Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"I hate your tattoos. You have weak wrists, but I'll keep you-'Cause it's something about her..." ♫ Mascara by Deftones.
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"William showed up about a year and a half ago," Cherry whispered, staring at the table as one singular tear slipped out of her eye and slowly rolled down her face, leaving a trail of black mascara, all the way down to her neck, "He claimed to a widow. Said his wife died many years back from ovarian cancer and that he was looking for a fresh start here in Chicago. It didn't take my mom long to fall, it was fast, and-they were married just six months later..."
"Okay, and did he say where he came from? Where does he work? What does he do? How the hell did you not know?-"
"Harlow. Don't." Niko clenched his jaw at me and I'd never seen a scowl ripped so hard on me in my entire life.
I sighed deeply and had to practically hold my hand over my mouth to keep it shut.
I wanted fucking answers. I needed them.
If William was the monster that took Bella then I was gonna charge over there and go fucking kill him so that I could find her. I didn't care about the consequences whatsoever.
And I could sympathize more than Cherry would ever know, with her situation, but this was so important.
Now wasn't the time to dilly dally.
For the first time in four years, I was closer than ever to finding Bella.
"Take your time, love. No rush." Zayn said, giving her a kind smile as he held a notepad on the table so he could write down anything important she said. We called him the second that Cherry ID'd her disgusting step-father.
So far we didn't have much.
"He said he was from a small city in New York and came down for 'work.' I don't know the name of the company but he says he's a lawyer at some firm downtown. Although knowing what he did to those women I doubt that's even the truth..." All passion and color drained from her face as she stared at the table still. She refused to look at anyone but was very fixed on the little grains of wood there as if they were so interesting.
"Does he have a tattoo by any chance?" I butted in nervously.
"No..." Cherry took a brief pause before shaking her head slowly, "no not that I've seen but, I don't talk to him all that much? My little brother Oliver is really scared of him and so am I. He has anger issues. Never physical but verbal for sure." She barely spoke, her eyelids blinking heavily as if she were tired.
I sighed and rubbed my face against my hands before running them through my hair and tugging on my roots to alleviate some pain. "Anything else? What do you know about him?"
Cherry shrugged uncomfortably, wiping her nose with a tissue, "I don't talk to him for a reason. I... I don't really know anything-and I don't understand what we're doing this for? I still don't get why I have to talk about it."
