What was more intoxicating for him—the wine or the inflation of his male ego? "Don't you worry, sugar tits; I'll stay exactly the same."

Sugar tits?
What the fuck?
Pulling her hand away, Marie navigated the route to the bathroom, the strange layout of the restaurant giving her what felt like an innate path-finding instinct in the dark.

***

The stark, white light in the bathroom was so strong it burned Marie's eyes. After stumbling to the sink, she held onto it and blinked several times.
Was the rapid change some kind of cruel trick? A blind man's joke on the world of the sighted? Or was it just another extreme sensory experience by way of the restaurant's theme?
Strong food, quiet atmosphere, stark changes in light, and a different amount of stairs every time you climbed or descended them; if nothing else could be said about it, Zampanò's was an interesting place.

Once she'd regained her sight, Marie pressed down on the tap, and the water gushed out. This damn restaurant had caught her out too many times already, so Marie swiped her little finger beneath the water flow. It was lukewarm, although it would have been fitting if Zampanò had made it ice cold or boiling hot. The man seemed to love extremes.

The soap dispenser creaked as she pumped some of the thick pink solution into her hands. She then rubbed to the point where it almost hurt. No matter how hard she scrubbed, it did nothing to remove the memory of touching the sweaty Doug. The man was disgusting.

A look at her own reflection and then Marie used the mirror to scan the room behind her. It was empty and every cubicle door was hanging open. "Come on, Marie, you can do this. This is for Frankie. Doug may be a slug of a man, but if anyone knows the truth of the prison it's him."

It was hard to fight her depression when Marie rubbed her stomach. There was still no kick. A deep breath and she exhaled hard before undoing her baggy blouse and pulling her white vest top down a little. If she wanted Doug to talk, he needed to see her tits.

Another look into her own eyes and she nodded. "You can do this."

***

Once she was back at her seat, Marie leaned forwards and pressed the menu so it lit up. She then directed the screen at her cleavage.

The slapping of Doug's jaws stopped.
No surprise there
.

She tilted it for an even better view and flicked through the menu options. "What a fantastic range of food they have here. This is such a special place. Do you bring all of your lady friends here, Dougie?"

The silence lasted for a few seconds. "No… Um, no, just the special ones."

Smooth.
"Oh, you flatter me."

"I'm being serious, Marie. You're one special lady."

Marie pressed her chest into the edge of the table and lifted her upper body. It tugged on her top and almost exposed a nipple. "I would
love
to try every option on this menu."

"Play your cards right, my sweet, and we'll be eating here together for a long time to come." Doug then cleared his throat. "I have to ask you something though."

"Shoot."

"It's a bit personal."

Marie batted the air with a limp wave and giggled. "I think our relationship's at the point where we can ask personal questions, don't you?"

Doug shuffled in his seat. "Have you put weight on?"

Marie sat up straight and let the menu fall face down onto the table with a whack
.
"I
can't
believe you'd ask me that!"

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It's just, you look
good—
better than ever, in fact—and I just wanted to say that it suits you."

After releasing a long sigh, Marie relaxed back in her seat. "I
have
put weight on, but I was getting a bit self-conscious about it." A press of a finger into her left breast and she laughed. "My boobs are growing out of control."

Although she couldn't see his face, Marie could hear the grin in his tone. The idiot still didn't realise she was pregnant. "I'd noticed. If you need a hand controlling them…?"

Assaulted by the image of a sweating Doug on top of her, Marie did her best to suppress her shudder. "I've always admired you, Doug. I think you do an amazing job at Rixon."

"Why, thank you."

"I mean, I've read the public reports and see how much each prisoner is worth to us. The fact that you can make a profit and pay all of us a decent wage is
astounding.
How do you make so much money from so little investment?"
Was she pushing too hard?

"When I was a boy, I used to race go-karts."

"Go-karts?"

"Yep, not the motorised kind; they were homemade, downhill go-karts. Every month, all the kids in the neighbourhood would race them down a big hill at the end of the road. We'd all put sweets in a bucket and the winner would get all of the sweets."

"And you won?"
Of course he won, look at the size of him. He didn't get that big from eating five portions of fruit and veg a day.

"
Every
time."

"How?"

"Well, we had rules. No weights in the go-karts. The wheels couldn't be too big. No pink on your kart."

"No pink?"

"Girls didn't race and only faggots had pink if they were a boy."

Marie didn't reply. The idiot still clearly believed that.

"Anyway, so I would win every week because I learned how to bend the rules. I had the same building materials as anyone else—a wooden go-kart, BMX wheels, rope for steering…"

"So why did you always win."

"Because beneath the wooden panels were sheets of steel. My go-kart was twice the weight of anyone else's. I said it was dense wood, and no matter how hard the others tried, they couldn't get a wood as heavy as mine… because it was metal."

Doug threw his head back and laughed at the ceiling. "No one was any the wiser and I got more sweets than I could eat. And believe me, I could eat a
lot.
"

Thanks, Dougie, I'd never have guessed!

"One thing I learned early on was that cheating was only cheating if you got caught. Which, of course, I never did."

It was a timid fish she was reeling in, so Marie wound carefully. "So you keep the government happy with the tours and no one's any the wiser…"

"Exactly. But I think we need to end our chat here. With the amount I've had to drink, I'll probably end up telling you all of our secrets."

Marie leaned forwards again, her breasts as good as hanging out. When she flicked the menu on, she lit them up once more. "And we wouldn't want that now would we?"

Doug then said, "How about we go back to my hotel?"

Was there anywhere she'd less rather go?
She turned the menu off and clapped her hands together. Just getting the words out was like vomiting glue, but she did it with a smile anyway. "That sounds
splendid.
"

Chapter Fifty

This was it—the hotel room. With Doug half-cut and thinking through his penis, this was the moment to strike. Time was running out, so Marie had to make the most of this opportunity. Within a week, Frankie may be nothing but a shell of his former self—if he wasn't that already after what those bastards had done to him. Within a month, if the baby was alive, she wouldn't be able to hide her pregnancy any more—and that was being ambitious; it was pretty obvious as it was.

After Doug swiped the card reader and the light turned green, he said, "Welcome to my humble lodgings."

When he pushed the door wide, Marie lost her breath despite herself. The room stood in stark contrast to Zampanò's. Everything was white—the walls, the furniture, the bedspread. Even the frame for the television was white. It was so brilliant she checked behind herself. It wouldn't have been a surprise if her shadow was pinned to the wall like a nuclear blast had just gone off. "This room's beautiful. You have wonderful taste."

Ever the gentleman, Doug barged in first. The act of holding the door open for her once he was in was an afterthought at best. He was treating her like she was some kind of hooker.
And maybe, when you got down to it, that's what she was. Should she just leave now and find another way?

When Doug said, "Come in, dear," Marie did as he asked.

The white carpet was so thick it was like walking on a mattress. "I could get used to this."

After slapping her arse, Doug winked. "Play your cards right, sweetheart, and you'll see a lot more of this lifestyle."