OPHELIA: Chapter 22
Blurb
Elizabeth Lockwick wants one thing… to ensure Ophelia remains dead.
For years she’s weaved a life seen through rose-coloured glasses in idyllic Vermont with her husband Sebastian Lockwick, an alluring man with a broken moral compass, whose intent lies in protecting his wife. However, apart from her unorthodox understanding of Sebastian’s dark and gritty hidden nature, she finds herself slipping away from her sanity in maintaining this picturesque life.
After receiving a gruesome gift from an unknown sender threatening to expose her, she finds herself haunted and possibly hunted by her buried past.
In order to make things right for herself and ensure that her secret is hidden, she reluctantly travels back to her sleepy small hometown in Wisconsin. A town where young girls seem to be mysteriously disappearing. There, she reunites with the dysfunctional Pierre-Louis’, a French-American family who sheltered her in their manor in her time of need.
With time slipping away, she struggles with her guilt and a dangerous affair and realizes that perhaps Ophelia wasn’t dead after all these years.
Elizabeth suddenly finds herself caught in a game of cat and mouse, unsure of which she really is this time and who she can trust.
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Chapter 22
Sebastian slammed the mug of beer down on the table. He wasn’t drunk. He was angry. This pathetic little town he found himself in couldn’t even serve him the proper beer he asked for. He hated Rose Gap, and he hated it passionately. However, he was keen on this investment and he needed to make it happen. Or rather, how much was necessary.
The waitress returned to his table with his proper order as he checked the time. It was 6pm and saw the two individuals make their way through the door. The old man seemed to age like wine he noticed, it was an admirable sort of appearance he gave off. The younger next to him seemed around his own age and attracted stares and blushes from the women in the bar whom he walked past. That was a trait Sebastian himself loved. That attention amused him entirely. It made him feel untouchable and somewhat wickedly regal.
The old man extended his hand across the table towards Sebastian, “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long. Victor Pierre-Louis,” he introduced himself and subtly motioned to the man besides him, “This is my son.”
“Stefan Pierre-Louis,” he firmly extended an arm in a focused tone.
“Sebastian Lockwick,” he said with a subtle smile, shaking the hand.
They all sat as the waitress brought two more drinks to the table. Stefan frowned at the man before him but kept his composure and henceforth reacted professionally. “My father tells me you’re interested in becoming a silent partner to our Gap Hotel project, is that correct?”
“Truly. I’m willing to put out a generous sum we can both agree on.”
“Why?” Stefan asked, inquisitive and slightly concerned.
“With my company’s capital the job can be done in no time. And I do believe Rose Gap would be an intelligent decision to set up in. With my credentials, with your agreement of course, can surely put this little town on the map. It could turn into a tourist attraction to say the least. The people need a little something more.”
“My,” Victor gave a small laugh, “You speak as if this town is no stranger to you.”
Stefan leaned into his chair with folded arms and knitted eyebrows, observing the man before him. “You took my question out of context, Mr. Lockwick. Money isn’t a problem for us. We’re not interested in how fast we get this done. You’re a businessman, you should know quality, no matter how long it takes, essentially serves more beneficial in the long run. My question is why invest in a place like Rose Gap?”
Sebastian chuckled, “As your father rightly said, Rose Gap is closer to me than most know. I am no stranger to this town. Or rather, what’s in this town tend to hold more interest to me.”
This was news to Stefan. Had Ophelia known this? Why was he having such an odd feeling about the man. This surely was the same Sebastian she spoke of, was he not? Something wasn’t right here. “And what is that which holds so much of your interest here, Mr. Lockwick?”
“Mr. Pierre-Louis, you sure are suspecting, I admire that.” Sebastian smiled across the table. Victor sat silently soaking in the conversation before voicing his opinion.
“You never know who are your well wishes and who are your enemies.”
“Well keep me and my proposal on your side and we surely won’t be enemies.”
Victor smiled at Sebastian’s response. “Sharp young man, you are.”
Stefan looked at his father briefly as he spoke, “My father and I will make a decision soon and get back to you. I’d prefer to make a carefully calculated decision.”
“Understood.” He finished, delighted, as he watched the two men stand and leave.
As they did, Sebastian noticed Vivian who sat at the table to the side, observing their conversation with a cocktail in hand. She stood and made her way towards her brother with a taunting smirk.
“I suppose I should be thanking you, brother.”
“For?” He asked, annoyed with her presence.
“Finding Terilla and ensuring her return.”
“I didn’t do it for you nor your mother. I did it for myself. The last thing I want is a little girl dependent on me.”
She chuckled and sat before him, taking a sip of her drink, “Smart.”
“Why do you follow my every move?”
“You’re amusing, brother. Truly.”
Sebastian knew Vivian was a woman of strong will and her own persistent thinking, regardless of his disagreements or disinterests in her opinions, he learnt to respect what she was by ignoring and giving no importance to her. He drank the cold beer distastefully as he looked at her leaving the bar. His favourite sight of her, he always thought, away from him. After his second or third beer, he decided to head out. He was clearly not drunk enough to pay someone a visit. And oh, he wished he truly was but alcohol barely tainted him when he needed it to the most.
Leaving the bar, he walked through the nearby fair to get to the carpark where he left his car on the other end. The virgin night’s air licked him wetly as he walked along. The stars shone with an eager innocence to them and artificial coloured lights of the fair hovered and sparkled everywhere.
A middle-aged woman suddenly ran past him, hitting him on the shoulder as she did. Her black hair was a mess over her tear-stained face. A face plagued with worry and what seemed to be agony almost uneased him. She seemed confused, lost, or rather in search of something. He wasn’t the only one whose attention had fallen onto her. Many persons with whispering eyes stared at her. And who wouldn’t? She was wearing a robe to a family fair after all. Sebastian ignored the scene and walked away when he suddenly got a glimpse of her. He knew her face anyway. She was too beautiful to miss. That pale yet subtle rose kissed cheeks under the moonlight. Her eyes were searching for someone. Her long hair pulled into a messy bun as she wore soft casual clothing. Had he really missed seeing her face? Or had he gone soft? Surely not the latter.
Now wasn’t the time. He had to get to where he was heading to. He needed to get it over with. Getting into the car, he drove and drove, finding himself on an old dimly lit dirt road on the outskirts of Rose Gap. The car shook as it tasted every curve and holes on the road, leading to an old wooden house. Sebastian scowled as he slammed the car door shut. This place was a shack he thought to himself. The living condition, he noted, both outside and inside was terribly poor. Closing the moldy door behind him, his shoe stuck into a missing floorboard which was covered by a dusty old damp rug. The rug itself reeked a terrible stench as it moderately soaked from the water seeping through the hole of the ceiling.
Smoke puffed through the stale air from a nearby room. The sixty-two-year-old man lay flat on the damaged sofa, his body sticky and sweaty regardless of the fan which was turned on and facing him. His thin frail body highlighted his ribcage as he sucked in the air before him and exhaled a cloud of smoke, throwing the cigarette on the floor.
“Why did you call me here?” Sebastian frowned, displeased.
The man hadn’t turned to him, instead chuckled in a thick sick cough. With a dry grated voice, he replied in an amused smile, “You know why, boy.”
The sour stale air drifted between them as Sebastian sat on the decayed armchair.
“Don’t look at me like that,” the man scowled.
“Like what?”
“Like you pity me.”
“I do not. I’m disgusted to see you in your own filth, Joseph.” Sebastian scoffed. “Do you eat your own shit now or something?”
“Shut your fucking disrespectful mouth, boy. I got you where you are today. Your brother wouldn’t have spoken to me like that. He was a real son.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes, fed-up of his father’s drama. “Jame is dead. Don’t compare.”
Joseph sat upright and lit another cigarette, his eyes a bloodshot red, and hair uncombed and tangled. “Need I remind you why?”
“What do you want from me?” Sebastian asked straight to the point. The last thing he needed was his father’s sob story to gain money from him to squander on drugs and alcohol.
“To listen. To finish. Your word. You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Indeed,” Joseph chuckled, leaning back. “You’ve been diverted.”
**
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