The Mafia's Muse

5. The Vaughn's

EUTERPE:

"Grab your stuff and then we can leave." Moore said opening the door.

I sighed walking in the house and looked around slowly, I guess this was it.

"Is that blood?" Moore asked behind me.

I turned and looked to see him pointing at the floor and shrugged before leaving the room. As I walked into my room I went straight for the bathroom before shutting the door. My feet moved quickly and I stood in front of my mirror looking at myself.

Nolan was dead...

The man who I thought would be my protector but was really my nightmare.

I washed my face and grabbed the little makeup I had trying to cover my busted up face. I hated wearing makeup but it was a necessity in my life. If I wanted to go out I had to wear makeup or make sure no one would see my face.

After what felt like hours I got my face to look somewhat natural. My black eye just looks more like eye bags so I didn't really care about covering that up too much. I grabbed all the stuff I needed before I started packing my actual clothes. At least I won't be questioned about wearing hoods all the time, it's the UK so no one can say anything. I went to my desk and took out the letter that's been waiting to be delivered for almost six years.

As I said, I had a message to deliver and then one more thing before I can leave. I'm sure it won't take long to complete either. I'll be out of there before the week is over.

"Euterpe we have to leave! Are you finished?" Moore yelled.

I sighed grabbing my suitcase and carry on bag before slowly walking down the stairs. Was this really happening? Was it maybe just a dream?

"I'll carry it. Let's go." Moore grabbed my suitcase and walked out.

I bit my lip before stepping out the door and felt a little freedom, something I never had. My hand slowly closed the door and I released a breath walking to the car.

Goodbye Northern Ireland, goodbye Nolan.

—

"Don't look at me like that." Moore rolled his eyes.

I glared at him darkly, how the fuck could he do this... he can't do this.

We were standing in the airport after our almost two hours flight. My problem was that he had me cuffed, cuffed! Everyone keeps staring at me like I was a fugitive or something.

"I don't trust you kid. If you make a run for it I can't exactly go after you." He explained carrying our stuff.

I walked next to him with a scowl, I should just run away so he can have problems with work. As we went outside he flagged down a taxi before pushing me in the back. The driver looked extremely worried and terrified as he glanced at my stone-cold face.