(Collaborative Story Dock One continued from previous posts.)
The throb in Marian’s right temple pulled her from her sleep, the outline of a man in a chair brought her back to the reality of the dead man on the pier and the ride through Paris with Gen. The instinct to bolt took hold of her, but fear held her in place on the bed.
“Marian, be calm,” said a recognizable male voice. She winced when he flicked on the nightstand’s small lamp, illuminating a face she knew all too well. Dazed, the disdainful odor of chloroform lingered in her nostrils, and settled on the roof of her mouth.
Gen offered a bottle. “Here, drink some Evian.”
Feeling queasy, Marian accepted, “This is kidnapping. Why?”
“We’ll explain later. Drink. It’ll settle your stomach.” Gen glared at the man.
Marian did as she was told. The man’s face zoomed into focus. She stared in his eyes, the eyes of the man she least expected here in Paris. She sipped to borrow time, to regroup. She mistrusted him more than ever. Her thoughts strayed to the dock, the dead man, the money, her unforgettable past. How imperfect, yet perfect in timing. “It was orchestrated, wasn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes, Child. Now, where is the key?” Her father’s voice, the controlling tone she knew too well, the one that annoyed her.
Marian hated the man who was her father. For the greater part of her life, she had tried to love him. It hadn’t worked. She endured his lies, his secrets, his unwillingness to open up to her. Now here he was bringing a new danger to her. No, not a danger, but more, who could know how many new dangers? The sound of his voice crushed her joy at being in Paris to search for a new beginning, a new career away from his lies.
How did he know she would be on that pier? How did he know that she would go to the old man’s side? She had a thousand questions he probably would never answer.
Collaborative Story Dock One
