Chương 46: Escape Plans and Pinky Promises

Regina drove confidently down the winding country road. Although she had not been down this road for what seemed like a lifetime, she still knew it like the back of her hand. She had spent most of her childhood here. A sense of nostalgia came over her as she remembered the old farmhouse she had grown up in. Despite it being lost to a fire when she was a much younger woman, she could still see it in her mind's eye.

Through the shadow, she could make out the barn still standing tall and proud even after all these years. Navigating the long driveway, she smiled as memories flooded back. She and Roxie would play for hours down near the pond. There were the days of picking wildflowers in the field with gentle breezes blowing by. She didn't need daylight to visualize the property; it was there etched in her memory. She drove past where the house once stood, and her grandmother immediately came to mind.

She could still see her sitting on the porch drinking lemonade as she and her sister ran tirelessly playing one game or another. She couldn't remember when exactly she began converting the barn, but she remembered the day she dubbed it her escape hatch all too well. In her early days as an agent, long before the current administration began systematically dismantling the government agencies and enacting their agenda, she was assigned to the case of a lifetime. She went into the assignment wide-eyed and naïve.

She believed she was invincible and that she could outsmart any target. Looking back, however, she could pick apart every misstep she had made, every miscalculation, every unnecessary risk she had taken. Somewhere along the way, she had found herself no longer the huntress but the hunted. Cut off from backup or resources, she found she had been left to her own devices and cunning to survive. Her assignment had been to infiltrate the Tristarian crime family and gather intel on the heir apparent, Zoran.

She was young and beautiful and so was he. She and Zoran had become close, in retrospect, too close. She broke the cardinal rule, she let her emotions run the show instead of her mind. Then she began making mistakes. She parked in front of the barn, remembering that fateful day. It was burned so deeply in her memory that she could now relive it at will. She had let her guard down one time too many times, revealed too much, and by the time she realized it, it was too late to escape.

He had been playing her, just as much as she had been playing him. Her cover had been blown, and she was too smitten to notice. It wasn't until his henchmen dragged her out of bed and locked her away that the truth was staring her in the face. She wasn't sure what hurt worse, the feel of his fists, or the betrayal in his eyes when he looked at her. She endured the beatings day after day, but did not break. She had to find a way out, she knew it wouldn't be long before he would just give up and dispose of her.

Desperation, she found, worked wonders for shifting one's focus. She knew if she could get out of the room, she could potentially escape. Zoran and his henchmen had remained blissfully unaware of her talents. That was her out, and she knew it. Her ability to morph her appearance would give her the chance to disappear unnoticed, but she had to make the transformation unobserved. She couldn't do it while she was in restraints, in a cell, with guards watching her every move.

She mistakenly thought that if she asked to use the bathroom, they would untie her and escort her, but much to her dismay, they simply brought in a bucket, untied her, and told her to 'have at it'. They didn't so much as turn their backs, watching while she forced herself to go. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. With each passing day, she could feel her strength and resolve dwindling.

She was becoming increasingly convinced that the out she so desperately needed was simply never going to happen. Just as she believed all was lost, it happened. Zoran had seemingly decided on a different approach. If he couldn't beat the answers he needed out of her, perhaps he could charm them or so she thought. When he entered the cell carrying a tray, the smell made her stomach growl and her mouth water. She had not eaten for days, and it smelled wonderful. Was he going to eat it in front of her?

The last thing she expected was him calling in the guards to undo her bindings so she could eat. She looked at him with uncertainty, then looked down at the plate. The skepticism on her face spoke volumes.

"It's not poisoned. If that's what you're thinking," he said, picking up a morsel from the plate and popping it in his mouth. She eyed the food cautiously, all her favorites. What was his end game here? He looked at her lovingly, compassionately, seemingly truly saddened by the turn of events. Was he having a change of heart, and maybe decided his intel was wrong?

"Sweetheart," he said, "eat, I know you must be hungry." She knew he didn't trust her. There was no knife or fork, only a simple spoon. There was nothing on the tray that could potentially be used as a weapon. She began eating slowly, despite her stomach screaming for more.

"Once you finish here, how about we get you all cleaned up? I'm sure you are pretty uncomfortable right now." She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at this. She knew the shower trick. No better place to dismember a body than in the shower. All the evidence simply gets washed down the drain. Was that the plan, feed her, give her the warm fuzzies, then have her killed? He could see the alarm bells going off inside her head. Damn, she wished he didn't know her so well.

"Sweetheart, you look nervous," he said, placing his hand on top of hers.

"I give you my personal assurance no harm will come to you from me, or my associates, while you are getting cleaned up." What else was he going to say? Well, Sweetheart, enjoy your last meal because it's off to the slaughterhouse with you once you're finished. She could feel her stomach muscles clench as the danger signs flashed brighter. Sensing her continued apprehension, he sighed.

"My love, to prove to you that you are in no danger, I arranged to…" He broke off and turned to the door.

"Send her in," he called out to the guard. The guard opened the door, and a familiar face walked in.

"Darling, you know my sister, Raven, say hello, Raven."

"Hi," the young goblin whispered. Regina could tell Raven had about as much desire to be there as she did. She was merely a child. Was her execution to be Raven's initiation into the family business? Smart move on Zoran's part, she thought, looking at the girl standing by the door taking in the scene. He thought by using his younger sister, she would not see her as a threat. That she would be compliant. That she would let her guard down. Regina put her spoon down.

Her stomach refused to take any more and was quickly threatening to evacuate what was already there. You truly are a monster, Zoran, she thought. You cannot truly expect Raven to walk away from this, the same girl that walked in. She's a child, and today her innocence will be lost forever.

"Are you ready?" Raven asked meekly. Regina looked at her with sorrow, her eyes screaming at the child that she was so sorry that she was being asked to do this.

"Yes," Regina replied light-heartedly, trying not to let Zoran know she knew his intent. She stood up slowly and thanked Zoran for the small comforts. She walked toward Raven, who stood nervously by the door waiting for her.