a change is gonna come, oh yes it will.

MUNDUNGUS FLETCHERhe once prided himself on the lack of empathy he e x u d e d. swagger was EASY, when you were nothing more than a surface stain. he then found the warmth every real man riddles their stories with: PASSION. fletcher saw a world that needed changing, and was far too lazy to read the rule-book on how to do so. instead, he forged his OWN path, burning down every bridge built with blood money that he crossed. mundungus fletcher isn't looking for resolutions. he wants to eliminate the problem ENTIRELY; any way he has to.

[klaroline-secrets]

[jxffrey-woods-deactivated201502]

fill out with muse info.

[lorellecohle-blog]

name: lorelle cohle. nicknames: lor. gender: lady. age: 17 date of birth: june 21st. spoken languages: english, high school level spanish romantic preference: biromantic. sexual preference: bisexual. occupation: unemployed criminal record: n/a disorders: n/a eye color: blue/green hair color: brown. height: 5′3“. scars: no burns: none. overweight: no. underweight: no. color: pastel blue and yellow. food: cajun alfredo drink: lava flow or pina coolada smoothies from juice it up. candy: reese’s cups had sex: no. had sex in public: the closest was a hand up her skirt in the movie theater gotten pregnant: no. kissed a boy: yes. kissed a girl: no. gotten tattoos: no. gotten piercings: yes. smoked / drank / done drugs : no had a broken heart: not in the romantic sense been in love: no. needed surgery: no. stayed up for more than 24 hours: yes. a virgin: yes. a cuddler: yes a kisser: yes. scared easily: yes jealous easily: no. trustworthy: yes. single: depends on verse. in a relationship: depends on verse. considered mean: no. harmed themselves: no. thought of suicide: no. attempted suicide: no. wanted to kill someone: yes. have / had a job: no fears: drowning. siblings: none parents: katherine cohle; deceased. enzo cohle. other: n/a children: none. pet(s): she had a dog when she was little that enzo wasn’t fond of. after katherine passed, he didn’t see the reason for keeping it. after blowing its head off in a drunken rage, he had an employee clean up the bits. luckily lorelle never saw it, the longtime housemaid telling her that sparky went to heaven to be with her mom.

[jacnieves]

"Why would I do anything for you?"

Jacqueline could feel her teeth biting down hard on her lip, wanting to be rid of the pain in the back of her neck from all the stress and tension. Her temper was bound to let loose if the girl didn’t stop pestering her for answers as to why her, why this, why why why. Her fingers clenched into a fist before she felt her nails pierce into the soft flesh of her hand.

That pain caused Jac to look down and see the red marks that she’d left on herself.

They were none too familiar from similar marks that’d once adorned her body before Marc had made sure they’d never happen again. ‘You could take the girl from the neighborhood, but you couldn’t take the neighborhood from the girl,’ she scolded herself before letting her fingers drop and waited for the pain to subside.

"Go play ignorant girl, it’s what you’re good at."

[lorellecohle-blog]

“Screw you.”

Lorelle couldn’t even say f u c k.

She hated the concept of being naïve; yet continued to throw tantrums when she didn’t get her way. Lorelle was still a child, as much as she claimed otherwise. The girl begged for the truth; while knowing it would crush her as she received it. Jacqueline’s subtle answer had been enough—she wasn’t ready for honesty.

You can’t handle the truth, one infamous Jack Nicholson would scream at her.

Without closing, she rolled over—unable to fully escape the conversation she’d opened. It was her own fault—this was all her own fault. Conflicting thoughts of blame began to tumble in her head; switching between Jac and Marc, herself, and her father.

She lingered on the latter for the longest.

The three confined to this hotel just might be pieces to a game—placed away and put into action on command. Unfortunately, the one in control wasn’t calling the fuck back.

[jacnieves]

Jac snorted.

It wasn’t hard to see that she still thought of him as her father, that’s who he was, but to everyone else, he was the heartless bastard that made a killing on the backs of those beneath him. He’d screwed over one too many people that it wasn’t far fetched to imagine why they’d taken to kidnapping the one piece of the puzzle that wasn’t connected to all this.

Her.

Someone had made it a point not to make the two sides of his life converge until now. Jac should have felt some small sense of satisfaction in hearing the girl’s words in wanting to know the truth behind her ordeal but she didn’t. There was nothing.

"You won’t understand.”

"To you he is nothing more than daddy and you’re the apple in his eye. All I am is the bad guy here so why would you even listen to anything I have to say?" It would only be the truth because that was far scarier than anything she could have made up to scare the girl.

[lorellecohle-blog]

“Then make me—please.”

She held such determination in her voice as she begun; letting it slip as she closed with the desperate plea. Lorelle needed to understand why this was happening; even if the answer Jacqueline provided would cripple her. She had no idea what truths would unravel before her if she kept pestering; yet the girl wouldn’t stop until she got answers.

She would ask Marc next if need be;

                                                           but Lorelle knew who would provide the cutting truth. “Because right now, you’re the only one who will give an honest answer—even if you are doing it to spite me.”

[jacnieves]

Jac thought that was the end of her whining.

Maybe she’d cried herself to sleep again but she’d been wrong. Even the noise of the television hadn’t been enough to keep the other girl’s voice from reaching her ears. She gripped the chair’s arms and wanted out. It would be so easy to put a bullet between the girl’s eyes and call it a day. Tell Marc oops and that the gun slipped or some other excuse while they left this hole in the wall in their rear view mirror.

Except that he wouldn’t forgive her for that indegression.

The girl was their payday. She was the key to a life they’d been dreaming of for all their lives and much longer than the few days of loneliness the girl had to go through. She’d survive. It would only take her father buying her off again to forget her time with them, if she made it that long.

Jac threw her a flippant look over her shoulder before turning back to the television. It was silent for a few more minutes.

Almost as if she wasn’t going to answer at all.

"He was a bastard."

[lorellecohle-blog]

“He’s so different when he’s being my dad.”

Lorelle wanted to compare the opposing faces Enzo showed—Jac knew one, his daughter knew another. She wanted answers; a picture painted of the man that they loathed. The girl needed to understand why the pair wanted him dead; it would help her get through these days. If she could empathize with them, perhaps she could finally achieve a sound night of sleep.

She adjusted once more on the squeaky mattress-- the girl missed her own bed.

“Tell me. I want to understand.”

[jacnieves]

Jac kept her back to the girl, no longer wanting to see the fit that was being thrown or the fear that had been choking her up until now. This wasn’t a place for a kid. It wasn’t a place for any of them. If only her father had paid them what he owed them, none of them would be stuck in that shitty motel room and have to breathe the same air as one another.

Jac could remember all the plans that she’d made in her head, the ones that she’d only spoken out loud when she knew that he was asleep beside her. Even she was afraid that if she said them out loud to someone listening that they would fall through and everything would go to shit.

How right she’d been as she glanced over her shoulder with a throwaway gaze before turning back towards the television. It wasn’t the girl’s fault but she wasn’t as innocent as she liked to believe herself to think she was. That was what needed to be understood here until Marc came back and took over the babysitting duty.

It was starting to get under her skin and she didn’t like it.

With a slap against the box, Jac let her frustrations roll over her shoulders and pour out as she now tried to change the channel without the help of the remote. “You’d better,” she muttered under her breath, not caring if the girl heard her or not. If the girl didn’t leave, she’d turn into one of them. Or worse, end up dead. Something Jac was willing to do if push came to shove because if the choice was the girl or Marc for Jac, it would always be him.

[lorellecohle-blog]

Silence returned to the pair.

They never were crazy on conversation with one another; especially when Marc wasn’t in the room. His presence made it all easier; she felt safe when he was around. She’d never feel that way around Jac—it didn’t take a wild guess to figure that out.

Yet as time ticked on, the man had yet to return; and Lorelle was itching for communication. She’d tried to fall asleep to stifle the urge, but she only became restless- stirring every few minutes across the sweat drenched sheets.

Finally, she turned on her side to face Jacqueline—her lips pulled over her lips as she studied the girl. Lorelle was afraid to interrupt during her television show; waiting until commercial to pose her question.

“Hey, Jac?”

{…}

“What was he like before he robbed you guys?”

[lorellecohle-blog]

The first time she doesn’t wish Marc were dead.

Their initial meeting didn’tcount. Lorelle didn’t hate him then—she saw him as a hero. Fourteen, and cornered by one of Enzo’s men in her own kitchen. He was leering, she was terrified. His hands were beginning to roam, the stench of garlic overpowering as the man behind the vile tongue began to do the same. Marc had walked in on the scene; ending it abruptly by his presence alone.

She’d skittered off, eyes unable to meet his with shame.

The girl never knew how to thank him.

Her true moment post-kidnapping came eleven days after. The air conditioner had been on override in his car; freezing the skirt clad girl. She shivered in the backseat, arms curled around herself as she shivered her way to sleep. She ached, not having proper sleep since arrival.

A jacket was tossed in the back—startling her.

It was still warm; the scent of cigarettes and cheap aftershave embedded into the fibers. Lorelle had brought her knees as close to her chest as she could manage; curling into the fetal position in the backseat. She’d fallen into a deep sleep under the comfort of his jacket; his scent still caressing her nostrils days later.

                                          { Jacqueline’s came later. }

The trio had pulled over to grab food before they moved to their next location. They’d sat outside, sun burning their skin—the girl promising to not make a move, so long as she could get fresh air. One sat next to her, the other beside her- both with the promise of guns under the table.

As they ate, a cat slunk over to the table—appearing starved in the way its ribs jaunted out beneath ragged fur. Marc tried shooing it away; not wanting the feral thing within their vicinity. Lorelle watched it uneasily, waiting for it to pounce- claws in attack mode.

Jacqueline was different.

A smile inched forth—almost undetectable, similar to what she had when she was with him. The woman’s hand reached out apprehensively, wanting to pet the cat—waiting until she received the unspoken okay. The feline approached her, circling around her leg; its tail intertwining along her jeans.

The table had grown silent in awe of Jac’s moment; Lorelle watching her as if the fleeting bliss would only hold on for a moment longer.  It was the first time she’d seen humanity on her—something she now categorized as a good look.

Then it was gone.

Jacqueline caught the younger girl eyeing her; both girl’s postures stiffening and adjusting immediately. Lorelle’s gaze flicked back to her burger; trying to look interested in the melted cheese that was starting to harden with chill. Her adversary was human—and all Lorelle could wonder was when she’d see that light in her eyes again.

[lorellecohle-blog]

"If my answers frighten you, then you should cease asking scary questions."

She could hardly hear him over the wave of revelation that was crashing into her.

Lorelle was shaking her head before he could continue. He was lying; he had to be. There’s no way Marc could know what he was talking about; it happened twelve years ago. Her mother died twelve years ago. Enzo always swore to his daughter that they’d been coming after him that afternoon, and found the wrong person that day.

What Marc just told her contradicted that entire story.

Her jaw clenched in defiance, eyes flicking about the ash coated carpet—trying to find the answers somewhere. As if they’d be lying on the floor where he’d placed them; hiding the truth behind the coffee table, or something. “No—no, no. That’s not- it didn’t happen like that. He told me so.”

He didn’t miss a beat.

That he didn’t act on some other thug’s orders to pay up or pay the price? What, you think you’re the first princess he led to the gallows to save a buck? Aw, sweetheart- if he had anyone else, you probably wouldn’t be the last, either.

What he was saying made sense; that’s what terrified her the most. How did he even know this? Was he acting on presumptions? Was it common knowledge that everyone around Enzo was killed? It couldn’t have been; they wouldn’t have chosen this plan if they’d known it hadn’t worked in the past. Unless it had been too unbelievable for them, too. Her arms wrapped instinctively around herself; protection from the blow that was sure to come from his next answer. Doe eyes hung on him; lips curling in momentarily before she questioned,

“I’m not going to live through this, am I?”

[jacnieves]

Jac sneered again.

Another plea for recompense. It wasn’t her fault. She was an innocent. She didn’t have the money. It was all the same things, put on repeat, but they’d been the ones that’d driven her over the edge as she gave the girl once last look before turning back away towards the television. Even it’s incessant noise was preferable to the girl’s.

"If I could, I would."

She didn’t have time to waste of a pathetic excuse for a ransom, one that wanted to live in her fairy tale world where her father could do no wrong as long as he could buy his way back into her good graces. How much money would it take to fix this? How many presents would she rack up by playing victim long enough to the man that couldn’t even pick up a phone and save her miserable life.

Jac felt sick to her stomach, straightening up as she stared at the collapsed form of the girl that’d broken beneath the weight of her words. Ones that she’d been feeling for hours, building until she couldn’t keep them to herself anymore.

Her anger was misplaced, falling on the ears of a girl that had chosen to be ignorant, to simper away when things went bad, and always came back to her father at the end of the day. It was a familiar sensation of a girl she knew a long time ago, one that would have done the same thing until she couldn’t take it anymore. Until Marc had saved her. He’d been the key to fixing all her problems but not this time. Not with this one.

Not again.

"When you go back," she started to say, thinking the girl wouldn’t hear her over the simpering cries that she was most likely burying in her pillow and the blanket she’d taken as a shield. "What are you going to do?"

[lorellecohle-blog]

She said nothing.

As if the silent treatment was a way to take revenge, and not actually please Jacqueline. Hadn’t it been what she’d wanted all along? Now the youngest Cohle was granting her wish; even if she was a few days behind on the request. She wouldn’t utter a word; refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing that Lorelle continued to dream of a life after she left this situation. It showed she still had hope; too much faith placed into the wrong things.

Praying to a deaf god would have been more affective.

She could picture fresh sun blazing against her cheeks, no chains constricting her. The wind would catch her hair, tossing it about into a mess of tangles. A field of nameless flowers could be seen, surrounding a vacant field that the girl could lay in. She was alone— she was free. Lorelle didn’t know what she was going to do, but she knew how it was going to feel.

“I’m leaving.”

To a place where no one could touch her.

[jacnieves]

Calm radiated throughout Jac’s body, a stark juxtaposition to how she felt beneath the surface as she picked herself up from where she’d been crouching. Not looking at the girl still on the bed or the gun in her belt, itching to finish the job they’d started earlier - with better results than they were having.

The phone stayed silent, the tv was permanently stuck on that channel, and the girl still didn’t know what to shut her mouth. The whiny voice, the one that followed Jac no matter where she went until they were able to get rid of her once and for all, it was still there. Still speaking.

"Nothing at all. Ignore it. Do what you’ve done so well as she live off the profits of his actions and tell yourself that it’s better this way. If you don’t think about it, then it doesn’t exist, right? If you don’t think about us, we don’t exist."

It was a simple way to live of other’s misfortunes but daddy’s girl didn’t like have to deal with it. Poor baby. “Too bad he wasn’t able to whisk you away with promises of keeping you safe this time. Such a shame he wasn’t quick enough to save you before the villains snatched you up. What a pity it’ll be when you don’t make it back there in one piece.” Another threat on the girl’s life, one that Jac was becoming increasingly more eager to see through even if she was their only line to getting paid.

Her voice was a low growl, coming back towards the bed where the girl sat perched, moments away from hiding beneath the covers as the boogeyman came out to play. “Have you asked yourself the burning question that I know you’ve been wanting to ask? Why hasn’t he called? Why didn’t he send me away before they could get me? Why is this happening to poor, little me? I’m nothing but an innocent bystander. I don’t have your money.” She sneered as she moved closer. “Have you, yet? I bet I can guess the answers too. The ones you probably would like to ignore as much as where all your money comes from that he gives you.”

[lorellecohle-blog]

Everyone was the hero of their own stories—including Jacqueline and Marc.

Enzo was their villain, the man who must be destroyed for their tale to roll to a close. Lorelle was nothing more than means to an end; something standing in their way. How long would it be before they kicked their hassle over?

                  Hours?

                           Days?

It wouldn’t last longer than a week, she was sure. Tick tock, went her little clock—time was running out for her. As Jac neared, Lorelle could feel her heart picking up pace; thumping along harmoniously to the horror show she was living.  She was growing dizzy; the other woman’s words holding too much weight to support on the girl’s shoulders. The ground was going to give out beneath her, the bed enveloping her and suffocating her—hopefully before those menacing sentences could.

She repeated the words a beat after Jac uttered them, trying to convince herself more than the other woman. “I am innocent; I don’t have your money.” They barely came out as a mumble, hardly audible over the rant Jacqueline had set herself on. Nearing towards her as the words were about to hit their climax—going in for the kill.

Lorelle broke.

She couldn’t hold her glare up anymore; it had entirely diminished under the brute force. The girl was done; rolling over onto the bed as she slumped into defeat. The outside heat scorched through poorly insulated walls; already providing a thin sheen of sweat to cover exposed skin. Yet even as sweat rolled down her temple, she grabbed the corner of the blanket- yanking it over her shoulder in protection. She could shield herself from the words being shoved down her throat. She may have to hear them, but she didn’t need to l i s t e n.

“Just leave me alone.”

[jacnieves]

Jac didn’t even flinch when the remote e x p l o d e d on the wall beside her head. She wasn’t a stranger to violence. Not when it was directed towards her or around her, remembering the years she’d spent trapped in a home that was nothing but screams and anger, it flashed before her eyes as she felt it course through her body.

This time it was her fault.

Because of the girl on the bed, the one that begged and pleaded to be freed by flashing her doe eyes at Marc and hid the truth behind a veil of thin lies for Jac to tear apart until the truth made more sense than anything else. Instead of being the victim, she was a knowing part of all this as Jac’s eyes took in the damage that’d already been done on both their parts.

Instead of lashing out, she pushed herself out of the chair, and calmly moved over to the mess, picking up the pieces until they were in a nice, neat pile on the table. While she cleaned, she spoke without looking over her shoulder at the teenage girl. “There’s a saying,” she started, her words barely above a low growl in the base of her throat while she worked. “The only thing needed for evil to trumph is that good men do nothing.”

They weren’t good men but neither was she, there was no such thing as an innocent. “Try to remember that the next time he sends you away. If he sends you away.”

[lorellecohle-blog]

The calm was more terrifying than the storm.

She didn’t know when the next bolt of lightning would crack; lash out against her cheek—likely in the form of a fist. She instantly regretted throwing the remote at her; possibly regretting more that it didn’t connect with her forehead. At least then an ounce of credibility could be had.

As of now she was nothing more than a whiny teenager—pleading to just go home. She wouldn’t make it if she kept up an attitude. She needed to comply; be a good little hostage. She was going to need a plan, though. Worry increased as her father didn’t jump in to rescue her.

She’d have to save herself—even if she didn’t know how.

“What was I supposed to do?” The words sounded so weak in comparison to the yell she’d lifted into moments before. Lorelle was open for suggestions—it wasn’t as if there was a Chicken for the Soul book to look to for guidance on the situation. She was a kid; a child thrown into a dark world. The threat of death was always hanging over her; Katherine’s lifeless face a constant in each moment of fear.

She adjusted herself on the bed, losing whatever comfort she’d had before as she watched Jac- waiting for her to strike. Brutality was to be expected now; she didn’t know how to proceed through the silence. Lorelle offered the only alternative she could think of. “Should we try calling my dad, again? Maybe I can talk to him.” Try to convince him to hurry the fuck up.

[jacnieves]

The girl’s admission should have shocked her, left her wondering how much the spoiled brat actually knew but it didn’t. She’d known from the first moment she’d laid eyes on the girl that she was nothing more than a snake with a sweet face, one that she could see Marc falling for as anger flooded her chest and set her on fire at the mere thought.

But her voice was calm, resting in the chair as she crossed her legs and let her grip tighten on the chair’s arms.

"So little Miss Innocent isn’t so i n n o c e n t."

She knew about daddy’s dealings and still thought to defend him to the people that he’d worked with and screwed out of their take. This wasn’t the first time, something she’d guessed, but didn’t want to admit it to herself let alone Marc who thought he’d been someone worth a damn to get them enough money to start their lives out of this hellhole.

Now it’d all but been confirmed out of the mouths of babes, her gaze lifting from the television set to glance at the pathetic mess of a girl on the bed, the one that’d never made it this far but wasn’t completely unaware of why she was even there. “And why do you think he didn’t even take the time to pack you away this time? Maybe it was too much hassle when he had money to take care of instead.” She snorted with a twisted smirk that was as cold as her eyes, not believing the girl’s act anymore. “Sucks to be you then.”

[lorellecohle-blog]

Sucks to be you then.

It did suck to be her. She was a teen girl, stripped from her home—not knowing if she’d live to see tomorrow’s sun. Jacqueline could decide she’d disposed of her last ounce of patience- emptying her clip in Lorelle’s head before Marc returned to stop her. The words continued to reiterate themselves in her head, a gnawing disease penetrating its way into her core. Lorelle couldn’t stand to hear her voice anymore, wanting nothing more than for her to simply s t o p.

With the taunting, the seductive threats—she needed silence, something the girl rarely craved. She continued to wring her hands against the remote, staring at it as her jaw locked on itself—incriminating words refusing to come out. Lorelle wouldn’t dare look at Jacqueline; she didn’t have the strength to look her enemies in the eye. Not like father, at least.

The words came out through clenched teeth, fury constraining her poorly as she spoke. “Will you just please stop?!” As the plea rang out, she threw the remote- it splintering against the wall as it whooshed past the target. Lorelle had aimed at Jacqueline’s head—she’d reached nowhere near it.

Shit.

[jacnieves]

Jac snorted. The girl’s ideals would be the death of her if she came to realize that the world wasn’t as good versus evil as it might have looked to those that never stepped foot into a harsher park of the world.

"Wait - so you’d rather all that money go to the people it belonged to in the first place? But then dear ol’ daddy wouldn’t have any money and neither would his only daughter. Life wouldn’t be so easy then if you didn’t have all that money that didn’t belong to you either."

But that was beyond the point, her own temper flared with anger at both the man that wouldn’t call and the man that wasn’t there, his plan was to keep the girl only for a few hours, a day at the most, before they were returning to the life they’d planned out for the two of them.

"That’s the question of the hour, isn’t it? Why would he wait this long unless he doesn’t get a shit about his o n l y daughter. Unless he cared about that money more than he cared about her and was just waiting out the clock until it was too late before he could play the part of grieving father."

She rolled her eyes then, not even pretending to care that her words might have struck a chord with the younger girl, not when she was beyond reaching and the only sound that continued to bother her was the girl’s ramblings about a father that was sure to come and rescue her. That didn’t happen. Not to people like them but the girl believed she was above the rest of them. “But who knows,” she replied before dropping back into the chair, legs out before her as her eyes bore holes through the door and waited for Marc to return so she wouldn’t have to speak to this kid anymore. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s not the scumbag that everyone knows him to be and he’ll pay.”

[lorellecohle-blog]

Guilt pricked her before she could continue.

Even she couldn’t deny she had a lifestyle that exceeded the majority of her friends. She lived the teenage d r e a m; money being the sole reason for this. Money her father stole—just as Jac taunted. She was right, and Lorelle despised her for it. Ignorance was such an easier pill to swallow; justification keeping her safe from horrific thoughts each night.

----But now she was being forced to face such ugly facts.

As the woman carried on, Lorelle mumbled the occasional, “Stop it.” Her words hung low, barely audible—if they were, Jacqueline clearly didn’t give a damn. She clung to the remote previously tossed at her, wringing it dry; feeble hands curling around it in desperation. She couldn’t look up, her jaw tightening in frustration.

“It’s not like you’re the first person he’s done this to.”

She hated the way the confession weighed on her tongue; hated even more that she continued to entertain the woman opposite of her. She continued to fumble with the remote- placing it down, picking it up, twisting and tossing it between her hands. Using it for everything besides changing the channel. “He usually just packed me up and sent me off to a relative before his enemies involved me.”

[jacnieves]

"Of course he has the funds on hand," she hissed through her teeth, picking a fight with a teenager that didn’t know any better. Her head was filled with fairy tales about her father and her own life, not knowing the trouble that he got into with their help. Or the trouble she was in now just by having the same name as the man that’d stolen their money. "Because he has our money.”

They stole it. A portion of it belonged to them, enough to retire from this Bonnie and Clyde lifestyle that was only supposed to be a means to an end, not turn into a babysitting trip with the princess in tow that was pouting because she didn’t have a pedestal to sit on.

"It’s obvious that he would rather hold onto it rather than free you immediately after learning of what happened to you. Why wait? Why cut it close as time ticks away? Are you watching the clock because I know I am and every second that passes.. well,” she leaned back over to the chair she’d been sitting in to grab the remote that’d fallen off the table, exposing the gun that was tucked into the back of her jeans that was only there as a precaution.

Or so the girl would think until time ran out and there was still no money in sight.

"We all know what happens to the kidnapped when their ransom isn’t paid," she straightened up again, but not before tossing the remote to the kid. "Soon he won’t have anything but his money if he keeps us waiting too long."

[lorellecohle-blog]

“Our money, our money—if you guys stole it, why do you even think it’s yours?” Her voice rose, in spite of the fear that inflamed through Jacqueline’s raised temper. The words had h i s s e d from her—giving her the further appearance of the serpent that Lorelle envisioned her as. Slinking around, slender body full of venom- it fit. “It’s not yours, or Marcs—or even my dad’s. It belongs to whoever you stole it from.” She imagined wholesome people being thrown out on the street—penniless, as each of the villains in this story ran off to a beach with no extradition.

E V I L.

Of course she looked at the clock; the neon numbers sitting right above the tv were a hideous reminder—time ticking on, as her time was running out. She didn’t need to tell Jac that, though. Maybe if she acted confident in her father, it would keep her alive—or at least from breaking into hysterics. She had to try.

Her eyes were focused on the gun, hands clenching around the remote as she stared. One second and all of this could be over—a bullet right between tear stained cheeks; not even a wanted poster to remember her by. All she watched at night was the news; hoping she’d eventually see her inconsolable father pleading for them to just bring her home. She knew it was a pipe dream. She repeated herself again, trying to boost her own morale—not trying to convince the opposing woman. “He’s just getting it all together. Why else would he wait this long?” The question was less rhetorical than she’d ever care to admit.

[danielle-campbellsource]

[jacnieves]

Regret could have been something that would have stilled the rest of Jac’s fury towards the situation but the girl was i n s o l e n t and had been since the first night that he’d brought them both there.

She was nothing more than a means to an end but that end continued to stretch out further before them with no hope of coming to a close anytime soon, not as long as the phone stayed silent. Jac couldn’t take the silence or her incessant need to fill it with rambling words of apologies and half hearted attempts to wound Jac’s pride at being stuck there with her.

Jac stepped from the chair, crossing the room until there was nothing left between them but the words that’d already been thrown out with no hope of turning back now. A snide look on her face, Jac could only see a spoiled brat that was waited, hand and foot on by people that she probably didn’t a thing about except that when they messed it, it was on them.

All that money and not a single phone call.

Their money. Their problem. She was supposed to be the solution, not a bigger problem than they’d had the other day with empty pockets and no hope in getting what they were owed.

"Then why hasn’t he yet? He knows what we’re capable of and what will happen when he doesn’t pay, so why hasn’t he called? He could afford it. It’s not like we’re robbing his biggest piggy back, just the one with his daughter’s face on it."

Her finger trailed along the girl’s trembling chin for a moment before she pulled back with a broken smile.

"It’s his fault that you’re the best plan that we could come up with and judging by the silence on the other end of the phone, it obviously wasn’t the right one to get into daddy’s checkbook.. or his heart.”

[lorellecohle-blog]

She’d spent hours each night justifying her father’s actions. Why he hadn’t called—she’d constructed a long list. She let its length encompass her; letting it circle around her doubts and shield them from hurting her. It was working for now—but her captor’s reality check wasn’t helping at all.

She was turning defiant—letting her childish ways come to life. “I said he’ll call—he’s just lining up the money. He doesn’t just have cash lying around—there’s a thing called assets, you know.” She in fact, did not know. Lorelle held a constant ear to her father’s closed office doors, but she was only ever in tune with one side of the conversations. The girl only held knowledge of where the emergency funds were—none of which could amount to what they were asking for.

Her fate was not hers to decide for now—her life lying in the hands of those around her. She hated it. The woman caressing her jaw only reminded her of such, chills crawling up her spine as the delicate touch ran over her. She couldn’t stand the strength that oozed from Jacqueline; eyes flicking away so she wouldn’t get sucked in. Lorelle was silenced; all nerves gravitating towards the finger upon her. As she was released, fire stung her cheeks—ashamed by the fact that a villainous touch could have such a damning effect on her.

Her mouth was dry; inducing a rough swallow before she continued. “He’ll call—I’m all he has left.” Even as the trembling voice came to surface, she couldn’t help but wonder how much faster this would have gone if it was her mother’s life on the line.

[jacnieves]

Her fingers stopped their tapping at the girl’s apology, anger coloring her features as she turned from the lone source of entertainment in the room that proved to be a fruitless distraction. There was no ignoring the elephant in the room, especially when she walked around acting like she were the victim. That none of this was her fault.

It might have been all her fault, but some part of Jac still wanted to see her pay for the situtation they were all in. It wasn’t fair, sure, but that didn’t changed anything. The world wasn’t fucking fair.

They shouldn’t have been there, stuck in a cheap motel, waiting for money that was never going to come but Marc couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t see it. He didn’t know what it felt like to not be wanted or regarded with any sense of worth. He never had that. While Jac’s own family life wasn’t ideal, she wouldn’t have survived without him while he would have been fine without Jac bringing him down with her own problems.

The same could have been said about the girl apologizing.

"You’re sorry. Of course you’re sorry. We’re stuck here because of you. We’re not long gone with our money because of you.. but you’re sorry, so that obviously makes everything better,” she snapped out, realizing as she spoke how unfair it was to put it on the girl’s shoulders, but she was long from caring. Her nerves had been shot, overworked by constantly looking over her shoulder and waiting for a phone call that wasn’t about to come anytime soon.

She was expendable to more people than Jac.

[lorellecohle-blog]

A wave of nausea hit as Jac’s words came crashing into her.

“I wasn’t trying…” The explanation died out over the woman’s protest; silence overtaking her as Jacqueline stampeded forth. Her chest began to rise and fall; the attack simply wasn’t stopping. The other woman hinted at questions Lorelle had been asking herself for days. Why was she still here? The couple had made it apparent they would release her once her father paid—and she knew he had the money. Her gaze wouldn’t meet the opposition; merely focusing on the ragged blanket she sat upon. Her teeth clenched as she felt tears coming forth; deep seated will forcing them away.

Don’t you dare cry.

She brought her hand to her forearm, nails digging in to protest the sorrow that was beginning to suffocate. Lorelle drug them against porcelain flesh; trying to focus on the physical pain versus the alternative. “He’s going to call.” Denial—clear through each syllable. Anger burned on her tongue; claws digging deeper into her arm as it intensified. She looked up at her attacker at last, holding the appearance of a wounded animal as she tried to keep her voice strong. “You’re stuck here because you kidnapped me. It’s not my fault….” Her strength was dying out once again, the venom in Jac’s eyes draining her. Mustering was little stamina she had left, she added, “It’s not my fault that this is the best plan you two could come up with.”