OPHELIA: Chapter 52
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 52
Both Charlie and Stefan’s phones were out of service. Frustration was seeping out of her like a saturated sponge. Her keys slipped out of her hand as she was trying to start the car. God knows what would happen if she waited any longer. With a deep breath and the start of the engine, she drove.
The estate was large and pretty soon as she entered through the tall gates of the private area she felt like she wasn’t in Rose Gap anymore. Her hands were cold as she turned into the hotel’s carpark. From a distance, she could see where the former facility home used to be, now turned into a recreational club. A sick feeling pitted in her stomach like a bad egg split open. She kept the gun firmly at her waist and under her shirt as she walked towards the receptionist. It was quite a lonely hotel. For the matter, the entire area had barely been polluted with anyone. Those she saw seemed quite foreign to her.
“Hello, I’m looking for a Mr. Sebastian Lockwick. Which room is he in?” She asked the woman behind the counter firmly.
The woman looked at her and hesitated before speaking. She seemed almost suspicious, and Ophelia knew she had every right to be by the way she probably looked before her. “My name’s Elizabeth Lockwick,” Ophelia quickly said and pulled out her former ID card before the woman could refuse her, “I’m his wife.”
“Oh!” The woman said almost apologetically while looking at the computer screen before her, “Here you are Madam, he’s in room 119, 3rd floor. You can use the nearest elevator on the right.”
“Thank you,” she said to the young woman and headed just there.
Her heartbeat drummed at every second she took towards the room. There it was before her. Room 119. She was about to knock after a deep breath but noticed that the door was left slightly ajar. It was a bad habit of his, she remembered. As she entered, she noticed that the apartment was dimly lit and the smell of bourbon laced through the spaced. The bedroom door was open to show an empty room as well as washroom. She entered and kicked the red lacey women’s underwear at the side. Clearly, he had been keeping himself busy.
A soft chuckle caught her attention from behind. Sebastian leaned at the edge of the doorway with a curious smile, “My little dove, you keep fluttering everywhere.”
“Sebastian,” she frowned. Looking at the man before her, she felt a strong pain string through her body. His betrayal wounded her. She was nothing but a pawn to him.
“I missed you.”
“You’re a liar. You’ve always been.”
“That’s a bit hypocritical to say, isn’t it, love?” He scoffed.
A sudden wash of sadness drenched over her. “I trusted you, I considered you to be a friend in the very least. But you- it was all part of the plan, wasn’t it?”
His footsteps stalked towards her. She wasn’t afraid of him, not then, not now. He stood inches away, towering before her.
“My smart, brave little Elizabeth,” he chuckled tilting her chin towards him, “How stupid and naïve you actually were.”
She was disgusted by his touch. “Ophelia,” she spat, “My name is Ophelia. Remember that.”
Ophelia was about to reach for the gun at her waist when suddenly he pushed her back onto the bed and pinned her down. His rough hands travelled along her stomach and pulled out the gun, throwing it across the room. She tried to kick him off of her but he was too heavy.
“Well Ophelia,” he mocked at her name as she struggled beneath him, you can tell me something about yourself and maybe we can actually be friends.”
“Your brother,” she hissed and kicked him between legs, “Raped me.”
She bolted towards the gun at the floor as he released his grip on her. Sebastian grabbed her by the leg. She fell, hitting the floorboard. His hold was firm and angry. She clawed her way forward as he pulled her back. Before he could have fully pulled her back, she rolled over and swung her foot against his face. He staggered back as she ran towards the gun. Suddenly, she felt a heavy force from behind, push her into the washroom. Sebastian hovered over her as her head hit the cold tile. His hands wrapped around her neck. In a swift moment, she clawed at his face causing him to release. She steadied herself up when suddenly he pushed her into the bathtub. Watered gushed and overflowed everywhere as he attempted to strangle her in there. His hands were firm around her neck as she tried to kick and gasp air when she could.
“Stop fighting,” he growled, certainly upset.
“No,” she gasped whilst struggling and throwing her hands everywhere, “I’ll never. I won’t stop. I won’t until- until I find her. I’m not running anymore.”
Sebastian looked at the girl before him and a deep frown edged into his soul. He knew her mentality was going to get her killed either way. He released his hold from her and leaned at the opposite end of the tub, observing her. She didn’t run. She didn’t attempt to go for the gun. Instead, she took soft breaths and steadied herself in a sitting position above the water and against the tub.
“Just tell me where she is,” she suddenly said and raised her eyes slowly to meet his, “Please, Sebastian.”
There was a sudden tone to her voice that he hadn’t expected. There was a sudden innocence swarming around the girl before him. A faint hopefulness. He hadn’t known who she truly was. She never asked him for anything all these years together. She hadn’t looked so… broken. She never displayed this side of herself to him. The girl before him was someone else. She was tired, she was hurt, she was at her breaking point. She was the real Elizabeth. He wasn’t sure how that made him feel. He felt suddenly perplexed about himself and what he thought he knew.
With a soft silent sigh, he stood. The water rolled off his clothing and clung onto it, kissing the outline of his chest. She hadn’t looked up as he did this. Her gaze remained to the emptiness before her, just where he had been. A loneliness which was no stranger to her. Sebastian walked over to where the gun had been and back to her. He knelt to the side of the tub where she had been. There was a sudden click as he checked the gun. She felt nothing, her body and soul felt numb. Perhaps, she thought she could die at this very moment and find a somewhat of a contentment in that. She was sure he was about to kill her.
Instead, he held the gun before her. His voice was icy and stern. “Here,” he said, curious to see what she would have done.
His words stunned through her as she turned to look at him. A single tear escaped, hidden in the water which stapled to the tender redness of her face. Her initial plan was to only to threaten him in order to find the girl’s whereabouts but looking at him she couldn’t. She couldn’t dare point this gun at him anymore. Besides being exhausted, there was this ache within her that prevented her from doing so. The little bit of respect and friendship that she had for him, she wanted to keep that. She wanted to pretend at least that something between them was real.
Ophelia took a soft, shaky sigh and placed her hand over the gun. His fingers caressed the tenderness of hers just for a moment before she stood. A sudden pain from her previous movements shot through her body. She steadied herself with the wall and limped towards the door.
“Ophelia,” he called to her. It was the very first time he had said her name, her real name. She didn’t want to stop but she did. His voice was soft and, in a whisper, almost. There was a certain sort of conflict within it, a concern. “Don’t go there,” he said, a soft warning sort of plead. “It’s a trap.”
She turned to see him standing against the wall, his expression exactly as she imagined her Sebastian used to wear.
“I have to try,” she replied softly.
**
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