+ 1.9: Enough

“I’ve had enough with you, with this mansion, with this stupid little plan of yours. I’ve done my part!” Azaria burst the lounge her blood at boiling point. She had just changed Troye’s diapers and was glad to have gotten away from him and his pleading eyes. She clenched her fists so hard the whites of her knuckles had begun to show.

“I gave you a son and I’ve get kept my mouth shut about your crimes. You owe me.”

“I owe you?” His voice was firm and clear unlike hers which wavered with fury and frustration. “And what exactly do I owe you?” He dragged the word out each time he said it as if it belonged to a language he neither spoke nor heard of.

“My freedom.”
“For my son?” He tilted his head amused at the boldness that the girl had suddenly adopted. His lips curled at the corners. “This isn’t even stevens. You scratch my back and, well, your back just itches.”

“Well my...” 

“...family wouldn’t allow it?” He finished. She hated how he cut into her sentences and added his own words to it with such arrogance it rivalled Emmy Starr. She hated how he knew what she was thinking – or thought he knew. She hated how he tormented her with his hot and cold mood swings. She hated everything about him.

“Might I remind you that your oh-so-high-up family have all but disowned you? Tell me, if they cared would you still be here? Of course not because daddy would have come to your rescue with his billions of simoleans. They don’t care.”  

His last three words had stung her hard because for the most part it was true. They really didn’t care about anyone who wasn’t like them.

“I on the other hand, have been extremely kind to you. I could have taken care of you the same way I took care of your friends. But I didn’t. Instead I feed you, I clothe you, and I put you a roof over your head. I don’t force expectations upon you, do I? Hmm? No I don’t. You don’t need a career.”

“Don’t you threaten me!” Azaria hit back. If she had to face death today she would.

“Oh but you are afraid of it. Petrified to your core. Because deep down you are exactly like your parents. You were born proud. It is human nature, isn’t it? To be bothered by what other people may think? You’re terrified of what they’ll say about you when you’re gone; terrified that you would have failed to prove yourself and failed to laugh in their faces; terrified of what’s to come after death. I’ve read your thoughts. The unknown scares you the most.” He spoke in a velvety voice, planting thoughts in her head. “But I can change that. If you stay here I can give you a life so great you don’t have to worry about all these things. No one will judge you. All you have to do is...”

 “Shut up!” Azaria spat out.

The next few moments were blurred by white fury and the last thing she remembered seeing was Davrin doubled over in an armchair swearing foully.  She wasn’t sure how she had thrown on her coat and landed in the middle of the bridge. She glanced back. She couldn’t see him. But she wasn’t ready to relax just yet. She realised that her heart was suddenly pounding with such might against her chest she was sure it would burst through her ribcage. Bending over, her hands on her knees, she caught her breath. He would probably come after her soon; he could be giving her a little heard start before pursuing the chase. She heard the purr of an engine drawing closer and closer toward her. She turned around as a taxi slammed to a halt in front of her.

“Watch it lady!” The driver honked his horn at her. She apologized and hopped in.

“1550 Bayshore Highway.” She said without thinking.