Imagine running away to Europe with Matthew Brown.
You were waiting in the car, getting more nervous by the second. Matthew should have been out of the poolhouse by now. He should be coming out any second, and running to you, so you could both make your escape. You had the plane tickets ready, under fake names of course. Fake passports in the dashboard. As soon as he did this, as soon as he got rid of Hannibal, things were going to change in your life.
You could imagine it well. Walking down the streets of Paris, by the old buildings with their pretty shop fronts that could only be found there. Boulangeries. You had even learned the word for bakeries because you were excited about going in and getting a breakfast baguette and sharing it with your love while he was on a stakeout of someone he didn’t like and planned to take down.
Or Berlin. Bundling up for the cold winters, having to wear thick hats and socks to avoid shivering while walking down the street at night. Passing by all of the goth clubs and seeing the patrons in their teeny tiny latex wear, and thinking about buying Matthew a pair of those tight PVC pants.
Or Amsterdam. Riding bikes over the bridges, taking in the smells of the flowers that would be everywhere during the Summer. Smoking up in one of the many cafes to cool down after he got one of his victims. Wandering the Red Light District at night, getting lingerie ideas from the girls that actually wore something.
The sound of sirens caught your attention. You swore under your breath and ducked down to avoid being seen by the officers as they rushed in. But you trusted in your Matthew.
You trusted he would come out to you.
