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ANGELINE

Angeline. Angeline.

Wake up.

Pain. Her head, her back. Her arms.

“Angeline.”

Where was she? What was happening? She grappled for the night before. Had they partied too hard? Was this some kind of brutal hangover from a debauched evening out?

The smell of rot, of mold tickling her nose, her throat. Concrete all around her. The sound of water endlessly drip-dripping. The sweet, metallic taste of blood in her mouth. This was not a hangover. It all came back in a sickening rush.

The island. The game. Alex dead. Tavo, his face filled with hate. The dark path. The blow to the side of the head. Someone else. Who was there? Her memory churned, murky and gray. A face she knew.

“No,” she croaked, forcing her eyes open.

It was dark except from some dim obviously battery-operated light source over in the far corner of the room, and even that was flickering. Was someone standing there? Still. Watching.

“What’s happening? Who’s there?”

Maybe this wasn’t real. Some kind of dream. And she’d wake up with Maverick in their bedroom back in the city. She loved the way the light washed in their big windows in the morning, and the city was spread out around them, the day waiting.

Graffiti on the wall. Debris on the floor. Everything tilting, groaning. The basement of Enchantments. We just ask that you limit your time in the hotel itself. We can’t guarantee your safety. That’s what Anton had said when he delivered the permits. The building is slated for demolition. She’d totally blocked that part out.

“Who’s there?” she said, forcing her voice deeper.

She oriented herself. Bound to a rusting metal chair, arms behind her, her ankles were tied. Angeline struggled against her bindings, grunting, the metal legs scraping against the concrete floor.

Fear. Thick and hot in her belly, her throat. That feeling of being powerless, at the mercy of someone stronger.

“Do you think he’ll come for you?”

A voice in the darkness.

“Or do you think he’ll find a way to run?”

“Who?” she asked. But she knew.

“He’s slippery. If there’s a way out, he’ll find it, right? With or without you. I think you understand that. You know him better than anyone.”

“Tavo,” she said, although it didn’t sound like him. “Don’t do this.”

Angeline experienced a moment of clarity, the fog in her mind clearing. This was about Maverick. Something he had done. Of course it was. It was always going to come to this, wasn’t it? With Angeline paying for things that Maverick had done.

“Do you know what he has in those bags he’s been hauling around?”

She’d had her suspicions. After they’d dumped Alex’s body over the wall, and Tavo had stormed away from them, Mav had grabbed her arm.

“Let’s go,” he’d said, eyes wild, desperate. “Right now. Let’s get in the Range Rover and take the jet. We can go anywhere. Just the two of us. Just like you wanted.”

“What about the challenge? The company?”

“Fuck it,” he said. “It’s just us. Just you and me, that’s all that matters now.”

And she could see that he meant it. And that he was terrified of what they’d done, and what would happen next, and of whoever was trying to hurt them. It lit up something primal in her, as well.

“We can’t,” she said.

“We can . I can take care of us. I made sure of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just…trust me. Ange. Get in the car with me. We’ll get off this rock. Wheels up in an hour. Anywhere in the world you want.”

She didn’t say anything, just let him take her by the hand and lead her back to the lot. Her mind was ticking through possibilities: go, stay, go to the police.

But when they arrived at the lot, Tavo was in the other Rover, the one Maverick had been driving. From the driver’s seat, Gustavo cast them a look that Angeline couldn’t read, then tore out, gravel spitting behind him.

“Wait!” Maverick ran after the car a few feet, then came to a stop. But Tavo was gone, heading back to the site. Angeline had the keys to the Rover that she and Tavo had arrived in.

“Fuck,” Maverick yelled at the sky. “I must have left the keys in the ignition.”

The look of despair on his face. That’s when she knew what was in the bags. Their heft. Even the scent that came off them. It was like him to be suddenly careless, to leave the bags unat tended even after he’d not left them out of his sight for a minute. Was it a form of self-sabotage?

“Let’s go anyway,” she said, feeling desperation tug at her, too. “Let’s just go home. Face whatever comes next. Together.”

He shook his head slowly, watched Tavo until his taillights were swallowed by the night. Finally, tired of waiting, Angeline got in the driver’s seat. After another moment Maverick climbed in beside her, his big frame slumped.

“We need to get the other Range Rover,” he said. “There’s something in there that I need.”

“We don’t need it. We don’t need anything. Let’s leave it all behind.”

He looked at her in the dim light, half his face in shadow. Now it was his turn to balk. “I…can’t.”

It was then that she’d seen how trapped he was, like the monkey with his hand in the candy jar. He would never be free because he could never let go of the sweets. The money, the toys, the views. There was never going to be a moment when it was just the two of them, without an audience, without the toys and the next big adventure. Because that Maverick—he simply didn’t exist.

Here in this concrete dungeon, bound to a chair, she saw it all so clearly. Too late. The bill had come due, like Petra promised. And Angeline would be the one to pay.

“Why are you doing this? What do you want?” asked Angeline now. A sob crawled up her throat, anger, terror.

There in the corner, she saw a blinking red light.

“Are you…filming this?” she asked. “Are we live ?”

No answer came from the form standing in the darkness.