Janey's Story

She knew he didn't want to talk about it but she still pressed on.

"So, what did you used to be?"

"A barista," he lied and it was obvious. He wore a sheepish grin that made him seem less scary. Not that he was already, it was obvious Stephen was the nicer one of the two, but his scar and past still made Janey sceptic.

"A barista, huh?" She let the words linger on her lips before tilting her head at him. "Nightshift?"

He nodded, proud at his lie.

"I'm like an owl. Tired during the day, wide awake at night. I was the best at my job."

"Then why did you leave?"

He froze. Clearly he hadn't though of that.

"Um... Well, what happened was... I... Something happened."

She cocked her eyebrow.

"What?"

He searched her eyes for something Janey couldn't quite tell but judging from the way he sighed and combed through his chopped hair with his stubby fingers, she knew whatever he was looking for, wasn't there.

"Alright, you got me. I was never a barista."

Janey knew he would crack easily, by this was unexpected. He gave in within less than a dozen minutes. She had interrogated many people and no one has given in that quickly. For a prisoner - and especially, one of Harrison's men - he was incredibly weak. This fact alone was enough to terrify her. Maybe she was walking into a trap. Maybe he was the bait.

His next line further pushed her buttons.

"I was a prisoner. In Belgium."

Janey didn't even need to act shocked. She was utterly dumbfounded. Did he really just confess? That easily?

"W-what?" She stammered.

"But I swear it wasn't my fault. I was framed." He halted for a moment, his eyes suddenly looking off in the distance as if someone was there. "I didn't do it. I didn't. I didn't touch him. I didn't kill her. I didn't."

He slammed his hands over his ears and turned his head to the ground muttering 'I didn't do it'. Janey wasn't quite sure want to do to start with, leaving her just staring at Stephen but when she heard footsteps getting close, she finally acted.

Placing her hands on his shoulders, she forced his gaze to meet hers. His eyelashes had leftover tears and his cheeks were lined with tears.

"Calm down," her voice was stern yet laced with evident concern and worry. "I don't know who you're talking about but I believe you. You didn't kill her."

He shook his head.

"I was drunk. I don't remember a thing... I just... I convince myself I didn't to make me feel better." He coughed out a bitter laugh. "Doesn't help very much."

Janey wasn't quite sure what to say after that. So she said nothing. And it seemed, from the silence on the other side of her earpiece, no one else was sure either.

Was it a trap? Was he that gullible? Was he lying? Was he telling the truth?

Suddenly, over the earpiece, Janey heard a shout.

"Out of there," Cassidy's voice rang in her ear. "A car is approaching. Out of there. Get out-"

It was too late.

The car cruised down the street faster than expected. Even Cassidy was shocked at the speed. When it got to the bookshop, it screeched to a stop.

"Oh dear," Kyla mumbled. "This can't be good."

And sure enough, it wasn't. When the bell on the door rang, all Janey could hear was heavy footsteps. A man trudging towards Iris.

"Any customers?"

It was deep and raspy in all the wrong ways. His voice seemed to scratch at his windpipe as it was forced out and between words, what Janey suspected was his breathing, was the most awful screeching sound you could think of. She imagined the air as a stone while his throat was sandpaper, scratching away at it with each breathe.

She knew exactly who it was. No one could mistake the awful presence of the Society's worst enemy: Harrison.

Stephen immediately turned to her and mouthed one word: hide.

Janey scanned the area. Where do you even hide in a library? It's not like you can blend into the books.

She could ran through the labyrinth of bookshelves, yes, but the floor beds creaked. Harrison would easily find her.

"Possibly. Not quite sure though," Iris lied. For a prisoner, he sucked at lying.

Janey wondered what on earth made him recruit these two nimrods. Maybe that's why they were the ones babysitting the shop.

The next thing she heard was a squeaking noise. Not the type you'd hear from one of those dog toys but instead the sound of a human suddenly losing their supply of oxygen.

Harrison was strangling him.

Janey would be lying if she claimed she had never once imagined him as Darth Vader. They both emitted the same ambiance and were equal in terms of power.

"Don't lie to me, maggot. Where's the other one? Abby. That's his name, right?"

"Yes, Abby, sir. Stephen Abby. He went out to get us all coffee," he wheezed

"Coffee, huh? Such a shame I hate coffee."

Then there was a thump followed by Iris panting heavily.

"Where's the customer? Male or Female?"

"I have no idea what you might be on about. There's no customer in right now."

"Iris," Harrison breathed out. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"No, sir. You're the smartest of all."

"Then why do you act like it? Do I look easily outsmarted?"

"No, sir. You aren't outsmarted. You outsmart all."

"Oh, would you shut up. If I needed a compliment, you'd be the last person on Earth, I'd ask. Even that moron  Nicholas would be above you and Abby. Now where is the customer?"

Iris gave up.

"Ancient Egyptian section."

"Janey, get out of there. Get out of there!" Cassidy yelled.

She wanted to yell 'if I could, don't you think I would have by now?' but Harrison was heading towards her now. There was no turning back.

As soon as she saw him, she wanted to gag.

Don't get me wrong, Harrison wasn't an unpleasant sight. But he was her family's killer.

He had long brown hair and a short, ginger beard. His grey eyes were piercing but warm and inviting at the same time. Harrison was an amazing sight. Can't say the same about his personality.

"Hello, I'm Mr Hayes, " he smiled, displaying his perfect alignment of pearly teeth. His voice was no longer cold, it was warm and toasty like a fire on a winter's morning.

But Janey knew better.

"Hello. I'm Diane Dove," she stammered out like the terrified lady she portrayed. She had to try her very best to keep her gaze terrified rather than shifting to the true anger she felt. How could he possibly consider a false introduction after killing her parents and beloved older brother?

"Diane Dove," he gently took her hand and kissed it. "What a lovely name."

Janey wanted to throw up, slice off her hand burn it then kick him in the area where the sun does not shine.

But instead, she grinned at him.

"Why, thank you. I was named after my grandmother, you see. She was-"

"Oh my, a story. I love stories. How about we talk about it in the employee refreshments room. I could make you tea and there's and assortment of cakes and biscuits."

He started to pull her away from the Ancient Egyptian section, his men dragging Abby behind him.

"That sounds like a delightful offer but I really must get going."

He turned around, cocked an eyebrow then laughed.

"What? You have a curfew? Are you Cinderella?"

She wanted to scoff and swear and put him in his rightful place but Diane  wouldn't do that. Curse you Diane.

"Looks like you saw through my disguise," she laughed. "Allow me to leave my shoe and have you search for me."

"Or better yet." He snapped his fingers and one of his men locked the only door out. "Allow me to imprison you."

Man, I'm so tired but I still want to take this chance to thank you all for reading this far into the story. I really appreciate it because I genuinely thought this story would be an utter failure. Thank you so much!

Also, I've started to update my imagines book again, if you're interested.

~Exhausted SpicyThaiChicken